Just after, just before.

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Vega
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Just after, just before.

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121st Trial of Vhalar during Arc 716
following this
She watched him as he finished the last of the preparations they'd been making for the forthcoming winter. Except, of course, winter was already here. Scalvoris was frankly freezing and Vega was very glad that the pair of them were much better at dealing with the cold weather than either of them had been when they first met. Still, they'd been preparing the tent and the camp itself for the high winds and freezing cold when her cousins had turned up. In fairness, Vega had to admit that the pair of them had been just at the beginning of divesting each other of their clothes and, whilst that had been very much in the early stages, it still had been part of the reason why her cousin Reese had reacted the way he did.

Maybe they should be more careful, Vega thought as she rested her head against the pillows he'd insisted on piling up behind her. The healer he'd taken her to, despite her loud and rather obnoxious protests had gone and told him that he'd done "exactly the right thing", (she even pulled a face as she thought it) which had just made him more unbearable. She'd also kept them there a ridiculous amount of time, checking that Vega understood who she was, where she was and what arc it was, asking her questions. When Vega had finally (quite quickly) snapped and started getting testy, the healer had given just as good as she got and somehow, Vega had ended up doing as she was told.

Although she'd been initially irritated at the healer, then at Arlo for his air of 'told you so' she ended up annoyed at them both. She could tell what he was thinking, just by the look he gave her although she had to admit, at least internally, that she knew how worried he was and she was both surprised at herself and glad that she'd just gone along with his 'and this one's a fight you're not going to win'. Wild horses wouldn't drag it from her, but the way that he'd stepped up and taken charge, the way that he'd turned around and threatened Reese after flooring him and the way that he'd thrown the pair of them out of their camp had been damn impressive and more than a little appealing. But then, of course, the healer had started questioning him about where Vega had got the bruises and the mild concussion and she'd obviously been on the verge of calling the authorities, thinking that Arlo had been knocking her around. That had gone down so poorly with the both of them that they'd finally been allowed to go home.

Where he insisted, because the stupid healer had told him to, on her resting. "I'm not good at sittin' still." Vega didn't need to tell him that, he knew it. "Don't you 'ave somethin' that needs cuttin' into bite sized pieces or anythin?" Her eyes were bright blue with flecks of brown, a rare colour to see ever, although the way the colours combined was odd, not in her usual patterns. But her voice was strong and back to normal, the healer said it was fine as long as she rested, which to Vega's mind meant she should be up and getting busy.

Looking at him as he moved over to the kettle and started fussing at the camp fire, Vega decided to stop beating about the bush or, more precisely, remaining quiet on what she needed to say. "I'm sorry, Arlo, about them. For them, I guess." Her gaze followed his movements and she sighed slightly, "I know yer wound up, but if you want me sittin', then I'm afraid yer gonna 'ave to come sit with me. Please?" It was rare that word exited Vega's mouth but she smiled slightly as she said it. If he did, she raised her hand and touched his face very gingerly. "Yer gonna 'ave a shiner in the mornin'." Vega was well aware that she must look a right state, the bruises from her original fight with Reese were only just starting to fade and then Shon had hit her again, but it didn't stop her from leaning forward and kissing him. "You were magnificent, you know. I need to tell you that now," she whispered with a smile, her nose touching his, "because in a bit, this concussion's gonna wear off an' I'm gonna forget ever sayin' anythin' so positive." Her eyes were bright blue as she teased him, but there was no doubting it. "I mean it though." Breathing in, she asked the question that was foremost in her mind. "So, when Papa tries to make the peace, tries to get them to apologise an' us to accept it, what do you think we should say?" There was no doubting that her father would to Vega's mind, "an' I'm full of opinion an' I suppose that we're supposed to discuss it an' come to somethin' together. I mean, I think that's one of the rules, actually. We should probably try an' work those out, too, while we're 'ere."
Last edited by Vega on Wed Nov 29, 2017 1:31 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 897
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Just after, just before.

