Encounterlogs
Declans Odd Encounter Sr Liesl 250402
Declan, not expecting any peculiar company in his normally solitary abode, discovers a mysterious and enchanting sea siren, Casey, in his bed. The siren, presenting an ethereal beauty and supernatural charm, claims they are married, spinning a tale of forgotten vows and a love Declan can't recall. Despite skepticism, Declan is drawn into her web of enchantment, struggling between suspicion and the allure of her supernatural presence. As they engage in a dance of cautious curiosity and entrancing dialogue, Casey's intentions remain shrouded in mystery, while Declan warily navigates the unexpected encounter, questioning her true nature and their alleged past together.
The narrative progresses as Declan, under the spell of Casey's siren influence, carries her towards the promise of the beach, fulfilling a request that seems to tie back to her origins. Amidst this journey, he experiences a deep drain on his vitality, suggesting that Casey's presence exacts a significant toll on those she ensnares. In a poignant conclusion by the ocean's edge, Casey reveals her true name, Emily, and shares a fleeting moment of genuine connection with Declan before vanishing, leaving him with a sense of loss for a love he barely understands yet mourns deeply. This encounter leaves Declan with a lingering amnesia, clouding the specifics of their interaction but imprinting an indelible mark of longing and melancholy on his heart, as he makes his way home, haunted by the echo of a connection lost to the sea's embrace.
(Declan's odd encounter(SRLiesl):SRLiesl)
[Sat Mar 29 2025]
In A Blue Bedroom
This bedroom space has enough floor space to house an adult couple comfortably, and two or three sets of bunks somewhat cozily. The walls are painted slate blue and rathe sparse on decoration, but the finish looks new. A tall plywood closet occupies much of the northern wall.
It is morning, about 22F(-5C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(Your target is abducted by a sea creature that's somehow crossed over into our world, it is up to them to survive for long enough that their allies can come help.
)
How does Declan expect to wake up today? In his bedroom, with his innocuous computer desk and desktop? That's probably where he is right now. Whether he's in bed or not, he might find a little something extra there today, hiding under the sheets in an inconspicuous ball, form shrouded in what is definitely one of his blankets, shifting in the ever present motion that whatever's underneath is alive, and breathing. Dozing off oh-so-peacefully.
Declan isn't in bed right before noon. He isn't a man of many virtues, but staying in bed overly long (solo) isn't among his vices either. How commendable. He's just come back from one of the clothing stores to browse on his PC and thinking about whether he'll reheat something for lunch or go out to eat. With only regular senses, it took him some time to realize he's not alone here. He silences his machine and quiets his breathing, then walks over to the bed to pull off the sheets like a stage magician. Or angry parent.
Nestled beneath the folds of a borrowed blanket, the sea siren slumbers, her presence quite strange, and reminiscent of an spray. A soft, subtle scent as the blanket is pulled off of their form. Silken strands of shimmering, seafoam-kissed hair spill over the pillow, the faintest hint of salt and brine clinging to her ethereal form. She otherwise would look completely human, but seems too picture perfect in appearance, nestled up and curled up in a ball. An alien beauty. She's fast asleep and even making a soft wispy noise that sounds like she is snoring. A cute snore, meant to charm the hearts and minds of an unseen audience. Even Declan perhaps. Beneath the gentle rise and fall of the covers, she winks an eye open and stares up at Declan, blinking blearily. "Five more minutes," she politely requests of him, but is already languidly rising from her disturbed slumber, arms held wide out for a hug as she leans closer to Declan, all smiles. She wears a light blue sun dress, and nothing else. Shoes would be a cardinal sin, considering she's in bed.
She might've been slight and supernatural indeed; Declan seems astute enough to notice a human-sized figure, but then again perhaps she creatively arranged herself amongst the pillows. Either way, his first reaction is not immediate alarm, which is a privilege the sea siren's face card buys, although he's still feeling for his gun to check that it's at his side regardless, for what little it'd for him. He breathes in deep, then sighs. "Not the woman I was askin' for here," he'd say, looming over her with a squint. "Who are you?" Not 'how did you get in my bed', that one's easy to guess.
Little siren missus plays it calm and collected, throwing out all the charm her supernatural being can muster. Which to the uninitiated and less supernaturally inclined, might seem quite a bit. She flounces long, silken raven locks behind her bared shoulders, then shakes her head for extra effect, a hint of light shimmering over the straight, bouncy strands that fall down her slim frame effortlessly. "Casey," she purrs, looking up at him with sparkling lashes, pink and gold glitter adorning her features. She smiles disarmingly and holds her hands up, sitting up expectantly for that hug she's offering to Declan. "I guess you don't remember. Last night," she wagers, crooning softly into her ears. Her voice sounds so close even if they're an arm's length apart. "We married. Don't you remember. I am yours. You are... mine." With that insinuation, a weight bears down on Declan's psyche, pulling, tugging, twisting. Trying to manipulate it like clay. "Remember," she might have said as a query, but it's more like a command with its insistence.
"Hmm. Did I miss my own wedding?" Declan asks Casey, biting his lip. More man than machine, he's not immune to temptation. The Templar is tempted by this-and-that all the damn time - plus, the wise play right now seems to be to go along with it. So eventually he bends a little, smoothing down the front of Casey's dress and adjusting a strap, then linking hands behind her to pull her into that hug. "What else did I promise you?" Anything for a smell of that raven hair, and maybe to judge then how far away the bedroom door is.
