Behind The Veil

[Cahir Murphy]

Ca'hir emerged from the surf like a viking Poseidon. Water steamed down the broad expanse of his torso. Shimmering droplets clung to the hairs of his chest like dew on a spider's web. For a brief moment he managed to hold on to the Oceanic Fertility God look, stretching and flexing his body like a sun lite siren's song. Then he ruined the whole thing by shaking the water off like a dog. By the time he reached the towel he was back to being brutish rather then beautiful.

Although he had dry clothes, he chose to remain in the knee length brown swimwear he was currently wearing. The spell which covered his runic tattoos was holding, so he chose expediency over fashion. Besides it would be nice to work on a tan the old fashioned way. Slipping on his backpack and sandals he began the long trek home.

He strolled down the boardwalk, leisurely entering shops as they peaked his interest. The concept of “No shoes. No shirt. No service.” had never reached the Verbena. Most store clerks seemed to agree that the giant could be an exception to the rule.

His walk through Venice had been largely uneventful until he saw Her. At first he did a double take, certain that he'd seen some umbral fairy in the reflection of the apothecary's window, but on second glance the vision remained. Inside Lovell's Apothecary was the loveliest maiden he'd seen in an age. But no child was she, oh no, the tiny bundle of curves and ginger hair was ripe indeed, but would she move with a Woman's grace or the timid steps of a Girl?

He watched her intensely, like a creepy stalker, paying special attention to her hips. Mostly she seemed to flit about the store like a gleeful creature, but when she slowed her walk enough for him to see, the confident rhythm of her gait was unmistakeable. The dainty little shop clerk was no virgin. Ca'hir could not have been more pleased. Unbidden a lecherous smile crept across his face as he fantasied about bringing his mouth to every part of her fair skin.

Acting upon his lust at first sight, he began the courtship display with a few whispered runes to adjust his scent. The spell wasn't designed to cover up his smell but to augment it's natural charms. It accomplished this by replacing some of the scents of the sea with male pheromones. He kept the changes subtle enough that if the girl was a rug muncher the stench wouldn't be too over powering.

Once his own scent was taken care of he entered the shop taking a deep breath through his nose. He took in the olfactory feel of the place, his mind separating out and analyzing the smells his enhanced nose discovered. The apothecary smelled of herbs, incense, flowers, and other things, but most importantly, it smelled of Her. Closing his eyes he savored the woman's rich yet delicate scent. To Ca'hir's mind she smelled like wild flowers and warm food, with just a hint of sex. By the Gods, he wanted her so badly.

He used the excuse of doffing his backpack to continue his attempt at being charming. The physique played an important role in any Verbena seduction, but the brutish barbarian was particularly good at making his body speak for him. The presence of the beautiful woman made him glad that he'd undressed for the occasion, now she could see more of the show. Moving more slowly then he had to, he pulled off one strap then the other in a careful dance to ensure that she got a good view of all he was offering. Unlike a body builder, Ca'hir had built his form for utility as well as show. He body was large and well defined, but his muscles didn't pop beneath his skin like overly inflate steroid balloons. Instead they swelled to more realistic proportions, turning his frame into a topography of male curves. Ca'hir knew he didn't appeal to every woman, but he had the tall, broad, and chiseled look down.

“Hello there. Is this shop new?” he asked the deep baritone of his voice dressing the words in gravelly tones. Flexing was the easy part, getting a woman to stay in the same room with him once her opened his mouth, was the crude Verbena's true challenge.

[Rebekkah Lovell]

It was always so nice and quiet right after lunch. Rebekkah made a habit of tidying up the shop during the post noon lull, not only because it gave her something to do besides drink the earl grey that had long since gone cold (another casualty of the lunch rush, though she would drink it anyway. Waste not.) but because it was much easier than trying to clean the place up when there were patrons around. No one batted an eye at her when she fluttered about her own shop cleaning, supposedly blind though she may so obviously have been. People expected that she must know the layout of her own business well enough to move confidently about. Paradox turned a blind eye to this socially accepted behavior on her part and so the coltish Verbena quite relished the opportunity to go about getting some quick work done without having to pretend that she hadn't seen a bag or purse that one of her customers had carelessly left in her way.



If it weren't for the giddy thrill of being able to play the "robbed of sight but gifted with otherworldly visions" seer, the whole pretending at infirmity would have been a total pain in the ass. Well... That and the bit where people offered, offered to let her touch their faces. Getting inside the personal space of others was always so very exciting.


