Well. It's been a while hasn't it?
-Statyck
/*\
Lilythae was careful.
The day had been awful. Two funerals in one week, well, it was a little much to bear. On top of that, Marhail was dead. Not only was she dead but her body had been carted off by a stranger. She hadn't been able to stop him, not with everything else that had happened.
She couldn't seem to erase the guilt for that.
Yet on top of the funerals, of Marhail's murder, it was not the last she'd see of death this day. Today was it. It had the great misfortune of being the anniversary. It had been just a little less than a year since she'd joined Illidan's forces, meaning that today had extra significance for her.
Lilythae slammed the door behind her, locking it shut. The demon hunter surveyed her room calmly. The war plans arranged on her desk. The cot she'd nearly died in. The loose stone just under the tiny wardrobe.
Deftly, the lieutenant shifted the wardrobe to the left. Just by an inch. She lifted the loose stone to find her box. A box she wasn't supposed to have.
She lifted the lid carefully. She stared at the single photograph, a corner completely singed off. Orion's smiling face. Her swollen belly. A house that was far too small but theirs. She set it aside. She held the pair of tiny baby shoes in her hand, still shiny and new. She remembered clearly the day she'd bought them. It had been a shop in Quel'Thalas, the second to last time she'd been in the city. She'd commissioned them from a friend, who not only made her a priority customer but had put special care into making the shoes. They were a one of a kind pair. No one else had any like them. They had been meant to grow with the child, designed with an absurdly sweet amount of magic. Aveera had never sold the design to anyone else, despite saying it was one of her best ones. Lilythae gently set them down, careful not to let her claws scratch the leather. She then pulled out the dress, a long white gown with a hood large enough to hide her.
Lilythae ripped off her armor, leaving it crumpled on the floor. She would have to ensure it hadn't warped later, but for now she wasn't inclined to care about something so trivial. She carefully pushed her hands through long sleeves, the silk feeling foreign on her skin. She hadn't worn it since before the Black Temple. For a while she wondered if she'd ever wear it again.
She grasped the laces at the chest and pulled them taught. Her tattoos hidden, her body covered, the demon hunter let the hood fall over her face. She summoned her portal and walked through.
The graveyard was just as she remembered it, untouched by the time that had passed. The frozen trees swayed overhead, the icicles chiming in the wind. The iron fence still stood, the stubborn weeds in the ground removed. The land was still taken care of. The sky was gray with coming snow, and the rows of headstones seemed to go on forever.
As she stepped through the gate she could feel the chill of the air wrack it's way down her spine. Truly Northrend hadn't changed at all. She passed the rows silently, solemnly. She was nearing the end of the cemetery when she finally turned.
Marina Starsong. Forever blessed by the Light and Elune.
She'd never gotten to have the life she was supposed to. Though she might have been spared the horrors of Azeroth, she'd never gotten to experience the wonders either. Lilythae's eyes were fixed on the grave, far too small. The date had burned itself into her mind, for it had been the same year, the same month, the same week. Marina had been only seven days old when the demons came. She hadn't even opened her eyes yet.
Lilythae had to force herself to look away. She might have stood staring forever, but that was when she noticed the grave next to Marina's. It seemed that something had changed after all.
Orion Starsong. Loving husband and father. Forever missed.
He was missed, missed dearly, especially now. Lilythae couldn't quite hear it, not over the shrieking north wind, but she could feel her voice keening in rage.
Orion's grave had been disturbed. Dirt, freshly dug it seemed, sat in a pile beside the gaping hole. His body was gone. As she searched her own body for her husband's magic, for reassurance, she found that it too was missing.
She stumbled away from the grave, her screaming subsiding. She glanced around frantically, in case anyone had heard her and that was when she realized it. She hadn't noticed at first, she'd been too preoccupied to. Orion's grave hadn't been the only one defiled.
There were bodies missing all over the graveyard.
/*\
Lilythae ported back to the temple. She thought about going to the Den, about talking to Feyly. Feyly would know what to say. She would know what to do.
But she couldn't do that. Part of her vows as a member of the Illidari was to let go. It was good to remember the past, but she could not live in it. Let go of the past, let go of the future, fight so that there is a future. She glared around at the confines of her room, trying to decide.