"You had a lot to drink," Casey comes and weaves an innocent little like for Declan, all to draw him into her web. She grins widely when Declan takes the bait, patient as can be while he helps her appear somewhat more decent. One of those thin straps holding her dress up was sliding down a narrow shoulder, teasing the moderate bust she was sporting -- definitely a C Cup in size at a glance, but on her small frame, looks bigger than it really is. "Everyone was there, you know," the black widow appraises, and in that same vein, images flash in Declan's mind. A large gathering of blurred faces he can't quite make out, but all seem vaguely familiar all the same. Most prominent is Casey's prominent features, smiling mirthful. Green eyes couldn't be happier. She's soft, of course, and the briny scent is subtle, but there. It might even come off as a peculiar, eccentric perfume, what with the underlying sweetness. Pulled into the hug, she feels incredibly weightless, like he could lift her with no trouble whatsoever. Delicate, and needing someone to nurture and protect that's injected straight in the mind. "You promised to take care of me. Silly. Keep me happy and sated." Again, she thus urges, "Remember."
Declan tried to make her modest, but accomplished the opposite effect when he 'accidentally' lets go of the strap to let it tumble down a slender arm of hers. There is a twitch of a frown then. Last night was hazy for likely-hypnotic reasons, but .. okay. No. Maybe he -did-, in fact, have too much to drink. His eyes meet hers, flick to her mouth, back up. "What were our vows?" he nudges verbally, "I said we'd never forget, but then we did that. I wonder if I coould even get it up last night." As they'd do on a honeymoon.
"Oops," Casey melodically giggles as she nearly experiences a wardrobe malfunction, rolling her shoulder up just in time before she let the girls out and flash Declan with what she's rocking, likely to his disappointment, yet he does get to admire the fine cleavage the sweetheart neckline of her dress offers. She even juts her chest out a bit, happy to use feminine wiles to keep Declan enthralled and ensnared to her devious whims. "Our vows?" she questions, frowning, a crack in her story breaking over the picture perfect painting she was making. "...I." She lets his vow clue her in on what she should tell him, a smile quickly returning. "I said. From this day forward, I vow you will never face the world alone. That whatever challenges or adventures will be together. You vowed to make me happy. Filling our days with love and to keep me appeased." It started sweet enough, but tracks towards being something far more selfish. "Get what up?" she further wonders, showing a naive side to her. Or just playing coy.
"Mr Wiggles." Declan can barely say that with a straight face, and evidently some parts of him don't actually have a nickname. He can play the lover still and nod along and pretend those were the vows while he's tried to scoop Casey up to put her in his lap as he sits on the bed. Her wardrobe might not have malfunctioned then, but there follows a sharp pull on her neckline that is even more precarious. Somehow, he does manage to keep eye contact, or at least his-eyes-to-her-nose contact. It wouldn't directly stop her but does make it slightly annoying. "I didn't know I could be so romantic. But yeah, I mean. And I had my good friend witness it. Do you remember what he said at his speech? It was short."
"Mhm. Well, actually..." Casey amends after a bit, pouting and gazing into Declan's eyes with a little pout, increasing endearing levels above thresholds that most mortal men might have trouble contending with. Melting even the coldest of hearts, with a little help with some psychic persuasion in the mind that convinces one everything is right, a-okay, and there is no war in Ba Sing Se. She slings an arm around Declan's neck, holding her flush to form, providing immaculate physical contact while keeping things relatively PG. Though with Declan's insistence, he gets quite the eyeful of eye candy when he gives a bit of a tug and twist at the neckline of her dress. He sees it all, and it's probably very nice. The scouts will have to delve deeper with Declan to get that information of the holy ta ta's he's witnessed. "I can't recall. I was so focused on you. You make my heart feel like no one ever could before," she lies, sighing breathily, inhaling near Declan's chin. She's a high caliber super, this one, siphoning what she desires from Declan without too much effort. Just being in his presence is somewhat enough to keep her placated. "I feel so alive right now. I... really needed this," she admits, sounding a touch guilty.
"Mmmmm." Declan may be thinking hard or hardly thinking. He definitely ate an eyeful and might yet receive a fistful (the painful kind) but she's keeping up this pretense even though it's becoming increasingly clear to him the grade of supernatural that's somehow appeared in his bed and cannot afford a Antlers room or something. But, to be fair, his house may be humdrum but the mattress and beddings are top tier. The man has his priorities. After his hand leaves the gown when their torsos press together (and a hint of more contact), he scratches his back with his hand, turning a little to look at his PC screen and see if any classified notifs have popped up. "I'm glad I met you," he lies, "I'm thinking first order of business is to .. uh. We haven't had a proper honeymoon yet. You wanted a hiking trip right? Tired of the beach?"
A transient being to the core, she is. Drifting from one place to the next, finding a free meal and somewhere to crash uninvited. Casey seems to pick her targets quite well though, considering how receptive Declan appears before her whims. She curls a finger underneath his chin, keeping his gaze relatively more honest, trying to make him fixate on her facial features than the girls she sports down below, sitting proud on her chest. There's a small dot of a beauty mark on the lefthand corner of her mouth that he might be able to find something to occupy his staring with, plus he'd get to enjoy the way her lips move when she speaks. "I-" Then she twitches, the motion interrupting her train of thought. "Hey. Focus on me," she instructs, giving Declan a stern glare, an unimpressed twitch of her lips coupling the expression. "Hiking trip is on the table. Yes. Though. I..." she tries to angle his eyes so they meet with hers. "Look into my eyes?"