Having taken all this into account the redhead couldn't be blamed all that much for having to suppress then internalize a mildly irritated sigh when she heard the lovely music of the metal and wood chime Janet had so helpfully picked up for her just a few days ago. As it clattered against the door when it swung closed the life mage lifted her head to the sound, tracking the interloper as she knew she was expected to, pausing in her current endeavor, which was standing on a little stool alongside a very tall set of shelves replete with numerous bottles and jars with cork stoppers, eradicating the dust that liked to cling in the thin spaces between the shelving unit and the floral-papered wall it rested against.


Though vaguely annoyed at the interruption, Bekkah's voice was as melodic as ever as she climbed down with due grace from her perch, the neat click of her very Victorian boot heels against the wood flooring audible and crisp. "The shop's been here for some time as I understand it. The sign, the contents and I are all recent imports. " She didn't get much further into her patter before she got a really good look at her visitor. A flutter of eyelashes did help to hide her surprise just a bit.


Looking at the man's Life pattern... mortals just weren't that well designed. He was half the size of a damn house, no noticeable damage from broken bones, no signs of illness or stress. Nevermind that men didn't generally produce such distinct levels of mortal musk. It wasn't that the scent didn't appeal but rather that its presence denoted an insubtle lack of effort on behalf of the user where finding a bed partner was concerned. Quite like splashing on three dollars worth of bathroom cologne in order to attract a date. If those little details sent up red flags then her suspicions were immediately confirmed by checking him over briefly with Prime.



You sir are a mage. There's nothing physical on you to fix, yet here you are in my shop, dripping water all over the floor. I haven't a thing to help you in any of these jars. I'm also fairly certain that you're letching on me. I can smell it. Very well then. Let's see how long it takes you to figure me out. You'd better not end up expecting me to trip on the backpack you just dropped. The stae of your knees would suffer for it.


She nudged the stepping stool under a nearby table, turning to 'meet' his eyes, pushing one strap on her ivory and peach embroidered dress back into place. Blast it all for being too hot inside for a shawl today... No one paid attention to a girl covered in black wool. "Is there anything I can help you find?"

[Cahir Murphy]

He was more then a little outraged that the focus of his desire seemed to be ignoring his obvious courtship display. He was angry, but not surprised. A woman responding badly to his attempts at charm, was nothing new. He hadn't had any luck with women since Bridgit.

He noticed her eyes just in time to stop him loudly telling her off. Her blindness filled him with hope. She simply hadn't seen his magnificent flexing, so how was she to know pleasures he could provide her? Besides blindness was easy to fix, he could play the visionary hero. A perfect end to what was sure to be a perfect bout of romance....if only he could begin the seduction.

That was where the problem really lay. A suddenly sightless sylph meant he would have to rely on his words to get what he wanted. Oh Goodie! To buy himself some time he took a quick look around the apothecary. Nothing that he hadn't seen before, or couldn't grow himself, but that was usually the case with shops that were open to the public.

“Not unless you have things in the back that you don't have out here. Make no mistake your collection is extremely impressive, but it wasn't the beauty of your wares which drew my attention.” he answered, beginning what he believed to be another doomed attempt at relations with a woman.

[Rebekkah Lovell]

Trying to catch the eye of the seeing impaired (or possibly the seeing enhanced, depending on your perspective...) can be a little like trying to get blood from a stone. Only people who really know what they're doing have a hope in hell of success. Rebekkah, who knew more than one way to draw blood (or anything else for that matter) from just about anything she pleased didn't as of yet care to comment on her customer's chances. It probably wasn't fair but he was being judged on an entirely different set of criteria than people usually were. So what? Life wasn't fair and if she weren't also a Life worker, then the odds would have been thoroughly stacked in his favor. So who cared to be fair about it?

Rebekkah turned and sauntered back over to her counter, that place where she mixed her various medicinal aids. This served two purposes in that it hid the fiery swell of red-headed anger that blossomed when he commented on the display... She made a dismissive waving gesture with one uplifted, fanciful hand. "Oh, of course I do. Don't you know anything about apothecaries? Everything interesting is in the back. Unless of course you've come to have your cards read that is." By the time she turned back around she hoped that it would merely look as though she were blushing, instead of looking as though she might poison him.

