So Sweet the Taste
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#29
Trigger Warning 
Adam
My body is a temple
But I don't believe in God
So knock it down and build me something new

Adam was so wrapped up in his memory he didn't notice Amalia's discomfort and relief, but she didn't need to worry - he had always been unable to take the step into cruelty and death that so many thieves and rascals did. There was something in him that wanted to be all the rebel he could be, but not to cause any real harm, like the characters he read about as a child.

He noticed her truly again when she moved closer and put an arm around him; if it were anyone else, if he were sober or more guarded, he would have shrugged the comfort off, but in this moment he leaned closer to her and tried to control his tears so he could continue to speak. He had to get it all out in one go, or he would never tell her the last part.

"So uh..he woke up, and I don't think he recognised me or anything, but he wasn't happy about me being there, obviously." A weak chuckle marked this as a poor attempt at a joke. "He's an old guy so I thought it was fine, I'd win the fight and get out, but then he called the guards, and they were really fucking big..." He'd been completely out of luck. A scrappy, undernourished 17 year old against three trained soldiers.

The next part was the hardest of all. His fingers went to trace along the scars on his chin, two of which reached up to his lips. "...They threw me out the window. Which maybe wouldn't be too bad, but he had...this uh...grate thing? With spikes. And I caught my neck like.." He spread his fingers and ran them up the length of his scars, mimicking the cold steel cutting immediately through flesh and showing bone. "I got uh...stuck...there, for a bit. It um...it.." His breath hitched and he couldn't go any further, not about those hours spent staring at the sky and sure he was dead. "It wasn't good."
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#30
you drew memories in my mind I could never erase
painted colors in my heart I could never replace
He doesn't pull away from her, and Amalia rests her head on his shoulder, sighing softly, still silent and supportive and not really knowing what else to do. For a moment her heart clenches again as he mentions the guards coming to catch him; and then I died wouldn't be the strangest thing she'd heard from an Outlander's lips.

But no, the truth of the matter is worse. She follows his fingers to his neck, watches as they trace the silver scars, as he remembers his trauma and recounts it to her. He was not captured, was not killed, but he was maimed, left with scars both physical and emotional to remind him forever of that day. "Fuck," she exhales softly, emphatically, all of her empathy carried over in that simple yet complex word.

Amalia knows what it is to have moments that hurt too much to look at, and she knows that sometimes you have to see them, to stare into the wound. Or so it is for her, at least, and her own experiences are all she can go off. "How did you... I mean, what happened next?"
meet me where the falling stars live
Amalia
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#31
Adam
My body is a temple
But I don't believe in God
So knock it down and build me something new

If it were a different moment, Adam would have laughed at hearing Amalia swear. As it was he  just nodded, knowing that there was little one could say to the story he had just told. It had been the worst day of his life, and he kept it tightly under lock and key because it didn't convey at all the image he wanted for himself; untouchable, cool, someone who breezed through life and had never seen pain.

"Huh? Oh." He hadn't expected her to ask him to go on, but he wiped at his eyes then spoke again. "Well, I guess Heidi, who uh...was my girlfriend then, heard about it. And she came and got me...y'know...it should be funny. She used a pole they used to wash the windows to get me off the grate, but I can't laugh at it." He sighed, wishing the absurd image would bring any joy to the whole memory. "Then she took me back to her place and sewed me up."

What followed afterwards he did not remember very well, because he had been very determined to forget it. It had been a journey into the bottoms of barrels and the filthiest gutters, black out drunk as long as he was awake and with constant rings of red around his eyes. "I was...kinda fucked up, after that, for a while...which is probably why I ended up getting married at the end of it." He stuck his tongue out, mimicking being sick, showing just how good of an idea that had been.
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#32
you drew memories in my mind I could never erase
painted colors in my heart I could never replace
Adam may not be able to even consider laughing at his story, but it takes Amalia a great deal of self restraint to maintain composure in her inebriated state, the imagery distinctively entertaining despite the incredibly horrifying conversation topic. Instead she focuses on being an empathetic listener, her body shifting just enough to allow a rumbling, comforting purr to escape from her chest.

