2018-04-24: Ten Arrows

• Log: Ten Arrows
• Cast: Gwen Whitlock, Cassidy Cain
• Where: Vane, Lunar
• Date: April 24, 2018
• Summary: Frightened by the changes wrought upon her because of her "death" by Isiris Shango'Ra's hands, Gwen Whitlock seeks the company of a friend for whom resurrection has long since become a bad habit.

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<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

Sometimes, the worst sort of mysteries are the ones you actually solve. What seemed like a blank space that occupied a critical changing point of Gwen's life had gradually filled itself in, feeling less and less like a test of courage and facing one's fears and more just an exercise of just how terrible a mind can be in regards to dreams and half-remembered traumatic events.

So that's been Gwen's week: the courier growing more and more invested in getting the new Lunar branch of the Gwen Whitlock courier business going, with a tubby horse and a wind mouse doing mental damage control.

And then, one day, Gwen decided to go to Vane. Because Cassidy and Jude and goodness knows who else is there, and enduring any antics seemed like a better choice than whatever she was doing at the moment. Riding into the mostly abandoned academic city, Gwen peeks around, slowing Gulliver to a stop. "Man... Maybe they moved on?" She itches her head. "Don't look like a place that'd keep Cass occupied for very long." Hanpan, blissfully asleep in his nest of cloth in the wagon, offers no rebuttal, and Gulliver, being a horse, simply chews on some grass that's reclaimed a part of the road. "Kinda peaceful, tho... There's birds singin', it's nice n' quiet, n'-" A rumble of thunder answers Gwen's monologue. "... Guess I better find some shelter before long."

<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.

At this time of night, the derelict city is blanketed in darkness with only a few spots of illumination flickering now and then like sparsely scattered diamonds amidst a field of black velvet. It is nothing like Meribia, bustling with activity at all hours of the day, or even some of the villages that Gwen's wagon had passed on the journey west. There is a tavern, however, its rickety sign swinging above her head whenever she parks Gulliver for the night. It is nothing all too elaborate, a slab of wood painted with a wolf's head; it is the only establishment of its kind for miles, and considering the blonde conwoman's predilections, this is as best of a place to start looking.

And once stepping inside, the courier would not be disappointed.

It is the headquarters of the Black Wolves in Lunar, though its members appear to be gone, leaving Argus the bartender and a single head of gleaming, pale-gold hair within the confines of a building in the midst of structural renovations - the only light in the room is provided by the hearth on the side, stuffed with pine logs, its comforting scent spilling into the rest of the interior. The man behind the counter is busily polishing a glass.

The thief lifts her head, letting it roll languidly towards the newcomer, fingers cradling a tumbler full of something potent and alcoholic. Green eyes flare with recognition, and her lips tilt upwards in a slight smile.

"Of all the watering holes in all the world," she remarks. "Dinnae tell me you're bored with Lunar already."

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

In her search for proper shelter, it didn't take Gwen long to find a potential candidate for where a Cassidy could be. Sure, the courier could make do with a derelict shack, or even a crop of woods if need be, but the potential of a building filled with the warmth of other people, as well as something to drink (if probably not alcoholic) is something her eyes immediately set on when it comes into view.

Parking her wagon in front and giving Gulliver a quick glance over, Gwen opens the door and steps through with a breeze of damp spring air, the door closing with a soft click behind her.

And there, of course, is Cassidy herself, sipping something that looks very tempting to the strawberry blonde's dry throat. "Cass!" Settling into a seat next to the blonde, she laughs. "Bored? 'Course not!" Gwen exclaims, a grin snaking onto her lips. "It's had its ups n' downs, sure, but it's been a long time since I've felt this much excitement in just gettin' lost. What about you?" She hesitates, getting a clear look at Cassidy's tumblr. "Don't tell me-!" Her head whips back to the bartender. "'Ey! I'll have what she's havin'!"

With that part resolved, Gwen clears her throat. "So... How's life been treatin' you? Any weird escapades or are you just layin' low for right now?"

<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.

Argus finishes polishing his glass, and sets that one in front of Gwen. He then proceeds to fill it with a rich amber liquid, similar, if not the same, to what Cassidy has in her own.

Any weird escapades or are you just layin' low for right now?

"I've been doing the same as what you've been doing," the blonde replies easily enough, taking a sip from her glass and turning those green, gold-flecked eyes back to the courier. "Ten years of nae much but sand and you feel like you've seen most of everything, but here is different. I'm still suprised at just how green everything is. Besides, that's the best way tae get tae ken a place, is it nae? Get lost in it, dinnae care much as tae where you go. Though coming here was nae my idea - was Jude's. The kind of disreputable hole that disreputable sorts like the pair of us can get lost in, I s'pose."

