He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
PIM - Mythical - Dragon (Electricity) BRANBAST - Mythical - Sear Cat (Speech)
Played by: Grant Offline
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Posts: 3,062 | Total: 5,479
MP: 1825
#1
Phoebe
I've been very hopeful so far
Now for the first time I think we're going wrong
Hurry up and tell me this is all a dream
Or could we start again, please?

Emmett hadn't returned to the clinic after the battle. Chris and Milly weren't with the neighbor either. With Roana tended to, her sons back home with her, and despite her anger with him, she began to worry. Where had he gone?

So Phoebe went out looking. Regardless of what arguement they had, what insults had been slung, she did care deeply about him. After asking a few people around town it became clear that he had gone back to his family's house. Was he really so desperate? And to take Milly and Chris there too? She was quick to rush out to the house, knowing how unliveable the place was. Upon arriving she  saw the locks on the front door and so went around back, remembering that entrance had been clear.

"Emmett?!" she called, poking her head inside the door.
Emmett Palmer


Age: 28 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 10 - Int:
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#2
Emmett had gone straight from the spire watching site to the clinic, picked up his siblings and taken them to the farm. He was going to work everything out himself from now on. If he was himself and his siblings he just had to look out for them, could have his time to grieve and be without any complications.

Once they got to the farmhouse he took some important cooking things from the blood-soaked kitchen (could not find the emotional strength in his heart to look at the ground too hard) and brought them to the living room, then locked the door. They would use the back door from now on.

Chris and Milly were confused, upset. Where's Phoebe? Why are we back? He told them he wasn't ready for questions yet, that it was bed time. They went up with a few more objections but ultimately were glad to be back home and in their own beds. Once they were asleep he came back down, sat in the living room with a bottle of his father's whiskey in his hands that he was too numb to actually open.

Suddenly, real and uncontrollable anger burst up through the surface and he stood. Phoebe came in at this moment but he didn't hear her, flinging the bottle as hard as he could at the wall. It smashed with a mighty noise and the liquid burst down the wall and into the room. Emmett stared at it for a moment then sank down onto his knees, loudly wailing out sobs.
Emmett
The sun went down beyond yon hill, across the dreary moor
Weary and lame a boy there came up to the farmer's door
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
PIM - Mythical - Dragon (Electricity) BRANBAST - Mythical - Sear Cat (Speech)
Played by: Grant Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,062 | Total: 5,479
MP: 1825
#3
Phoebe
I've been very hopeful so far
Now for the first time I think we're going wrong
Hurry up and tell me this is all a dream
Or could we start again, please?

The crashing noise made her jump in alarm, but instead of freezing she moved forward. "Emmett?" she called again. Her ears caught the sound of his crying and she frowned, worry giving way to panic. Had something fallen? Had he been hurt? Quickly she found herself in the livingroom which had only just been spared the signs of the slaughter that happen mere feet away.

She found Emmett there on the ground, crying uncontrollably, a liquor bottle smashed across the room. She was smart enough to guess what might have hapoened and her frown deepened. For the moment she forgot her anger with him. How could she be angry with him when he was in such a state? "Emmett..." she said gently, coming to kneel by his side, her arms wrapping around him in comfort. She didn't say anything else, not wanting to interrupt the first real signs of him actually facing his grief.
Emmett Palmer


Age: 28 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 10 - Int:
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#4
Emmett's body sank like it weighed a thousand stone, his shoulders sagging and his face nearly touching the floor as his tears soaked into the wood. Chris and Milly would have definitely heard it, but he could not even produce the thought in the second, lost in his wave of grief.

Suddenly, there were hands on him. Instinctively he tried to wrestle away from them, but then he heard Phoebe's voice and froze still. A part of him wanted to lean into her, take the obvious comfort...but another part of him had set against her, decided his life now was his and could not be shared with her...

