Liam
Widows and orphans aren't hard to find
They're home missing daddy who's saving the abandoned tonight
They're home missing daddy who's saving the abandoned tonight
Perhaps Liam should have shrugged her off, given that the last time they'd been this close, she'd kissed him; but he couldn't quite bring himself to flee the grounding touch she provided. It wasn't intimate, exactly, but it was solid, and steady, and in a world that hadn't stopped reeling in the days since the Climb, it was a welcome strength that did more to chase away his shadows than most things he'd tried.
She spoke of her twin - apparently back from the dead, which registers as enough of a surprise to show on Liam's face - and of her happiness, which he supposed made sense. And maybe he should be happy, given that he was rather convinced that his daughter was alive... but all he could manage to summon was a bone-deep, aching guilt that he couldn't quite shake. That and the heart-rending pain that had come from her lack of recognition. Guilt he could handle, could try to fix - but a lost memory? What use was he against that?
Movement drew his gaze to a nearby hel, which he watched as it landed, pestering passersby until it was shooed away, landing on a nearby roof to survey the scene for its next target. It was easier to speak if he didn't look at Flora, he found, so his hazel eyes stayed trained on the hel - or perhaps a distant scene that only he was privy to - as he spoke. "The festival in the Climb," he said. "I saw... I think my daughter is alive." A shaky inhale. "But... either she doesn't remember me, or I'm wrong and it's not her. But I can't shake the feeling... she looked just like my wife." But she had his eyes.
She spoke of her twin - apparently back from the dead, which registers as enough of a surprise to show on Liam's face - and of her happiness, which he supposed made sense. And maybe he should be happy, given that he was rather convinced that his daughter was alive... but all he could manage to summon was a bone-deep, aching guilt that he couldn't quite shake. That and the heart-rending pain that had come from her lack of recognition. Guilt he could handle, could try to fix - but a lost memory? What use was he against that?
Movement drew his gaze to a nearby hel, which he watched as it landed, pestering passersby until it was shooed away, landing on a nearby roof to survey the scene for its next target. It was easier to speak if he didn't look at Flora, he found, so his hazel eyes stayed trained on the hel - or perhaps a distant scene that only he was privy to - as he spoke. "The festival in the Climb," he said. "I saw... I think my daughter is alive." A shaky inhale. "But... either she doesn't remember me, or I'm wrong and it's not her. But I can't shake the feeling... she looked just like my wife." But she had his eyes.
Wish your drinking would hurry and kill you
Sympathy's better than having to tell you the truth
Sympathy's better than having to tell you the truth
Minor powerplay allowed without permission.
Feel free to use force/magic on Liam.
Feel free to use force/magic on Liam.