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Arlo had known Vega would resist, before he'd even mentioned the healer and his intention to take her there. He'd also suspected that it would be just the first, or rather only the second battle in a series of them. The last of it, maybe, would be convincing whoever saw her that it wasn't him that had caused all the scrapes, bruises and other injuries. It was risk he'd been willing to take however, and was more than willing to have that conversation with a complete stranger. He'd also predicted that Vega would be nothing else but a contrary patient, and she hadn't disappointed. On the other hand, he got the satisfaction of being right, and hearing the healer tell her so.

More importantly though what he'd wanted was to have her seen, and to be reassured that she was good and truly alright after the knocking around that she'd taken. Didn't stop him from being especially pleased with himself. But that was just icing on the cake. And it had served to give him more leverage when he'd insisted she sit back and rest, once they'd returned to camp. "Dinner's already cooking," he told her, referring to things that might need dicing and chopping. Currently he was reorganizing a box of spices and the like, making things easier to find. Not for him, but for her. The reason why that was, was also the reason he'd been particularly insistent on making sure that she was completely alright, and that he wouldn't need to worry too much.

And in truth his back was still up, regarding her cousins and their visit. "Don't apologize, and not for them either," he told her, closing the lid on the box and going over to sit by her side. "It'll heal," he said, smiling as he settled down beside her pulled her into his arms and she touched his face. "Besides, it'll make me look rough, someone to contend with," he joked. "I just want to make sure that everything is as right as can be, and that you're going to be alright. Have what you need, all of that...This thing with U'frek. I don't know when it'll happen, or even how. But Vhalar is almost gone and I suspect it'll be any time now."

And if they weren't prepared, if he couldn't know that she was well, whole, equipped and comfortable while he was gone, it would drive him mad. "I was magnificent?" he said then and grinned. "I like that." The grin disappeared though when she mentioned her cousins in particular. What should they say, in the event of another apology? His stance was fairly straightforward. "Well if they came here in the same spirit as they did this time, only because your father told them to, and were no more sincere than they were this time, I can't say my response would be any different." There might be a bit of stubbornness there, but for him a forced apology dripping in insults, was no apology at all.

"If it was real and sincere..." He shrugged. Arlo couldn't imagine that either of her cousins would wake up one morning having experienced a complete change of heart. It didn't seem likely to him, but if it was to happen, then it was Vega's feelings about it, that he was more interested in. He didn't want there to be tension between Vega and her father. Him being stubborn and refusing to make peace was the last thing Arlo wanted. If at some point she could let bygones be just that, then he'd do the same. "Do you really think that will happen? Especially with Reese I mean," he asked.
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"If you fuss aroun' any more, yer gonna start cluckin'," he was growing more unbearable by the bit, she thought and yet she grinned at him as she said it. Rummaging around in a box of some of the herbs and spice things he used, she knew he was wound tight but she also knew that he had something else on his mind. Watching him, she considered that he had this strange mixture of very pleased with himself and yet anxious. He was a strange man, Arlo Creede, there was no doubting it. Still, he sat next to her, which she'd asked him to do in her own unique fashion. She'd even said please. When he put his arms around her, holding her there, Vega leaned against him for a moment, her eyes slowly shifting to green. It would make him look tough? Someone to contend with? "You're such a dweeb," she whispered fondly, resting her head on his shoulder. He said then, why he was fussing and Vega listened. He didn't need to look after her, she was more than capable of looking after herself and she was about to tell him just that, probably with a bit of a bite in it as she did. Shifting in his arms, she looked at him and realised that maybe he did need to. "See, that's just irritatin', that is," she said, softly. "Half of me wants to thump you an' tell you I don't need you to be worryin' about me, Arlo Creede. But then there's that other bit of me. I don't need it, but I appreciate it." Nestling her head back into his shoulder and pulling herself close to him, Vega grumbled. "It's all a bit weird, this tent sharin' relationship stuff. I dunno if I quite like it yet." Nothing, of course, could be further from the truth and she was clear that he knew that. Or if he didn't, he very much should. "I'll be fine, Arlo. So will yer pots an' pans, I promise. Jus', be careful an' come 'ome safe."

Magnificent, yes, she had to admit that he had been. It was a strange situation for Vega, someone jumping in to defend her. Moreso, her being alright with it. Yet, that was what had happened and very much what she was. The trial hadn't dawned where Vega would ever be happy with someone else fighting her battles for her, nor would it, but yet the standing side by side and fighting - figuratively if not literally in this case? That was something that she found surprisingly easy to accept with him.