"Please just go, Phoebe." He eventually choked out, the words clogged with tears and directed at the floorboards, his face turned from her. "There ain' nothin' you can do here, and you don' understand. You ain' ever gonna understand, and I can' be lookin' after you as well as the kids. Go find a guy with more time or better...better something."
Emmett
The sun went down beyond yon hill, across the dreary moor
Weary and lame a boy there came up to the farmer's door
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
PIM - Mythical - Dragon (Electricity) BRANBAST - Mythical - Sear Cat (Speech)
Played by: Grant Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,062 | Total: 5,479
MP: 1825
#5
Phoebe
I've been very hopeful so far
Now for the first time I think we're going wrong
Hurry up and tell me this is all a dream
Or could we start again, please?

His elbow bashed against her ribs and side as he momentarily tried to wrestle himself away. Phoebe sucked air through her teeth in pain, certain she would had at least a small bruise from it. But she still didn't get angry. It was an accident. He hadn't known it was her surely. Instead, she held onto him tighter until he stopped thrashing. But what he said next hurt worse, like a knife through her chest.

"Please just go, Phoebe..."

Not Bee. Phoebe. And...go? Her lips pressed together as he continued. Slowly her arms fell away from him, limp at her sides. "I can't understand what?" she asked, a slight emotional waver in her voice. "I can't understand what it's like to walk through a door a realize that suddenly everything and everyone you know is gone?  Or what it's like to realize you have to pick up and start completely over and you're all alone with no one to help you? I'm not asking you to take care of me. I've been taking care of you! I kept you alive and nursed you back to health and watched Chris and Milly and made sure you were all fed and had clean clothes to wear and beds to sleep in..." Phoebe stopped short, tears pricking at her eyes.

"Or...does it not matter now...because I am an Outlander? You've decided to hate me, because I've lost everything and am starting over?" she asked quietly.
Emmett Palmer


Age: 28 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 10 - Int:
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#6
Her arms left him and for a moment Emmett was relieved, thought she was going to follow his request and leave. But Phoebe stayed, talking but her words didn't really reach him; he wasn't in the right place to hear them. His fists tightened and he lowered his forehead to the floor. When he breathed he could smell the floorboards; the smell was oddly nostalgic despite him never having done this before.

He tuned back into Phoebe's words at the end, heard her question. "Phoebe, that wasn' about you. But it's still fuckin' stupid for Outlanders who don' know no better to be attackin' the demon. It's how people get hurt, like that guy that died today." Emmett couldn't, wouldn't defend those who had appeared only months ago and made decisions that would affect the whole bubble and people who had lived there for years.

Finally Emmett turned to look at her, teary eyes staring right into hers. "I don' mean lookin' after you like food 'n' beds 'n' stuff. I am...I...I am grateful for that stuff you did, but...I can'...look after your feelin's. Not right now. I don' care about you feelin'...like we're not...having sex enough. Not when this--" Emmett smacked the floor. "Is happenin'."
Emmett
The sun went down beyond yon hill, across the dreary moor
Weary and lame a boy there came up to the farmer's door
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
PIM - Mythical - Dragon (Electricity) BRANBAST - Mythical - Sear Cat (Speech)
Played by: Grant Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,062 | Total: 5,479
MP: 1825
#7
Phoebe
I've been very hopeful so far
Now for the first time I think we're going wrong
Hurry up and tell me this is all a dream
Or could we start again, please?

Phoebe swallowed a lump in her throat, watching him with a steady gaze as he spoke harshly. "Wasn't it though? Me and my god friends...making problems as we try to make sense of why we were brought here? How am I any different." she asked quietly. What difference was there between her and Ronin really? They both sought a way out in a way, a reason for why they were here, a purpose in a land amongst people who so obviously didn't want them.