Marriage leading to disaster is one of the Shield's greatest fears, but again, not about her. "It can't have been all bad," she suggests unhelpfully, with no real information to back it up except that Adam had spoken fondly of Heidi that day they met in the bakery. Then her half-smile fades again, and she puts her head back on his shoulder, sighing softly and biting her lip. "I'm.. I'm sorry, Adam. But for what it's worth, I think you're pretty great."
meet me where the falling stars live
Amalia
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#33
Adam
My body is a temple
But I don't believe in God
So knock it down and build me something new

"The marriage? Well, nah. Heidi was my best friend." It was easier to talk about this than the injury, as much as it hadn't been a good time, so he focused on it. "When we met, as teens, she'd just run away from home - where her dad was this big noble guy, nearly related to the King. And around when we were 20, she made back up with them, which meant I was suddenly a suitor and not just a boyfriend."

Adam's face, the picture of disgust, clearly said exactly what he felt about being a suitor. "So we have to get married. Because people will talk, or some shit. But they talked anyway, 'cos I wasn't the kinda guy they all thought she should be marrying. I didn't grow up learning what kinda spoon you use first at dinner when there's ten out on the table, yknow."

This was a soft way of putting it. He had been treated as lesser than in every way, in those halls. Doors were shut in his face, whispers died down as he entered a room, nobles tittered into their palms when he took a wrong step in a dance they all seemed to know perfectly. When they'd found out he couldn't read the prayer book thrust into his hands at a dinner, he'd had enough, running out of the room to the delighted gasps of onlookers.

Heidi had tried to convince him different, but it had been over.

He waved off Amalia's apologies but did smile as she called him 'pretty great'. "Oh, I know. We're ten years on and I got a hell of a lot smarter and sexier." With a little smile he squeezed Amalia and kissed her forehead. "You're pretty ok too. Now let's stop talking about sad shit and lay back and look at the colours on the ceiling. You'll see them if you want to."
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#34
you drew memories in my mind I could never erase
painted colors in my heart I could never replace
Apparently a suitor is a bad thing, but Adam seems ready to turn away from being morose, and the girl is happy to try to steer the tone into lighter waters. "Man," Amalia comments absently, "Marriage is weird in other worlds." Forced, coerced, for politics and full of assassination... the baker cannot comprehend. She turns to Adam with a bemused expression, raising an eyebrow as he explains his failures at social graces. "Why would you possibly need ten spoons? One for each finger?" As though to illustrate this idea the girl wiggles her own fingers in front of her face, long talons sprouting from them as she pretends they are unweildly utensils.

Yup, friends, it's official- your girl is high as a kite.

She giggles slightly as Adam kisses her forehead, shaking one taloned finger playfully at her friend. "Careful now- I'm a taken woman. Y'don't want my boyfriend beating you up." Then she giggles again, because the idea of Deimos growing jealous and trying to take out Adam is incredibly laughable to her.

Obligingly the girl lies down, staring up at the ceiling, still pressed lightly next to him. For a moment she is silent, focused on the stars which do indeed seem to twirl and glow. "I wonder where I'll be in ten years," she muses, wiggling still taloned fingers above her face. "I'll be old- wait, how old are you?"
meet me where the falling stars live
Amalia
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#35
Adam
My body is a temple
But I don't believe in God
So knock it down and build me something new

Adam laughed, unsure if marriage wasn't just weird everywhere. While he admittedly only knew one married person here, he had assumed it was the same stupid power-grabbing move it had been back home, with a few exceptions based on love. "Oh fuck, no, don't make me recite the spoon thing. It was so dumb. Different ones for soup, pâté and dessert, then others for this weird fucking bowl of lemon water they'd have sometimes..."

He liked his meals simple and filling. A bit of meat, bread and beer for him, please. Though it was hard to stay too grumpy about high cuisine when Amalia was giggling and transforming her fingers before him; he laughed too, at the image and at the clear effect the drugs were starting to have on her (and he was secretly relieved it was turning out to be a good effect). "Let him try. I'll seduce him too."

