can't leave now, I'm haunted (Open)

Loren not afraid to use every trick in the book The conversation shifted away from the Launceleyns, both real and adopted, for which Loren was grateful. The more he heard about what they’d been up to in his absence, the more worried he became. And guiltier: seemed like they’d gotten quite out of hand without him to balance them out and provide a convenient target. At Rexanna’s comment about how light magic might be better suited to them than dark, Loren felt the ghost of a smile form at the corner of his lips. “I suppose so.” Others, especially his family, would definitely disagree with that statement. They valued the darker arts, and had never understood Loren’s magic, viewing it as weak, lesser. For a long time—and sometimes even in the present—he’d thought they were right. As the blue-eyed woman walked over to the corner, Loren stood aside. He watched carefully as Rexanna threw sparks at the message, blasting it with a colorful fire. The librarian, who’d seen many displays of magic in his life, had never seen anything quite like this. It was beautiful. Although he appreciated that Rexanna had brought the water over as well—and that she’d snuffed out the flames with her magic, or so he assumed—since the summoner didn’t want to begin to consider what sort of substances there’d been in this bar. Even if they weren’t highly flammable, they might have volatile effects. Stepping back to get a better view, he nodded approvingly. “The perfect final touch.” Which brought tears to his eyes: this was a pitiful memorial that could hardly do justice to a larger than life woman like Edy. Trying to keep Rexanna from seeing this latest bought of tearing up, Loren shot her a sad smile before turning away, idly fiddling with a cleaning rag. “I don’t know. Going out in a blaze of glory seems just like Edy’s style.” Poor choice of words, since she had died, and he still hadn’t found out how. Closing his eyes, he choked back a sob; sadness was weakness, and would be punished harshly he reminded himself firmly. When he finally felt some semblance of self-control, he glanced over at the blue-eyed woman. “I’d like to see it someday, though. The fireworks, I mean.” And he really did mean it. The laughter did an excellent job of chasing away his lingering blues (though he felt guilty about that, unsurprisingly). He distracted himself by focusing solely on Rexanna. “I can only imagine how proud she was of it. Bet she liked waving it around all over the place and boasting about how big it was.” His tone came out without a trace of sorrow or angst for once, and he was shocked at how easy this conversation was coming to him. Since Loren had come back, every word had been excruciating to form; however, with Rexanna it seemed to flow easily. It helped that she had absolutely no preconceived notions of him, despite his bloodline. And so far she didn’t seem the type to judge. “Honestly, I’d be worried about your lack of self-preservation if you weren’t afraid.” Loren blinked as the blue-eyed woman pulled out yet another spider, smaller than the first, but unmistakably the same type. “Guess these critters have been lonely.” Before he could think too hard about the reason why that might be, he gently nudged the first spider out of the way—which protested drunkenly but ineffectually—until he refilled the bowl and put it back. Hopefully that’d keep the spiders occupied while the people kept looking.