"It's hard to look into your eyes when your lips look like -that-. See why I feel for you." The shallow. Declan gives more excuses between boobies and mouths to avoid direct eye contact, but the smile he dons is positively romantical. Or at least lustful. He does a good impression of fondness regardless, and buys a little more time with the swift motion of hand, then a brief nuzzle at her cheek, trying to stand up with her then forced to cling to him as a bride might. There are opportunities for eye contact still because he's not that careful, but at least away from further temptation.
"It's easy to look into your eyes when you can get so lost in them," Casey counters, a twitch of a smile broaching over her features. For the briefest of moments, her thin, gently arching eyebrows lift, making her smile seem rather sad, the exchange between predator and prey turning rather idyllic. A hint of a bygone opportunity that she will never experience in exchange for the humanity she shed. Yet in this moment, Declan managed to unearth just a shred of what humanity left lingering in her heart. The deep yearning for something more beyond the facade she lives under is torn up when she twitches spasomodically, a flush over her cheeks. Perhaps she never quite met someone who was so recklessly bold as Declan was, dividing his attention between her eyes and the other assets she has on display. It vexes her, no doubt. "Careful," she bids him, a touch annoyed, frowning once they're up and standing. "Where are we going?" she wonders, taking a bit of a backseat, curious to Declan's ideas. She keeps angling her face in a way that he'd have to meet her eyes or look away during the interim, trying to catch his mind once more.
And some part of Declan, despite having literally met this woman only now, already imagines the life he could live with her if he renounced his playboy ways and willingly became a thrall or ... temporary life force bloodbag. Such was her effect on him. He plops her onto her feet and takes her hand, moving by her side after exiting the bedroom to kiss over the backs of her knuckles. "Figured we could use a little walk to Main in the cold. First one as a happy couple. What do you wanna eat?" Maybe or maybe not does she have any kind of shoes. "It might be breezy for you." He lets go of her hand to pat on her hip.
Casey tilts her head here and there, trying to gain a perfect angle to align the stars that are their eyes, but at this point, Declan seems to be onto her. The pull on his mind gradually becomes weaker, a far more frayed version of itself, and thus only her unnatural appearance holds any bearing upon him. It is a not so insignificant, but otherwise ultra-fine influence on Declan's bearing. Sapping his energy, so to speak, bit by bit, the more he lingers and entertains her fancies. She glances down the gentle swell of her hip, clicking her tongue once she parses his eyes with her own, trying to get a bead on him, indomitably insistent. "Mm. I don't wanna go there. Take me to the beach, won't you? Where my dreams reside. Our dreams," she parlays some, giving him a bit of a nudge on his arm, draping herself over his front so that he'd have to be the one to hold her up and even drag her along, keeping one foot pressed over his own.
Declan drums fingers over her rump and slides the palm down, then turns away (with more than a little reluctance) to toss on his shoes. He comes to a kneel afterwards and gestures, just barely glancing over his shoulder with his invitation. A somewhat wan smile. He doesn't quite want to let go, but he won't live very long around this one. "I know you love the beach. You lost your sandals again .. just ride my back. I'll carry you there. You can .. you can soak your toes." And it's a convenient out for this one before he's either ensnared again or has to resort to the panic button which may not be a guarantee against her ilk.
Maintaining a small distance from Declan after he strays from her to don some footwear, Casey stares at him. In the meantime, she gathers her thoughts, biting on her lower lip and exhaling before Declan meandered off in that direction. Now without the man to lean upon, she has to take it upon herself to support her bearing, and when she moves, it is soundless and with an alien grace, each footstep making her look like she's skating on the floor rather than walking. A casual alien grace to her in her approach. "Willow Cove. It is not so far from here." Her voice is soothing and enchanting, held aloft with words that sound so encouraging, pleased in spite of some liberties taken. Waiting as patiently as a statue, once Declan straightns, she slips right behind him and does a bit of a trust jump, hopping right onto his back, her form having just the bare amount of weight upon it that it draws upon the instinctive gesture to reach back and hook hands right under her bare legs, underneath her knees.
"...catch me," A whisper bids Declan.
"You've made me very happy today. Just your luck," she murmurs, sliding her chin over his right shoulder, lips pressing along the side of his neck, just so he can feel the smile she wears.
Declan definitely makes her look underdressed for the weather. No matter. It's not relevant soon. He grasps onto her legs as her arms wind around his neck, expecting that she's not about to try and choke him out. He may not remember everything, but his aura doesn't seem to be red, either. So he's at least confident he's not trudging off to his doom. "I'm glad. I think .. I tended to disappoint women a lot before." He casts off on what is likely a one-way journey for the siren, and while Willow Cove is not far, his steps are not filled with haste. "I don't plan to do that any more," he prevaricates. But a more genuine question. "Do you sometimes feel like you're getting long in the tooth?"
