Part 1: A Confession (Of Sorts)

Locke slipped in through the back door, clad simply in a black long-sleeved shirt, sweatpants, and leather boots. He was muttering something angrily to himself. Before anyone could say anything, he hopped over the bar, grabbed another rocks glass, and poured himself yet another whiskey with plenty of ice. He was a bit more careful in his return, choosing to walk to the other side. He sat on a stool, tentatively tasting his whiskey and grumbling all the while.

The Gypsy played blissfully as she noticed a certain Ice Elf she hadn't seen in a long while come into the scene. Smirking impishly, Chase's expression faded slightly upon seeing the aggressively negative mannerisms Locke exhibited. Swiftly, smoothly, she scooted herself over his way, pushing with booted heels from stool to stool until her feet would rest upon the stool beside the one he occupied. Leaning downwards to him slightly, she smiled softly and paused her song. "Salutations."

He was enthusiastic in his tone of voice, perhaps a bit too enthusiastic for it not to be faked somewhat. The smile on his face was a bit tighter than normal for Chase. ?How are you faring this evening, Chase??

The Gypsy rolled her eyes. She looked down at her guitar, nurturingly pulling the strap off and setting the thing aside upon the bartop. "Faring as farers often fare, Lockey-boy. Which is, in case you didn't know, decently." She winked, propping elbow upon her thighs to slump forward, looking into the distance as she continued speaking to him. "But enough about me. What of you, sir?"

A sip of whiskey, before Locke finally looked Chase in the eyes. In a cheery tone that was completely at odds with what he was saying. ?You would think that I would be doing well, after all the fantastic stuff that happened to me earlier this week, but I'm feeling pretty miserable now Chase. Sorry, don't mean to bring you down in the gutter with me.?

Chase chuckled, looking his way tenderly. Her sloppily arranged ponytail caused wisps of multi-colored bangs to frame her face. Ever-changing eyes were of a tender teal hinted with faint royal blues. "A good captain always goes down with the ship. Why should crews be any different with gutters? Plus, don't bother say sorry. I've been slightly in the dumps as well." She nodded, shrugging slightly. "But again, enough of me. What's got your winter winds blowing tough, Ice Elf?"

He turned back to his cold drink, plucking an ice cube out with a gloved hand and placing it in his mouth. He crunched on it delicately, before glancing back up with warm cobalt eyes. ?This and that. I hate to mix pleasure-? he said, grabbing his glass and shaking the cubes in it ?-with business, but would you mind terribly if we stepped back into my office again?? Gesturing towards an empty booth, then glancing at the rest of the people at the bar. ?This conversation's for your ears only, savvy??

The Gypsy grinned softly. If it was possible to execute such things, she pulled it off. Pulling at her guitar, she acrobatically leapt down from the bartop, holding her guitar firmly by the neck. "Not at all, Lockey-boy. Whatever tickles your freezing fancy." She nodded, awaiting to be led by the elf to his booth of choice.

Her last words brought a chuckle to Locke's lips as he stood up from his stool, drink in hand. He quickly headed for the booth, setting his glass down. Once the two were there, he spoke to the Gypsy. ?So I've got a fairly large load on my mind, and I am hoping that you will be able to lessen it for me. Lend me some help, lend me some support. Are you feeling game for that??

She propped her beloved guitar against the booth's table, seating herself across from him and scooting to sit in the center of the cushioned row. She shot an intrigued smirk of Gypsy mystery <The Hawker>'s way before looking back to Locke. It would've been nifty to chat chit with a fellow music man, but there were priorities to be kept. "Course I would be, Locke. I feel helpless and useless enough as it is. So if I can prove useful in some manner or another, I'm eager to be of use."

He leaned back a bit in his seat, before suddenly leaning forward to take the glass and sip some more of his drink. He set the tumbler back down again, before folding his arms across the table, all business-like. ?Tell you the truth, Chase, I feel bloody useless as well. Between 'ol gold eyes and all the other gits howling for my claret, and all the terrible things you've gone through-? He paused for a second, adjusting his collar. Was he...uncomfortable with his next words? ?And 'Lanta...?