She tilts her head back to examinine the rafters. "Found some familiar faces, so it panned out, too." Eyes slide sidelong towards Gwen's profile. "How's life treating you, luv? Heard you were busy expanding the business."

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

Gwen eyes the tumbler as it sits innocently enough in front of her, taking a moment to enjoy the rich honey tones as the brew settled in the glass. Picking it up and sipping, she winces at the familiar, but welcome bite of the alcohol within. "Ah, that's the stuff. The forests n' greenery is nice, but I longed for a good brew to enjoy it all with." She takes a healthy sip. "I see. Glad t'hear, even if we're all strangers in a strange land. Kinda makes it all cozy-like. We're all in the same boat- even those guys from that sky city or whatever."

What's Cassidy been doing? The same thing Gwen's been doing, it seems. But how true was that?

Eying and making note of the bartender Argus's distance from her and Cassidy, Gwen purses her lips. "Speakin' of that, I'm reminded, randomly. Everythin' happened so quick that it wasn't like we really could figure out everything that was goin' on, but..." She hesitates again, trying to judge the exact angle she could slide her curiosity into the conversation, before taking a drink instead. "What exactly, uh, happened, back in the ruins? Like, I wasn't gonna even ask, since I was, uh, kinda just happy t'see you alive n' kickin' after what, uh, happened." Blue grey eyes study the swirl of bubbles collecting to the surface of her drink. "You doin' okay after all that?"

<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.

"Well, it's technically illegal, but methinks that Vane's forgotten enough that even if it was, the Guard's got other cities in Lunar tae worry about. They cannae be everywhere."

Cassidy takes another sip of her brew. "Nae tae say that you should nae be careful, though. Ay, Argus?" She waggles her eyebrows teasingly at the man, who chuffs quietly under his breath as he proceeds to wipe the counter from the other side.

Even those guys from that sky city or whatever.

"Oh, they made it out here, did they? S'pose that's what they get, poking their bloody noses in everything that's interesting. Ah well, who knows? Maybe they'll learn sommat new while they're out here. We'd all be so bloody lucky if they came back tae Filgaia, all the more grateful with what they have and stay where they bloody belong."

Elbow bracing against the counter, she props her chin onto the cup of her palm, swirling her drink around the glass absently, the look in her eyes somewhat far away, as if halfway nestled in the present and elsewhere. But the different track that Gwen adopts in their conversation has the light of focus returning back in those virid-gold depths, and those irises turn back to Gwen.

The expression that finally settles upon her pale mien is subtly amused.

"I died," she tells Gwen with a smirk. "And the Tree of Life brought me back." Fingers gesture sideways in a wave. "Vorthuzahl dinnae like so much the idea of losing the kill that was rightfully his tae belong tae someone else, so he took me there tae repair me. Nae a bad strategy, ay? Though I would nae recommend it in the least. Piss off someone tae the point that they cannae abide you dying by anybody's hand but their own, they're guaranteed tae save your bloody life just so they can kill you themselves. Either I have the devil's own luck, or I simply cannae die. Either way, I'll take it."

She winks at Gwen at that. "Y'ken me, luv. I'm the type that takes what she can get."

It's difficult by the look of her to determine whether she catches that note of concern towards her well-being, but in its own right, her words about having the Dark One's own fortune or the hilarious exaggeration that she's somehow immortal could be construed as a kind of reassurance.

"It's just as well that the bastard tries tae keep coming after me. I've a beef with him, too."

She angles her head slightly over at Gwen. "Nae so charming that I try tae get along with everyone I meet, like some people I ken."

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

Gwen shrugs. "Got no clue if they did or not, but I figure, seein' as how most of the people I've seen were present at that one spot, I figure they got taken along for the ride too. Along with that... weird... beastman guy that called himself the Lord of Calamity. Not lookin' forward to crossin' paths with him again."

If only Gwen knew.

"I wonder if we're feelin' what they felt like, comin' to live among us. The sky city people, I mean. I mean, sure, there's a lotta places where Lunar's pretty advanced, but other places, they ain't. Probably 'cause they had no reason to be. If magic's more a thing here than on Filgaia, who needs things like ARMs n' bullets? N' sanitation, well. The water ain't so rare n' precious that you gotta bomb the stuff with alcohol just to make sure you don't get somethin' disagreeable from drinkin' it. People don't got it easy here, for sure, but they definitely don't have the same problems we have."

Like the Malevolence, hiding in the background like an ever present hum.

'I died,' Cassidy says, so casually that it sneaks up on the drinking Gwen like a thief in the night. The courier sputters, coughing on her drink. Wiping her mouth on her sleeve, Gwen focuses one teary eye on Cassidy, the other still closed from her coughing. "Y'can't just say that, man! At least ease into it a little first."

