"I ... am an Einherjar... or perhaps... more accurately, was...", there was a pause as he considered that.  You have no idea what an Eiherjar is... maybe Zander might know... failing that there was always the Misty Valley Library, "Now... i am perhaps a herald of warning to act.  Act and perhaps await the fate of the end of all days."

That one unblinking eye balls stares at you, which is a little unnerving, "I can say with certainty that I am no ancestor of yours... though I can not say that you perhaps may be one of mine.", he seems to contemplate that for a moment.

"The weaver's tapestry has come undone.  All the threads of our days... your days... will be cut.  No more will threads be added to the tapestry of all.  Unless... I can stop it... unless WE can stop it.  As you can see... i have no body fit to serve me.  I have need of a fit strong body worthy of an Einherjar to do battle once again.  Instead... I am left with this soft ... mewling... girl child... Dark days ahead of us i forsee...", Saskia... might not be sure, but she's pretty sure she was just backhandedly insulted.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:47, Tue 21 Nov 2023.

Saskia really tried to keep it together.  It was All Hallow's Eve, the Veil was thin.  But she couldn't handle being berated by whatever this things was without provocation.  "This... this has to be a joke." she muttered, casting about and looking for the youth or fey that had her under its spell.

But seeing none, her gaze returned to the mutilated monstrosity that was addressing her.  "What are you talking about?" her volume was rising unconsciously, as agitation filled her with dread, "What the hell is an Einherjar, Vǫlundr?  And what do you mean the 'End of Everything'?!?  And that we have to stop it?"  Her sixteen year-old psyche couldn't quite comprehend what that might really mean; as far as she was concerned Saskia and her friends were still protected by the invulnerability of youth.  Hell, Clotilde had already cheated death at least once (even if she'd been gifted with a festering wound that refused to heal fully).

She clutched her head, as she tried to make sense of all the random babble, "And you aren't my ancestor because I'm yours?  What the hell does that mean?"  Her green eyes narrowed, "Like you're supposed to be from the future?"  The skepticism peaked, "Yeah, right..."

But then the vivid memory of the collapsing Norse long hall and fiery giants approaching pushed into her vision unbidden - just like on the night of her vigil, the night of her dedication to Luna.  Saskia stifled a scream as she felt her body wracked with phantom sensations and bombarded with stark, visceral stimulus of anger, pain, and inconsolable grief.  "You..." she half-breathed and half-sobbed, "You're the one in my dreams."  The young redhead fell to her knees, sobbing, "You ... What do you want?"  The naked truth of Vǫlundr's proclamations confronted her, gnawing away at the barriers of reason to there expose her to the stark, brutal realities being shown to her.  Terrible and frightening visions of untold silvery skeins snipped, cajoled, and woven by impossibly dexterous hands, guided by cloaked, unseeing eyes flashed before her.  Impossible and incomprehensible things were thrust into her mind.  There to fester.  For once they were seen, they could not be unseen.

Her shoulder slumped, a slick sheen of perspiration coated skin, making it clammy and uncomfortable.  Saskia felt powerless for a long, pregnant moment.

But then her emerald green eyes looked up at the strange, ungainly apparition.  Her head lifted in defiance.  There still tears in her eyes, but there was a steely resolve as well.  "You can't have my body.  You don't want it anyways... " she croaked, lashing out in frustration and anger, "I'll have you exorcised."

"Vǫl...un.... dr!", the apparition all but hollers at her with thunderous volume as he enunciates each syllable of his name.

"How do you propose to exorcise me when you can not even pronounce my name properly!"

There was a pause.... a really long one as they regarded each other.  What was it that wanted anyway.  Really...

Long sighted strategic thinking... if he was being honest... was not his strong suit.  Give him an able body... a for to mangle... and the means to do it and he was happier than an Einherjar in Valhalla after a day of hacking up Blackbloods and Spawns of Nyx.

