[The Keep] Walking to Skye

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Straken
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Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye

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The innkeeper gave a wry smile as she grabbed either side of her work dress and curtseied. Once she'd had her fun with it, she brushed the dress back into place and planted his hands on her hips in a pose that Drysi had seen Ruarc do fairly regularly back at Safeholme. The Irish matron seemed to be taking a moment just simply look at Drysi. After another moment more the wry smile became warm as a summer's day with a soft breeze.

"Now, why woul' Ah min' a compliment?" Saoirse winked again. Turning to look towards the windows, a hint of melancholy drifted over her features. "As for the famous talk, bah. Ruarc's still m' li'l Ruarc, even if 'e's to big for me t' carry anymore."

A punctuated shake of her head and she shifted gear again.

"As for me, Ah'm just an Irish spinster who makes the bes' Guiness stew this side of Tullamore. Dinner'll be ready in twen'y. Come on down when y're feelin' peckish, and Ah'll get ya served up."

Turning to leave, Saoirse knocked on the door frame twice before exiting and closing the door behind her.
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Kokuten
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Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye

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It was difficult not to see so much of Mr. Flynn in Saoirse, especially in that manner she was so familiar. Even Drysi could sense something a little deeper than what was being let on. If Mr. Flynn wasn’t the type to speak freely on how he actually felt, would his mother be any different?

The apprentice closed her eyes, reflecting on this after Saoirse left and opened her mouth to speak.

”It must have been hard to raise him by herself,” interrupted Gideon.

Affronted, Drysi whirled on the snake, coming down to his level. The slightly frog-shaped serpent turned to look at her. ”What?”

“You are barely a few weeks old,” began Drysi, her eyes squinting down in contempt for ruining what would have been an insightful moment with an even more insightful moment.

”Correct,” Gideon nodded slowly, so as to not upset his digestion.

“Why are you so aware of people?”

”It’s my nature,” he answered with no reflection on the matter, ”snakes live and die on their judgement of others. I’m not a big tiger like Aashvi, so I try to pay attention as much as possible to help you.”

“No, how did you know Mr. Flynn was raised by his mom? By herself? For that matter, how would you know that’s hard?”

This warranted reflection, and Drysi had to wait for a response. It took so long that she began looking for a fresh pair of socks.

”Ms. Laoise has never mentioned Mr. Flynn’s father,” ascertained Gideon, ”but she has told me about Ms. Saoirse. Ms. Saoirse has never mentioned Mr. Flynn’s father since we’ve arrived. Mr. Flynn hasn’t asked about or been informed about his father.”

“So?”

”If it had been months since I had seen you, I would want to be the first to know. At the very least, I would want you to know why I couldn’t see you.”

Drysi had made herself just presentable enough again to come pick up her familiar and take him with her. She was already hungry, and it was getting hard to see Gideon quickly out-stripping her in maturity.

”Plus,” he added, ”it’s scary to be solely responsible for someone’s life, much less everything else.”

This stopped Drysi at the door. She looked down at the serpent coiled on her shoulders. His eyes appeared almost human in their regard for her, despite their glassiness. Wordlessly, she cupped his chin in her palm, and kissed his head and held him close as she made her way back down to the common area.
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Straken
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Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye

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Back in the commons, Drysi was greeted by a rich and savory aroma wafting through the air. A few more patrons had made their way in to enjoy dinner out on the town, and a small group of performers had gathered at the far end by one of the large windows; which had been opened to allow a refreshing breeze to drift inside to mingle with the comfortable setting. The people mingled and relaxed with drinks in hand as life looked to continue much as it must have for decades, or perhaps even centuries before; if one ignored the electric lights.


Amid the gaggle of patrons Drysi could spot her master standing a couple inches taller than most of the others, and he too seemed to notice Drysi; with a gesture, he pointed to a mug sitting on the end of the long table near the corner; indicating that was where he was sitting, at least when not being accosted with greetings and well-wishes from a quarter of the town. Now with more time to take the space in however, Drysi would have a chance to appreciate the detail and character of this old inn.


The bar along the wall had a young woman working the tap and tending the patrons while Saoirse was in the back. The shelves lining the wall behind it seemed impossibly cluttered with a menagerie of bottles of all manner of spirits that only took on a semblance of organization upon scrutinizing inspection. Scattered among openings between bottles were pictures of the inn and various patrons and proprietors from various decades ranging all the way into the days of black and white. The pictures became more recent as they progressed along the wall towards the stairs; with one of the more recent ones near where Drysi descended depicting an old man and a young boy, and the young boy beamed as he excitedly held up a sizable fish. The picture had a brass plate on its wooden frame that read Ruarc’s First Fishing Trip.
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Kokuten
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Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye

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”This feels a bit like that time I snuck into my Master’s room to look at his pictures,” Drysi thought thoroughly enough to form words in her mind.