But they needed to talk about this. "I dunno, 'onestly. I mean..." it was hard to explain, she said. Although it might seem like it was extreme, her cousins and her had fought physically all her life that she could remember. Yet, unknowingly, she echoed her father's words of a few trials before. "But it's different this time, Arlo. I really wanted to kill him." She looked rather shamefaced at that but there was no doubting the truth of it. What it came down to, Vega explained, was simple. He made her crazy. Like she'd told him when they'd argued, she said. She'd told him then, and it was the same, now. "I've been called worse than a whore by better people than Reese. I'm not gonna say I don't care, cos you know me better. But I care this much," she held up her hand, finger and thumb hovering a minuscule distance apart. "Compared to the bloody fury I feel when 'e dares to insult you. I mean, I've always felt protective of you, you know that. An' you were my first friend, an' I loved you an' would do whatever I could for you, no question. But this? I just.. Arlo, I've got all these feelin's an' damnit but I would kill 'im an' go back to cave 'is face in." There was no doubting the truth of what she said and she sighed rather despondently as she admitted, "an' I wouldn't care an' would do it again. You make me crazy." Yes, there was a very definite air of accusation in her tone. It was his fault.

The bottom line, though, was simple. Vega loved her father, but she explained clearly, her relationship with Jo'qan was not or should not be dependent on her relationship with her cousins. So, if they apologised to Arlo sincerely, then she'd think about it. She was rather surprised to find that she meant it completely. "I'll walk away an' never see any of 'em again if they don't accept you, no contest. I've spent all my life wantin' to fit in, an' not really understandin' 'ow my parents could do wot they did." Although she smiled, her eyes were a myriad of colours, mixing together as she shifted her weight so she was kneeling facing him, snow falling around them. Yet, if he noticed such things, none of the colours were ones associated with negative emotions. "I get it now. Completely. So no, unless there's an 'onest apology I'm gonna assume the pair of them are dead, cos if I don't act like they are, I'm gonna 'ave to try an' make them it." It was all just strange to the young woman and she looked as confused and yet determined as she felt. "I think maybe. I mean, I dunno, I know I said no rules, an' now I'm makin' them, an' I get it if you don't want to an' that's fine, but I don't really want either of us seein' anyone else, Arlo." She couldn't assume that he was thinking the same, although she thought he did. But best to be clear and so Vega gave a slight grin. "I might get violent"
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"Well it's good to see that a knock on the head hasn't taken the edge of your sharp tongue," Arlo shot back dryly when she called him a dweeb. All in a teasing fashion however. It wasn't just a pretty face or the way she looked coming or going that had lured him in and was keeping him interesting. It was her way. She drove him mad, and he liked it that way. Holding her close, near to the fire, he shook his head. "I didn't do anything that you wouldn't have done for me. And in case you're planning on changing your mind," he added with a grin. "Too late." The tent sharing, relationship thing he meant.

And he knew that she could fend for herself while he was gone, he told her. But it wasn't going to stop him from worrying. "I promise," he said quietly, when she warned him to come home safe. "I just don't know how long it will be, is all. Don't know how I'll be getting there, or how I'll be getting back. I can only guess that since U'frek got hold of us last time by way of a dream, that the Immortals must be in cahoots with Jesine somehow." Arlo shrugged then. There was no guessing the ways and motives of the Immortals and their lesser kin.

He got up when she began to talk about her cousins and how easily Reese was able to get under her skin, and crouched by the fire in order to serve up a couple bowls of thick mushroom and barley soup with bits of minced sausage in it. Cooked in a chicken broth he'd stored in jars a few trials before, he brought her a bowl back and put it into her hands, a chunk of crusty bread balanced on top. Then he sat down next to her again, a bowl in his own hands. "It's making it easy for him, you know," Arlo suggested. "You're feelings make you, both of us maybe, extra sensitive and he's like a predator on the hunt that way, looking for an opening that's easy to find."