"I'm a warrior... not a talker or thinker.  Skuld... Heska... You need to find them.  They will assist you."

He leans in to look at Saskia intently, "Til then...I'll be watching.", this close... you SHOULD smell something, but instead feel a somewhat un natural chill.  The index of his right hand taps your forehead.

"Call... and... I may answer.", There is a 'whooosh' of a sudden wind blowing through the area and... he's gone as his body seem to carry along with the sudden wind and vanish as his body passes through Saskia.

She's left in a cold sweat... in a dead silent moonlit night.  The reflexive thought that this was all a horrible dream inflicted tries to ease into your thoughts to insulate your over stimulated thoughts.

'I... can... hear... you...', the vague whisper of Vǫlundr's voice echos clearly in her mind.  All the more clearer in the silent night.

At her current level, Saskia may expend mana points to appeal to Vǫlundr for assistance during a fight, new abilities will be granted at third level.  (Einherjar's Heroism)

1 mana point - Vǫlundr's Guidance - +1 to either Attack Roll or Saving Throw.  Cast as a Free or Swift action before a roll is made.  May be applied after a roll for double the mana cost.

2 mana point - Supernatural guidedstrike - +20 bonus to next attack roll, if made by end of next round .  Cast as a Standard action.  May be cast as a free action for double the mana cost.

Saskia's clenched fists trembled with frustration when Vǫlundr mocked her pronunciation and then her (admittedly) childish and hollow taunt, throwing them back (metaphorically) in her face.

Then he threatened her in his own way, making it abundantly clear that his threats were neither idle nor hollow.  Even if they were clumsy and ham-fisted, they were still effective.  She instinctively recoiled, leaning back when the apparition press forward to emphasize his point.

But to no avail, Vǫlundr was upon her in a flash.  And then he pushed himself through her.  The supernatural chill made her nauseous, painfully so.  She doubled over and tried to retch, but succeeded in only dry-heaving, the contents of her stomach from earlier in the night long digested.  She wiped the bile and spittle from her trembling lower lip.  If her body hadn't reacted so viscerally and violently, Saskia might have discounted it as a nightmare on All Hallow's Eve or a practical joke.  But this was no joke.

"Skuld. Heska." she repeated glumly.  The names were stubbornly stuck in her head and she thought that she could Vǫlundr's disembodied, distant voice laughing at her.   And even though she apparently was not alone, Saskia shuddered and pulled her cloak tightly around her.  She never felt lonelier or at more of a loss as for what to do.

She knew she couldn't tell her parents; they'd think her crazy.  And would really try to have her exorcised; but Vǫlundr wasn't a traditional spirit as far as she could tell.  Nor was this a traditional possession.  A heavy sigh caused lanky frame to tremble.  "Clo..." came to her lips unbidden.  Yes, her friends could be told; Clotilde or Mei or Victoria would know what to do.  One of her circle of friends would have a clue.

With that resolved, Saskia stood and dusted herself off.  Grabbed her package that she was supposed to deliver and trudged off into the night.  It was a long trek home; and though she was still tired, Saskia knew that she wasn't getting any more sleep tonight.  She needed to get her family's manse in Laytown and then back to Misty Valley and her friends.

"Skuld...." she repeated almost as a mantra, "Heska..."

Looking haggard and feeling even worse than she looks, Saskia mumbled a 'thank you' in Gaelic to gatekeepers and stepped through the portal and into the crisp Misty Valley air.  Normally, the fresh smells and sounds of valley would fill her with joy and wash away her many worries.

But not today.  The young redhead hadn't really slept for a few days now and it showed.  Saskia was afraid of falling asleep now.  It wasn't just the dreamsnightmares of the endless waves of the dead and demons that wash over the land.  As if finding Evil was everywhere - and that the future was overrun with it.  Those were bad.