But it was true, Cassidy died trying to protect Gwen. There was no mistake. "The tree of life, huh..." She breaths a sigh. "So the whole metal stuff he tried to inject you with... you weren't affected? Like, I mean, if you are n' are tryin' to hide it, I ain't gonna be disgusted or anythin'. Like, well. Yeah. I'd be fine with whatever." She drinks from her tumbler. "T'think, we stumbled across somethin' that could bring back the dead, n' we just ran off like it was no big deal." She pauses. "Okay, well, there was the dragon n' all, but- wait."

Gwen stares at Cassidy. "So, how in the worl did you get a dragon like that mad at you, Cass? Seems a little outside your general range of beings you usually interact with."

<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.

The Lord of Calamity.

Cassidy can't help but tilt her head back and laugh. She hadn't been there, so perhaps it's easier for her to dismiss the thing as a threat than most, but her following words would put those assertions to rest. "Ay, what a name, that. Got tae wonder what kind of hideous moniker he'd been born with that he has tae go around calling himself that. Could you imagine how he must've crowd-tested it for the first time?" She takes a deep breath, and announces in a booming voice: " 'FEAR ME, MORTALS, FOR I AM HERBERT, THE LORD OF CALAMITY!' ....he probably dinnae have tae bring down fire and brimstone after that, whoever he was trying tae kill at the time probably murdered themselves laughing on the spot."

She returns to her alcohol, listening to Gwen's remarks about the Lunarians with lowered lashes. "Nae the same, but perhaps just as severe. Jude says there's sommat off about every single settlement we've come across while coming here. He's probably right - it's nae anything you could see, mind. More like felt....whatever this bloody Moon Cancer-- " what she calls Malevolence. "-- is. Feels like an oilslick you cannae see until it's right on your skin."

As Gwen tries to dissect the revelation, she waves a hand. "Nae anything like that. Dinnae think it is, anyway. Methinks he jimmy-rigged some Metal Demon technoogy with Elw technology and really, if there's any species in the universe that'd be able tae do that tae whatever the Elw had left behind, it'd probably be them. Dinnae put anything in me, he just convinced my body that it needed mending. Or sommat, dinnae ken the logistics, really. S'nae like I'm the most learned when it comes tae that kind of old technology. Anyway, what matters is that I've been resurrected - plus sommat tells me it's a one-time deal anyway. I doubt very much it'd let us do that without whatever it is that Vorthuzahl used tae bridge the missing technological gaps."

But when Gwen asks about the dragon....

"Mmm." She takes another sip of her drink. "I carved his heart out of his body, once. And the second time, I shot it out of him. I fed his first heart to Berserk, still got the second. Methinks the third time around, he will nae be standing up after that. There's nae escaping it now, either he kills me, or I kill him."

Said in such a matter-of-fact way itd be like anyone talking about the weather.

"It tried tae take sommat from me, once, and I would nae be much of a thief if I let that stand."

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

As Cassidy tilts her head back and gives a hearty laugh, Gwen tilts her head, her mind slowly circling back to the concept that, really, the title 'Lord of Calamity' is pretty overdramatic. Leave it to Gwen to forget that and just go with the flow. Itching a few finger through her curly short hair, she gives Cass a lopsided smile. "It really it kinda silly, when you strip it down to brass tacks. I mean, how can someone be a lord of somethin' as abstract as calamity? Might as well call myself the Lord of Serendipity or the Lord of, uh, Okayness? If that's a word?"

Herbert, Lord of Calamity. Gwen snorts, trying to stop her laughs behind a curtain of giggles, escaping like her mouth like bubbles to the surface.

It'd take a lot to get Gwen to calm down from that, but Cassidy's mention of the 'Moon Cancer' proves to be the proper cure for bringing Gwen back down. "Yeah." She leans on the bar, her arms folded in front of her. "It's just, like, tryin' to be mindful of how true you're bein' to yourself. Which ain't all that pretty when you're someone who likes to make people feel comfortable around you, or wanna make people happy. It was a lot easier when I thought it was all about just negative emotions n' the like, 'cause that was so much easier to think on."

A sort of weariness settles on Gwen's shoulders as she picks up her drink and sips it, setting it down carefully on the bar's surface.

"So you're okay? That's good news!" Like rain in a desert, all evidence of her momentary melancholy disappears, evaporating with a sunny smile. "You're back, n' that's what matters. It wouldn't be the same without you around, causin' mischief. Maybe you're the real Lord of Calamity here, Cass." She shoots a look over at Argus, looking to see if her casual comment might has spurred some unwelcome wincing in the bartender.

Well, if he was eavesdropping, that'd be his problem, right?

"Wait, you what?" Something just makes the courier's skin go deathly pale at the mere mention of someone's heart being carved out. Even if it was a dragon's.

Maybe that makes it a little bit worse. "SO wait, it's a Metal Demon Dragon? Goddamn, Cass." She tilts her head, leaning forward. "What'd it try t'take from you?"