The move also got her close enough to the thin hallway that led to her back room to call her consort forward to join them. "Janet dear, are you almost finished with the dried sheep placenta?" No answer. If she could have, the ginger-haired witch would have rolled her eyes. Apparently she was to learn her delightful new companion's mother tongue, come hell or high water. Miss Lovell turned her head towards the curtained entryway and managed as best she could in Mandarin. ~Janet! Help me! I'm dying!~ Simple, direct and it was clear from her inflection that she was joking.

Shortly thereafter a short Chinese woman with a thick, black, chin-length bob haircut emerged from the back, dressed in a deep navy linen shift dress. She was all smiles, rounding on the shop's lone customer with magnificently full cheeks, beset by suitably adorable dimples that pinched the corners of her mouth. She was in her mid-thirties but robust and in excellent health, with strong hands accustomed to work. ~No kidding.~ She commented to her employer as she passed by the blind witch. "Hello sir. Can I help you with something or will you be taking a reading in back? Miss Lovell is very good. You won't be disappointed." She winked.

Damn consorts. They think they're so funny.

[Cahir Murphy]

Ca'hir took in the Mandarin laden exchange with comprehensive interest. His interaction with the Wu Lung had left him with an understanding of a number of Asian languages. He continued to peruse the shop as though he hadn't just claimed it held nothing he needed. For once he chose politeness over transparency, allowing the shop keepers to maintain the illusion of a private conversation. Only his the sudden slump of his shoulders revealed his mood.

So he was a mere handful of sentences in and the woman was already cry out for help, what a surprise. He wasn't shocked by her reaction, but he remained frustrated none the less. As far as he understood it he'd done little wrong. Certainly he'd moved boldly and spoken plainly, but that wasn't the same thing as an intended offense. It constantly baffled the Verbena that women, who were as a group inherently wise, seemed utterly incapable of telling the difference between a man who was simple and one who was stupid.

With typical Nordic fatalism he rapidly accepted that once more his life was fated to be free of vaginas. That was unfortunate, but at least he still had a tree at home that was always in the mood. Plants were so much easier to deal with then people. Since coitus was no longer his destiny he decided to see what else said destiny might hold. Assuming the seer was willing to see.

“I'm more then a little interested in having my future foretold. I'll warn you now I've had a difficult past and likely have a difficult future. Beware that my future might hold more blood then my past. Do you still wish to see what the Norns have prepared for me?” he said hoping the threat would be enough to push the little thing away. He'd recently given up on putting in effort with women. He'd tried with Peyton but the Hollower had used him for attention and little more. Even risking himself to show her the spirit world had not even garnered him a kiss on the cheek. What was the likelyhood that a stranger would be able to overcome a curse his most recent apprentice had failed to notice.

[Rebekkah Lovell]

Rebekkah gave a very silent, very internal sigh. Encouraging Janet was never a good idea for customers to latch onto, much less male customers. It didn't even really matter what they might be encouraging her on about. She mirrored the ginger-haired Verbena's whimsical sense of humor, albeit with an entirely different accent. Contrary to what the other mage present might choose to believe the petite consort hadn't come out front to ward him off of her mistress. The disciple simply had an admirable work ethic for such a carefree, fanciful witch. She didn't approve of closing down the shop in the interests of offering someone a reading, whether they were a fellow practitioner or not and the storefront couldn't just be left unattended.

Then again, if the remarkably broad man's idea of reasoning was to judge either woman based on less than half a dozen exchanges then there was probably extremely little that Miss Lovell and her spectacular cold reading abilities could do to help him. That of course didn't preclude her having a go at trying to crack open the other mage's inexplicably mopey mood. Luckily Janet had a fierce little attitude regarding the opposite sex. She positively exalted in taking the piss out of them one way or another whenever the opportunity presented itself. The short woman wasn't unfamiliar with the Norse, their pantheon just wasn't high on her list of possible truths. “Bahh.” She exhaled dismissively, still smiling away as though a man four times her size wasn't glowering at her. “Why are the cute ones always so moody? A dark and mysterious past doesn't guarantee a lousy future.” The little Chinese lady brushed past him, going about her work straightening up labels so that they faced forward, and making sure that lids were where they were supposed to be. “She'll have her work cut out for her no matter what she does, won't she?”