No. There was more.  More than once after a cat nap, Saskia has found herself somewhere else.  Apparently, sleepwalking is now in vogue with her.  The first time was the night she'd returned to Laytown.  While she'd fallen asleep in her bed, the next thing she knew she was stuffing her face in the kitchen and had scared both the dogs and Maeve, one of their servants, half to death with her demands.  The lack of sleep had made her more irritable and sullen than normal for the teenaged redhead; that night she raided the liquor cabinet and got properly drunk in an attempt to sleep until dawn.  It succeeded (she thinks), but the next day's hangover was terrible.

She blew and errant lock of red hair from her face as she cinched the straps of her pack tighter and set down the path towards Northshire.  With any luck, she'd find one (or more) of her friends along the way.  She knew she was early for the weekend, but such was the dire straits that she found herself experiencing.  She so dearly needed a familiar face to talk to.

The scion of House Morrigan pushed on towards Northshire planning to stop at the wayside inn along the way.

Over the next few days (and nights) Saskia doesn't get much sleep.  In her waking moment she can sense that she's not alone and that eyes are upon her.

Worse when wariness seems to overtake her and she edges towards sleep, she can almost feel him waiting for her in the shadows of her mind.

You arrive at the gate... sometime later... and you just pay the toll to get to the Misty Valley, you dont have the focus of thought at the moment to take yourself there.

It's 'Friday' by the time to you get to the Misty Valley.  You're actually... early.

You've barely had any sleep over the last three nights.  Look snatches here and there, a fitful catnap there.  When you do give in to the irrepressible urge to sleep you always awake regretting it.  It's dark... ever so dark... a world without light... hordes of Black Blood prowl the land outmatted only by the Spawn of Nyx that rove the night looking for what entertainment they might find in it.

You always awake screaming feeling more exhausted than when you slept.  You feel better during the day.  To walk in the day light... even if it is a gloomy turn of the seasons, feels infinitely better than the nights or worse your nightmares.


The thread ... unofficially ... opens at this point.  Subject to whoever Saskia looks for (or just plain runs into at this point).  I'm keeping to the belief that no 'serious' adventuring will take place till after the holidays, and if people are enjoying the roleplaying i might extend it some more.

Saskia arrives at the Northshire Inn, and Miranda gives the Inn Keeper gives her a concerned look.  Food and Drink is brought over and put in front of her without Saskia evening asking for it.

None of Saskia's childhood friends seemed to be about, likely they were still sleeping off the sugar induced comas from the booty gained from Hallow's Eve, or more likely preparing for the Autumn Festival which was just around the corner.

The language and culture she was dealing with was completely new and strange to Saskia, though her friends were rather diverse in culture, and it was possible that some of them might be more in the know about what exactly she was dealing with.

She waited for them to show up.  They had shown up every other Friday, really there was no reason not expect them to miss the usual gathering tonight.  As she waited she realized... she was hungry.  Really... when was the last time she bothered to feel inclined to make a decent meal for herself?  It seemed like a really long time ago.  Actually... while she has been eating... here and there... she can't remember the last thing she actually ate.  The obvious pang in her tummy suggested now as much as any other time was a good time to indulge in the fine fare.


We are in real time initiative at this point.

You arrive in whatever order you actually post in.  If Saskia arrives first she may post her meal... mental state... or anything else she pleases to set the mood on what she looks like as you arrive, else you  may presume she looks like she's been moonlighting as a hobo...

Haggard.  That probably best described how Saskia looked at this point in time.  She had her parade armor on, though it looked slight worse for wear this time.  She'd obviously not bothered to wipe it down - and the roads must have been extra muddy (and dusty) on this trip.  Her boots were scuffed and caked with mud, while her hair was rough and tumble.  An attempt had been made to pull it back, into a pony tail - but that must have been a while ago as plenty of locks had escaped their restraints had fell haphazardly about the cheeks and neck.