"Really?" Casey sounds as if she's marveling at the fact that Declan is one to disappoint the ladies of Haven. She of course, is placating in nature. But for her own benefit, she is all but encouraging and seems quite taken with him, though it's probably not too far off to think it was all an act. Where she once felt like she weighed no more than a bundle of feathers, she now feels weightier, more a burden on Declan's back. How a woman of her stature ought to weigh, but it's strange how much more substantial she feels on him now. Something as simple as putting his foot in front of the other to start their journey to the cove feels more taxing than what it should be. It's the toll of keeping Casey's company, no doubt. "All the time. Ever since I stopped being a little girl," she reminisces, keeping an eye over Declan's front, then lifts her left leg, angling her toes forward, studying the white polish over each toenail that's chipped with age. Another layer to be added soon, if she were to keep up her appearances. "I'm quite happy, however," she claims wholeheartedly. "Good thing we're already married. I'm told it's so much harder to break into the courting scene these days with the advent of technology." She hums in soft laughter, amusing herself with idle thoughts.
"It's hard to truly settle with someone when better options are only some button presses away. Bad trap I often fall - ahem - fell into. How long has it been since you've been a little girl?" Declan hems some more. Is he this weak? He's not supernatural, but he shouldn't be getting this tired, piggybacking someone of Casey's size and mass. It's likely the life force, and the possible oceanic element giving her more literal physicality for him to handle. He's still confident they'll make it. It's almost in sight. He asks, "I - kinda wanna know. I know you said stuff about past is past," typical, "But, promise. You can tell me."
grows eerily quiet, the easygoing smile without a care in the world fading as she is coaxed into reminiscing further and further down the spiral of her life. She was far, far less happier so long ago, and her expression darkens to show she's not quite a fan hitting the rewind button like so. The cove is within reach, drawing closer and closer with each step made by Declan. The closer they get, the more ponderous his footsteps might be. So close, and yet so far. Casey at least tides him over with some of her history. "Maybe.... eighty years from now," she hazards, throwing a ballpark guess into the wind. She doesn't want to be too exact. For that considerable number in human years is something of a pock on her record. "Maybe a little less," she reckons for her own comfort. The coast begins to sing out its cadence, with the waves lapping over the sands some paces away. "Nearly there," she encourages, her smile returning. Home is so close to the heart now, and Declan might even feel the same way now, wrought from her own contagious influence and emotions.
Casey grows eerily quiet, the easygoing smile without a care in the world fading as she is coaxed into reminiscing further and further down the spiral of her life. She was far, far less happier so long ago, and her expression darkens to show she's not quite a fan hitting the rewind button like so. The cove is within reach, drawing closer and closer with each step made by Declan. The closer they get, the more ponderous his footsteps might be. So close, and yet so far. Casey at least tides him over with some of her history. "Maybe.... eighty years from now," she hazards, throwing a ballpark guess into the wind. She doesn't want to be too exact. For that considerable number in human years is something of a pock on her record. "Maybe a little less," she reckons for her own comfort. The coast begins to sing out its cadence, with the waves lapping over the sands some paces away. "Nearly there," she encourages, her smile returning. Home is so close to the heart now, and Declan might even feel the same way now, wrought from her own contagious influence and emotions.
Declan momentarily stumbles upon a rock on the beach. His legs are getting shakier, confidence eroded along with his cellular reserves and the metaphysical. "Eighty years.. that's a long time," he empathizes, having not even half that to his name even if many in town would still consider him some old man. "We're almost home." He almost sounds like he misses Neptune's kingdom himself when he stops and stares at the ocean from Willow Cove, a dozen feet from the breaking waves. He once again kneels to permit her to disembark. "Can I ask you a thing, love? Is - Is Casey your real name?" There will likely not be another chance.
"..." Casey exhales, rapture filling her lungs once home is well within sights. The last few steps are the easiest, as if the weight on his mind was reigned in. Long, tidy fingers run along the shape of Declan's shoulder, smoothing the jacket to his profile, offering silent praise for a job well done. There's a blur -- a blip in Declan's sight and mind alike, and when his senses return, he'll find he's staring down at 'Casey' in all of her charming five foot six stature. Not at all imposing, especially when she smiles so brightly with straight, white teeth that belong in a jingly commercial. A winner's smile, no question about it. Her finger's hooked upon his chin, angling his sights to hers. "We're home now," she gladly announces, whilst also appraising Declan in what he missed since he last felt her on his back, forlorn now with the absence of her weight, making him feel emptier. Not of his own accord, but of her own doing, pulling the strings in her mind. "Emily," she tells him, sounding too close, but also too far. The name resounds in his head, and not for his ears. Then more residual, "Emmie. That's what they called me when I was a little girl."
"Emily, huh? That's a pretty name." Declan brushes the dust off his knee and looks mildly discomfited, broken out of his tragically romantic and dangerously Orderly motions, when he realizes he didn't quite see her move to capture his chin like that. He doesn't fight it, though. It's futile and yet welcome. He even comes to return it, and slumps with a sigh. "Kiss me before you go?"
"One for the road," Casey allows, breathing in the sea salt air deeply, fondly, the effort making her moderate bust rise with the occasion. Then with a steady finger tickling Declan's chin with a strength that belies her appearance, angles his face in a picture perfect slant before she seals the deal by stepping on the tips of her toes, the waters lapping at her soles from behind.
In that very moment, nothing else exists. Just the sensation between Emily and Declan. Not Casey, Emily. On any random afternoon. The magic of the universe rears itself in a small, heartfelt moment of romance. Everything and nothing comes together, their fingers lacing together. Her lips purse into Declan's, and she weaves a tell for him alone. Emily becomes a lost flame he'll remember fleetingly. Someone that got away, not of his own fault this time. The circumstances, as far as he'll remember were entirely out of his hands, and he'll only recall that she passed away, never to return. Amnesia sets in, and when his eyes open, he'll find himself staring into the ocean without the dark-haired miss in sight, head clouded with confusion, but a spark lit in his heart.