The comment egged a tiny smile out of Bekkah, who turned and swayed away towards the hallway, all lithe of limb and careless canter. Pushing the beige curtain that separated the shop from the seer's parlor, she paused with a hand braced against the door frame, hip cocked in challenge. “Well, I haven't any appointments for the day. You're more than welcome to come and see if your fate is any worse than your sense of humor.” She murmured laughter, brave and forthright as any maid who is still quite certain that she's invincible. It was really best that she lure him away from the front before her assistant exacerbated the situation further anyhow.

[Cahir Murphy]

Ca'hir had put his sour mood out for all to see and had received not but dry humor in return. Well humor and a compliment from the consort was more then enough to impact his disposition. It had been some time since a lady had referred to him as cute, the carelessly positive tone lingered with him.

He stood a little taller now and regarded both women with more respect then wariness. “I hope my fate is better, but I still have my doubts. The Norns rarely change their tune mid-tale.” he paused to contemplate whether or not to share the next piece of information. He wasn't certain the Maiden was a true witch, but he deemed her close enough to merit more of the truth.

“You see I am cursed, so I don't see much joy in my future. A woman I once hand-fasted deemed that if I wouldn't love her, I would love no other woman. Thus how can my life be truly blessed if I can only sip a pleasure I would quaff?”

[Rebekkah Lovell]

Rebekkah sighed, deeply, internally, again. Men were SO literal about everything. Even when she opted to see how the other set lived and did some very serious gender-breaking she could practically feel the intensely testosterone laden broodiness creeping up over her like a veil. As though someone had sucked all the common sense and good humor out through one of her ears. Well... That wasn't true of all men. Just the strictly traditional ones.

God knew they had ALL the answers. So if they couldn't answer their own questions, NO ONE could. It was hopeless, utterly hopeless... Balderdash. Bunch of stupid self involved poppycock... The Verbena went into her consultation room and sat down comfortably in a wide seated wicker papasan chair. Customers LOVED it when their diviner sat cross-legged.

While she waited for Janet to usher him through, as she surely was doing even now from the sound of it, the ginger witch reached onto a shelf beside herself and withdrew a flimsy gray blindfold. Tying this around her faded eyes, purely for the sake of showmanship of course, she waited for her client to be seated in the tiny room. She spoke only once the door had clicked shut behind him.

The maiden shuffled her tarot cards with great flourish, gracing her fellow mage with a bemused smile. "Now, first off there's two things I can tell you without so much as cutting this deck. One: no one who thinks that their future is set in stone bothers having their cards read, so you can't really be so certain of your fate. Two: the only curse I can sense on you is a bothersome trait that fixes you to your past. Handfasting isn't meant to last forever, everyone knows that. So get over it and maybe she will too. "

I also suspect that failure has made you lazy. We'll get to that.

"So. Cut this deck three times if you dare. We'll see what else awaits. " She said, proffering the tarot in one silken hand. She knew how it would go. He'd cut the deck, she'd flare out a celtic cross. He was a mage, so all the cards would insist on being major arcana. He would be shocked.

Then she would make the rest up as she went along.

[Cahir Murphy]

The Maiden strolled away berating him with her perfectly proportioned hips. He so loved women and their subtle ways. Changing his sex had been one spell he'd never tried. His magick, his very identity was tied to being a man, to men's ways and men's power. Without these things he did not know who he would be.

The spice of her scent brought his magick up sending the hint of resonance drifting in his wake. Both the curse and his own will had a say in the power which leaked from his pores. Entropy slipped forth to wreak havoc amongst the girl's wears. Meanwhile the Dynamic spilled forth unto her cards, wrapping them in undreamed possibilities.

“As you wish.” he said cutting the deck. He willed her words into the cards, such as he could. Then he waited with baited breath for the first card to turn. They now held answers he'd never been allowed to see.

[Rebekkah Lovell]

There was nothing subtle about the spread the other Verbena set upon her ritual table. Every card, as prophesied by the ginger witch, belonged to the major arcana, every one perfectly placed along the cross she doled out, each inference more striking and meaningful than the last. Running her fingers over the cards the blind girl wasted no time telling the large gentleman exactly what she'd drawn for him.

Purposefully in at least one case.

“Hmmm.... well, you can be assured one way or another that your fate, though it might not sealed as you seem to think it is, will be awe inspiring one way or the other. Your own choices will serve as the vehicle for your Destiny, so let us see what the cards have to tell me about what is most important for you to know... then you may ask any questions that occur to you.” She gave a curt nod and slid her fingers over to the 9th and therefor by some standards the most important card in the deck.