She first decided to let herself catch her breath. She used the sleeve of her robe to wipe away the stray tears. She let her complexion return to normal, the redness fading into nothing. She let her long hair fall down her shoulder, but she did not remove her hood. She suspected she knew what had happened in the graveyard, what had happened to her husband, and it made her want to be sick to her stomach.
She'd been forced to eat a demon's heart, to feel the fel sear through her body, to feel it rewrite her very being. She'd wretched blood for days, had watched the demonic nightmares for weeks. She'd thought that, if nothing else, she could never be so sick in her life again. She had been wrong. She knew she should tell someone, anyone, about what the Lich King was doing in Northrend. She knew she should warn them about the graves but who would she tell? How would she explain her knowledge? She couldn't. Not without admitting to her own folly.
She cupped her face in her hands. There was a part of her that direly wanted to portal herself back to Northrend, she had the energy. She wanted to march on Icecrown herself, to tear through the swaths of undead, to challenge the Frostmourne's champion in all her wrathful glory. In that moment she felt as though his dark power would have no choice but to pale compared to her fury.
But if even Illidan had fallen to the Princeling, then what chance did she have?
She snatched her glaive and thrust it into the wall by her desk, screaming in aggravation. She stepped back and let it sit in the stone by her wardrobe, above the little box she'd unwisely left sitting. She sighed and took the weapon from the hole. She let it fall to the floor, for the moment forgotten. She knelt and retrieved her box, full of her contraband mementos from a happier time. Her fingers trembled as she replaced the photo, the baby shoes, the broken knife that had taken Orion from her. Her brothers initials still glowed on the blade. H.B.
The life she'd worked so hard for, all in this miniscule box. The past hour of pain reared back up, and the voice whispered.
You are so sad. It purred, from deep within her mind. You should let go for a bit, relax, forget. Everyone has weak moments. Let me take command of your body for a few hours. I promise I'll take good care of it.
Lilythae didn't offer an answer. Instead she retrieved a quill from her desk and pulled at the shoulder of her dress. She dug the nub into her skin and enhanced the rune. She listened as the demon cursed, faded away, under wraps once more. She shouldn't have been so generous with her power the day before. She shouldn't have been so careless. She should have taken on those men as herself, not the metamorphized monster that she'd never learned to control.
Lilythae slumped down in her desk. She couldn't go after the Scourge. Not now. She needed to capture the keystone first. She needed to gain access to the Legion's portal, their command centers, their knowledge. It would mean nothing if she went after Arthas and the demons won the war, all because she'd let her wrath overtake her.
She could go after Arthas after she defeated Sargeras. That monster would just have to wait while she took care of more important monsters.
She sighed, not satisfied in the slightest. She wanted to kill Arthas, and she wanted to do it right then. The thought that he'd raised her husband, that Orion had become the very thing he'd fought so hard to eradicate….
Even then she might not get to go after the Scourge. It was all too possible that she wouldn't survive the attack on the Fel Hammer. She might not make it. She might not ever find out what happened to Orion, to his soul or his body.
She might die alone, sad, and ignorant. Though it was certainly selfish, that might have been the worst thought of all.
She needed a distraction. She needed release. She had kept such good control over her wants and desires up until now. She felt hollow, contaminated. Orion's mark had kept a part of her pure, a part of her that had now been corrupted by the fel. It had offered her a peace of mind that she hadn't realized she had until it was gone. Now all she could comprehend was the hollow feeling inside her chest. She couldn't bear it. She snapped.
She stood up, her mind focused on one single thing, and teleported.
Illidan had made it abundantly clear. Lilythae was welcome in his chambers. As her bare feet brushed against the softness of his rugs she looked up, prepared to explain herself. She found that he was not there. She blinked. She hadn't expected to have time for hesitation, but she shoved the thought away.
No, she had been too cowardly for far too long. The temple wasn't the greatest place to live, but it wasn't the worst either. In her grief she had denied herself any shred of happiness that had presented itself to her, rejected every opportunity. No more. Her vengeance would have to wait, but it was not a crime to enjoy her time before then.
Three days before her mission on Mardum. Three days to fully embrace who she was now. Three days to enjoy her life before it could be wrenched away from her completely. If her soul was really going to the Twisting Nether, then she may as well have fun with what time she had left beforehand.
Lilythae removed her boots and politely set them by the door. She loosened the ties on her gown, so that she could breathe just a bit easier. She removed the hood from her head, letting her hair fall down her shoulders, loose instead of confined in her normal braid.