The scouts might know better, and perhaps Declan might, too, if he'd read the reports later. Today, he gazes out to the sea with only the sinking feeling that he's lost something precious and dear but doesn't know what. Eventually, he starts the trudge back home.
The narrative progresses as Declan, under the spell of Casey's siren influence, carries her towards the promise of the beach, fulfilling a request that seems to tie back to her origins. Amidst this journey, he experiences a deep drain on his vitality, suggesting that Casey's presence exacts a significant toll on those she ensnares. In a poignant conclusion by the ocean's edge, Casey reveals her true name, Emily, and shares a fleeting moment of genuine connection with Declan before vanishing, leaving him with a sense of loss for a love he barely understands yet mourns deeply. This encounter leaves Declan with a lingering amnesia, clouding the specifics of their interaction but imprinting an indelible mark of longing and melancholy on his heart, as he makes his way home, haunted by the echo of a connection lost to the sea's embrace.
(Declan's odd encounter(SRLiesl):SRLiesl)
[Sat Mar 29 2025]
In A Blue Bedroom
This bedroom space has enough floor space to house an adult couple comfortably, and two or three sets of bunks somewhat cozily. The walls are painted slate blue and rathe sparse on decoration, but the finish looks new. A tall plywood closet occupies much of the northern wall.
It is morning, about 22F(-5C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(Your target is abducted by a sea creature that's somehow crossed over into our world, it is up to them to survive for long enough that their allies can come help.
)
How does Declan expect to wake up today? In his bedroom, with his innocuous computer desk and desktop? That's probably where he is right now. Whether he's in bed or not, he might find a little something extra there today, hiding under the sheets in an inconspicuous ball, form shrouded in what is definitely one of his blankets, shifting in the ever present motion that whatever's underneath is alive, and breathing. Dozing off oh-so-peacefully.
Declan isn't in bed right before noon. He isn't a man of many virtues, but staying in bed overly long (solo) isn't among his vices either. How commendable. He's just come back from one of the clothing stores to browse on his PC and thinking about whether he'll reheat something for lunch or go out to eat. With only regular senses, it took him some time to realize he's not alone here. He silences his machine and quiets his breathing, then walks over to the bed to pull off the sheets like a stage magician. Or angry parent.
Nestled beneath the folds of a borrowed blanket, the sea siren slumbers, her presence quite strange, and reminiscent of an spray. A soft, subtle scent as the blanket is pulled off of their form. Silken strands of shimmering, seafoam-kissed hair spill over the pillow, the faintest hint of salt and brine clinging to her ethereal form. She otherwise would look completely human, but seems too picture perfect in appearance, nestled up and curled up in a ball. An alien beauty. She's fast asleep and even making a soft wispy noise that sounds like she is snoring. A cute snore, meant to charm the hearts and minds of an unseen audience. Even Declan perhaps. Beneath the gentle rise and fall of the covers, she winks an eye open and stares up at Declan, blinking blearily. "Five more minutes," she politely requests of him, but is already languidly rising from her disturbed slumber, arms held wide out for a hug as she leans closer to Declan, all smiles. She wears a light blue sun dress, and nothing else. Shoes would be a cardinal sin, considering she's in bed.
She might've been slight and supernatural indeed; Declan seems astute enough to notice a human-sized figure, but then again perhaps she creatively arranged herself amongst the pillows. Either way, his first reaction is not immediate alarm, which is a privilege the sea siren's face card buys, although he's still feeling for his gun to check that it's at his side regardless, for what little it'd for him. He breathes in deep, then sighs. "Not the woman I was askin' for here," he'd say, looming over her with a squint. "Who are you?" Not 'how did you get in my bed', that one's easy to guess.
Little siren missus plays it calm and collected, throwing out all the charm her supernatural being can muster. Which to the uninitiated and less supernaturally inclined, might seem quite a bit. She flounces long, silken raven locks behind her bared shoulders, then shakes her head for extra effect, a hint of light shimmering over the straight, bouncy strands that fall down her slim frame effortlessly. "Casey," she purrs, looking up at him with sparkling lashes, pink and gold glitter adorning her features. She smiles disarmingly and holds her hands up, sitting up expectantly for that hug she's offering to Declan. "I guess you don't remember. Last night," she wagers, crooning softly into her ears. Her voice sounds so close even if they're an arm's length apart. "We married. Don't you remember. I am yours. You are... mine." With that insinuation, a weight bears down on Declan's psyche, pulling, tugging, twisting. Trying to manipulate it like clay. "Remember," she might have said as a query, but it's more like a command with its insistence.
"Hmm. Did I miss my own wedding?" Declan asks Casey, biting his lip. More man than machine, he's not immune to temptation. The Templar is tempted by this-and-that all the damn time - plus, the wise play right now seems to be to go along with it. So eventually he bends a little, smoothing down the front of Casey's dress and adjusting a strap, then linking hands behind her to pull her into that hug. "What else did I promise you?" Anything for a smell of that raven hair, and maybe to judge then how far away the bedroom door is.