Chase's evolving eyes of raging colors took a melancholy tone, shifting to magentas and maroons in an instant. Yet in her altruistic manner, she smiled weakly in remembrance of those horrors of moments. Then he said her name. Her tender's name. Well, more like his tender's name, but she wouldn't compete. The Gypsy sighed silently, rolling her shoulders slightly as her pained smile of inner sorrow traced her luscious lips. "Yes...I feel you completely. Things, I fear, will only get worse..."

Locke nodded to her words, before deciding to take a hefty swig of alcohol. ?See...that's what I was petrified of. Am petrified of. Not just being powerless to do anything, but the feeling that anything I do won't matter. Bloody useless blue skin...? He rolled up the sleeve of his long-sleeved black t-shirt and pinched the flesh on his forearm. ?It doesn't matter how I feel. This...is always in the way.?

Fingers crept to wrap around one of her myriads of necklaces. Metal gently clinked against metal. Locke had been absent all those times in the recent past. So had Quel. It would be devastatingly difficult for them to play the dreadful game of catch-up, so she spared him the downplayed matters that were involving her own affairs. She then looked at his arm. Her Musical heart bled for the Ice Elf. "Locke..." She murmured softly, unable to configure anything viable to console her friend.

Another large drink of whiskey, finishing off the glass. Three drinks in, the alcohol was faintly detectable on his breath. He tilted the tumbler back a little more, letting an ice cube settle in his mouth again. He chewed delicately, as he posed the same question to Chase as he had to 'Lanta. <vs> ?How old do you think I am?? His facial features seemed to suggest a boyish, impish youth, but that was dulled by the pain shining clearly in dark blue irises. They almost looked haunted.

Locke shook his head a bit, as if clearing the cobwebs out. His memory was usually good but... ?How much did I tell you about the rings and the spell and all that malarkey? It seems I have a bad habit of telling my mates important things while I'm ploughed.?

Chase chuckled, rolling her eyes. "You elves...I swear." She teased. "We spoke of it a great deal. Advised you, recommended stuff, the whole sha-bang." She crossed her arms, smirking slightly his way.

He folded his arms behind his head, as he leaned back in his seat, all casual-like. ?And I greatly appreciate all the information you have given me. It has been a tremendous help. I believe I'm ready for the first step. However, there's a second step, and although I am not certain of the details, I have a sneaking suspicion what it requires, considering what I remember of what my mum told me about the first spell that was used on me.? Suddenly, he sat straight-up, air rushing out of his lungs with an nervous sigh. ?I'm making more than one ring for a reason, savvy??

Chase's smile broadened. She nodded softly. "Oh, I savvy, sir." She chuckled softly. "If a certain Gentle Elf hadn't been tied up with certain...obligations...I would have consulted him about it already." Her once smug expression faded to an embarrassed show of mild sorrow. "He hasn't been around much lately." She shrugged, sighing heavily. She hated how it got to her.

He shook his head and waved her off, smiling. ?No worries, mate. I wouldn't have been terribly good at what I did previously if I didn't maintain certain...resources. I've called in pretty much every favor I've ever gotten, and even some favors I probably didn't deserve. Cost me a pretty pence, but I got about as much as I can get without actually heading back to that dreaded...Universitas Magus, or whatever the bloody hell they're calling it these days. The thing is, though, that when these rings are made, somebody else must wear them, to the best of my knowledge. 'Sides me, of course.? His voice was soft and solemn. ?If you are willing and able, I would like you to be one of those people.?

Chase's face of slight upsettedness melted away, looking to him in slight disbelief. For some odd reason, she had Atalanta in mind for wielding the other ring. Though, as the Gypsy gave more thought to it, she saw how it made sense. Yet, she couldn't contain the look of surprise. "As you wish, Locke. I must say, you are shedding me with honor after honor tonight. You're going to make my head big if this keeps up." She chuckled comfortably, pushing so she sat against the wall and her tattered jean legs rested along the rest of the cushioned row of chair at her side of the booth.