“The Lovers. Here inverted and set in position of your hopes and fears. You're a very straightforward person, aren't you? This card, upside down in this place tells me very much about you, and how paralyzed you are by your fears that no one will ever understand you in addition to wanting very badly to be part of a matched set while angsting away pitifully that this is not to be. I can tell you right now that it will come to pass unless you get your head out of your ass about what some stupid girl said to you while she was angry.” Rebekkah tilted her head at him, her tone pleasant enough despite what she'd just spat at him. Men were stubborn like this sometimes, they fixated. It was as nice as she could be about it without yelling.

Of course the Wheel stood in his present, overlaid by Temperance. She hadn't cold drawn that one, which made things interestingly... symmetrical. His unwillingness to accept the past for what it was and move on impeding his Destiny was... extremely heavy-handed of the deck, but alright...

Though there were some bright spots... maybe a new friend and possibly nothing. “The Star... flanked by the Fool?” she murmured... How did insane wisdom bring tranquility and renewal anyway? “Well... I suppose you might actually be meeting someone fairly soon... a sort of terrifyingly strange combination of the blasphemous and the divine it would seem... so be wary and try not to screw that up.”

[Cahir Murphy]

 Ca'hir didn't know much of how Tarot cards worked. Like crystal balls, or casting the bones, they were just part of how other Verbena observed Destiny and Time. This led him to take all that she said as though it were a dire warning from an oracle of old. If he'd known she was cold reading he might have killed her over the insult. 

The revelation of the Lovers card filled him with both hope and a great deal of anxiety. So his curse was meant to be broken, yet his acceptance of his fate had led him to end most serious attempts at romantic pleasure before they began. Losing so much time to such poor reasoning pained him visibly. 

The remaining series confused him greatly. Why was there no World nor Moon card? If he was to undergo a journey would he still have Gaia's blessing? If he took a new lover did the absence of the Moon preclude the Garou? 

"Alright Seer, you've shown me things that I did not wish to know but needed to see, and have thus proven your merit." he announced, his gruff voice full of presumed authority. He was always at his most arrogant before he gambled. 

"I have many questions that will require both your talents and discretion. In this day and age neither is free, I would 
pay for what I wish to know. If it's as simple as money or gold then I shall have it to you within a ten-day, but if you wish something more challenging, such as deeds, then I would know what you would have me do before I agree."

"So you understand I wish to know more about my potential love life. I still fear that my curse might harm any woman I bed, can you advise me on what I should do about this? I also wish to know what signs I should be looking for which might mark a potential mate, and finally if that mate or mates is/are shapeshifters such as werewolves, and if they serve the Earth Mother. Can you answer what I wish to know, and if so, what would your price be for such wisdom?" he asked in a blunt and long winded fashion. Some thing such as negotiations with Witches and Fae can not be rushed. 

[Rebekkah Lovell]

Some people could just suck all the fun out of a room.

Rebekkah's current customer seemed to be having little trouble achieving it through sheer obstinacy. Usually the ginger witch would have been called on her game by now... Was it possible for someone to be so purposefully dim? The Verbena wagered that it was, given how positively serious Ca'hir was going about speaking to her... as though the pale devil had any divination skills which were not linked directly to Life and it's inevitable eventualities.

Common sense was so rare in the big city.

“I didn't really think you were serious.” If the young woman could have raised her eyebrows without risking severe personal pain in the near future, she would have. There just wasn't anything else that she could think of to say. “It never would have occurred to me that anyone quite so obviously a witch as you would have had trouble sussing out that I'm no auror.” She gathered up the cards, putting the sham that had been the other mage's card reading.

“Your potential love life is crippled by your insistence in herding it into an acceptable string of events or that form which most pleases the sensibilities that you think you should have, but actually don't. It's sort of sad, really.” The life worker made a vague motion with one hand. It was fairly dismissive. “If I spent even half so much time trying to jury-rig my own extracurricular activities I'd probably kill myself.” Miss Lovell gave the merest giggle, though really she knew somewhere deep down that it was cruel to laugh at the misfortunes of others.... even if those ill-omens were of the subject's own design and application. “I mean I know we can toy with the fabric that the Universe had laid out for us but that's hardly any excuse to try and plot out the course of your entire life.”

