[Scalvoris Docks] Mirror, Mirror...

[Arlo Creede]

Cylus 14, 718

It was early morning, mid-afternoon or even late evening so far as Arlo could tell, when he opened his eyes to utter darkness aboard the Wanderlust, there wrapped up in bed beside Vega. Cylus was a confounding season, the dark of night was the same as that of trial-time and every time in between. The only way you could tell for sure from inside their cabin, was by listening to the sounds outdoors. Outdoors, on the docks, where fishmongers and laborers and the like kept their schedules like clockwork, no matter the time of the arc. Only the worst of storms kept them from it, and the skies were clear as a bell outdoors.

The past few trials were a blur, they'd been chaotic, worrisome at times. But now they'd finally been allowed a good night's uninterrupted sleep. They'd fallen into bed without even lighting a lamp, and he'd slept harder than usual. Carefully rolling out of bed so he didn't disturb Vega, Arlo sait up, pulled his trousers on and padded on bare feet to the bath to splash some cold water on his face, before getting dressed and going off to fix them both some breakfast.

Filling the basin and leaning over to splash a bit of water onto his face, Arlo hissed through clenched teeth. Though why he'd expected it to be anything but freezing cold was a wonder. It was shocking, and as a result, he jerked his elbow and sent the basin crashing to the floor in the dark, where it landed with a clatter. So much for not waking Vega, he thought dryly as he finally surrendered to needing some light, and brought a match to the lantern hanging over where the basin had been.

Soft light filled the small privy and as Arlo straightened with the basin in his hand, he caught his own reflection in the mirror. For just an instant, it was like spying a stranger staring back at him. The bowl dropped from his hands, its impact rang out as it spun on the floor before stopping. If that didn't rouse Vega though it wasn't his plan, then she'd somehow lost her hearing overnight. But Arlo didn't notice. "What the..." But then he did know that face after all. Him. But not the same him as last he'd checked. But how? That hadn't occurred to Arlo yet.

For reasons that couldn't quite be explained, he reached out and touched the image in the mirror, the one looking back at him, then touched his jaw. Yeah, that was him, sure enough. And on further inspection, it wasn't just his face that had changed. But all of him from head to toe. Leaner, lanker maybe. The roundness of his cheeks was gone, his features somewhat more defined. The reason however, was one that in his current confounded state, hadn't occurred to him yet. "If this is your idea of a joke Cassion," he mumbled with all due respect to his Immortal of choice, "It isn't funny." Truth was, Cassion would probably think so, and would be barking with laughter just about now.

[Vega]

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"Mmm, what?" Vega murmured. She was only half awakened by the first noise and she flopped her arm to where he was, or where he usually was at least. But no, not there now and Vega frowned. They'd been so tired, so emotionally drained the pair of them that last night, they'd fallen into bed and not even bothered with lighting a lamp. From the time that she'd set foot in the Order of the Adunih on the last trial of the last season, all with the intention of just getting some contraceptive, things had gone haywire. She'd been possessed by a fire-demon thing, which had caused her to run away up the mountain while he, unaware of her predicament, had gone on the final leg of the Game of Cassion. He'd found her up there, though, and together they had worked to try and control it and then, just when that whole situation had finally been kind of sorted to the point that they'd come back to the Wanderlust, they'd managed exactly four breaks of peace and quiet before the last storm had hit in the shape of the party on the docks, leading to the kidnappings and all that went with them.

Last night, she'd fallen asleep in his arms almost as soon as her head rested on his chest. When she slept, that night, she slept hard and he disentangled himself from her in the morning, a lot of breaks later and yet, she'd barely moved. The first sound of the basin hitting the floor only half woke her, too.

The second crash, though, that had her up and moving. "Arlo!?" She heard the noise coming from the privy of all places, but she didn't care, didn't think, just reacted. If there was a pirate hidden in there or something, fighting with him or trying to hurt him and they so much as put a hand on him, she was going to kill them. She'd done it to those bandits back in Ne'haer, she thought as she grabbed her sword from where it hung by the side of the bed. Unconcerned for might-be or could-happen, she kicked the door open and there was a man she didn't recognise.