Saskia gratefully accepted the offered food.  She tried to thank Miranda, but suspected that it had mostly come out as a grunt.  Her stomach was rumbling, but she'd been denying filling it until Northshire since the hunger pangs helped to keep her awake and gave her a focus away from the dreadful nightmares and overwhelming fatigue.  Of course, such measures only worked for so long.  As she tucked into the bread, cheese, and stew, Saskia savored the flavors.  The sensation was a strange mix; on the one hand, it was comforting - the Inn's fare was hearty and familiar.  But there was a touch of alien glee and surprise as though the tastes were being felt for the first time in a very long time (or perhaps ever) since such spices and sensations had hit her tongue.  Everything old is new again... she mused silently to herself, knowing that she wasn't really alone.  Truly cold comfort, in these trying times.

Her eyes continually darted towards the door whenever anyone new arrived.  The redheaded healer had to temper her disappointment when it wasn't one of her friends.  She felt as if her heart would burst, if she didn't get to talk to someone about her predicament soon.  But for the moment, Saskia had to keep it bottled up inside.

Which was probably nothing new.  She'd been seemingly doing it for a few months now...

Zander tosses open the door with no small amount of excitement.  He scans the hall for his friends.  It's still early, but he couldn't wait 'til later when the whole crew was more likely to be around.  Luckily, Saskia is there.

"Heeeeeeeeyyyy, guess what I found." he says, covering the distance from the door to Saskia's table in three springy bounds.

His ever-present guitar is slung over his shoulder, and he's holding the handle of a small, covered basket in his other hand.

"I found it in the stables this morn... afternoon," he corrects.

"Guess what it is.  Guess, guess, guess!"

Saskia was always amazed by Zander's boundless enthusiasm.  But then the flaxen-haired bard was in his element, whereas the red-headed healer was ... well, she was uncertain of just what her element was.  She'd always been torn between the two worlds.  And now she was torn between (at least) three.  A wan smile touched her burgundy lips and she finished chewing her latest mouthful of stew as she thought.  "Uh," she ventured tentatively trying not to let her weariness poke through and stalled with, "That can't be the Rod of Sol just abandoned in a barn..."

The teen healer blew an errant lock of flame-red hair from her face, then asked, "Is it puppies?  Or kittens?"  Saskia was well aware that the small basket was not nearly large enough to hold even one puppy or kitten most likely.

Clotilde/Heska arrived and was dreading the meeting. Clotilde's sleep had been restless, she was having flashbacks to a life that she couldn't remember. The other person in her could though, and for the past few nights her dreams had been about riding her flying horse that she knew was named Frialdana, and battling the Jotun of Jotunheim and Muspellshiem in glorius battle, spear in one hand, reins of the horse in the other. She could smell the fires in the mead hall, and hear the camaraderie of her fellow female warriors. There were pangs of longing that followed those moments, as if they could never be, There had been other things as well, dreams of fire and a large tree that she didn't recognize that had doorways to other worlds, being demolished and consumed by a large wolf and snake. It had been like this for a few months now. Sometimes Clotilde couldn't remember what she'd done what had happened for a long period of time, as if she wasn't present in her own body for periods of time. Her grasp on her reality was tenuous, and she'd been told by others around her that she seemed distant at times, as if she weren't there. For Heska's part, she was getting used to the new body she was in, and was finally learning how Clotilde's fighting style, the weapons she wielded, and the quickness of her new body. It was not strong like her prior body, but was much more flexible and definitely more agile. She was also dark haired, and had a more feminine physique. Heska's old body was muscular, and strong, not lithe and wiry, and it had taken some getting used to.

She was tired. So it was when she entered the establishment that there were dark circles under her eyes. She spied Saskia, and she looked about the same. She saw Zander as well, and made her way to them.

Fate leads many places and that is why Kristi since coming to this new world has let it take the lead on everything she does.  Although one may think that it is also that she is too clueless to follow signs.  Still be that as it may right now she is on a mission to find whatever it is that she is supposed to find.