She breathed in, taking in the power that infused the room. The large mattress, the arcane tapestries, the soft furs, none of it was foreign. She remembered a time when she herself possessed such luxuries. She looked out the window, certain nothing was looking back. Even if it was, she would be invisible from so far away. She wouldn't be punished for this. She had an open invitation.
She took a moment to muse on how quiet the room was. The rest of the temple was loud. Even when she was trying to sleep in her own room she could always hear people talking or laughing. Sometimes fighting. Illidan's chamber was silent. He wasn't there to talk to her. It was almost uncomfortable.
Lilythae pulled the sleeves down her shoulders, pushed the dress from her waist. It pooled around her feet. Slowly she removed the brassiere. The points had hardened in the chilly air. She shivered and removed her final undergarment. She threw the scant pieces of cloth aside, their landing unimportant, and strode to the bed.
She crawled up onto the mattress, laying on her side. Completely divested of her clothing Lilythae's runes glowed in the soft light, violet on her skin. Her hair covered her breasts and she had her leg hitched just so, as to protect the rest of her modesty. Her chin rested in her hand and she took a deep breath.
Now all she had to do was wait.
/*\
Feyly wandered the den, guilty. Despite everything that had happened, she felt good. Even after the last attack, Rayne had made good on his promise. He'd taken her to one of the private beds, and he'd snuggled her to sleep. No kissing, no fondling, he'd barely even spoke to her. He only said that she needed to sleep. He'd held her close and the next thing she knew it was morning. She'd been warm, and well-rested, and all around happy.
And then she'd remembered.
The funeral had gone much the same as the first one. The pyres, the vials, the speech, the crying. It had given her the strangest, most horrifying sense of déjà vu. Feyly did her best to maintain her composure, but like most everyone else it was pointless. She cried. She cried on Lilythae. She cried on Rayne. And this time it was him to escort her back to the den.
She wished it would have occurred to her to ask if Lilythae was alright. Though the demon hunter had comforted her, Lilythae had been wearing an expression on her face that Feyly had never seen before. Sorrowful, beaten down, contemplative, all at once. It had seemed that she had lost something important as well, but it hadn't even occurred to Feyly to ask. All she could do was cry for the friends she'd lost. Thirty women, all over the course of just a few days. It was a lot.
She wanted to chase down Lilythae, to make sure her friend was alright. She wanted to sleep again. Upon expressing this desire Rayne had nodded to her. He led her away from the main hall and sat her down on a chaise in a secluded little corner. He'd pulled all five layers of curtains shut, creating an opaque darkness cut only by the candle on the table. He said he'd bring her some food, something to drink, and that he'd be right back. He pulled the blanket nearby down on top of her and kissed her forehead. She nodded and laid down, waiting. She drifted off.
She'd forgotten she could still wander the Emerald Dream.
/*\
When Rayne returned to the chaise he was both surprised and relieved. Feyly was sleeping, and though he was disappointed that the tea and the pastries would be cold by the time she awoke resting was more important. He set the tray down on the table and took a seat across from her, on a different chaise.
Why did they have so many of these things? They weren't big enough for snuggling, or the things that came after. They were terribly impractical.
Rayne relaxed into the plush cushioning and exhaled. Feyly was special to him, and not just because she was the "novelty." She was bright and cheerful and kind and so many other things that didn't necessarily fit with her status as a concubine, but rather as a woman, a person. He knew what she had been, what he had once been himself. They hadn't been a part of the same pack, but he liked to think that the bond he felt he shared with her was mutual.
He'd seen one-sided attractions within the Druids of the Pack. They almost never ended well.
As he watched the quiet rise and fall of her chest, Rayne's mind wandered. When all was said and done and the Fel Hammer was taken he had a plan. It wasn't terribly dissimilar from what many of the other demon hunters had planned.
Despite the recent warfare committed against the temple, many of the Illidari were trying to keep up their morale. Just a few hours ago he'd found one of his colleagues with one of the concubines. She had been proposing. Asking if the concubine would marry her once all was said and done and the agreement had been made. If they survived, they would get their happy ending.