Vega was in a short satin nightgown, no shoes on her feet and her skin was already lifting in goose-flesh due to the cold, but the half breed did not notice and she most certainly did not care. Her sword skills had improved enormously since they'd met and she had the tip of the blade at his throat in less than a half trill, unless of course he did something to stop it. She'd kill him in an instant, without thought or remorse if he had hurt Arlo Creede. "Where is 'e, you..." She snarled the words as she looked into his eyes, this man who she didn't know until she met his gaze. As soon as she saw his eyes looking back at her, Vega's sword fell from her hand and clattered on the floor. "Arlo?" Her irises were all white, no colour to them at all except the black of the pupils.

"Arlo?" Stepping forward Vega lifted her hand to his face, a deep frown on hers. She'd know those eyes anywhere and now that she came to look at him, he looked different, but yet, it was him. "Arlo you steamin' dweeb, what in the name of all the Immortals 'ave you done?" Her hands cupped his face and then moved. His neck, shoulders, chest, she wasn't shy. "It's you. But, different. You've lost that ..." Her hands were moving over his bare chest without really thinking about it, noting the differences as they did. "I mean. It's you. I know it's you but. Did you.." He was muscular, lean and even a little bit taller, though not much. Looking up at him, Vega realised just what he looked like.

"Arlo, did you get older?"

[Arlo Creede]

Arlo heard Vega calling out from the other room. He'd even heard her getting up and grabbing her weapon. But hearing wasn't acknowledging or even fully comprehending. He was too befuddled by the face looking back at him in the mirror. The rest was mostly noise. He traced his jaw curiously, trying to figure out just how or when this had happened.

As a result when Vega kicked the door open and charged in, Arlo spun on his heel and at the same time, looked for something to turn into a weapon. To fight off some unknown attacker, or to defend her with...But then he blinked and figured out what was the matter. She was seeing exactly what he'd[/b] been seeing. "Vega, it's me," he said, just a blink of an eye before she dropped her sword and stared at him open mouthed. He could relate.

"I didn't," he said as she examined him up close and personal. "I don't think I did anything." Had he, or had something happened? There for a trill or two he was completely at at a loss. "What? What did I lose?" he asked, and then looked at himself in the mirror again. Vega was right. It was still him. He was just, "I think I did, maybe." Knitting his brow, Arlo frowned and thought back, looking for a reason. Had there bit a time during the last few trials when he'd felt strange?

And then he turned back round, shaking his head as a thought struck him. There had been a moment like that. "It was the potion...some blue concoction in a chemist's vial. The stars sang, time acted strangely and there was," he considered and then let out a string of curses under his breath. "My stepfather was right. Never trust a gypsy. Not for a trill." No matter what had happened afterwards, taking a sip of the stuff that night had seemed like a lark. What could the harm be? Hindsight was a funny thing though, especially when it was looking back at you in the mirror,
Arlo thought.

[Vega]

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That she had pulled her sword and pointed it at him, ready to kill if needs be, was completely not something which Vega expected. However, it was also more or less immediately forgotten as she realised that the man in front of her was hers. Just… different. How this could be, she had no idea but she needed to know that he was alright and so she abandoned any semblance of personal space as her hands moved over his chest, his arms and back. ”Don’t be stupid, you must ‘ave done somethin’,” she said and shook her head.

What had he lost? Vega looked at him and raised an eyebrow. ”Your face has thinned. You look.. well, like you but older. You lost the last bits of lookin’ like a kid, Arlo.” Her hand moved to his face and she smiled. ”Yer gonna be havin’ all the women flockin’ to you.” With a sigh, she considered and then remembered something which she now, of course, realised was significant. ”When I was fallin’ asleep last night, I thought I should tell you ‘ow much stronger you’ve got. It’s nice. Good. I mean, it feels… look, yeah, alright, you got more muscles, stop goin’ on about it.” What she was trying to say was that she had noticed his body shape being different, just slightly, but hadn’t really thought to comment, she said. They were tired, for one, and also, ”it’s the first time we’ve stopped still since Zi’da, so I thought maybe all that rough mountain livin’ had made you all chiselled.” She was teasing him, but also not.