Arlo was just as guilty and he was happy to admit it. He hadn't been willing to start a fight, at least not one of trading physical blows. But he had been spoiling for one, willing to taunt Reese into taking a swing at him so he could say he didn't start it. "That's not to say he wouldn't say the things he does, if he wasn't able to get a rise from it." Truth was, her cousin was an ass and would probably have done it anyway. "I don't want you to walk away from your family because of me, Vega. Your cousins don't like me and never will. An apology isn't going to change that. And that's fine. I don't need them to and I'm not bothered if they don't. I like your father though. And I think he meant well when he told them to apologize. But he ought to know he can't force it."

When she talked about rules, however, the ones she'd insisted they wouldn't be having, he grinned around a mouthful of his supper. But then the new rule she suggested, took him by surprise. Not because it was something she wanted to name and enforce. Instead, it was because Arlo till then had simply assumed. "It wasn't implied already?" he asked. "Vega, for the longest time, before I told you what I was feeling, I haven't wanted to see anyone else. Why would I? There's only you, and I love you."
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Taking the bowl with a grin, Vega's eyes showed her amusement as she spoke. "Thanks, Arlo, it smells great. Is it gonna taste rubbish, though?" she wondered, apparently seriously, "I mean, you know, since I killed yer pan, an' all that. Was it only that pan that made yer food tasty?" As she tasted it, she couldn't hide the look on her face. It was delicious and she honestly didn't know how he did it. "Nope. Not a magic pan. Must be you." As for Reese, predator on the hunt as Arlo referred to him, Vega sighed slightly. He was right, her feelings made both of them vulnerable to him. She hated it, passionately and her scowl showed it. "I know you're right, but it don't mean I can do diddly squit, does it? I mean, wot?" Vega glared at him, as though it was his fault, "Yeah, he can get to me but 'e always could an' I used to jus' pretend 'e didn't. Now, I at least get the satisfaction of bein' able to pound 'im. Maybe that'll mean it's not worth it for 'im. If 'e carries on, I'll use a club or oar or low branch to beat him with next time." She knew, on the one hand, that he was right. Equally, though, she simply didn't know what else to do; she couldn't stop feeling what she felt, it wasn't possible.

And he was just as bad ~ he'd unashamedly goaded Reese into throwing the first punch. Come to think of it. "Yeah. But at least you an' 'im can 'ave somethin' in common when I've finished this meal," she said, her voice soft and her gaze dangerous. "You know, bein' beaten up by a girl. Imagine." She knew why he'd said that, but it was too good an opportunity to miss out on completely. So she gave him a gentle (for her) and almost companionable thump on his leg. It wouldn't do for him to think he could get away with it without repercussion, after all. "Though, the 'ealer said I should rest. I might wait till tomorrow." Her gaze was amused and in fairness most of her attention was on the food.

He was wrong, though, about what he said next and Vega looked at him. "I'm not gonna walk away from my family cos of you, you steaming numpty. If it 'appens, it'll be cos of me. 'cos I deserve to 'ave my choices respected an' that's what this is about." It was, fundamentally, the first time that Vega had made a choice like this. It was new to them, the fact that she wasn't doing what was expected of her, wasn't trying to fit into the biqaj way. Or what they thought of that as being. Ironically, the faint flickering glow of the fire reflected the silver in her veins, her blood shining beneath her skin. "I'm glad you like Papa, though. He likes you, too." Vega knew that, but it was important that Arlo understood. "An' though I want him to like you, it's not necessary that he does. It's necessary 'e respects that bein' with you is my choice to make."

Which led her to rules and Arlo grinned. But what he said in response to her caused a mirrored expression of surprise on her face. "Alrigh', steady on there Edna. No need to get over emotional." Vega used her bread to mop up every last bit of the contents of her bowl, which she then put down beside her with care. Purposefully, she concentrated on doing that for a short while. "An' I thought it probably was implied, but you know, I dunno. I mean, it'd be easier if we were monkeys." She was entirely serious when she said that and she looked at him with a complete lack of awareness of how ridiculous it might sound. "If we were monkeys, an' you were my mate, then I'd pick fleas off of you an' you'd pick fleas off of me, an' we'd kill any other monkey what tried any flea-pickin. This is just all complicated."