"You had a lot to drink," Casey comes and weaves an innocent little like for Declan, all to draw him into her web. She grins widely when Declan takes the bait, patient as can be while he helps her appear somewhat more decent. One of those thin straps holding her dress up was sliding down a narrow shoulder, teasing the moderate bust she was sporting -- definitely a C Cup in size at a glance, but on her small frame, looks bigger than it really is. "Everyone was there, you know," the black widow appraises, and in that same vein, images flash in Declan's mind. A large gathering of blurred faces he can't quite make out, but all seem vaguely familiar all the same. Most prominent is Casey's prominent features, smiling mirthful. Green eyes couldn't be happier. She's soft, of course, and the briny scent is subtle, but there. It might even come off as a peculiar, eccentric perfume, what with the underlying sweetness. Pulled into the hug, she feels incredibly weightless, like he could lift her with no trouble whatsoever. Delicate, and needing someone to nurture and protect that's injected straight in the mind. "You promised to take care of me. Silly. Keep me happy and sated." Again, she thus urges, "Remember."
Declan tried to make her modest, but accomplished the opposite effect when he 'accidentally' lets go of the strap to let it tumble down a slender arm of hers. There is a twitch of a frown then. Last night was hazy for likely-hypnotic reasons, but .. okay. No. Maybe he -did-, in fact, have too much to drink. His eyes meet hers, flick to her mouth, back up. "What were our vows?" he nudges verbally, "I said we'd never forget, but then we did that. I wonder if I coould even get it up last night." As they'd do on a honeymoon.
"Oops," Casey melodically giggles as she nearly experiences a wardrobe malfunction, rolling her shoulder up just in time before she let the girls out and flash Declan with what she's rocking, likely to his disappointment, yet he does get to admire the fine cleavage the sweetheart neckline of her dress offers. She even juts her chest out a bit, happy to use feminine wiles to keep Declan enthralled and ensnared to her devious whims. "Our vows?" she questions, frowning, a crack in her story breaking over the picture perfect painting she was making. "...I." She lets his vow clue her in on what she should tell him, a smile quickly returning. "I said. From this day forward, I vow you will never face the world alone. That whatever challenges or adventures will be together. You vowed to make me happy. Filling our days with love and to keep me appeased." It started sweet enough, but tracks towards being something far more selfish. "Get what up?" she further wonders, showing a naive side to her. Or just playing coy.
"Mr Wiggles." Declan can barely say that with a straight face, and evidently some parts of him don't actually have a nickname. He can play the lover still and nod along and pretend those were the vows while he's tried to scoop Casey up to put her in his lap as he sits on the bed. Her wardrobe might not have malfunctioned then, but there follows a sharp pull on her neckline that is even more precarious. Somehow, he does manage to keep eye contact, or at least his-eyes-to-her-nose contact. It wouldn't directly stop her but does make it slightly annoying. "I didn't know I could be so romantic. But yeah, I mean. And I had my good friend witness it. Do you remember what he said at his speech? It was short."
"Mhm. Well, actually..." Casey amends after a bit, pouting and gazing into Declan's eyes with a little pout, increasing endearing levels above thresholds that most mortal men might have trouble contending with. Melting even the coldest of hearts, with a little help with some psychic persuasion in the mind that convinces one everything is right, a-okay, and there is no war in Ba Sing Se. She slings an arm around Declan's neck, holding her flush to form, providing immaculate physical contact while keeping things relatively PG. Though with Declan's insistence, he gets quite the eyeful of eye candy when he gives a bit of a tug and twist at the neckline of her dress. He sees it all, and it's probably very nice. The scouts will have to delve deeper with Declan to get that information of the holy ta ta's he's witnessed. "I can't recall. I was so focused on you. You make my heart feel like no one ever could before," she lies, sighing breathily, inhaling near Declan's chin. She's a high caliber super, this one, siphoning what she desires from Declan without too much effort. Just being in his presence is somewhat enough to keep her placated. "I feel so alive right now. I... really needed this," she admits, sounding a touch guilty.
"Mmmmm." Declan may be thinking hard or hardly thinking. He definitely ate an eyeful and might yet receive a fistful (the painful kind) but she's keeping up this pretense even though it's becoming increasingly clear to him the grade of supernatural that's somehow appeared in his bed and cannot afford a Antlers room or something. But, to be fair, his house may be humdrum but the mattress and beddings are top tier. The man has his priorities. After his hand leaves the gown when their torsos press together (and a hint of more contact), he scratches his back with his hand, turning a little to look at his PC screen and see if any classified notifs have popped up. "I'm glad I met you," he lies, "I'm thinking first order of business is to .. uh. We haven't had a proper honeymoon yet. You wanted a hiking trip right? Tired of the beach?"
A transient being to the core, she is. Drifting from one place to the next, finding a free meal and somewhere to crash uninvited. Casey seems to pick her targets quite well though, considering how receptive Declan appears before her whims. She curls a finger underneath his chin, keeping his gaze relatively more honest, trying to make him fixate on her facial features than the girls she sports down below, sitting proud on her chest. There's a small dot of a beauty mark on the lefthand corner of her mouth that he might be able to find something to occupy his staring with, plus he'd get to enjoy the way her lips move when she speaks. "I-" Then she twitches, the motion interrupting her train of thought. "Hey. Focus on me," she instructs, giving Declan a stern glare, an unimpressed twitch of her lips coupling the expression. "Hiking trip is on the table. Yes. Though. I..." she tries to angle his eyes so they meet with hers. "Look into my eyes?"