It was a strangely optimistic behavior for the Illidari, but then the end was near. They were beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel, and they were making their preparations for what their lives would be once they managed to capture the keystone, once they've ended the war before it began. Rayne, too, was making plans. Though he didn't quite believe that the Fel Hammer would be the end of the Legion's invasion of Azeroth, he did think that there would be quite a while between then and the actual invasion. It wasn't a bad idea to enjoy the time in between.
As he kept an eye on Feyly, ensuring she slept peacefully, that was what he found himself thinking about. Perhaps he could enjoy that stretch of time with her.
/*\
Aelelia was rather annoyed with the attention.
Ever since her return from the Black Temple the little girl had been bombarded with questions.
"What happened?"
"Did they hurt you?"
"What did you see?"
Her parents had asked her these questions a thousand times over. She'd answered a thousand times over. And they always furrowed their eyebrows in dismay. It was like she wasn't telling them what they wanted to hear, but they'd also taught her not to lie. She told the truth.
None of the people in the temple had hurt her. No one had hurt Belrii. No one had hurt Va'lyn. She wasn't sure why this question kept being asked. They had been protected there. Marhail had kept them safe and fed them good food and they fixed Belrii's hoof. It had been perfectly fine. It was like the adults didn't want to hear what she was saying, and so they kept asking her the questions to see if she would change her answer to something else, something they preferred.
But, Aelelia had been instructed never to lie. It was a lesson that had been repeated over and over to her throughout her young life. So, she didn't. It felt like ages before they stopped, and finally she was left to her own devices. As she'd expected, she'd been separated from Belrii and even Va'lyn. She couldn't even talk to Va'lyn, but she still missed her. She wondered if the night elf was okay. Though Aelelia was annoyed with her own parents, Va'lyn didn't have hers anymore. There was no one to dote over her minimal wounds, no one to ask her the same question for an hour. It must be lonely.
As the little girl sat on her bed in Scryer's Tier, she sighed petulantly. She stared out the window, at the rain and the trees. Her juice had gotten warm, so she left it on the night table next to her light. She was getting bored, and there wasn't much for her to do. Sure, she could play a board game against herself, or read one of her fun adventure novels, but she didn't want to focus on any of those things right now. She wanted to see her friends. She wanted to know what they'd said to the grown-ups.
More than anything, she just wanted to know if she could still be Belrii's friend. Belrii was all Aelelia had. If her parents got any stricter then Aelelia wanted to at least be able to say goodbye.
There was a slight knock on the door and her father peeked in. He beckoned her over.
"Aelelia, come here. There's something we want to tell you."
Nervous, the little girl followed. It was almost never good news when her parents talked like that, in that quietly careful tone. It was like they didn't want to hurt her feelings when they hadn't said anything hurtful. The last time her father had used that tone her grandmother had died. She wasn't interested in anything like that.
However, that didn't appear to be the case. Belrii and her parents were sitting in the living room, looking direly uncomfortable. They were obviously tense, sipping their coffee curtly and obviously having to try to be polite. Except for Belrii of course. She was always nice. Aelelia stared at them, and then at her parents. Belrii had never been allowed in her house before. The one time she'd asked, her mother had looked like she was going to explode.
First, her parents apologized to her. They apologized for forbidding her to befriend Belrii. It was their prejudices that had lead to the two sneaking around to play, their prejudices that caused the two of them to be captured. Then Belrii's parents apologized for the same reason. She was no longer forbidden from her friendship.
As happy as this made her, Aelelia had one final concern, something she couldn't quite get off her mind. She thanked Belrii's parents for understanding, for not blaming her, then she turned to her own parents.
"Mama, Papa, thank you. Thank you for not blaming her for what happened, and thank you for not being mad at me, but…" she wasn't sure how to phrase the question.
"What is it Aelelia? Go on, finish what you were saying." Her mother gently encouraged, crouching down and pushing the hair out of her face.
"What's going to happen to Va'lyn? Her family is gone. They were killed in the demon camp." Her gaze flicked to the floor. "We saw it happen."
/*\
When Illidan made to return to his chamber he was angry. He was angry because he'd forgotten. He'd wanted to go down to the springs and he'd ordered the guard to bring Marhail. He had things he wanted to talk to her about, and only when the guard made that expression did he remember. Embarrassed and ashamed, he asked for Helia instead. His afternoon hadn't recovered.