<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.

Is that a word?

"Well, it's a word now if it was nae before," Cassidy replies, clearly amused.

Settling her half-empty glass down, a pair of light fingers dance lightly over the lip of her glass, though her attention is still on the courier during these absent gestures; she's still not fully facing the strawberry-blonde, but her face is slightly tilted in her direction, and those striking eyes glint at their corners, directed upon where she sits. A single pale-gold curl remains trapped in the space between her palm and her cheek, ends brushing against her skin.

"Never thought of that before," she decides. "That Moon Cancer only affects you if you dinnae accept yourself, somehow. Would explain why the likes of us seem immune tae changing intae those others. Ach, but would nae call myself a philosopher or a thinker, anyway." Between the two of them, it was Jude who was the thinker - a creature who spends most of his hours turning over his own thoughts. "Should have known that it would nae be as simple as all of that being the direct manifestations of the lies we tell ourselves. If that was the case, I'd be in bloody trouble, and I'm pretty sure this universe dinnae need more than what I already give it at a daily basis."

To hear someone so happy that she's still around, however, barely ellicits much of a visible response from the woman, never one so equipped to comfortably communicate softer sentiments, save for a smile that speaks of nothing but the faint spark of amusement that returns to her eyes. "Well, there's nae accounting for taste," she tells Gwen. "And I always knew you were a sucker for punishment, anyway."

Wait, you what?

Maybe Gwen was changing her mind about wanting her around? It doesn't stop the conwoman from flashing that signature, cutting smile towards her direction. "Ay. Twisted a blade and cut upward, reached in and yanked it out," she says, simply. "Metal Demons bank their entire existence on being invincible, if nae unkillable and it will nae fail tae drive them crazy if an ordinary human being proves them wrong in that regard, especially when you emphatically tell them that you're nae anybody special. Any comparisons tae our bloody weaknesses are guaranteed tae rile them, why did you think I got Berserk as mad as he was? Enough tae try and really end me, at least. You dinnae do what I do without being able tae ken what people want or dinnae want by spending just a few minutes with them, luv. Take yourself, for instance."

This time, she cants her head and shifts in her seat, tilting her body to face the courier fully.

"You hate being alone. Your very profession requires you tae touch other people's lives in a way - big or small, it dinnae matter, so long as you do. Also explains why you're so dependable, someone gives you sommat tae deliver, you find the recipient nae matter what, not just because the trust is important tae you, but also because you want tae see what lives on the other side and engage it. Also why you dinnae treat Gulliver as just some horse, nae when he keeps you company in the periods when touching a life is nae possible for you, the long stretch between points A and B. You find some fulfillment in being a nexus point of different connections, because the only thing that makes you happier than touching the life of someone else is getting other people tae do the same."

She picks up her glass at that, and takes a swallow.

And when Gwen asks her what Vorthuzahl tried to take from her, to ellicit the kind of singleminded, savage retribution that she delivered not just once, but over and over again...

"My Present." And with that cryptic reply, and one that probably only makes sense to her and one other, she flashes Gwen a winsome smile.

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

"I can't remember who told me how it works, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. If it was negative emotions or acts, it would've had a pattern that reflected that. Instead, you got people like Jack, Ida, n' Rosaline turnin' into Hellions. I mean, that's, what, a remorseful former knight, someone who was tryin' to look into her past and is a pretty swell person, n' a nun who spent her time tryin' to figure out who set that orphanage on fire. People who ain't saints, sure, but they're far from villains. They're just Drifters, like us. N' that makes it real clear that any one of us could slip down that same slope, connections and good intentions be damned."

She straightens, closing her eyes, her mouth set. "But it ain't a death sentence. Even as Hellions, they're still them. So we gotta make sure we don't fall into the same traps, and try to hoist them out of theirs when the opportunity comes up." Just as Cassidy did with Gwen, once upon a time.

Cassidy's comments on Gwen's taste cause the redhead to chuckle. "Is that how you see hangin' out with me?" she teases. "Seems like a pretty weak punishment, if I'm your prize."

And Cassidy proceeds to lay down her theory, both on Metal Demons, and on Gwen herself. Talk of hearts being cut and yanked out are quickly overtaken by theorems on weakness, on connections, and trust. Loneliness.

There's a moment of complete silence, with the freckled Gwen just staring at Cassidy, gobsmacked and open-mouthed, even if the entire description feels more of a compliment to her than anything else.

"Maybe that's why I've been so miserable lately," Gwen finally admits, with something of a sigh of relief. "But maybe that's the reason I came t'visit you, besides just makin' sure you're doin' fine. You're probably one of the few people that I can share this with, fer reasons other than trust. I mean, I trust ya, but I got a lotta people I could trust, for the reasons you kinda just outlined there."