As such in font of her is the Northshire inn.  And at the time she was facing north so this just seemed another piece of the path in front and as such one would not want to ignore that.  So Kris entered into the inn.  Maybe she would luck out and would be able to perform.  Maybe she would luck out and whatever it is that brought her here would jump out in front of her.  And what does she see...attractive people.  She liked attractive people as they were pretty.  And well she thought she was pretty too so why not take a chance.

It was then she realized she was so in her own head that she recognized those people and as such shook her head to clear the distractions and come to focus and approaches the table of Saskia and smiles, "Do you mind if I take a seat?"  She asks ever polite and happy there will likely be no yelling back.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:19, Mon 27 Nov 2023.

Zander is surprised and pleased.

"Wow, you're good.  Got it on the first try."

He sets the basket down in the middle of the table and lifts the cover.  Up pokes the tiny head of a black kitten.  A paw plants on the rim of the basket and its blue eyes look around with curiosity, but no fear at all.

"A little black kitten.  Just one.  Sorry," he apologizes as if he had mis-filled an order for a whole litter.  "Isn't that the perfect thing right after All Hallows Eve?"

The kitten looks over at the rock artist.  He gives her a small *boop* on the nose.

When Clotilde arrives and shuffles over, Zander slides a chair out for her with his foot.  She looks exhausted, which wasn't uncommon for her these days.  They must really be working Clotilde hard at the temple.  Zander is glad he isn't an adept or priestess or temple guardian (guardianess?).  Life in the fast lane is tiring enough without a bunch of responsibility and duty to...  Is it Luna?  No that's Saskia's god.  Wait, maybe it's Chlotilde's god.  No, he distinctly remembers Saskia going on about The Bright Lady.  Then again, he is pretty sure the temple at the fort is a temple to Luna.  Zander shakes his head, confused.  Better not to bring it up.

"Hey Chloe!  Look who I found."

He ruffles the kitten's fur playfully and rubs behind both ears at once.  The kitten lets out a squeak not easily heard over the relatively quiet background noise of the still mostly empty pub.

"Her name is Lizzy."

It's just then that Kristi walks through the door, looking to all the world like she just stepped into a den of strangers for the first time.  That will not do.  These two young ladies are more than capable of looking after a squirmy fuzzball, so he leaves them to it and goes to greet Kristi with a big hug.  It occurs to Zander that his favorite orphan is more than a bit kittenish herself, but more in a hot way.

"Come meet Lizzy," he says, taking a quarter step back after the hug.  This girl has no need for personal space, so he tends to stand closer to her than would with others to make her feel comfortable.

"Oh, and I've got a special, spooky graveyard song for tonight if you want to sing a duet.  I've been just dying to play it," putting a campy All Hallows sound to the word 'dying'.

He unshoulders the guitar and plays a few haunting bars of the song as they walk to Saskia's table.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:50, Mon 27 Nov 2023.

"Good Evening All...", Mei shows up in her Hallow's Eve 'costume'.

It was the traditional robes of a daughter of Creed.  Long black robes, with accents of white here and there.  [sort of like a nun, but with out the head wear?]  It was rather odd, but she blended in more naturally dressed like this than her normal attire, and decided to try wearing it for 'everyday wear' to see if it would make blend in more.

"A new tune to regale us with then Zander?", she does a brief headcount to see who's about and who's missing, "It seems i'm not last for once."

Mei waves a waitress down, "The same as her...", she orders some food pointing to Saskia's meal.  Knowing this bunch it was best to get a head start on food before getting too deep into regaling with Zander.

"Hopefully we all had more treats than tricks this Hallow's Eve?"

"Not so many treats, a few tricks."  She looked at Zander, daring him.  She had been less than stellar the last outing, and she wanted more.  Or something more.  She stood and beckoned, using her fingers to encourage him.

Though unsteady on her feet, the kitten is a little bundle of energy and curiosity.  Lizzy tumbles out of the small basket and goes from Chlotilde to Kristi and back again, not lingering for more than an instant or two.  There is too much else to see and smell.  She briefly visits Sa Mei before trotting towards Saskia, stumbling along the way.  She gets up and hisses at the redhead before sniffing Saskia's plate.