Rebekkah registered the questions concerning the shapeshifters, checked it for sarcasm, found none and actually did raise her eyebrows, Paradox be damned. That was actually a serious question? The expression the blind magic user wore was somewhere between incredulous and questioning her customer's sanity. “Are you joking? What kind of a question is that? There are plenty of people in the world who are smarter than that from the outset, though you obviously aren't one of them so let me sell you a clue, there is no cost for my wisdom: It's Priceless. As for that gibberish about the shifters, if you had even half a brain you'd know better than to intentionally seek out that kind of rubbish liaison. It's a good way to get your head ripped off. For heaven's sake, it's dangerous enough laying with your own kind.”

Fighting the urge to feel like rolling her eyes the Verbena added her final two cents to the matter, leaning back in her chair and and shrugging as though nothing that she had yet said, or intended to say could be construed as an insult. “Besides, I don't really know that I can knowingly suggest that you're fit to shag something with claws."

"You can't even spot a cold-read.”

[Cahir Murphy]

“You'd be surprised what I'm fit to shag. I've had worse done to me in the name sex then a few claw marks, and enjoyed it all might I add. Were I a greater fool then I've already proven, I'd assume that a slip of a girl such as yourself would be stranger to the joys of a little rough sex. As is I believe you've misunderstood my intent, but given me good advice non the less. My obsession with the shapeshifters has led me down a poor path more then once, so perhaps it's time I set myself to serving Gaia in my own manner rather then waiting for a divine being to instruct me.” Not that any of the Garou he'd met so far had seemed the least bit divine, Rebekah on the other hand, was a different matter. A girl as beautiful and brilliant as her deserved to be worshiped appropriately. Her maiden curves and vicious tongue filled him with the lustful yearnings of a much younger man. If she kept up like this the blood was never going to return to his brain.

Miserable grump that he was, he found it unlikely that such a fine thing would wish to benefit from the ache she stirred in his loins so he attempted to speak of other things. “I must admit that you had me fooled completely. I knew you were a witch from the way you keep looking at me without eyes, so I simply assumed that you were a seer. Especially given your blindness.” he said his will bowing to his wishes once more as he looked her over again. Dear gods! They hadn't used a single ounce of ugly when they'd made her. Her every inch was tantalizing pink perfection. Oh how Gaia could be cruel to taunt him so.

Shifting his lust derailed mind back on track he continued his self-deprecating explanation. “The mistake is made all the less forgivable by my position in this city. I am the eldest, and until recently, the only Verbena in this city. Ye certainly don't owe me any fealty or any of that bull crap, but if you have any need of assistance or guidance I am here for you and the few others we have. As it stands I owe you payment for the truths you've told me, and I would reward your boldness in telling them to me. Over the years my sanctum has grown large and can support the workings of others. Should you have need of a space in which to do grander works then you may use my home if you wish. I would not see someone as....” he paused the curse inconveniencing his tongue, “as lovely and intelligent as you, ravaged by paradox. If I pay you no other kindness then let it be this, you are a work of art Miss Lovell. I have supped at the table of goddesses and Sidhe and yet never have I seen a woman as uniquely beautiful as you.” he said keeping his tone as level as possible. He meant the compliment as an expression of fact not to be mistaken for some pathetic attempt to bed her. He well and truly believed that that ship had already sailed.

“Although I now know that divination isn't one of them, I can see that you are a woman of great talent. None the less there are things which one can not always do for one's self. Aside from offering the use of my home, oh and the repair of your wears, is there anything you have need of? Anything which I might help with to make you life in this tomb of electronics and plastic any easier to bear? It has been far, far too long since this city has had enough of our kind to make a difference, I would not lose your presence here to some inconvenience or problem which I could help solve.”

Realizing that he'd left out the two crucial things he continued. “My apologies for being so rude to you Miss Lovell. My name is Ca'hir Murphy of the Valdermen. If you have need of me the fox in this stone will guide you to me.” he said taking a hand carved statue of a fox from his pocket. The vixen inside had agreed to become part of the fetish only if she was given to a woman as clever as her. Ca'hir was certain that Miss Lovell would be to the spirit's liking.

[Rebekkah Lovell]

“Oh do shut up.” Rebekkah replied dryly. “It would be a cold day in hell when there'd be anything you could say about yourself or myself that would surprise me in the least. How could I possibly misunderstand your intent? It's enough that I know YOU do. Talking about subjugating yourself and deities, are you very certain you aren't a Choirister? That only a God is fit to teach you... please. I know six year olds who could do that.”