"Truth is, I died too, so there's that. You ain't the only dead woman walkin' around!" She takes a long swig of her tumbler frowning as she realizes she's drank the entire glass down. "I kid, but I really did die. Kind of. See, uh, that blue-eyed illusionist guy? He, uh, visited." She gives Cassidy another smile, weak and self-effacing. "Tried runnin' away, n' I tried fightin' back. Just... wasn't in the cards, I guess. I didn't have your luck. But I survived, so there's that."

She just looks at her glass, as if willing it to fill up on its own despite making no move to indicate as such to Argus. "Took me a while to piece together what happened. A friend of mine found me where the guy left me. Wish I could've thanked him properly, since, well, this was in Krosse. If he hadn't brought me to my wagon, I likely would've been found by someone a lot worse. Because then, what my ARM did to ensure I survived would've been all for nothin'. Not t'mention Rigdobrite probably havin' to deal with someone nabbin' a bit of his power and then just sqaunderin' it by dyin'."

She still hasn't looked up from that glass. "Though, it wasn't like I was rationally decidin' 'hey, yeah, let's just steal some power from this Guardian and make this ARM do somethin' real weird. .... Well, okay, I did. I just didn't... think about what the cost'd be if I survived."

If Gwen was going to offer a clarification, it's not coming just yet. "Since then, just kinda... wondered if what changed in me was gonna bring danger to people. Or that I'd be a danger, once the old me wore off. I think I'm still me, but what if I ain't?"

 <Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.

"Dinnae mean they're nae horrible people," Cassidy remarks, looking at her companion from the lip of her tumbler. "The one thing you can always count on regarding other humans is their endless capacity tae hide what's truly ugly about themselves. But you'd ken better than me, luv. I dinnae ken Jack, or the nun. Ida, though, ay....s'pose nobody so green would have done a lot of evil in her short life, or so pampered and privileged, but I'm nae the sort tae ruling anything out, either. Still, it figures that even Moon Cancer cannae be so simple as tae act as an amplifier of people's bad selves."

She says nothing about saving others from their Hellion selves, or being careful about the slippery slope that turns others into Hellions, but she has always claimed that she is not as philanthropic as others, and would just as see Ida remain how she is if that is what she truly wants. But when Gwen teases her about being a poor prize in spending time with her, all she gets is a faint smile - it is a strange expression; she is capable of wearing thousands of different kinds, and the nature of the curve that plays upon her lips is rarer than most.

For all that she is capable of bending someone else's ears with so many words, her silences speak volumes, too; pages and pages of a story written in cipher, only to be decoded in due time, whenever Cassidy deigns to give someone the key. Soon, perhaps, or never.

She doesn't seem to notice her companion's gobsmacked expression when she pushes her glass towards Argus for a refill, in tandem with Gwen's own silent request. With their drinks refreshed, she picks up her crystal receptacle and gives the courier a tilted look.

Maybe that's why I've been so miserable lately.

"Mnhn."

Truth is, I died, too.

"Ay. Veritable phoenixes, we are. I've died three times, so far - Jude may be right after all, when he first called me a cat. Once I burn through my final six lives, s'pose that means it's all over for me, but I would nae recommend doing it more than once. Methinks it hurts more and more, rising from your own bloody grave, though this last one's been particularly painless. Figured it was just my luck, kicking in when it needs tae and as always, a double-edged blade."

But she falls quiet, after that, listening to the accounting of Isiris' last visit to Gwen. Mention of the conwoman's luck in getting away from the nightmare spinner earns the courier a wry twist of her lips, but the end of the tale has her pulling another drink from her cup. Her eyes lid. "Ay, would explain why you were asking me what happened with that tree, too, or why you're telling me this tae begin with. Nae like you're in any shortage of friends, but I ken the person who murdered you, and I recently suffered my own remarkably painless bout of resurrection - a development that you're nae sure changed me or nae, so you want tae ken whether you ought tae be worried in your case."

She folds her arms on the top of the counter. "So what do you think changed in you that makes you so worried about your new lease on life?"

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

The refilled glass is given an appreciative, relieved nod to the bartender.

Taking a sip of her refreshed glass, Gwen thankfully has time to swallow and appreciate her drink before Cassidy drops another bomb. "Wh-wait, three times?!" She leans back in her chair, amazed, then reconsiders, then shakes her head at her internal argument. ".... I guess I kinda died three times, but, I think those first two don't count since I think you gotta actually die, not be close to death, I guess. Though I don't even know if I really died either, this time. My memory's still kinda cloudy about the time he stabbed me through. I think I remember everything else before that, though." She frowns at this, washing down the gloomy fact with her tumbler of amber-colored alcohol.