At Mei's and Victoria's beckon Zander starts playing a tune that sounds a little too cheerful for a spooky All-Hallows song.  It is, however, somewhat entrancing.  His lack of setup with Kristi makes it clear that this is not yet the duet he spoke of.  Merely something to keep his restless friends entertained.

"Sun light fall"
"down on the fields."
"Sun light fall"
"down over me."
"Work all day."
"Be all that I can be."

There is no rough edge to the fluid harmony his voice weaves with the strings.  The song is soothing and disarming.  He walks up to Victoria while playing and draws her eyes to his own.  Not all performance is musical or lyrical.

"Haunted love is all that I feel"
"when you're passing by."
"Haunted love is all that I see."
"It's there in your eyes."

Sara slides in without too much of an ado. Her dress is unchanged from her normal garb. She had never been one to celebrate this holiday. Making jest of the darkness that haunts the night felt reckless and disrespectful. The faintest hint of disapproval crosses over her face when she sees those who had partaken of pretending to be something they were not. She carefully breathed in, doing all she could to banish judgement from her face. With any luck none of the would've glimpsed her thoughts expressed through her brow.

She takes a seat quietly and begins to act as if she had always existed in the space.

Victoria hadn't really dressed for Hallow's Eve.  Her dress was more Aericel's idea, dark blue with silver shots of lightening woven in.  She had used silver on her eyebrows, and but a bit of black and silver together for her lipstick.  Not obnoxious, but striking.

She stood, staring at him, pointing at him as if to draw him in.  And mimicking him, she sang...

"No, no, no, don't pass me over,
No, no, no, don't pass me by,
See I can see good things for you and I..."

And she licked her lips.  Almost a tease.  He could tease, so could she.

Saskia was glad to see all of her friends here.  It was heartening, even if the thumping in her chest was not due to the proximity of her childhood friends.  Her hand snaked over to give Clotilde's a quick squeeze; it was difficult to see her close friend and paramour in such a similar downtrodden state.  And she would have to loved to have spoken with her in private on so many things.  Her mouth was suddenly dry; so, she slaked it with a swig of mead.  So many things she'd wanted and needed to say to her.

But now was not the time.

Her gaze passed over the small black cat.  When her hand passed close, Lizzy had hissed at her proximity.  Cats are half in the Spirit World already. the disheveled redhead mused to herself, recalling what her father ... or was it Vǫlundr ... had said, No matter.  A piece of meat from her bowl made it onto the table next the bundle of dark fur.  She'd figure out what to do about Lizzy at some point.

But now was not the time.

Looking at Mei, a nod passed to the rather austere black garb.  Black as Saskia's mood.  But that could not be helped.  Such was the burden she was carrying, it seemed.  Saskia blew an errant lock of red hair from her face and wondered if the priestess could see the conflict within her.  She probably should talk to Mei about her condition - she knew that her parents and siblings thought that she was going crazy with the hereditary Lunar Madness that ran in her family.  And perhaps that was part of it, but Saskia knew there was more.  Much more.  And Mei could likely help her to understand it better.  Mei could help.

But now not was the time.

Sara quiet gaze drew her attention and Saskia's eyes darted towards her.  Her burgundy lips parted in greeting.  And she wanted to say more, but thought better of it for the moment.

For now was not the time.

Zander's boundless energy made Saskia smile.  At least, inwardly.  She stuffed another mouthful of stew into her gullet as she watched the golden-haired bard greet Kristi and then start harmonizing with Victoria.  She'd always loved her companion's antics.  It helped to draw people out of their shells.  It'd worked on Saskia long ago.  And now as seeming to work on Victoria and Kristi.  Both had seemed distant in their own ways.  Both resistant to opening up.  She enjoyed watching Zander work, for not all magic was arcane or divinely inspired.  Some of it was purely personal.  Another mouthful of stew to try and calm the butterflies in her stomach, while she let the singing and harmonizing play out.