Locke shot a large, dimpled grin for Chase, when she agreed to help him. He spoke very quietly, and his voice almost seemed to waver a bit at his words. ?I-I really wish I could hug you right now.? He regained his composure quickly, though. ?But thank you, mate. I am in your debt, and hopefully I can find some way to repay you someday.? He stretched his arms a bit, yawning. ?And I do believe that my cold, soft bed is calling me. I'm knackered, mate.?

Chase shrugged, chuckling. "It's the thought that counts, Locke." She nodded, smiling brightly. She shook her head dismissively to his thanks, rolling her eyes. "No worries. And it's not you, but I, who should be thank you. Thanks to you, I'm going to be worshipped as a Goddess by my folks. Best mates with the Locke D'Vestavio himself? Boy, I can't wait to see them now. Plus..." She looked to him more directly, her eyes softening to show the tender sincerity in her expression. "...it isn't often when some washed out ex-rockstar of a Gypsy girl gets the chance to do something right for someone who deserves it more than she could ever state. You're the one that deserves the thanks." She scooted out of the booth as she spoke, pulling her guitar by the neck and looking to the doors. "I should be heading out too. My awesome new campsite must miss me terribly by now." She chuckled.

He met her gaze with his own cobalt irises, the very definition of smiling eyes. He stood up as well, straightening out the sleeves on his shirt and brushing off his pants. ?I'll let you know when I hear what's what.? Then, he spoke, with kindness in his melodic voice. ?Tenna' ento lye omenta.* Have a perfectly pleasant remainder of your evening, Chase. Be careful walking back to your tent. I shall endeavor to do the same.? Locke glanced up at the staircases, mischievous grin on his face.

Chase smirked, chuckling. "You watch yourself. I hear staircases are tricky. Especially with enough liquor." She winked, waving to him as she headed out the door. That language. Him and Quel shared that. It made her smile, remembering how Quel would mutter such things when in heightened bouts of emotional joy. She blushed, hugging the door to vent out the hug she wanted to deliver to Locke earlier. She also missed Quel. And off the Gypo went into the night. Off to sleep in her tent soundly.


*"Until next we meet."

((Edited and adapted from Live RP))

There was no rival to the red Atalanta turned at that very moment. Hunter eyes cut a line towards the chin near her cheek, voice rendered useless. Her right hand moved with its own agenda, fingertips curling around the collar of Locke's shirt, though she reminded them not to touch the icy skin beneath. She didn't need to melt him by being over-zealous. The tug kept him close, even though she didn't have a reply.

He seemed a bit surprised at the tug at the collar of his black button-up, not to mention the tightness of her grip on the fabric. He couldn't help but say something cheeky, although the cleverness of the words didn't seep into his tone, nor did he make an effort to pull away. ?You're going to wrinkle the fabric. I take it you're rendered suitably speechless? Or did you not catch my drift?? Pupils flicked up towards her eyes, seeming to dilate a touch.

Chase peered over his shoulder to see Locke and Atalanta engaged pretty deep in their conversation. She couldn't find it in herself to verbalize it, instead gently separating from Quel for a moment. Grabbing him by the hand, she tugged him along to the back door that led to the Alley. She shot a final glance at Locke and Atalanta. Her two best friends. She was lucky to have them. Yet, she felt unworthy of it all. Perhaps it just was the alcohol amplifying her petty emotional slump at the moment. With a wave to them both, she led her Elf to the back door of the Inn.

"Rack off." Atalanta grumbled to him in jest, resting her temple against Locke's shoulder. She made sure not to add enough pressure as to make him uncomfortable with heat transfer, the careful way with which she had to handle him becoming second-nature. She watched his eyes, smiling at his attention.