"It's hard to look into your eyes when your lips look like -that-. See why I feel for you." The shallow. Declan gives more excuses between boobies and mouths to avoid direct eye contact, but the smile he dons is positively romantical. Or at least lustful. He does a good impression of fondness regardless, and buys a little more time with the swift motion of hand, then a brief nuzzle at her cheek, trying to stand up with her then forced to cling to him as a bride might. There are opportunities for eye contact still because he's not that careful, but at least away from further temptation.
"It's easy to look into your eyes when you can get so lost in them," Casey counters, a twitch of a smile broaching over her features. For the briefest of moments, her thin, gently arching eyebrows lift, making her smile seem rather sad, the exchange between predator and prey turning rather idyllic. A hint of a bygone opportunity that she will never experience in exchange for the humanity she shed. Yet in this moment, Declan managed to unearth just a shred of what humanity left lingering in her heart. The deep yearning for something more beyond the facade she lives under is torn up when she twitches spasomodically, a flush over her cheeks. Perhaps she never quite met someone who was so recklessly bold as Declan was, dividing his attention between her eyes and the other assets she has on display. It vexes her, no doubt. "Careful," she bids him, a touch annoyed, frowning once they're up and standing. "Where are we going?" she wonders, taking a bit of a backseat, curious to Declan's ideas. She keeps angling her face in a way that he'd have to meet her eyes or look away during the interim, trying to catch his mind once more.
And some part of Declan, despite having literally met this woman only now, already imagines the life he could live with her if he renounced his playboy ways and willingly became a thrall or ... temporary life force bloodbag. Such was her effect on him. He plops her onto her feet and takes her hand, moving by her side after exiting the bedroom to kiss over the backs of her knuckles. "Figured we could use a little walk to Main in the cold. First one as a happy couple. What do you wanna eat?" Maybe or maybe not does she have any kind of shoes. "It might be breezy for you." He lets go of her hand to pat on her hip.
Casey tilts her head here and there, trying to gain a perfect angle to align the stars that are their eyes, but at this point, Declan seems to be onto her. The pull on his mind gradually becomes weaker, a far more frayed version of itself, and thus only her unnatural appearance holds any bearing upon him. It is a not so insignificant, but otherwise ultra-fine influence on Declan's bearing. Sapping his energy, so to speak, bit by bit, the more he lingers and entertains her fancies. She glances down the gentle swell of her hip, clicking her tongue once she parses his eyes with her own, trying to get a bead on him, indomitably insistent. "Mm. I don't wanna go there. Take me to the beach, won't you? Where my dreams reside. Our dreams," she parlays some, giving him a bit of a nudge on his arm, draping herself over his front so that he'd have to be the one to hold her up and even drag her along, keeping one foot pressed over his own.
Declan drums fingers over her rump and slides the palm down, then turns away (with more than a little reluctance) to toss on his shoes. He comes to a kneel afterwards and gestures, just barely glancing over his shoulder with his invitation. A somewhat wan smile. He doesn't quite want to let go, but he won't live very long around this one. "I know you love the beach. You lost your sandals again .. just ride my back. I'll carry you there. You can .. you can soak your toes." And it's a convenient out for this one before he's either ensnared again or has to resort to the panic button which may not be a guarantee against her ilk.
Maintaining a small distance from Declan after he strays from her to don some footwear, Casey stares at him. In the meantime, she gathers her thoughts, biting on her lower lip and exhaling before Declan meandered off in that direction. Now without the man to lean upon, she has to take it upon herself to support her bearing, and when she moves, it is soundless and with an alien grace, each footstep making her look like she's skating on the floor rather than walking. A casual alien grace to her in her approach. "Willow Cove. It is not so far from here." Her voice is soothing and enchanting, held aloft with words that sound so encouraging, pleased in spite of some liberties taken. Waiting as patiently as a statue, once Declan straightns, she slips right behind him and does a bit of a trust jump, hopping right onto his back, her form having just the bare amount of weight upon it that it draws upon the instinctive gesture to reach back and hook hands right under her bare legs, underneath her knees.
"...catch me," A whisper bids Declan.
"You've made me very happy today. Just your luck," she murmurs, sliding her chin over his right shoulder, lips pressing along the side of his neck, just so he can feel the smile she wears.
Declan definitely makes her look underdressed for the weather. No matter. It's not relevant soon. He grasps onto her legs as her arms wind around his neck, expecting that she's not about to try and choke him out. He may not remember everything, but his aura doesn't seem to be red, either. So he's at least confident he's not trudging off to his doom. "I'm glad. I think .. I tended to disappoint women a lot before." He casts off on what is likely a one-way journey for the siren, and while Willow Cove is not far, his steps are not filled with haste. "I don't plan to do that any more," he prevaricates. But a more genuine question. "Do you sometimes feel like you're getting long in the tooth?"
"Really?" Casey sounds as if she's marveling at the fact that Declan is one to disappoint the ladies of Haven. She of course, is placating in nature. But for her own benefit, she is all but encouraging and seems quite taken with him, though it's probably not too far off to think it was all an act. Where she once felt like she weighed no more than a bundle of feathers, she now feels weightier, more a burden on Declan's back. How a woman of her stature ought to weigh, but it's strange how much more substantial she feels on him now. Something as simple as putting his foot in front of the other to start their journey to the cove feels more taxing than what it should be. It's the toll of keeping Casey's company, no doubt. "All the time. Ever since I stopped being a little girl," she reminisces, keeping an eye over Declan's front, then lifts her left leg, angling her toes forward, studying the white polish over each toenail that's chipped with age. Another layer to be added soon, if she were to keep up her appearances. "I'm quite happy, however," she claims wholeheartedly. "Good thing we're already married. I'm told it's so much harder to break into the courting scene these days with the advent of technology." She hums in soft laughter, amusing herself with idle thoughts.