As Cassidy lays down Gwen's reasons, the courier's lips spread in a wide grin. "Bingo~" she answers, singsong, in spite of the cheerless topic at hand. "You got it. Man, you're so good at this you're scary." But it's comforting, too, judging by the way the strawberry blonde begins to turn more and more to face Cassidy, displaying more of her trust at this delicate time.

...as if earning Gwen's trust was ever a difficult thing, once a person got to know how she ticked.

"I'm not gonna bore you with the details. You met him too, so you probably have a better handle on the sorts of things he'd throw at a person than I do."

'So what do you think changed in you that makes you so worried about your new lease on life?'

'How much of the real you will be left when I am done, I wonder...'

Gwen closes her eyes, Isiris's words ringing in her ears as clearly as if he was right there, whispering into her ear.

Her eyes flick open, fog blue irises refocusing in the dim light of the tavern. "I suppose I'll have to show you." She stands from her seat, looking around to an adjoining room. "Could'ja follow me? Shouldn't take long."

Leading Cassidy to the small room, Gwen shuts the door with a gentle click, and turns to Cassidy, suddenly aware of just what sort of connotation such actions could carry, especially in the context of Cassidy being right there in the smaller space.

Man, Cassidy's going to tease her endlessly over this.

"H'okay. Um. My heart's right here." Gwen gestures to the top half of her chest, looking for all the world like she was revealing some critical secret to the blonde. "So I'll have to, uh, unbutton my shirt, just a little. But not too much! So, uh. Look, this is kinda hard for me. So don't get the wrong idea."

 <Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.

Three times?!

As usual, the blonde doesn't elaborate, and simply smiles blithely at the courier before taking another swallow of her contraband alcohol. She moves on, slender fingers absently tapping out a tune on the worn wooden surface of the counter underneath their arms. "I'm in the profession I'm in for a reason, luv," she tells her. "Violence is easy - even a bairn in a god damn diaper can punch someone's eye out, however accidental. People, nae so much."

And it seems even Cassidy can't anticipate everything, because when Gwen offers to demonstrate her change rather than explain it, a surprised lift of her brows is evident upon the thief's expression. Without so much as a shrug, though she does glance at Argus behind the bar, she extricates herself from the bar stool she has occupied for a couple of hours, boots thumping on the floor as she casually follows the courier to the other room. The door shuts behind the both of them with a quiet click.

Lips part to speak, except Gwen derails her:

I'll have to, uh, unbutton my shirt....

Her brows shoot towards her hairline.

Look, this is kinda hard for me. So don't get the wrong idea.

Silence falls in the small room for a few minutes.

"....well, you better get on with it then, luv," Cassidy remarks, her expression so deadpanned, there's no hope of escaping the comment that follows. "Unless you want me tae get comfortable someplace and stuff silver down your cleavage once you wriggle out of your clothes." And then, unable to help it, a lascivious grin curls up the corners of her mouth. "Or did you want me tae provide you with some background music tae get you warmed up? Nae fair, methinks, putting me in a position like that, but I believe in my tremenduous powers of improvisation. Do you prefer 'Cherry Pie' or 'Pour Some Sugar On Me'?"

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

Gwen really should've seen this coming a mile away. There's no way the awkwardness would have stopped with a deadpan degree for her to continue on. She's unable to even get a proper set of words out, much less any semblance of a retort. Instead, Gwen just squeaks, her face flushing red.

For a moment, though it's very brief, Gwen finds herself mentally comparing which would be worse: being trapped in a room with Isiris, or in a room with a teasing Cassidy.

Mutely, Gwen takes off the scarf around her neck, exposing the lower part of her neck and the scars hidden underneath. Nothing new there- Cassidy saw much more than that during Rosaline's 'wedding'. She then undoes the buttons on her blouse, exposing the upper part of her chest, the mantle of freckles dotting her skin from the spare amount of shoulder she reveals, and-

That wasn't there before at all. What was just a bare patch of scarred skin overlapping her heart is now a bloom of metal the same tone and shine as the textured chrome of her right arm. One could see the clear distinction between flesh and metal, even down to every individual tear that wound would have produced, but the distinction is more visual that what could be noted by touch. There's enough evidence to see that Gwen was stabbed through the back, but the metal that filled in this wound had left little to be healed over.

If it didn't look so unreal, the seamlessness of the mark could have been excused as some sort of strange metallic tattoo.

"I don't think my human heart's really there anymore." Realizing the logic in that remark, Gwen amends it with a quick, "The one I had before."

She presses her lips together. "Not sure what's there. Been scared to find out. I mean, this is Lunar. Havin' any sorta metal arm could be excused as some sorta prosthesis on Filgaia, but here? Forget bein' seen as a Metal Demon; I'd be lucky if Althena's Guard decided what to do t'me instead of whatever townsfolk caught me. N' that'd affect everyone connected t'me too, like Hiro and the gang."