He shivered a bit as she rested her head against his shoulder, eyes warmly falling upon her. ?Fair enough. But you haven't really answered my questions.? His tone was playfully teasing, but with a touch of insistence, like he needed some sort of validation or verification.

"I don't remember what it was..." She admitted, honestly at a loss for a question. All she could remember were sing-song words and their meanings. Her heart bounced to the melody of them as they repeated in her head, the other side beaten into submission by contentment. She refused to move unless he told her to.

It was a little bit uncomfortable, leaning across the table, but the discomfort was welcomed. He finally circled a little closer to the point he wanted to make, murmuring quietly in her ear. ?Do you know what I mean when I say good night to you...like that??

"I've an idea..." She confessed, fingers splayed out over his heart, feeling for it above the shirt. There was a twitch at her neck, feeling something familiar behind her, but she ignored it. Green eyes held true to the blue ones, seeking something more. She liked the hint of vulnerability.

His voice was melodic, light, and full of the earnestness that was no doubt burning in his warm cobalt eyes. He didn't provide a explanation right away, but trusted that his gestures would get the point across. He pointed first at her, then at his own heart once the final word was spoken, resting his hand over it once he was finished. He could feel the frigid organ hammering in his chest. ? Lle sane cormamin.?

She sat up straight, surge bringing her almost nose to nose with him; the honesty in her eyes was complete, even if the rest of her wasn't. Her breath got shaky, rattling in a way that the cambion-charm could never fake as she got near, but she forced herself to a halt when she felt a cold breeze against her cheek, all the precautions flooding back. Immediately, she looked defeated.

Part 3: The Foreign Language of Love

Chase then deemed it worthy to bring up what she wanted to with Locke. "Well, upon further thought, there is something you could help me with." She smiled broadly, nodding. "See, I was wondering....if you could teach me some basic...Elf speak. Or...Elven. However you nickname the language." She smiled broadly, fluttering her own long lashes his way. "Renna? Ha. She wanted me...all deathly kissy like. She would've raped and killed me if things went the way they were when I was with her alone..."

Locke turned back to Chase when she addressed him. ?I'm sorry to hear that you had to deal with that. But the scuttlebutt is that she's out of sight, out of mind now.? He then moved on to the topic of his language. ?Well, it's all sorts of things to all sorts of blokes. Elvish, elven. Though elf speak is a new one to my ears. What did you want to know??

Chase nodded. "Yes. The thing practically did. Then, I bailed thanks to my wild cards, here." She wiggled her overly-adorned ringed fingers, smirking. "They always save me. My life savers, y'know. Pretty too. Great perk, if you ask me...." She nodded again, firmly. "The thing gives me the creeps. She knows it too." She looked to Locke, smirking. "Oh, the basics. Figured it would surprise if I knew basics. Uh, like, how would you say Quel's name properly? Like, in your language n' stuff?" She smirked gently, tilting her head to one side.

He waved and smiled at Summer as she wandered off, before glancing back to Chase. ?Any certain phrases you would like to learn? Oh. Quel's name? Remind me what his full name was again, mate??

"Ummm..." She furrowed her brows, chuckling. "I could...write it out for you. Couldn't pronounce it for the life of me, sir." With that, she pulled out a ball point pen that held her ponytail in place, causing her hair to plummet down her back in its voluptuous colors. Beaded, decorated charms filled certain strands of her hair, jingling slightly with the movement. Writing it on her arm, she pulled up her oversized sleeve. She then held it out to Locke, smiling. "How do you say that right?" On her arm were written the words ?Quel'ngia Xelthalas.?

He read the writing, nodding slowly to himself, before he finally spoke out loud. His voice was light, lyrical, and just a little bit sing-songy. ?Quel'ngia Xelthalas. Can't tell you what precisely it means. But quel means good. Anything else, mate??

Chase pouted. "But, uh, I was hoping you could help me say it right. So...to review it's...Quel 'en...gee..ah...Ex...ell..tha...lass?" She guessed, giggling to herself since she sounded funny.