It was undeniably still him and the more that she spoke with him, looked at him, the more obvious that became. As the colours bled back into her eyes, Vega realised something and, as was her way, blurted it out. ”I don’t think I’ve ever told you just how damn good you look. An’ now, you’re jus’ gonna ‘ave to believe me because now you look even better. You did what now?” She had been quite prepared to give him a compliment, but now? Vega looked at Arlo and her eyes took on a more dangerous hue.

He’d drunk a blue potion in a chemist’s vial. The stars sang, time acted strangely and there was a gypsy? Vega looked at him with disbelief on her face. ”The stars sang? Arlo Creede, are you tellin’ me that you took a blue potion from a gypsy an’ drank it not knowin’ what it was?” There was a distinct look on her face and the tinge of red starting to spot into her eyes. ”Was this a female gypsy by any chance? Biqaj?” Dangerous questions with tricky answers, judging by Vega’s face.

”Did it occur to you that it could hurt you? Or kill you? What if it had aged you twenty arcs, Arlo? Or turned you into a woman or… you know, sometimes,” she shook her head as she knelt to retrieve her sword and then stalked out of the small privy. It didn’t seem like stepping away from the room meant stepping away from sharing her opinion, though. ”Jus’ when I think I’ve got some idea about all this, you go and do somethin’ reckless an’ stupid.” Shock had turned to worry and that, of course, displayed as anger. Because now, she was thinking about all the what if scenarios. ”Is our life not excitin’ enough for you? Are you un’appy? Do you want somethin’ different that you think it’s sensible to do somethin’ so obviously stupid jus’ cos a pretty girl offered you somethin’ exotic? Are you some kind of..” It was probably for the best that he never learned Rakahi, all things considered. ”Cos you might ‘ave aged in your body, but yer blatantly still a child in yer ‘ead!” Needless to say, she didn’t seem pleased and was set to discover that every argument felt better when you slammed a door. In this case, back to their bedroom to get dressed.

[Arlo Creede]

He must have done something to cause this? Sure, Arlo was fairly confidant that he probably had. But it was the principle of the thing after all. Did Vega not believe that some strange occurrence or even entity could have targeted him for reasons nefarious, or no reason at all? And that he must be to blame? There was a part of Arlo always prepared to argue with her. But after another good look in the mirror, well it probably wouldn't do him any good.

When she explained what she meant though about what he'd lost, and how he'd changed, he quirked a brow and then narrowed his eyes at her. Mostly teasing her, but still..."Are you implying I was soft and fat before?" Then again, he hadn't been either of those things but he could more than see the changes, he could feel them in the way he moved, the way his clothing had felt a little more roomy the last trial or two, now he thought about it. "There haven't been women flocking before, don't see why they'd start now," he argued, rubbing his chin to find that the growth there was coarser than it had been before.

Turning back to Vega again, he was about to take her in his arms when she stopped him up short, asking about the potion. That must have been it really, it was the only thing he could think that had caused it. "Well maybe looking back it wasn't such a good idea," he admitted. "But she drank from it first and didn't seem to be affected." The woman in fact must have been immune to the stuff. Chances were she sipped that stuff a lot and if it was to have the same effect on her...well she'd have been a bent, gray haired and wrinkled old hag by now.

Then of course Vega turned on him and he was naturally offended. "What does being a woman or a biqaj have to do with anything?" he asked. "And she drank the stuff first. It didn't seem to do her any harm." Sure, in retrospect it could have been much worse, but so far as he was concerned, that wasn't the point. She charged out of the bathroom and Arlo followed her, catching the door before she could slam it in his face. "Unhappy? Why? Because I took a sip of something blue?" And he still didn't see what being a woman, the gypsy that was, had to do with anything.

[Vega]

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"No!" Vega looked at him with a grin when he asked if she was implying if he was soft and fat before. "Don't be deliberately irritatin', or I'll thump you." Her hands were on his chest at that point and she smiled at him, amusement on her face. "I like how you looked before, an' I like how you look now. But it's who you are that I love. Stop bein' difficult." As for the women flocking, Vega shook her head slightly and wondered whether he did it on purpose or whether it was just natural talent. Maybe he'd had some training. "Well, that must have been right disappointin' for you, that lack of women flockin'. Maybe now you'll have some better options."