Her brows furrowed as he continued though. "I never said that we weren't having enough sex, I said I wanted you to act like I was more than your housekeeper because I am!" she said, her mouth clamping shut suddenly. Or...was she? Had everything he said been lip service? Had he just said what she wanted to hear? "Or was that all I ever was to you? You...don't care about my feelings...you don't care about me then?" Her voice shook as she slowly stood, her eyes misty with tears. "My value has run out because I took offense to what you said. Everything means nothing now. That's it? Nothing...none of it was true? I...I care about you deeply. Emmett...I..." she bit her lip and a few tears fell.
Emmett Palmer


Age: 28 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 10 - Int:
Played by: Lancydulac Offline
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#8
"You're just talkin' t'Gods. It's not really changin' anything. People have been talkin' to 'em for years." To Emmett, the difference between speaking at a shrine and storming a Spire were as clear as night and day. Outlanders were welcome to share resources, interact with the general public, use their facilities. But when it came to decisions, actions that could harm the whole community, there should have been months of discussion. Research, understanding, agreements. Not just four Outlanders running out after one meeting.

"...You...what?" Emmett stared at Phoebe after her emotional speech, utterly confused. Obviously they were talking past each other on this topic, not communicating either side effectively.

"Obviously you're more than a housekeeper. As soon as I could, I got back to doin' stuff, and I never asked you t'help. You just did. I still held y'hand and kissed ya and told ya I appreciated it. I dunno what else y'could want except sex. Of course I care about you...y'know, in general, but..." Delicate relationship issues were fiddly, something he couldn't even begin to work out when the yawning gulf of blackness in his soul was threatening an end to his life.

"All I'm gonna do is make y'miserable, Phoebe. I can' give you what you need right now. Not with...all this fuckin' shit going on. My whole goddamn life just...it just...fell apart. I'm not the..the boyfriend you had before Longnight."
Emmett
The sun went down beyond yon hill, across the dreary moor
Weary and lame a boy there came up to the farmer's door
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
PIM - Mythical - Dragon (Electricity) BRANBAST - Mythical - Sear Cat (Speech)
Played by: Grant Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,062 | Total: 5,479
MP: 1825
#9
Phoebe
I've been very hopeful so far
Now for the first time I think we're going wrong
Hurry up and tell me this is all a dream
Or could we start again, please?

Phoebe looked down at the ground, trying to reconcile what he said with how she felt. "One of the things I admired about you is how you didn't act like people like me were any different than you...you just accepted that we lived here now too...it just seems now like that was all a lie." she said quietly. How could it be anything but? He had changed his tune so quickly, so unexpectedly, it was shocking to her. The only explanation she could come to was that this was how he had felt the whole time.

He seemed surprised by her assertion. Had he really missed the point of her breakdown, of what it was she had been missing from him? "Yes, you said you appreciated what I did for you and your siblings, not that you appreciated me...and whenever you did hold my hand or kiss me it was...hollow. Empty. You didn't mean it, you just did it absentmindedly." There hadn't been any emotion behind those actions, they had just been knee-jerk reactions to situations. "And I understand why, I understand how hard it is to be invested when you feel miserable, but that's what you do when you care about someone - you try even when it's hard. That's why you didn't have to ask me to help you. I wanted...I want to help you." she said.

She swallowed and looked away as he spoke, tears threatening to spill over. "I know it has, Emmett...and I have tried to make it easier but you don't let me in. Instead you go off and shout angry, hateful things and bottle up your emotions and keep me at arms reach." Phoebe stopped, closing her eyes to try and settle her thoughts. A few tears leaked out the corners of her eyes as she did so. "But that is what you want then? You don't want me at all? I'm not...You don't...I am not worth fighting for? Or keeping around? Or...I'm not enough anymore?"
Emmett Palmer


Age: 28 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 10 - Int:
Played by: Lancydulac Offline
Change author:
Posts: 328 | Total: 8,707
MP: 0
#10
"I do accept you, Phoebe. But I'm not fond of anyone makin' decisions for alla us when there's people who know better." He didn't really know how else to put this forward to her. Of course he knew the Outlanders were not responsible for their situation, did not blame them for being here, but the Spire attack? The assured way that they spoke of this place that they'd only known for mere months? That was different.