Gideon just rose his head enough to look up at his druid.

”You don’t… do that anymore, do you?”

”Nope.”

”Your master welcomes you into his personal space with certain expectations.”

”And my master hides things from me all the time,” Drysi smoothly answered, albeit walking about as if she felt it necessary to show she was practicing deception, “I don’ see the difference. Lookit here. Don’ he look like some big honkin’ version of Johann in this picture?”

The apprentice could sense her familiar didn’t want to drop the subject, but she kept following along in the trail of memories until she found the space over in the corner. There were a lot of people crammed in this homey pub with music and conversations going on. Not that Drysi was too posh for a good pub atmosphere, but she was still quite used to the spaciousness and quiet holes of Safeholme.

She took a seat and pulled out her phone and came to the immediate realization she had not just not heard from Willow that day, she hadn’t heard from her in two days. Her thumbs danced on the small screen, tracing back up the conversation she had had a few days prior. They had been messaging back and forth, since Drysi had been spending more time with her folks, but everything had come to an abrupt halt. First, she was worried, then frustrated, then angry, then furious. Dutifully, her fingers produced an angry text.

”Don’t send that.”

”Why not?”

”Because you didn’t think about reaching out to her until just now.”

Considering this advice, Drysi chose the path of maturity and put her phone down. Then, she proceeded to sulk silently, her brows furrowed heavily over eyes as she huffed, puffed and sighed. This lasted for approximately six seconds before she snatched the phone up, swiftly wrote a message and sent it before Gideon could say anything. She set the device back down, and went back to sulking.

Drysi's Text
I miss you.

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Straken
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Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye

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“You’re sulking. What’s up?” came a voice from behind Drysi. It was Ruarc. Having separated from the well-wishers the older druid sat down a couple platters of food before walking around to the opposite side of the table to take his seat. Drysi’s platter carried a bowl of savory looking stew topped with fresh green onions, a small loaf of brown bread, a crisp looking salad. Ruarc’s platter was almost identical except it had and extra mug of ale. Pointing at the mug and then to Drysi, Ruarc’s look was a nonverbal offer that Drysi could have the drink if she wanted.
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Kokuten
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Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye

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Without saying a word, Drysi scooped up the mug in two hands, and tipped back the contents. She took a big swig, moving forward another step on her sampling of brewed beverages. The mug came back down on the table, producing a disgusted face. Drysi raked her tongue with her teeth, before trying again.

The second go was no different than the first, but she found the bubbles pleasant to the palette at least.

“I haven’t heard from Willow,” muttered Ruarc’s apprentice, looking to coat the after-taste of her first ever ale with a world famous dish, “She hasn’t texted. Not once. She usually remembers when she sees the eleven messages I’ve sent her at the end of the day, but it’s been a while.”

Drysi hollowed out a little section in the bread for some stew, filled it and took a bite. She began to deflate as the flavor eased her mind and the warmth suffused in her body. It tasted like that momma hug. Full and warm. With a few blinks, she wicked away a couple of would-be tears, realizing it was a little warmer than she thought.

“How do you and Miss Caoranach handle bein’ apart?” asked Drysi, putting another spoonful of stew in her mouth, “I know she’s fey and can do whatever she wants, but she is at the front door a lot.”
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Straken
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Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye

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“We... uh...” started the archdruid as he paused with a spoonful of stew. The disposition of the older man suggested that he was off-guard; whether by the question or the environment remained to be seen. Taking time to think Ruarc ate his stew, chewed, and took down some of his own ale before answering his apprentice.

“We... acknowledged that to try and constrain each other would be a disservice. But... its about understanding. Carrie has had a rough... few... years, and at the start I had gone years and months between seeing her. Nowadays I mostly give her space to let her acclimate to everyday life again. From her side, she knows I’ve been... on my own, familiar notwithstanding, for half of my life. She gives me the same courtesy for the same reason, I suppose.”

Taking a swig of his ale, completely unfazed by the beverage, Ruarc seemed to think for a moment.