"It's hard to truly settle with someone when better options are only some button presses away. Bad trap I often fall - ahem - fell into. How long has it been since you've been a little girl?" Declan hems some more. Is he this weak? He's not supernatural, but he shouldn't be getting this tired, piggybacking someone of Casey's size and mass. It's likely the life force, and the possible oceanic element giving her more literal physicality for him to handle. He's still confident they'll make it. It's almost in sight. He asks, "I - kinda wanna know. I know you said stuff about past is past," typical, "But, promise. You can tell me."
grows eerily quiet, the easygoing smile without a care in the world fading as she is coaxed into reminiscing further and further down the spiral of her life. She was far, far less happier so long ago, and her expression darkens to show she's not quite a fan hitting the rewind button like so. The cove is within reach, drawing closer and closer with each step made by Declan. The closer they get, the more ponderous his footsteps might be. So close, and yet so far. Casey at least tides him over with some of her history. "Maybe.... eighty years from now," she hazards, throwing a ballpark guess into the wind. She doesn't want to be too exact. For that considerable number in human years is something of a pock on her record. "Maybe a little less," she reckons for her own comfort. The coast begins to sing out its cadence, with the waves lapping over the sands some paces away. "Nearly there," she encourages, her smile returning. Home is so close to the heart now, and Declan might even feel the same way now, wrought from her own contagious influence and emotions.
Casey grows eerily quiet, the easygoing smile without a care in the world fading as she is coaxed into reminiscing further and further down the spiral of her life. She was far, far less happier so long ago, and her expression darkens to show she's not quite a fan hitting the rewind button like so. The cove is within reach, drawing closer and closer with each step made by Declan. The closer they get, the more ponderous his footsteps might be. So close, and yet so far. Casey at least tides him over with some of her history. "Maybe.... eighty years from now," she hazards, throwing a ballpark guess into the wind. She doesn't want to be too exact. For that considerable number in human years is something of a pock on her record. "Maybe a little less," she reckons for her own comfort. The coast begins to sing out its cadence, with the waves lapping over the sands some paces away. "Nearly there," she encourages, her smile returning. Home is so close to the heart now, and Declan might even feel the same way now, wrought from her own contagious influence and emotions.
Declan momentarily stumbles upon a rock on the beach. His legs are getting shakier, confidence eroded along with his cellular reserves and the metaphysical. "Eighty years.. that's a long time," he empathizes, having not even half that to his name even if many in town would still consider him some old man. "We're almost home." He almost sounds like he misses Neptune's kingdom himself when he stops and stares at the ocean from Willow Cove, a dozen feet from the breaking waves. He once again kneels to permit her to disembark. "Can I ask you a thing, love? Is - Is Casey your real name?" There will likely not be another chance.
"..." Casey exhales, rapture filling her lungs once home is well within sights. The last few steps are the easiest, as if the weight on his mind was reigned in. Long, tidy fingers run along the shape of Declan's shoulder, smoothing the jacket to his profile, offering silent praise for a job well done. There's a blur -- a blip in Declan's sight and mind alike, and when his senses return, he'll find he's staring down at 'Casey' in all of her charming five foot six stature. Not at all imposing, especially when she smiles so brightly with straight, white teeth that belong in a jingly commercial. A winner's smile, no question about it. Her finger's hooked upon his chin, angling his sights to hers. "We're home now," she gladly announces, whilst also appraising Declan in what he missed since he last felt her on his back, forlorn now with the absence of her weight, making him feel emptier. Not of his own accord, but of her own doing, pulling the strings in her mind. "Emily," she tells him, sounding too close, but also too far. The name resounds in his head, and not for his ears. Then more residual, "Emmie. That's what they called me when I was a little girl."
"Emily, huh? That's a pretty name." Declan brushes the dust off his knee and looks mildly discomfited, broken out of his tragically romantic and dangerously Orderly motions, when he realizes he didn't quite see her move to capture his chin like that. He doesn't fight it, though. It's futile and yet welcome. He even comes to return it, and slumps with a sigh. "Kiss me before you go?"
"One for the road," Casey allows, breathing in the sea salt air deeply, fondly, the effort making her moderate bust rise with the occasion. Then with a steady finger tickling Declan's chin with a strength that belies her appearance, angles his face in a picture perfect slant before she seals the deal by stepping on the tips of her toes, the waters lapping at her soles from behind.
In that very moment, nothing else exists. Just the sensation between Emily and Declan. Not Casey, Emily. On any random afternoon. The magic of the universe rears itself in a small, heartfelt moment of romance. Everything and nothing comes together, their fingers lacing together. Her lips purse into Declan's, and she weaves a tell for him alone. Emily becomes a lost flame he'll remember fleetingly. Someone that got away, not of his own fault this time. The circumstances, as far as he'll remember were entirely out of his hands, and he'll only recall that she passed away, never to return. Amnesia sets in, and when his eyes open, he'll find himself staring into the ocean without the dark-haired miss in sight, head clouded with confusion, but a spark lit in his heart.
The scouts might know better, and perhaps Declan might, too, if he'd read the reports later. Today, he gazes out to the sea with only the sinking feeling that he's lost something precious and dear but doesn't know what. Eventually, he starts the trudge back home.