And her perfectly reasonable questions provoked just the sort of answers that one would expect, Vega thought. The woman drank from it first so it was alright? Oh, U'frek save her had he really just said that? Yes, it seemed, he had. Like none of it mattered, like it wasn't important, he insisted on it being irrelevant that the undoubtedly pretty biqaj woman who had fed him this drug was involved. He had no idea, she concluded and she turned and exited, but he walked behind her, stopping her from slamming the door like the child he was. A good door slam was the least that he deserved in her mind.

But then, what did he do? Made it a hundred times worse in her red and turquoise eyes and when he asked, oh so flippantly and casually if this was all because he took a sip of something blue, the colours of Vega's eyes intensified and she breathed in through her teeth. "No, Arlo. That's not why." She wasn't shouting, at least. In fact, she sounded positively calm. Not that it would fool him for a second. "It was obviously magical, what you drank. It could 'ave made you older, like it did ~ or a lot older. It could have killed you, or taken all your memories. It could 'ave been a love potion what you an' yer pretty biqaj girl drank together, couldn't it?" He didn't get it, Vega realised. He genuinely didn't understand.

Sighing, she tried to calm herself and failed miserably, but got herself to the point that, instead of flouncing into the bedroom, she sat down on the chair in the small living area. "I'm angry that you did this without even thinkin' about us." Something so obviously dodgy, she said, could have impacted him enormously. Could have changed him fundamentally and for the rest of his life. Had, in fact. "An' what you seem to not be understandin' is that when it impacts you, it impacts us. What if, Arlo? What if all of the other 'undred things 'ad happened. What if it had 'urt you, or made you forget me, or I'd lost you? Because a pretty girl offered it to you. It's just..." She stopped before she said the next word, closing her mouth as though to keep it in. Then, "Actually, you know what," she stood, not looking at him just trying to keep her focus on not shouting any more. "I'm cold. I'm gonna go get dressed." It was cold and she'd woken suddenly and charged in. Now that the adrenaline of thinking it was someone else was wearing off, Vega was growing increasingly aware of her state of dress, not least because of the temperature.

She wanted to throw things, yell at him and tell him in no uncertain terms that this was a damn rule that he'd tromped right over without thought or consideration. That she knew they took risks as part of who they were, but there were risks and then risks, and being persuaded to eat or drink something so easily, by a pretty smile and ample bosom (all of which was very clearly true in her mind, though he'd said none of it) well it was just irresponsible. But it was in that word that she was stuck. That word which she had nearly said. Irresponsible. That was different and difficult because that was nagging, leg gnawing, lecturing territory. Yet it was how she felt. Breathing out, Vega came to a conclusion. "I'm sorry," she said, quietly, turning to look at him and smiling a slight smile. "It's jus' a bit of a shock, is all, an' it's been a bit of a time jus' lately an' my temper's frazzled. I've got no right to tell you what you should or shouldn't do. I'm gonna get dressed, I'm bloody freezin'." That was very much true and she made her way to the bedroom to pull on long thick socks and a warm outfit. She was furiously angry but, in that word, she'd gone over a line and she didn't quite know how to deal with that. Retreat, she figured, was the best option while she worked that out. Once she was dressed, she'd come out and do her best to just put it to one side and get on with the trial or, conversely, pretend that nothing was wrong Depending on one's point of view, of course.

[Arlo Creede]

He was never deliberately difficult, Arlo maintained. What he was, he told Vega with something of a grin, was misunderstood. Which wasn't in any way his own doing, he maintained, but didn't say aloud. "There aren't any better," he told her though and much more seriously. Not even close. He had eyes only for her, though she didn't seem to always believe it. As in this case, where she was quick to make a connection between the woman, and the potion...and his brief lack of judgment.

But she was right in a sense. He had no idea what had her so wound up and jumping to faulty conclusions. She was being completely unreasonable, so far as he was concerned. Whatever the impact of the potion had been, it was done now. It wasn't as if he'd sprouted a third eye or ended up short a limb, or two. Could it have done any of those things that she rattled off? Sure. "But it didn't," he said. "If it's all about what ifs, then a tumble down a hole that opened up out of nowhere could have killed either one of us or both. But they didn't."

None of those things had happened, he told her as he followed her into their bedroom. It hadn't killed him or turned him old as dirt. It hadn't caused him to forget her. And it had nothing to do with a woman. Still, he thought but didn't add, would he have been so quick to taste the stuff if it had been handed over by a filthy, thick necked, nefarious looking thug with beady eyes? Probably not, if he was honest. Still, he hadn't seen the harm at the time.