“Everyone is different, and there is no one right way to handle relationships. Best I can suggest is to understand your partner and work from there; Willow grew up in an environment that’s made her resent being constrained, and now she craves freedom. In that aspect, she has some qualities in common with Caoranach. Don’t take the distance personally.”
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Kokuten
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Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye

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Ruarc could feel his apprentice’s eyes on him as he partook of his beverage with ease. Her eyes whipped one way in irritated reflection, before looking down at her own, foamy glass. She took another bite of her stew, giving her beer a spiteful look.

“Now, I’m gunna push back a little there,” Drysi presented a staying hand, “about wantin’ distance and…”

It was time to give the beer another shot, and she did so with gusto. She drank deeply of the mug, before withdrawing with what looked like a mix of distrust and confusion. Drysi looked the part of a confused scientist, frustrated with the failings of her experiments. And intoxicated.

“... freedom. Relationships, by their nature are about closeness and restriction,” Drysi hiccuped, cupping her mouth before saying, “stability. You don’t commit to someone for the thrill. That’s shitty. I like to think Ms. Carrie and Willow are plenty alike.”

A challenging look darted back to the beer, and she went to fight again, only to come away confused. At least the glass was almost empty.

“They’re both wildfire, fae types, yeah? Lookin’ fer dwt little things like us. And why?”

That thought looked like it needed some more fleshing out, but only with enough time to cut off her master. “Cause even the fae want rules, they want stability. And whose got two thumbs and hates change?”

Drysi pointed her index fingers at herself with an undeserved sense of superiority.

“So! It’s hard… not…”

Her shoulders slumped.

“Not to… take it personally… I don’t want distance. Life’s dangerous.”
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Straken
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Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye

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“I obviously can’t speak for your relationship with Willow, but as far as my relationship with Carrie goes it is more about support; since gods know stability is hit and miss for the both of us. We have helped each other through some tough times and have been working to build trust in each other, so that even when we are separated, such as now, we know the other is with us in spirit,” Ruarc looked to be thinking rather hard, and in truth he was. He had never been one to talk about personal matters, but he had come to terms a while ago that mentoring Drysi would occasionally involve some of these deviations. In the back of his mind, he also considered swapping his protege’s drink with water, but instead opted to simply place the water next to the mug of ale; letting the girl decide for herself, while making a note that triclops were perhaps lightweights due to their similarly light physiques.

“All I am saying is to not try and force things early on. Teenage romance can be... hectic, even under normal circumstances.”

As Ruarc was finishing someone took the seat beside Drysi.

“Aw, apprentice’s first drink wi' the master. Looks like ye even got her the guid stuff,” said Maeve as she situated her own tray of food. The peculiar owl familiar was wearing her human guise with tactfully placed accessories to obfuscate the unique characteristics that refused to be hidden by magic. “Ah'd hae thought ye'd be bletherin' aboot the mission by noo rather than yer feelin's. Flynn's aw dotin’ on ‘is star pupil, it seems.”
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Kokuten
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Re: [The Keep] Walking to Skye

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“Willow’s probably thinking of me too,” answered Drysi sheepishly, staring down at her empty cup. Her eyes traced the woodlines in yhe table, “I suppose space is fine.”

Then, her hands tightened over the mug, and began to mutter, “Just wish she would text me every once in a while...”

While speaking about one beautiful woman in Mr. Flynn’s life, another came to sit at the table with him. Maeve even had the whole monster-girl going monster-mommy aesthetic, and it made Drysi insanely jealous. Not only was Maeve yet another bird familiar, she was up there with Laoise in looks and appeal, at least until she started talking. Scottish brogue sounded even harder to decipher in a lively bar while lit up.

“Idss so unfair,” blathered Drysi, looking at Maeve, more aware of her own intoxication than actually intoxicated, “I juss’ wanted one and he gets two. It’s more like three– no, four with Ms. Smi–...”

She gasped, covering her mouth, stricken by some terrible divination.

“The chief makes five.”

”Focus,” rose the soft voice of Gideon, slowly turning into her voice of restraint, ”your Master is meeting you halfway about Willow.”

Immediately, Drysi propped herself up on her elbows and appeared to sober up. Then her head hung, looking aghast and red-faced, muttering something just barely tellable across the table.

“Am I six?”

Drysi.

“The mission, mommMaeve is right,” Drysi slurred, slapping her cheeks to get her head in the proper place, “we’re out here for a reason. Do we know anything more than just tha’ initial reports? Oar’ we juss goin’ in blind?”
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