"I mean, I could just not say anythin' and just keep it in until we find a way back to Filgaia, but I have to say it, or the Malevolence'll take care of it all for me." It felt good, letting that out, even if the exposed skin made her feel naked in spite of her not really showing Cassidy much of anything at all.

She closes her eyes. "I'm real scared."

 <Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.

The embarrassed flush on Gwen's face is so evident on her pallor that Cassidy can't help but grin, though she falls silent once the next half of the story unfolds. Through the lacings and folds of her shirt, evergreen eyes shot with veins of gold alight upon threads of metal wicked on skin, like shimmering liquid, curling into the left side of her chest. Under a different angle, it looks like a large piece of shrapnel, flattened over the other woman's flesh. But upon closer inspection...

The woman's face doesn't betray much emotion, but she notes the similarities of what she finds with the ARM grafted on her shoulder. She knows, because she has been asked to help fix it before - to follow Gwen's instructions as to how. She doesn't have an independent aptitude for engineering - that, she leaves to Jude, though she remains silent about her partner's many talents also. For someone who can turn around and shoot the hostage when it's convenient, it's a strange, but ironclad loyalty she holds, when it comes to the redhaired journalist.

And it is not wholly selfless, either. Cassidy Cain is incapable of that.

I don't think my human heart's really there anymore.

She says nothing, for the moment, and simply withdraws a tattered cardboard pack from her pocket, to fish out one of her hand-rolled cigarettes. There is a collection of uneven sticks in that small, worn box, dried tobacco encased in thin parchment, though there is a single filtered menthol among the ones she has crafted herself. She withdraws one, and leaves the menthol alone. Shadows and flame highlight her features as her distinct silver lighter burns the end of her cigarette, cheeks hollowing out in an inhale.

While Gwen is speaking, she lifts a long fingered hand, and presses it right on Gwen's chest, to feel the way her heart pulses underneath muscle and bone, through the metallic webbing encasing whatever scars might have been. If she intended to grope the courier, she does this matter-of-factly, as if she has every right.

After a tick or several, the thief lowers her hand.

"Dinnae feel human," she says. "But if our mutual blue-eyed friend was dancing with you, would nae doubt he went for it. Your ARM's always been one of a kind, but I'm pretty certain that it saved you. Wherever it came from, it's probably programmed tae keep you whole, nae matter what form that takes. I'd keep quiet about it, if I were you. Understandable, that you would worry - but if you want tae be sure, there's only one way tae do it." She draws a vertical line down the metallic tattoo, without touching it.

Cut her open. Surgery.

"Dinnae ken how long it's been part of you. But if you ask me, it is you, and it's natural tae be scared of change. But that's nae always a bad thing, luv. You oughtae be more worried if you've lived as long and dangerously as you have without changing, because I cannae think of anything worse than being stuck in a rut, living through the same things, breathing through the same history all over again. Change means your life is moving forward, and that it's nae stale or stagnant. Change means you're alive, Gwen, and in the way that actually, truly matters."

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

There was another set of reasons that Gwen went to Cassidy: the blonde had the unique position of not only having seen Gwen's ARM, but the state of Gwen's upper body in the various events they've been through.

Namely, Cassidy saw Gwen in a dress. She even had her shoulders exposed! It was very scandalous. And it was definite proof, if any was really needed, that this is a new addition.

If Gwen suspected Cassidy of withholding any information, especially in regards to a certain journalist, she remains silent, her words softly filling the space as she watches Cassidy take out that cigarette and light it, casting shadows in the quiet lighting. "Some good does come out of this, though. I remember some details about that guy." Gwen's lips spread in a firm line. "I think he might be from the same sky city as those people. Which'd make a whole lotta sense, since one of them was trying to track him down. Maybe he's a criminal there too? It explains his, uh, powers."

Her words fall into silence as the blonde presses her hand against Gwen's chest, feeling the silvery chrome of the mark located there, the strawberry blonde's cheeks insteadly turn red, exceeding the pink they gained from Cassidy's earlier teasing. She turns her face, her position shifting slightly, but she doesn't shrink back, extending a certain amount of trust in the woman who had, once, threatened to shoot her. A friend who had also died for her.

And Gwen had nearly made that sacrifice all for naught, dying in the city streets like a malnourished stray animal of one kind or another.

The beat of the heart had an odd consistency, being truly inhuman, not a man-made prosthesis. Or, it would have, if the life that poured into it wasn't human, bearing all a human being's warmth and natural rhythm. The metal has some facsimile of the same give and texture of skin, but not completely, feeling more akin to the surgical scar tissue that used to be there. Different enough to be felt, but similar enough to make it uncanny in feel.