Shrugging, she picked up her bowl and his, then took them to go and wash them out. She'd had more than enough of sitting around. "So, I figure it was worth double checkin' cos you know, all this other stuff is complicated, an' I thought clear communication is best." Even down to the picking off of each other's fleas. Vega knelt down in front of the bowl of warm water, nestled there in orange sand to make washing things easier and she busied herself with that, silent for a few moments before moving back over to him, sitting down and pulling herself close to him. Wrapping her arms around him, she leaned her forehead against his and whispered. "I love you too, you dweeb." Then, she nestled into his arms and asked."So come on, it's only fair. I made a rule. It's your turn."
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"You think I can't cook without that pan?" Arlo shot back, both amused and confounded when she teased him. "It's not a magic pan you know. It's..." He paused, savoring a mouthful of the thick soup while he considered how best to explain. "It's the difference between good and better," he concluded. "It's not just seasoning in the sense of oiling the pan, heating it and so on. It's a matter of what's been cooked in it over time. The pan retains some of that flavor, and builds on it over time." It was the reason, he explained, for not cooking sweet things and savory things in the same cast iron pan.

"And some things you should never cook in them. Like sauces made of tomatoes." Still, somehow he'd suspected, after the fact, that the girl comment was going to come back to haunt him. He'd have done it anyway. "Sorry about that," he said when she bumped him, but he was grinning nonetheless before he pulled her closer and kissed her again. "I knew you wouldn't like it. But you know I didn't mean it either. It was like lobbing an arrow at him, meant to strike a sensitive spot." It had of course, and had probably been largely responsible for Reese throwing the first punch.

She was right though, and Arlo knew it. Her choices were hers and her family needed to respect them. Whether it was him or something else didn't really matter. But he'd rather it wasn't him to make things more difficult for her. But then she went on to lay out one of the oddest analogies he'd heard before, and he snorted. "Monkeys? Very romantic," he said with mock seriousness.

Still Vega had made a good point. This relationship stuff was more complicated than he'd have imagined it would be. If she wanted him to make some rules of his own though, that was a tricky one. Urging her to leave the dishes for later, or for him, and sit back down wrapped up and warm, Arlo shrugged. "Maybe you don't call me Edna, steaming or dweeb in front of anyone else? I've got a reputation to uphold you know," he teased her.
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"I assumed it was," magic, she meant. Vega looked at him as he appeared both incredulous and amused at once. "I mean, I assumed it must be, the way you fussed round it." But no cooking savoury and sweet in the same pan, nope, and never tomatoes? "Why not?" Vega asked before she realised that she had and she gave in to the simple fact of her approaching domesticity and asked the other question that had been on her mind, too. "An' what's the diff'rence between a pot an' a pan, Arlo?" Was it a cast iron pot or a cast iron pan? Were all pots pans but not all pans pots? As she caught herself thinking these things, she glared at him. "It's a good job I like you so much you know."

He was sorry about the girl comment he said, but his apology was accompanied by a wide grin and she didn't believe he was sorry for a minute. However, that was because he could tell she wasn't upset by it; Vega knew well enough that, had she been genuinely upset, he'd have been genuinely apologetic. It was how they were. "S'alright. Since it's you. I'll pound you tomorrow." Except he pulled her into his arms and kissed her and Vega decided that she'd forgiven him entirely.

Except he spoke about love and all that stuff, which of course in turn made her feel awkward, so she called him Edna. It wasn't that she didn't feel it right back, it was just all far too... something. She didn't know, in truth. He seemed spectacularly unimpressed with her monkey analogy and she grinned at that. "I'm not tryin' to be romantic, Arlo. I'm jus' sayin' there seem to be rules an' neither of us know them. But we've both got 'em an' it's irksome. Pickin' fleas would be a sight easier." As he fussed, at least in her mind, she couldn't help but smile and she abandoned the washing up and moved back over to him. "It's a'right, Arlo. I think, jus' neither of us were prepared for this. I mean, I knew I 'ad feelin's for you, but I thought it'd be like, you know, jus' sharin' a bed with my short friend. I thought you'd still be just my friend, I guess, but yer not. Not any more, you're a hundred times more than that, now. More. Though, yer still short, of course." He was taller than her, these trials, but still, that was a classic. Never went out of fashion, never got old. Not for her, anyhow.