It was harder for Locke to say the words slower, since it meant breaking up the natural rhythm between syllables. Still, he did his best to do so. ?Quel...en...gee...ah...Zel...tha...las. You got it mostly right though. Just a matter of speeding it up and singing it out. The "X" is like in xylophone.?

Chase brightened, smiling. "Ohhh. Right." She giggled, then cleared her voice. "Well, singing I can do. I dunno if I've told you, but I'm a minstrel." She rolled her eyes at him, nodding. "Okay so...Quel...en...gee...ah...Zel...tha...las?" She repeated, murmuring it to herself to speed it up in her mouth. It was foreign to her tongue, but she giggled anyways. "Looks like I have yet another thing to rehearse. Oh, the joy." She sighed. "Okay, and the famous three words. How do you say those?"

He arched his ice-white brow, at that. He had a sneaking suspicion what those three words were, but he would let her say them first. ?And what might those three words be, hmm? The ice elf rested his elbows on the bartop and then his chin on his hands, looking at her with mischief in his cobalt eyes.

The Gypsy's brows furrowed. "Lockey-boy...Y'knowwww. The words. I haven't even said them to him yet in any language...yet. So...Yeah...Those ones." She looked to the counter, tracing circles upon the surface of the bartop. Pinkness arrived to her cheeks, shrugging while she blushed.

Instead of acquiescing to her request, he played dumb again. ?There are lots of three word phrases that are famous. Red Dragon Inn. What's that smell?? He started to struggle a bit, his voice a touch hesitant. ?Uh, food is good?

Chase grumbled slightly, resting her chin upon the counter itself, still tracing her finger along the surface in small circles. "None of those, Frosty. Wait, Red Dragon Inn isn't a phrase...it's a title. The name of a joint." She corrected him, murmuring it like a small child being shy to an adult. Her cheeks were of cherry colors, her eyes matching with hints of fluorescent pink. "C'mooonnnn..Y'know...."

He seemed to pout a bit, jutting out his lower lip like a child about to cry. Finally, he breathed a mock exasperated sigh. ?Oh all right, I know. If you fancy somebody very much, and you happen to be of the elvish persuasion-? He straightened up, gesturing to his pointy ears as if the emphasis were needed. ?-you would say to them: Amin mela lle.?

Chase's smile brightened. "So thaaaat's how you say 'I love you'? Interesting. Sounds so pretty." She mused, not even noticing she had said the phrase she was avoiding to say moments before. "Gotcha. Far out." She then grabbed for her ball point pen and jotted that down, writing it phonetically in her own way so it would be pronounceable. "Neatoooo. How do you say 'Thank you'?"

?'Thank you' is diola lle,? Locke said. ?And 'you're welcome' is lle creoso. ?

Chase wrote those down upon her arm, running out of blank skin on her arm due to the permanent ink set there. Sighing, she decided to write it on her palm. "Groovy. So...Dee..oh..ya...ye....is 'thank you.' Then ...ye...kree...oh....so...is 'you're welcome?'" She tested, smirking.

?Dee...oh...la... yey,? he replied, gently correcting her. ?Ye...kree...oh...so. Not too shabby, mate.?

Placing the ball point pen in her mouth out of bad habit, she then looked down to what was on her hand. She then tried again. "Kay so...so, it's....Dee...oh...la....yey. Then...Ye...kree...oh...so...?" She giggled, it sounding so strange. She then murmured them over and over under her breath. "Then 'I love you' is...wait...uhmm.." She looked to her arm, reading it off. "Amin mela lle?

His attention span drifted for a moment, but soon returned to Chase. ?Sounds aces to me, mate. I think you'll be wooing elves of all shapes and sorts in no time. They positively swoon to hear their language spoken to them.?

