[ P ] Ghost Myself

Lorelei Ambrosia

She was lingering now, clinging to the highlands still-clinging to a life that disspeared with the smoke that carried her brother's being to the skies above them that day on the cliffs of Aberdeen. She could recount the day's after lighting the pyres, until she couldn't. Somewhere along the way, between Bastien's generosity and her own clarity slowly depreciating, she let the days bleed into weeks and weeks into months; somehow it still seemed like there would never be enough time to fully grasp the idea that the other half responsible for her continuing to exist was simply gone. Thats why she was still here, her paws still walking the same terrain her brother and her called home. She was clinging to any crumb of feeling she could pull from here. She left the oddly serene sanctuary that was the home of Bastien, a few words left behind to find him when he returned from wherever it was that his journeys had led him to.
Inverness was her last stop before she avoided Aberdeen and dove into the Fae Forest on her journey south. Since the end of the war, more wolves filtered into the city, the school being a more popular reason for the influx of bodies. She had zero intentions of being held up by tome readers or all too eager students looking to learn anything they could outside of the school walls. Instead, she filtered through the paths of commerce and town taverns; her goal was to seek the status of the borders, whether or not the imperials were still hunting down any who dared step close to the imaginary piss lines they so graciously made themselves and claimed their own- what better source to seek than the drunken or tired lips of Jacobite soldiers filtering in and out the establishments.
After hours of stalking the men and women she was able to distinguish as Jacob's warriors, she was able to piece together a decent image of what she was walking into. something e-or rather, somewhere- has snagged the attention of both sides. This meant she could easily slip past and slither into the mainlands and Noone would bat an eye at her. During her time flitting through the crowds, she too found herself nearly bored to death and ended up tasting more of the same amber liquid that the soldiers had than she realized. Though not stumbling over her feet, she was surely buzzed, and the oh so foreign touch of booze was only making her hate being surrounded by bodies, and that was her sign to leave. That is, until there was a faint, nearly refreshing, scent of mist and moss that lingered in the doorway she was walking through. And then, she saw the beautifully damaged heathen that she'd met under the moon at the tops of Tir Na Nog. He was already well ahead of her, but being tailed by a shouting behemoth that could almost match his own features- from behind, atleast. The man she knew would keep walking, however the man shouting at him would not- he lingered but seemed furious, or frustrated? Nonetheless, he was the short breath of amusement she didn't realize she was indulging in. She would encroach on the space between them, the booze that bubbled in her blood was now the puppet master of a loosened togue and lips. "An do sgàin e thu? Goid? O ! An robh e a' fuck an aon leannan riut fhèin?" (Did he scam you? Steal? Oh! Did he fuck the same lover as you?) Amusement was laced in her tone, chords strung along calmly as she watched the scarred man disappear in the crowd of wolves around them. The man in question was a stranger to her even still, likely a dangerous one at that but she knew all of this when they first met.

she talkin

table by scarlet

"I'm tired of this!" he snarled, but to know avail. His father simply told him it was too damn bad and walked off. He wanted to quit running drugs and have a life of his own but he was trapped under his old man's thumb. He glared after his disappearing figure with hatred boiling in his amber eyes, eyes so much like Lachlan's, until a voice pulled him out of it. "An do sgàin e thu? Goid? O ! An robh e a' fuck an aon leannan riut fhèin?"

At first he didn't register what she'd said but then slowly the accusations seeped into his mind as the Gaelic rolled off her tone. His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head at her curiously, wondering just how much she had heard of his conversation with his father. Hopefully, not much. He shouldn't have struck it up in public, that was for sure, but he'd been at the end of his rope and unable to hold it in any longer. Declan turned toward the woman and shook his head. "Chan e, chan eil ann an m’ athair ach dick," (No, my father is just a dick) he replied. It wasn't often he spoke his native tongue as most wolves in Rionnach or Saora spoke the common language.

He shifted his large paws across the ground, scraping the stone pathway with black claws. The sound caused his ears to twitch. "Carson, dè a tha e dhut?" (Why, what's it to you?) he asked curiously.