Laying down with her, he closed his eyes for a moment, the swirling above him a little nausea inducing, considering the baseline amount of alcohol already in his system. "I'm...uh...I think about 27. I don't know...quite when my birthday is, totally. But around there...oh Jeez, that means I'm gonna be 37 in ten years. Ew. That's not old enough to be old sexy, but it's not young enough to be cool and rebelly. What am I gonna do?"
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#36
you drew memories in my mind I could never erase
painted colors in my heart I could never replace
The idea of Adam attempting to seduce Deimos sends Amalia into another fit of laughter, though now a little jealous insecurity makes its way back through her haze. "Please don't," the baker entreats between giggles. "I don't know that I'd be able to compete with all that oozing sex appeal." What if someone did try to seduce Deimos away from her? What if he found someone prettier, smarter, more fun, more stable, more?

Swallowing down this rising anxiety, Amalia tries to focus on listening Adam without becoming too distracted by the colors that dance above. "You're twenty-seven? I'm only twenty-one!" Blinking disbelief: there is no way he's that much older than her. Though as to what he'll do? Amalia shrugs. "I think that's how old Wessex is, about, and she's pretty cool. So you should be okay."

Something dawns upon her suddenly, causing her to sit up in the bed. Wincing as her head spins (or is the room spinning?), Amalia beams at Adam. "I have a birthday present for you! Well, kinda. Since you don't know your birthday. And it's not really a present. But still. Do you want it?"
meet me where the falling stars live
Amalia
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#37
Adam
My body is a temple
But I don't believe in God
So knock it down and build me something new

"I can teach you, if you want." Adam said, half-serious, half-joking. "Being sexy and stuff. It's just kind of a mix of confidence and knowing how to move...and dress." He gestured down to his tight pants and loose shirt, gaping open to show a good amount of chest; the heels that raised and shaped his legs. "Don't have to go quite as extreme as this, but we could get you some lower cut dresses or something and maybe boof up the hair...?"

The shock with which Amalia repeated his name had Adam sitting up a little to frown at her, momentarily offended. "Hey now, twenty seven and looking just as good as your little baby self." The easy smile returning he laid back down and closed his eyes, internally surprised to find Amalia was so young.

As for Wessex's coolness....well. Her vibe was so different from his he knew he wouldn't ever achieve it regardless of his age.

Amalia sat up and he cracked open an eye. "Oh? I love presents. I'm pretty sure my birthday is...somewhere in the Summer, but I'm not gonna say no."
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#38
you drew memories in my mind I could never erase
painted colors in my heart I could never replace
"Boof?" Amalia repeats a little dubiously, reaching up to pull self-consciously upon a tawny lock. "Oh... I thought my hair was okay." It is one of the only features she finds favorable, in fact, one of her few points of vanity the girl maintains. Apparently, though, this was incorrect. Sunny expression a little soured, she bites her lip in thought. "So if... if I fix my hair and walk differently I'll be attractive?" It seems like it can't be that simple, but Adam seems confident enough.

As she makes her way out the door Amalia's bright voice carries back through the bakery. "Oh. Well, I was born in LongNight, but nobody ever celebrates it. Especially me. And-"

There is a sound of crashing, a yowl, and the whole building shakes a little as Amalia tumbles down the stairs, clearly too inebriated to navigate complex architecture. Should Adam go to look for her he will find a bundle of fur rising from the ground and shaking herself off before disappearing into the kitchen a moment.

The leopardess bounds back up the stairs, her prize clasped in her mouth. With an abashed expression she deposits it on the bed beside him before hopping up herself, nudging the empty treasure with her broad head and purring loudly in what might be construed as apology, or else smug self satisfaction.
meet me where the falling stars live
Amalia
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#39
Adam
My body is a temple
But I don't believe in God
So knock it down and build me something new

"Yeah, boof. Like..." Adam pushed his fingers up into his own hair, fanning it up and out to make it appear bigger. His hair was thick enough that it stayed in place after he had shaped it, making him look like an uneven toilet brush. Though when Amalia asked her unsure, sad question, he shook his head and took a lock of her hair in his fingers. "No, no. Your hair's fine. It's really nice, actually. But that doesn't mean you can't change it for a look - sometimes you can mix things up for a different vibe, y'know?"