Chase smirked, giggled. "Oh, really?" She smiled brightly, looking down at her hand. "No wonder he speaks elvish to me sometimes. Poor thing tries so hard to impress me. I think he got the lousy end of the deal. O'course, that's just me." She giggled again. "Well, Frosty, I know you love giving me lessons...but I need to head out to practice for the big show of mine coming up. Y'know, the one at Eclipse? Yep. I'll sneak practice with these in too somehow, you bet." She then scampered to the exit, waving to everybody. "Night everyone."

Locke waved to Chase, using another elvish phrase in return. ?Namaarie, Chase.?

Atalanta was using that exact exit as an entrance! She bumped into the Gypsy with a giggle and wobble, reaching out and grabbing the shoulder of her friend--whom she hadn't quite recognized yet. "Sorry!" She chirped with another little laugh, pulling her coat tighter. "It's fah-reeeeezing out'ere!"

While running out, Chase pulled the pen from her mouth to jot that one down, guessing it meant goodbye. "Uh...diola lle, Lockey-boy." Upon bumping into Lanta, she failed to notice it was her upon collision and muttered an apology. "Yes, wish me luck." She then rushed out, failing to notice it was her best pal.

((Edited and Adapted from Live RP))

Locke winked and shot a thumbs-up to 'Lanta. ?Bing-o, mate. I was teaching Chase how to say Quel's name proper in elvish, 'I love you,' 'Thank you,' and 'You're welcome.' He didn't seem to notice, or pretended not to notice at any rate, what 'Lanta had said to him. He hid most of his facial expression with his glass, sipping, but his eyes were definitely smiling.

"Bet she picked it up quick. She seems good with languages. All her traveling, and whatnot..." Atalanta was back to petting her slippers, tickling the bitty joey's head, sewn on beneath the mother's. Her finger slipping into the tiny pocket just beneath, barely big enough to hold a folded bit of paper.

He glanced down at her feet, noticing her removing something from the pocket, but he said nothing immediately. Warm blue eyes traced a path back up towards her face, before he replied. ?Chase's aces with languages, near as I can tell.? He finally plopped down on a stool beside her. <vs> ?I can teach you some phrases, if you like??

As soon as she removed it, she pushed it right back in, without even checking it. She knew what it said well enough, after all. When he sat, she brought her foot to rest on his knees, the boomer looking up at him as she grinned away. She was in a fine mood. "We'll see if my tongue can work them out--took my preference into account, I see?" she said, in regards to his black outfit.

He reached a gloved hand down to touch the slipper, smiling at her. He tugged at the collar of his dress shirt before responding. ?Sort of, mate. I was wearing a white shirt with a black tie and these slacks-? he ruffled a pant leg- ?earlier. But some bloody dragon ripped my shirt. Was sleeping on my shoulder, pushing up zeds all friendly-like, and didn't want to leave. Was rather cute and precious, to be honest with you.? He paused, to grab and sip some more whiskey. ?Was there anything you wanted me to teach you first??

"Aww. You big softie..." She giggled, tapping his stomach with the kangaroo's plastic, black nose. "Teach me some manners, perhaps? Those are always important to have--or so my Aul Wan always taught me." She reviewed his outfit again, nodding to the changes he'd made as she smiled, keeping her leg extended.

He giggled as well, as the button nose pressed against his belly. ?Well, diola lle is 'thank you' and lle creoso is 'you're welcome.' 'I'm sorry' is amin hiraetha.?

"Dey-ohl-ahh..." She tested it out, trying to twist the lilt of her accent to match the melody he used. The Australian twist tended to pull the vowels out here and there, though. She tried again, using her prayer tongue to work over the words. The Gaelic-training helped. "Diol-ah ye-ay. Yeeeey..." 'Lanta flushed, looking up to him with a wrinkle of her nose.

He repeated it, slowing it down to a tempo that made the words feel slightly uncomfortable to him. ?Dee-ohl-ahh yey...Yey cree-oh-so. A-min hir-aye-tha. Sai quel, 'Lanta. Not too shabby, mate.?