He didn't know this woman or her story, or even her 'connection' with Lachlan. She was just some nameless girl who'd come up to him on the street. He looked her over, finding her beauty a little too obvious. He knew he should probably go, get back to work, but he honestly didn't want to and wanted to delay returning running packages for as long as possible. Though, while he'd avoided getting into a physical fight with Lachlan, probably due to their public location, he knew he might be walking into one later if he wasn't careful. He huffed quietly, finding himself in quite the predicament.

Lorelei Ambrosia

Emeralds clung to the man's face as he turned to face her, his words fell on ears that were already losing interest- but that interest would find spark just as fast as she let it fade when he mentioned the word "father". Her lips curled just slightly at the corner while a brow lifted with just enough motion to be barely noticed. She could see the semblance- physically, that is. The same burning gaze that could easily melt her if she were it, no matter how little or much the ember hues blazed. His height was a noteable difference, a behemoth to behold. However, his father was not afraid of making personal space less, well, personal. The aura's were different, where his father was dark, dangerous, and ominous- he was undoubtedly.. not. The threat that lingered around the other man was constant, the danger she was easily drawn to in him was not something that she could distinguish in the offspring.

Her gaze would sweep downward, from head to paw, lingering on the paws that swiped over the rocks beneath them-rather large paws. Once more a brow wouls quirk upright just so. While watching, it clicked in her mind that he had little issue with the tongue she favored over others. Most were either too lost to the language or prefered the more common. This allowed her peace of mind, knowing there weren't too many that could pick apart what was being discussed.

He asked of her interest in the topic of his distress in the moment, she wouldnt spoil her own secret just yet, though it seemed the man before her likely wouldn't have the amusing reaction she was looking for if she told him of the brief.. connection his father and her shared. "Uill, chan eil thu dìreach air do.. iomlaid fhaclan a dhèanamh prìobhaideach. Agus bha na taighean-òsta a 'fàs sean le gort." ("Well, you haven't exactly made your.. exchange of words private. And the taverns were growing stale with boredom".) A smirk became more prominent on her lips, her tassle flicked along her side. She hesitated to speak once more, watching him to see if he would just shove the words of a stranger off and leave, or indulge. "Dè tha thu sgìth dheth?" ("What are you tired of?") She prodded shamelessly, her interest peaked and subtly evident on her features.

she talkin

table by scarlet

Declan

"Chan eil thu ceàrr." (You're not wrong.) He stated in response to her words -- it wasn't like their conversation had been a quiet one with him yelling towards the end of it. It was probably good Lachlan had walked away before they broke out into a physical altercation but he had half a mind to expect that when they crossed paths again, if only for Lachlan to have a chance to show him who was 'boss'. The young man cringed internally, wishing that for once he and his father could just get along and not worry about business or any of that bullshit. But it was impossible with a man like Lachlan, who detested his own children.

It was then that she pulled him from his thoughts and asked him what it was he was tired of. He rolled his lips thoughtfully before letting his gaze sink to hers. "Tha mi sgìth de bhith a’ cur mo bheatha air an loidhne airson gnìomhachas an teaghlaich. Tha mi sgìth de bhith a’ cur suas leis an bullshit aige. Tha mi sgìth de bhith a’ suidhe an seo a’ cleasachd mar nach b’ urrainn dhomh a asal a bhreabadh nam biodh mi dha-rìribh ag iarraidh..." (I'm tired of putting my life on the line for the family business. I'm tired of putting up with his bullshit. I'm tired of sitting here acting like I couldn't kick his ass if I really wanted to...)

He was tired of a lot of shit and it kinda all just blew out of him in the moment. He felt his cheeks heat and he shook his head, embarrassed for having even said anything.

"Chan eil e gu diofar ge-tà, co-dhiù aon latha cha bhi e." (It doesn't matter though, at least one day it won't.) He said a little ominously. One day his father would die and then he and Killian would be in charge. His brother would release him from these bonds or let him have more freedoms. Either way, things would change for him.