Yet when he entered his bedroom he couldn't help but raise his eyebrows. He'd had to do a double take, certain he hadn't seen what he thought he'd seen. Of all the things he'd come to expect of the people in his temple, the kinds of stunts they might pull, he had never thought to anticipate something quite like this.
There she was, Lilythae, laying on his bed. Not only was she laying on his bed, but she was stark naked. He could see the faint glow of her clothes scattered on the floor. She was laying on her side, her arm awry. Judging by her lack of greeting and the even rise and fall of her bared chest he assumed she was sleeping.
She had intended to sate his desires, had come to seduce him. At least, that's what he assumed had happened. There was no sign that anyone else had entered his chambers, and she was the only person with permission to bypass his wards. No one else could have gotten in. There was no other explanation, but all the same he couldn't ask. It would seem he'd taken too long to get back. She'd grown bored of waiting and had fallen asleep on his bed. Naturally from anyone else this would have infuriated him to no end. The offender would have been thrown out on the spot, if not killed. Even Kalyne would have never had the audacity to try this, though he was certain it had crossed her mind once or twice.
Yet given Lilythae's skittish nature, he wasn't about to object if she'd decided to be brave with her affections.
Illidan decided to take advantage of the moment. Lightly his finger traced along her side. Though he could feel the goosebumps on her skin, he also felt the thrumming energy of the runes. He felt a scar from a wound he'd been there to see. A deep gash from a felguard blade, a wound requiring stitches. The scar was so thin, he initially thought he'd been mistaken. Perhaps not.
He trailed further down to her hip. He could see faint lines on the skin, lacking slightly in mana, but he couldn't feel them. Stretch marks. From growth or giving birth he wasn't sure, but it hardly mattered.
He could look all he wanted, but until she woke up it was rather inappropriate for him to touch. Reluctant though he was, he enjoyed the moments when he could touch her, he moved his fingers from her skin and took hold of one of the pelts that adorned his bed. He laid it over her chilled body and turned away. He removed his ponytail, letting his hair fall down his shoulders and relieving the "hairdo headache" as his harem liked to call it. He took a piece of parchment from the drawer and retrieved a pen. He rather liked the pen. It had been specially made to accommodate his claws, and as the writing utensil skittered across the paper he couldn't help but recall the first time he'd tried to write after Sargeras took his eyes.
He'd felt like a blind monkey, unable to see the letters, unable to use the tool without breaking it beneath his claws. It had been without a doubt one of the most humiliating experiences of his life, even next to his ten-thousand-year imprisonment. It had given him the most uncomfortable feeling of vulnerability, when the people around him saw the trouble he had just to write.
Thankfully, it was no longer an issue. He finished the note and approached the door. He passed it off to an imp, instructing it to deliver the note to its destination. Sighing, he sat back down on his chair and stared at the woman in his bed. Though he contemplated his potential choices, he knew there was only one acceptable option for him.
It was his turn to wait.
/*\
When Lilythae awoke she found that she was warm. Very warm, and comfortable, though it felt like her arm had fallen asleep. She was laying in the bed, covered with a pelt. She rolled over to get more comfortable, to settle back into sleep, but a voice rang out.
"I see you're awake now." It said, soft and lulling and just the faintest bit curious. That was when Lilythae remembered.
She'd come to seduce Illidan, and she had fallen asleep. Asleep.
She briefly considered teleporting away in her mortification. So much for her sexy plans. Who falls asleep at a time like that?! Her, apparently.
Slowly Lilythae sat up, shoving down her embarrassment and holding the pelt close so she wouldn't have to forfeit its warmth. She hadn't realized just how cold Illidan's bedroom was. She stared at him evenly, as calmly as she could.
He was staring back, sitting backwards in his chair. His hair fell over his face, but she could see the fel glow of his eyes as he scrutinized her. He didn't look angry, which she thanked the Light for, but he did look puzzled. He wanted an explanation and, in this instance, she wasn't quite sure what to say.
"This did not go as planned." She murmured, averting her gaze. She'd never really taken the time to study her feet before. Her toes had gained claws when she'd become Illidari, just like her fingertips. As she looked at them she couldn't help but wonder how her things stayed intact. Her boots, her blankets, all of them. It made for an excellent, though momentary, distraction.
"Then tell me Lieutenant Bloodbringer," Illidan said, his voice maintaining its quiet timbre, "what, exactly, did you have planned?"