"Yeeey cree-ooo-sooo.." She smirked, starting to almost literally sing the words. "Aaah-min hir-eeeeye-tha. Ah-min hirayeeetha." She repeated the last, too, looking to the ceiling as she felt it. "I'm going to need a lot of practice..." She admitted as the green eyes hopped down to meet the blue ones. "But I can learn more, bit by bit. Next time, I'll write it down so I can try it out when you aren't around. How'dya like tending?"

Locke met her gaze, pupils widening a touch when it happened. ?Chase wrote everything down phonetically. There's a couple of ways you can write it actually. You can sort of Common-ize it, and I suppose you can write it with this other fancy-pants sort of alphabet they have. We didn't have that where I was from. The written language was...slightly different.? He paused, to reach down and bat playfully at that fuzzy slipper. ?You should teach me some of...your language? Tending was aces! Other than the dragon and some bird getting drunk off of water somehow.?

"Right. I'll bring a notebook, next time. I'll have you write it down, then I can put it as you'd have me say it." She giggled, wriggling her foot to dodge his swats. "Off Adam's Ale? Well..." She threw this one in just for him: "I don't Adam 'n Eve it! I'm glad your night went well, though, and no one gave you real trouble." She polished off her Badsider, pushing the bottle away with her fingertips as she watched him. "Should I give you the Gaelic for the things you taught me? I bet you'll be good at saying them. I remember when you did that spot of acting for me...where you said all those things in several accents. Bleeding deadly, mate." Her smile was beyond affectionate as her boomer's nose nuzzled his elbow. She was getting used to him, and this delightful little arrangement of theirs. She was especially enjoying having his company.

He beamed at her memory. ?I remember! Disguising one's voice is crucial to success in the line of work I used to be in. Perhaps we could learn some Gaelic some other time, though maybe not tonight. I'm feeling a bit knackered, after all that to-ing and fro-ing I did.? He giggled to himself. Her slang was fun to speak, after all. ?I believe it might be time to push up some zeds, mot.? A wink at that, before he moved to stand from his stool.

Her foot slid from his lap, joining its partner-in-kangaroohood. She watched him move with a cocked head, her eyes betraying her glee at his comfortable use of 'her' words. "Uh huh. Probably a good idea..." She smiled, glancing away from him, to the empty room as her fingers stroked the cross. She seemed to be contemplating.

Locke caught the contemplative look, and arched a brow at her. ?A pence for your thoughts, mate?? He stood, already on his way towards the stairs and up to his room, assuming she was hot on his heels. This was hopefully a conversation that fell under the "walk-and-talk" variety.

"H-uh?" 'Lanta asked as she spun on the stool, seemingly amazed when he was no longer by her side. "Oh, I was just...wondering if I should stay up. Study some..." She smiled a little as she landed on the balls of her feet. "I left the books upstairs, anyhow. Wait, muirn?n ..." She caught up with him easily, enough, though.

As she approached and fell by his side, he leaned down a bit and tilted his head, resting it on her shoulder. It was an awkward gesture, to be sure, and the spikiness of his hair and chill that radiated from him was palpable. He snuck a glance up at her from his perch, looking oddly vulnerable and yet content. ?I like the way you say that, lirimaer.? He repeated her term of endearment, the words just a touch clumsy on his tongue. ?Muirn?n.? He leaned back then, as they scaled the staircase and entered the hallway upstairs.

She started a little at the feeling of his head on her shoulder, an icy spike tapping her neck. Of course, all that was ignored when her pupils shifted to watch him sidelong. In the face of cold, she somehow almost melted. And when he spoke, her heart (which had learned to beat as an afterthought) gave a most curious thump-bump in her chest. It caught her off-guard, to be sure, and nervous that he'd heard it, she blushed. "Ta'...I mean...Dioo-laa yey. G'night!" Away she dashed, cheeks on fire and her tongue amazed it'd fumbled out those words. She disappeared into her room--her turn for a hasty retreat.

((Edited and Adapted from Live RP))