"I fully intend to," Gwen finally agrees, her red cheeks still turned away from Cassidy. "I mean, I might tell a few friends when the time comes, but I ain't intendin' on showin' it off if I can help it, even on Filgaia." She winces at the meaning behind the finger drawn against the tattoo, then calms. "... I think I might have an idea. There's a friend who might be able to help. Just... when I get the nerve to ask."

Change means you're alive, Gwen, and in the way that actually, truly matters.

It was the sort of words Gwen wanted to hear, a soft sigh passing her lips as tears threaten at the corners of her eyes. "Thank you, Cass. I didn't think you'd freak or anythin', since that ain't in your nature, but hearin' words like that from you... makes me feel like it's gonna be okay. He may've changed me, just as he promised, but I think... I need not forget what he might've really been tryin' to kill when he went for my heart. If it was as simple as killin' me, all that stuff he put me through before that would've all been for nothin'."

She reaches up a hand to her chest, pressing it over the blonde's own. "He can only kill people like me n' you. That's all he's got power over, in the end. N' that makes him no different than a common bandit with a gun. Just as you said before, he bleeds too." The grip on Cassidy's hand tightens, then releases her hand. "It's still gonna take some time before I'm over this, of course. But I think I can finally begin to heal from here. And you... well... you definitely seem to have healed pretty well yourself, bein' a fellow phoenix n' all."

 <Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.

I think he might be from the same sky city as those people.

"Ay, is that right?" Cassidy murmurs, a small, sly smile turning up the right side of her mouth. "He tell you his name, yet?"

She doesn't clarify that, either; the trickster in her doesn't make her the easiest person to get answers out of, but if she notices Gwen's blush when she presses her fingers into her chest, she makes no sign of it, sensing the way the new apparatus beats underneath her fingers. Her bashfulness was adorable, and the lopsided smile shifts faintly into a smirk, but thankfully, she doesn't say so - the stars only know how she would put that, and considering her earlier comments, it is guaranteed to be extremely embarrassing. But given the sheen of the metal, she has her own theories as to how this happened, though she doesn't explain, not yet. Despite it happening to the courier, the younger woman doesn't really seem to know just what occurred.

Then again, she did say her memories at the time were hazy - she is familiar with that, too. It isn't easy, for the dead to claw their way back to the living.

And it isn't just her that has experienced that recently, remembering the way Jude's mostly-dead body struggled to fill its lungs with air, dangling suspended at the brink of life and death for seven days.

Resurrection hurts.

"I can ask," she says, before she realizes what she is saying. "I know someone who might have the expertise. Just let me talk tae that person, first."

The last thing she expected from the words she utters are tears, and when she sees them, the blonde is about to take her hand away only for Gwen to prevent it from happening. Slender fingers clutch her own while the light of absolute gratitute shines from the woman's freckled mien, and something curdles in her stomach, light and sour in equal measure. The courier's eyes are blue, but for a moment, one torturous moment, they look as gray as gunmetal.

Even on another planet, the ghosts are persistent.

Her jaw hardens at the hinges and she eases her hand away from Gwen's, shoving it in her pocket and taking a long drag of her cigarette instead. After a few beats of tense silence, she speaks again. Her tone is light - whatever had happened, whatever she saw, it's as if it never did. "Someone oughtae teach you nae tae ascribe more power on the people who try tae step on you than you need tae. He dinnae change you, luv, nae matter what he says. The metal that saved you dinnae look like his sword, it came from your own bloody self. He forced your circumstances, ay, but you're the one who adapted." Smoke curls from her lips as she angles her head towards Gwen. "Ten arrows fall on a terrible battlefield. Nine of them break, except for one. Dinnae mean the war made the arrow unbreakable. The arrow already was, the war just made it easy tae see."

An old proverb, and one that she had hoped to forget since leaving her home. One that resurfaces again because of her present situation and loathing wells up inside of herself for the simple truth it reflects.

He can only kill people like me and you.

"Another reason why I think you ougtae quit assigning more power tae people who dinnae deserve it," Cassidy chuffs with a laugh. "But if you're willing tae accept that, you can speak for your own bloody self. Ay, he's intimidating, that one, but he'll nae be able tae kill the likes of me even if he had an entire army at his disposal." It may be bravado, but there's an easy confidence in the way the conwoman says it; odd enough, for someone who spent much of her career as a thief running away from trouble instead of engaging it. For someone who would rather talk her way out of a dangerous situation instead of fight her way out of it. Cassidy Cain hardly has a reputation for being an able combatant, let alone someone of such martial prowess that she can go toe to toe with one of Solaris' most dangerous nightmare spinners.

She's simply good at escaping.

That's all.

With that, she pivots to start heading out the door.

"Anyway, it's getting late, and I've got an early morning tomorrow." She opens the door, inclining her head over her shoulder at Gwen. "But you oughtae stick around Vane for a couple of days. A few familiar faces ended up here."

And with that, she steps out.