Lilythae let her gaze shoot back up, meeting his and gauging his thoughts. His face was perfectly schooled into neutrality, his loose hair entirely unhelpful in the matter. He was hiding, but whether it was because he was nervous or something else, she didn't know.
"Well, to be perfectly honest and somewhat hypocritical," she admitted, "I came here to seduce you."
"It isn't often that people acknowledge their own hypocrisy." He said, tapping his finger on the chair.
"I've always believed that people should own up to their flaws." She explained simply.
"Why now, Lilythae?" He asked, raising his head just slightly. "Why is it that now you want me? What changed?"
Lilythae got the feeling that she needed to be extremely careful here. She was nearly as powerful as Illidan. Nearly. Not quite as equal as she would like to believe. It had never occurred to her that this encounter could end with anything other than a passionate night in bed. Given his persistence, she hadn't thought to expect that he might want some sort of explanation from her. It made sense when she thought about it.
"I'm tired of letting myself be unhappy." She said. "I couldn't force myself to not want you. In three days, I will either stop the Legion or I will die. Any other possibility is too unlikely to be worth considering. I don't want to waste the time I have left feeling sorry for myself."
For a moment everything was silent. Illidan considered her, obviously thinking very hard about something. Probably the fact that he had found her asleep and naked in his bed. Not an unlikely guess, she'd wager. Light, she was foolish.
Slowly he stood up, not taking his eyes off her. He walked over to her, the hooves offering a near silent thud as he took each deliberate step towards her. Though it could be her own apprehension that made it seem deliberate. He knelt on the bed and slowly, carefully, he took hold of the pelt around her body. He made sure she could see him.
He tugged on it, pulling it away from her. As soon as her fingers released the fur he tossed it away in the direction of her clothes. Lilythae hadn't felt this vulnerable since she'd joined Illidari ranks. Here she was, bared before him. As she felt his hand snake up her thigh she knew that it was far too late to turn back. She had committed to this encounter, with not only her actions but her words. Admittedly, she was afraid. She had no idea what to expect from him. He could be rough, he might be gentle. He was unpredictable enough that she had no way of telling. She didn't like it when she couldn't at least guess what to expect.
His hands gripped her waist and he slid her back across the covers before finally laying her down, her head landing on his pillows. He covered her body with his own and she was acutely aware of the fact that his leathers were the only thing separating the two of them. She wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him kiss her. She toyed with his hair as he touched her, hitched her leg up over his hips as he pressed against her. She rather enjoyed the fact that she was still warm, his heat combating the cold air.
She felt his teeth nip at her skin, blunt like before. She asked about it. He said he was suppressing his demonic power. He told her that he had no interest in hurting her.
"That's good," she murmured, her lips at his ear, "because then I'd have to hurt you back."
"Do you think you're capable of hurting me?" He asked, sounding almost amused. He bit down on her neck. She tensed up and grimaced. Grabbing hold of his hips with her knees, she rolled them over and straddled him. She leaned down.
"I think you should be more hesitant to underestimate your adversaries." She whispered.
"Do you consider me an enemy then?" He asked, nuzzling into her neck.
"I think that, like many other things, this is a competition of sorts."
"Oh?"
"When in bed with someone new," she explained, running her hands down his chest, "you learn about them. You learn what they like, what they don't like, and perhaps most importantly, you learn who has control."
"I'm not interested in relinquishing control." He said. Lilythae blinked, but he didn't seem sincere. His expression spoke of lust, but it also suggested curiosity, anticipation. He didn't seem set in his domineering desire, but he would be happy to behave as such if she let him. That she understood.
"Then perhaps, we will just have to see which of us is stronger." She said.
He laughed and let his power flare. She could feel his mana engulfing her, holding her in a bubble, moving along her flesh. She huffed and returned the gesture. She let her power stifle him, push him back. She let him know that she would not be easy to conquer, that if he wanted his dominance he would have to fight for it. The widened eyes, the excited grin, he seemed to like the prospect of fighting for it.
He seemed to purr and bucked his hips, making her gasp and taking the opportunity to get her on her back once more. His claws nicked her skin, holding her in place and refusing to let go.
If this was how the night was going to go, then Lilythae wondered if she should be ready to find a healer come morning.
/*\
Well would you look at that. They're gonna do it. The thing you've all been waiting for! In all sincerity. I'm an adult. I should be able to say the word "sex."
-Statyck