All the compliments, lovely as some of them assuredly were, were abolished utterly from the lady's ears as though she'd never heard them, the instant the word 'fealty' was uttered. There had of course been elder Verbena who had attempted to bring the ginger-witch to heel in the past, and the less said about how it went for them the better... so despite Ca'hir's best attempts at civility Rebekkah's reaction was acidic. “You're DAMN right I don't owe you anything!” Already primal sparks of yellow and white lit the tips of her left hand where she reflexively pushed herself back against the wall. “I didn't listen the the Gardeners in England and I'm not bloody well going to start now! Did they send you? If they did you can tell them to STUFF IT! I'm not interested. If I had a pound for every limb of the Tree who'd offered to me to girth of his weighty sanctum I'd be able to afford my own blasted Estate. Stupid sodding traditionalists and their archaic, long-bearded, narrow minded, infuriating... OH Bekkah you're a TREASURE, OH Bekkah you're a ROSE, bunch of patronizing poppycock... Their roots are so entangled in one another's that they choke out every sprout of new growth.”

She did not touch the proffered stone, save to nudge the fox laden artifact off of her tarot cards. “I don't speak to spirits, and I'm not interested in keeping your spy. If you're really concerned about what it is that I like, let me make it easy on you: I like doing things for myself. If you have any of those adorable rituals for the seasons, I might be persuaded to attend, but most of them positively bore me to tears. In lieu of the fox, is it beyond the realm of possibilities that you might have a phone number?” She spoke a mile a minute on a good day, it got considerably worse when she was mad... it was safe to say given the poignant little sniffs she was giving at every available interval that she was livid. The color was high in her cheeks, her mouth pursed petulantly to one side when not in vehement motion.

If her vexing behavior aroused the Valderman's... arousal, she didn't seem the least bit apologetic about it. It was unlikely by now that she hadn't noticed. “Incidentally, 'nonetheless' is ONE word, either stop over-pronouncing it or just say 'in any case' if you can't wrap your head around the idea of more than two syllables in per word!”

By now it was probably obvious that she was being an argumentative bitch to suit her own whims, pushing her male counterparts buttons merely because she could... probably.

[Cahir Murphy]

Bekkah's anger did arouse lower parts of Ca'hir but the Valderman was far too pissed off to notice. "Are you deaf as well as blind? I said you do NOT owe me fealty. NOT being the all important part of that sentence.  For someone who is so hung up on my lack of eloquence you certainly are good at missing the point of a statement. Perhaps if you weren't so hung up on checking my grammar you might actually be able to listen to what I fucking said!" he said going red in the face. But making no move to get closer to her. Like many large men he'd become overly sensitive to his own aggression and the fear it could bring about. He didn't want to frighten away the doe before him, or worse still, set her off!

"I would never think of binding you or another member of my tradition with some stupid oath of fealty, but obviously from your over reaction the practice does still happen so I thought I would let you know that it's not happening here! Unlike you, and your hurtful games, I believe in being up front and honest, at least where other Verbena are concerned!" he bellowed not even close to finished. 

"And forgive me for offering the use of my sanctum. It was unkind of me to assume that you might like access to a place where you could work your will, free of the Technocracy's predations! Wrong of me to offer hospitality in this hostile land. How utterly and completely selfish of me to offer to share this resource which I have painstakingly created! You're right Miss Lovell, I should be more generous and hoard all the power and privilege for myself!" he shouted steam practically rising off him. 

"Oh yes! A phone! Why I'd never thought of that before. I'll have that little piece of electronic modernity installed right away. All the better to guide the Technocracy to my door so they can brainwash or vivisect me! Next you'll be expecting me to pay taxes or have a real social insurance number! Where you not here during the war?" this screw up caused him to rapidly lose momentum. She hadn't been here. She really didn't know. 

"I'm sorry that last comment was unfair. You really weren't here, and since you're not but a charlatan when it comes to seeing, you wouldn't know why there was only one Verbena here for so long. There used to be more of us here, then they made mistakes like getting a phone number." he said with the utter certainty of a man who in his hubris had cut himself off all but completely from the modern world. He took the fox-stone back without further comment, his brooding sulk becoming all the more obvious as he did so. He was glad that the little witch couldn't see the loneliness and pain which the bad memories provoked. That would be truly embarrassing.