Her own thoughts turned to how she'd bottled everything up recently.  Deflecting her brothers.  Avoiding her parents.  Lying to herself.  The grating voice in the back of her head that seemed to be judging her every move.  Saskia felt pulled in too many directions at once.  It had to stop.  Something had to be done.

And now was that time.

Saskia took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled.  The tight grip on her spoon relaxed and she finished chewing the last mouthful of stew.  Her gaze swept over her gather companions, "I... It's good to see all of you."  Behind her haggard eyes, a glimmer of pure and genuine affection for all of her childhood friends shown through as she continued, "There's ... Here's the thi..."  The redheaded Lunite stumbled over the words a few times before, forcing herself to settle and center.  All the time, Vǫlundr's condescending glare tickled the hairs on the back of her neck.  "We need to talk." she was finally able to choke out, then swallowing hard, "There's this man, " though she knew that the Einherjar was not a mere mortal, "that needs me to do this thing.  He's ... he's following me all the time.  I ... I need all of your help."

As Saskia begins to describe her troubles, Sara is quick to scan the room. She takes note of every individual that is here are known to her. Then she rises and makes her way to the window. While she avoids being blatant about it, she looks out the front windows. Hugging the wall, she scans the surroundings taking note of all that are around. The presence of any costumes could make her scan more difficult, but it is not a challenge that she feels is beyond her. "What does this person look like?"

The touch of Saskia's hand on Clotilde, no Heska's hand brought Clotilde's fading memories to the fore, temporarily overriding Heska's. She was clearly bothered by what was going on, and needed their help it seemed with this man. What thing does he need you to do? she asked, curious.

When did he start following you? she also asked.

Kristi for the most part was focused on the kitten and didn't really even notice anything else yet as she might have partaken in the singing.  But kitten is way more important at this point.

She was also dressed up or attempted to to the best of her ability.  She was cosplaying a skin from a popular game called league of legends and although she could not pull off the multiple tails she thinks she nailed the outfit.  It takes a little while for her to refocus on the rest of the world and realizes not only that there was singing but one person was asking for help.  Also she also realized she had not ordered food yet and she was kind of hungry but that could wait.




"Whatever you need I will happily help with no questions asked."  Kris said to Saskia being completely honest and without question such as is the trusting nature that is her.

Zander is unexpectedly pleased that Victoria knows the words to the song.  No chimes and miracles needed.  Had he played it here at the inn or in the graveyard many months ago?  He is even more pleased at how flirty she acts during the song.  A most excellent development, even if it might be just part of the performance.  Oh yeah.  This, Zander could get used to.

"Give, I can give love and attention."
"Give, I can give all time away."
"Only to one heart I can give today."
"Hey hey, hey hey"

They sing the chorus together this time.

"Haunted love is all that I feel"
"when you're passing by."
"Haunted love is all that I see."
"It's there in your eyes."


When the song is over, Zander goes back to the table.  He only catches pieces of the conversation.  It sounds troubling.

"What's this I hear about a stalker?" he asks Saskia.

This creep must be a new problem.  Saskia was fine last time they met.

Mei gives Zander a 'look', was Zander... pressuring Saskia somehow?

"Zander... is certainly suspicious...  clueless even...  but... i think he's misunderstood most of the time...  Zander have you been... misbehaving again?"

It was a fair assessment of how things usually went down on Friday Night Karaoke.  The man seemed to need attention like most people needed air.

As is often the case, Zander isn't really sure what Mei is talking about, but he rolls with it.

"Always misbehaving," he says giving Mei a wink.

As he turns his attention back to Saskia the little black kitten pounces on the hand he's resting on the table and starts playfully biting and pawing his pinky finger.  It's OK.  The bites aren't breaking the skin and it's his strumming hand, not his chord hand.