She went off to get the gift and he laid back, hands behind his head. "No one ever celebrates it? Fuck that, I'll do you a par--" Adam sat up with a start as he heard the series of concerning noises - immediately his head rushed and he nearly fell back down, but he determined stayed up to watch and see if Amalia was going to return.

He heard movement, then footsteps coming back up the stairs, so he assumed she likely wasn't dead. "You okay? I heard you eat shit out there."

At first he almost didn't recognise what the gift was, but as soon as he realised he reached out to grab it, held it up to study it - his drinking horn, the very same! "Motherfucker! How long have you had this? Why did you--?" Not finishing his question he took a sip from it, seeing if it still held the cider he had originally placed within.
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#40
you drew memories in my mind I could never erase
painted colors in my heart I could never replace
She isn't sure what reaction she expected from him, or if it's the reaction she gets. Lying on the bed, the big cat watches as Adam raises the horn to his lips and... nothing happens. He will find it empty, drained by Ludo, and though the Shield's intentions had been strong at the time, now she isn't sure.

Shifting back to human form, the baker sits up suddenly, not able to meet Adam's gaze. "You left it here the night you.. you stayed over. And you were so- and I was so--" She frowns, picking at the comforter. "So I thought I would ask Ludo to empty it, and then put something... something more healthy. Or something. In it." She'd had lofty plans of curing his alcoholism, but really? She'd just been acting selfishly, self-righteous and judgmental as always.

"I'm sorry, Adam. I... I shouldn't have tried to make that decision for you. I know sometimes I can be, um, kind judgy and bossy and self-righteous. But I don't know shit, and I shouldn't pretend I know better. So... yeah. You can put whatever you want in it." Pulling her knees up under her chin again, the still rather intoxicated baker sighs. If he doesn't want to be her friend anymore Amalia will understand. She'll be sad and likely cry herself to sleep, but she'll understand.
meet me where the falling stars live
Amalia
Adam Pikely
Smuggler's Liaison

Age: 36 | Height: 6'3" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 17 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 17 - Luck: 12 - Int:
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#41
Adam
My body is a temple
But I don't believe in God
So knock it down and build me something new

There was a moment of confusion, a pause, as Adam took the horn away from his lips and stared, wondering why sweet cider hadn't hit his mouth. He was about to crack a joke, look over to Amalia and ask her if she'd actually drunk so much of it she'd gotten to the end of an endless cup.

But when he glanced at her he saw she was making herself small, seemed to be sad and guilty. Adam listened to her with a frown. She was so...? For a while he didn't understand, unsure quite what it was she had taken the horn for; then it struck him all at once that she cared about him.

He didn't like to get too serious when he was high, and the tension did draw a few involuntary giggles from him, but he leaned forward and placed a hand on her knee. "Hey, you were trying to help me out, right? I mean, I know I drink way too fucking much. That's not a secret. Y'just would have to go and close down the Rathskeller to actually have this be effective." With another laugh, he put down the horn.

"Thing is, I've tried to stop before and it never works out. I don't..." He sighed, not good at this sort of thing. "I don't want you to feel like you have that job too, cos it's fucking miserable."
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#42
you drew memories in my mind I could never erase
painted colors in my heart I could never replace
Normally Amalia might have sulked and stewed in her insecurities, but whether because of the substances or her trust in her friend the girl relents quickly, looking up at Adam's giggle with a smile of her own. "Yeah. I was trying to help." Though when he mentions shutting down the Rathskeller she almost makes a vow then and there to do that.

But that's a bandaid, not a cure.

If Adam thinks that he can get her to lay off that easily, though, after forgiving her nosiness, he's made a great mistake. Reaching out to lightly punch his shoulder, the baker shakes her head emphatically (a mildly nauseating act). "It's not... it's not a have to. I want to. If you need help I'm always here, dumbass. That's what friends are for."

Picking up the horn from where he's set it, Amalia turns it thoughtfully between her finger. "Y'know... I bet you could ask the gods to put something else in it. Like something that stops the craving for alcohol, but doesn't actually like, do alcohol things. Drun...ken..ing. You know." And then she, stops, realizing what she's doing, a chagrined expression passing over her face. "If... if you wanted. I'm not trying to tell you what to do."
meet me where the falling stars live
Amalia


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