no rivers and no lakes can put the fire out

Amalia

the shield of safrin

"Becoming a luxere," Amalia repeats, raising an eyebrow at the nonchalant statement. Well, if you aren't full of surprises, the Shield adds through the Attuned bond, wondering just how much he can hear and having no idea how true that statement would prove down the road. "If you need help... Well. You know." She shrugs expressively. It goes unsaid that she will assist him in any misadventure, especially at their goddess' behest.

Running the scarf between her fingers, Amalia scoffs softly. "I would have thought drunken foolishness well in your wheelhouse." There's a teasing note to her voice, playfulness underlined by the seriousness of it all. With another healthy swig of alcohol (and a great deal of coughing) the Shield rises, face illuminated by fire as she holds the scarf aloft.

The fabric dances in the wind, draped across her hands. Affecting as serious a tone as she can muster, Amalia stares into the fire. "This scarf was used to tie a rich, um... duke? While Adam robbed them of their jewels. And underwear. And then seduced him." The Shield nods sagely, as though this tale held even a sliver of truth.

She wants the silence but fears the solitude
she wants to be alone and together with you

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving Not all of them good, Ronin echoed back with a lopsided smile and a shrug of his shoulders. Really it was absurd, ridiculous, magical, all other manner of words to describe becoming a luxere at the whim of a goddess. But if desensitisation of the incredible could occur, it certainly had for Ronin. "Thank you," he said, his tone solemn. There was nothing to look forward to about Longnight, and even less when considering Ronin's past experiences with it. Rising to his feet alongside the Shield, Ronin turned the shirt in his hand and raised an eyebrow at her. "It used to be," he said quietly, leaving it there. Ronin used to be and do and be known for a lot of things. Time changed people, along with a healthy dose of trauma. Still, he couldn't help but grin at the story Amalia told. Taking a breath, Ronin felt it was a duty to join in. "Adam wore this shirt as part of a strip-tease to distract a group of rich ladies," he said, his expression utterly serious, as if he were reciting this from a history book. "When they finally realised they were being robbed of their jewellery, they didn't care. The stripping was that good."

Amalia

the shield of safrin

Something Amalia will not know but Ronin, perhaps, will recognize, is that the cloth she holds so tightly in her hands is not, in fact, a scarf.

It had been used tie people up, though. So she is accurate on that account.

Ronin's story - and his conviction in telling it - has Amalia grinning broadly, amusement sparkling in her dark eyes. With an utterly hopeless attempt at a safe nod, the girl raises her definitely-not-a-sex-toy into the night air. "To Adam fucking Pikley!" the Shield proclaims to the heavens. "May he spend many nights in Mort's domain, together with the man he loves and all the treasure he could ever want!"

She pauses a moment to see if Ronin will contribute, then throws the silk into the fire, staring at the dancing embers with tears bright in her eyes.

She wants the silence but fears the solitude
she wants to be alone and together with you

RONIN if there's one thing i'm good at, it's surviving A smile touched to Ronin's features as Amalia raised the not-scarf (but he wasn't going to point that out). "To Adam fucking Pikely!" he called into the night air, raising the shirt in a cheers before casting it into the fire as well. "May he cheat Mort at cards and go down as a legend among the dead." Glancing across at the Shield, Ronin's smile softened and he reached across to tug her into a one armed hug, pressing a brotherly kiss against her hair. "Proud of you," he muttered, returning his gaze to the crackling flames. ~FIN