She was clearly hurt, upset. The soul of him, the boy at the core of his hurt who was gentle and sweet, wanted to reach forward and pull her into his arms, apologise and tell her it was all okay. But...it wasn't. He was hurt, he was struggling, and this conversation with Phoebe wasn't one he was ready to have yet.

It would be best for both of them if they took some time apart.

"...No, Phoebe. I still think a lot about ya. I do. But...I'm not ready for any of this. Not right now. Not for you, not for this fight, not any of it. You're better off goin' to find someone else. Please." He didn't deserve her sweetness, her attempts to make him happy, not anymore.
Emmett
The sun went down beyond yon hill, across the dreary moor
Weary and lame a boy there came up to the farmer's door
Phoebe Steadman
the Nightingale
Midwife

Age: 26 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Greatwood
Level: 5 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 46 - Endr: 41 - Luck: 41 - Int:
PIM - Mythical - Dragon (Electricity) BRANBAST - Mythical - Sear Cat (Speech)
Played by: Grant Offline
Change author:
Posts: 3,062 | Total: 5,479
MP: 1825
#11
Phoebe
I've been very hopeful so far
Now for the first time I think we're going wrong
Hurry up and tell me this is all a dream
Or could we start again, please?

"People who know better?? You couldn't even answer questions about your own gods but now, suddenly, you know better because you need someone to be angry at?!" Phoebe said - no shrieked. Tears immediately began to run down her cheeks and a choked sob forced her to stop as she covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders shuddered as she suppressed another sob, feeling as though everything was coming down around her. Why wouldn't he just let her help him? Why did he insist on this self-destructive path? Her chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself and it hurt like she had never hurt before.

"I don't want anyone else, Emmett! That's why I'm here!" she said angrily, gasping for air uncontrollably. But...he didn't want her. Maybe when Frey was around he did, maybe he was actually attracted to her on some level but...he didn't want her... and there was nothing she could do to change it. Nothing she said, nothing she did, no matter how upset she did or did not get he wouldn't want her; not in the same way he wanted to be irrationally angry at the world for taking from him for no reason.

"F-fine. I'll go...but don't you dare lie about having any feelings for me. Ever." She said in a low tone, anger and hurt and heartbreak mixing together. It was visible on her face, just how deeply his words cut. Quickly she turned around and rushed out. She didn't close the door. She didn't look back. She just ran. Ran until she couldn't any longer, the house far from sight as she collapsed, still far from home but legs unable to push her forward anymore, sobs wracking her sides as she curled in on herself, overcome by her heartbreak.
Emmett Palmer


Age: 28 | Height: 5'9" | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 10 - Int:
Played by: Lancydulac Offline
Change author:
Posts: 328 | Total: 8,707
MP: 0
#12
"I still know what it's like to live with 'em, Phoebe! We don' bother the Gods here 'cos we know they do bad stuff!" He exploded back at her, frustrated that she couldn't understand. Since his childhood surrounded by superstitious farm folk with whispers and traditions, it had been the common knowledge that the Gods were to be politely asked for help with the crops and that was all. All this...meddling, lately, couldn't be good.

She got up to leave, made him promise not to lie. But it hadn't been a lie, none of it had; one of Emmett's best and worst qualities was that he was always painfully honest. He had no other way to be. He did have feelings for her, new and strong and overwhelming, but they had come at the worst time, gotten tangled up in the inky blackness of his grief and newfound anger.

"Bye, Phoebe. ...Be...be careful." He mumbled out as she left, curling up to hold his knees and stare at the wall. It was lame, not at all what he wanted to say, couldn't sum it all up if he tried. She was gone, just like he'd wanted, but he still felt so alone suddenly, regretted it at the same time as was glad for it. He stayed there on the floor for a long time, studying the way the whiskey dripped down the walls then dried.

Eventually, Emmett fell asleep and did not dream.
Emmett
The sun went down beyond yon hill, across the dreary moor
Weary and lame a boy there came up to the farmer's door


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