"I didn't expect it to be like this. Not out 'ere an' certainly not in there, neither," when she spoke of out here she gestured to the camp and 'in there' was most certainly their tent. "an' that is not a complaint. It's great. It's better than great, an' I love it. Us. You. Those things, I love." Vega shrugged and nestled into him, pulling herself to him with a ferocity which she'd never thought she'd feel. "It's jus' unnervin' cos it's more than I thought it could be. I mean, for me. Ergh. Shurrup, Arlo. Why 'ave you got to talk about feelin's all the time?"

But his rule, though? That caught her off guard and Vega guffawed. "an' what reputation is this, exactly Arlo Creede? An' who with?" Reaching up her arm to wrap behind his head, she pulled him to her and kissed him, communicating far better in that way than she ever managed with words. "But I think I've called you a steaming pillock and dweeb lots of times. Granted, Edna was a first, but what about wart? She grinned, kissed him again and then gave a very over-dramatic sigh. "A'righ', if you insist. You win." Her eyes lit with amusement and a hundred other feelings. She hadn't been expecting this when they got together, wasn't prepared for the depth of feeling, the intensity or the passion she felt around him. Still, she was still her, and he was still him. "I'll just call you Scrapper, shall I? Or, I dunno, Thumper?"
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Why not tomatoes? Arlo shrugged, and drew closer to Vega in an effort to keep her as warm as possible. "The acid in them. It can react with the metal and leach iron into your food as you're cooking it," he explained. "If you're going to do it, then only after the pan is very well seasoned." Like it used to be, was the implication. Before she'd meddled with it. Of course she might not have really wanted to know the difference between a pot and a pan. But Vega ought to know by now. Don't want to know, don't ask. "It's the use of them, partly," he explained. But also, pots tended to be deeper and have handles on both sides, where pans were more commonly shallow and had one long handle. Either of them could have lids, he added. So now she knew.

"I wasn't serious about it being romantic," he told her then, referring to monkeys and flees. "I was joking. It's not. But I take your point." But did he talk about feelings? Often? "I don't think I do," he considered. "Except when you started it first." He was fairly sure it was her that started it and him that responded wholeheartedly. But either way, it was sincere all the same. "If I don't have a reputation already," he said, grinning and teasing her. "I'd like to build one without someone thinking Edna or dweeb as soon as they see me." Not a very good place to start in his opinion. But here at camp, just the two of them? It hardly mattered.

"It's late you know. Cold. And the healer said you were to rest and I was to make sure you did," he reminded her then, and meantime he climbed to his feet and checked on the horses and the fire one more time. "Which means sleep I'd say," Arlo added then and offered her his hand to help her up and inside the tent. So far as he was concerned, that healer had put him in charge, at least until she was better. In which case, he planned to take full advantage.
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Just after, just before.

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REWARDS

VEGA

  • Knowledge:
    • Cooking: Don't put tomatoes in a cast iron pan (or pot!)
    • Discipline: Sitting still
    • Psychology: Relationships are weird
    • Psychology: Relationships have rules
    • Rhetoric: The Monkey Analogy
    Loot: None
    Injuries:
    • Previous concussion, healing.
    Fame: None

    Thread Points: 10/10
    Collaboration: 5/5


- - - - - - -

ARLO

  • Knowledge:
    • Caregiving: Dealing with a difficult patient
    • Cooking: Barley and Mushroom Soup
    • Cooking: Chicken Broth
    • Cooking: Add meat to soup for extra flavour
    • Cooking: Don't cook tomatoes in a cast iron pan
    • Logistics: Planning for an absence
    • Persuasion: Backup is good
    • Psychology: Relationships are weird
    • Psychology: Relationships have rules
    Loot: None
    Injuries: None
    Fame: None

    Thread Points: 10/10
    Collaboration: 5/5


- - - - - - -

Comments: You two were incredibly sappy in this thread. It was excruciatingly adorable. It is so amusing to see how far this relationship has come. I vaguely felt the need to drop Cassion in and have him say "What about that kiss doll? Don't you love me?"

Would have been epic.

If you feel I've missed anything or if you have questions about your review, please don't hesitate to send me a quick PM. Thank you!
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I'm bad, and that's good. I will never be good, and that's not bad. There's no one I'd rather be then me.
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