"Don't be sorry," he said when she sat down on the bed and apologized. "It was a shock to me too, looking in the mirror and seeing I've changed. But Vega, it was a temporary lapse in judgment, that I can't take back cause it's done now. Curiosity about the potion, but lesson learned. It wasn't about a girl having offered it. Why can't you understand that I don't want anyone but you? That I'm not tempted by anyone else?" he asked.

[Vega]

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Somewhere between teasing each other and then, not, it grew serious and Vega was left with a very clear sense that it was more serious to her than to him and in more ways than one. Which was fine and she just had to remember it, take it into account because she was not going to become the person she nearly just had been. Yelling at him about responsibility? No, that wasn't her and it wasn't who she was and she was not going to become that person. Yet, she could throttle him, still. Happily. It left her feeling conflicted and confused because it didn't feel unreasonable to her and yet, it was over a line too. How that could be, she didn't know.

"There's a difference, there, Arlo, an' you know it," she replied, when he likened it to falling down holes. "One was a choice an' the other wasn't." It was an important distinction that one and she firmly believed that he knew that if he thought about it. Maybe for more than half a trill. As for it having nothing to do with a woman? Vega looked at him and raised a single eyebrow. "That's crap an' you know it. If it 'ad been an old bloke offerin' it, you wouldn't 'ave been distracted," It was something they did, she said, when they were selling things. "Handsome men sell things women buy, beautiful women sell things men do. It's good business sense, Arlo." And he'd walked right into it.

She sat on the bed and looked at him in some surprise as he spoke, listening to him as she pulled on her thick woolen socks. Not her most attractive outfit, she considered, her nightgown and socks. What he said, though, caught her a little off guard. "Arlo," she said and frowned slightly, as she tried to put into words what was happening in her thoughts. She carried on getting dressed, moving as quickly as she could because of the freezing temperatures. It was warmer in here thanks to the orange sand, but it was still cold.

"It's not that. Or, it's not really that. I dunno. Maybe it is," she said and then smiled slightly though her eyes still swirled in different colours. "I mean. Look, it's fine. It doesn't matter, no 'arm was done." Vega finally pulled her dress on and wrapped herself up in a thick shawl and then sat back down, next to him. "The fact that it was a pretty girl what gave it to you means you were more likely to take it. Made it less likely that you'd think about the consequences." It was difficult to explain, Vega said but she was alright with that. In theory and in principle. "Yer a man, Arlo, an' you're not blind. I know that. A pretty girl is gonna distract you. If I'd been there, though, I'd have punched you an' been cross if she did. Even though it's understandable it's against the rules for me to see it." No one accused her of making sense, she told him, and that was fine. "But with all those pretty girls out there, it's me you choose an' me you love. I know that. I don't really understand why, but that's ok, 'cos I know it. Heart an' head."

She sighed slightly, trying to make the jumble of her thoughts make sense. "But it isn't that you didn't think about what it could do to you, it's that you didn't think about us. About me. An' jus' now, that made me really angry an' it still does." There was more to it than that, though, and that was obvious in her expression. "But then, it gets into me yellin' at you for bein' irresponsible an' you're not responsible for me, jus' yourself, an' we're here by choices, both of us. Freely an' in our own way." Not held down by the way other people did things, not interested in becoming like them, either, Vega said and it was in that bit that she got confused. "I'm not prepared to become some naggin' ball an' chain what tells you you need to be more responsible. Next thing, I'll be tellin' you to cut yer 'air an' get a job. Do what you like it's nothin' to do with me, but it bloody well is an' I don't like it." Vega looked at him and for the first time, since they started this, her eyes flecked blue and she smiled.

"I don't want to talk about responsibility, Arlo Creede, I jus' want you to be responsible so I can pretend that everythin' about you isn't wrapped up in everythin' about me." She leaned forward and kissed him, a brief and gentle brush of her lips against his. "That everythin' you do doesn't impact me, an' vice versa." Her eyes, always, were a mirror into what she was feeling and in the moment, she was lost in his. Just one colour, yet they spoke volumes. How, she didn't know, but there it was. "I can pretend that I don't care what you do, an' jus' focus on bein' independent, an' like I'm not bothered. But I am, Arlo, an' it was bloody irresponsible." Contrary? Yes, she'd admit to that she said. But she was also right

[Arlo Creede]

"Not necessarily," Arlo argued when Vega maintained the difference between potions and holes in the ground. True, he'd chosen to drink the potion without knowing what might happen. But the chasms that had opened up between one and then the other? Every time they set out on an adventure, a climb, a hunt or running headlong through unknown territory, they were knowingly taking a risk that something unexpected might happen. "We had less control in those cases than I did with the potion. But every time we do something new, we're taking a risk."

He guessed the point, for Vega, was we rather than you or I. Or at least that's what he thought it was. To be honest Arlo still wasn't sure what she was so angry about. "I was distracted because of all the noise and everything going on around me, more than I was by a woman," he argued, and that much was absolutely true. Too much going on, he just hadn't given it much thought. But she insisted that the fact that it was a woman had a part in his taking the potion, and Arlo finally gave an inward shrug, unwilling to argue the point anymore. Vega wasn't going to be convinced, no matter how much he believed he was right on that topic.

For him, so long as he had the wooden peg leg hung round his neck, he wasn't particularly cold. But nonetheless he pulled his clothing on and then sat down to pull on his boots while Vega talked, and then kissed him. "I wouldn't get a haircut or a job just because you told me to," he said with something of a smile. "But I am here because I want to be, just like you are. And that makes me responsible to you, and you to me." She was right, he told her. He hadn't thought. But it wasn't just, he added, that he hadn't thought of the impact on her or them. He just hadn't thought ahead at all.

"I'm sorry. It was irresponsible and I should have thought," Arlo added, standing up from the bed. Thought about him, her, them and all the rest. In this instance of course, the deed was already down and apparently hindsight wasn't going to get him back the handful of arcs he'd lost. "There's nothing for it this time though," he said, offering his hand, inviting her to go and help him fix their breakfast. "It's not all bad is it?" he teased. "Just think, I won't be able to tease you anymore, about being older than me."

[Vega]

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Those things which had happened to her lately had changed her, Vega knew. She was twitchy, more on edge than she had been and as he said that he was distracted more by the noise, by the events going on than he was by any woman, Vega looked at him with an expression that said she saw that inward shrug of his, for all that his body shape had changed, his face too, but still it was undeniably him. She sighed, the last of her anger leaving her at that expression and she shook her head. He said it and she believed he meant it - and she had to admit that he had no reason to lie, even if she'd suspected he was.

When he said, though, that he was here because he chose to be and that made them responsible to, and for, each other Vega smiled just a slight smile. She loved him, there was no doubt in her mind about that, but this notion of responsibility was a new one for her. Frankly, it made her a little uncomfortable, but that was about her, about her consideration of what responsibility was, what relationships were like. It wasn't them, she knew, and so when he said that, she grinned slightly. "Well, so long as you don't turn into some naggin' 'usband tellin' me 'ow you want me to wear my hair or 'ow I should behave when you invite yer friends for dinner, I suppose I can manage." It was complex, this relationship business and Vega wasn't entirely sure that she was ever going to fully get the hang of it. But he didn't seem to mind too much.

"It's a'right, I might even 'ave done the same thing, an' you'd probably 'ave reacted better." Or would have been hard pressed to react worse, she thought. It was just all so damned inconvenient, this being in love. He could have hurt himself and, if he had, she'd have been hurt too. She shook her head at his apology, though, "It's fine. No 'arm was done an' I was just shocked. Life's an adventure, Arlo, an' you gotta figure sometimes, things will 'ave unforeseen consequences." It was true enough and when he said it wasn't all bad, Vega looked at him with quite a different thought process than breakfast.

She took his hand, but didn't get up off the bed, rather tugged him back towards her. "The responsible thing to do, when those consequences 'appen" her eyes darkened as she looked at him and her grin turned into a more crooked smile. "Is to make sure that we understand 'em. What they mean." She seemed to be of the opinion that getting dressed had been a bad move. "An' exactly what the full extent of them are. I might need to do a very careful examination." Which it seemed she was quite keen to get started on there and then.