They'd called in Gilean to help, but Mirin was too focused on the sheer strain her body was enduring to realize her dad was peeking at her undercarriage. Though she'd been calmed and had a great deal of the raw pain taken away, Mirin still had to focus when the contractions came. She had no time to talk, no time to think. Her body was on autopilot and she a mere slave to its whims.
In less than thirty minutes, Mirin and Orn were staring dumbfounded ino two scrunched, red, and disgruntled little faces - a boy and a girl - while Gilean looked on with pride. A newly arrived Sanria flew about the room like a twittering bird, perching first on Orn, then Mirin to look at the tiny works of art.
Only when the babies opened their mouths to cry in unison did the full weight of the situation finally hit Mirin. No one was going to come carry the babies away - these were hers. She was to feed them, tend them, care for them, protect them, and love them... she and Orn.
Sanria and Gilean gone, the twins sleeping between them, Mirin looked at Orn and saw on his face absolute love. She felt a warmth in her heart as she realized this family was her own. They were the new Stones. 'We still need to name them,' she telepathed. "Well... I was hoping we could name the boy Reggie..."
Mirin thought back to all the time spent with Orn's bear, all the times Reggie the bear had teased about Orn and Mirin making cubs. He'd never see the perfection of that truth. 'Reggie and Regina,' she telepathed.
"Both Reggie?" Orn asked with a grin.
'I think Reggie would like knowing he had two cubs with his name.'
"Yeah... he would."
New Arrivals
The day the twins came into the world had been, up to their arrival, fairly normal for Mirin. She slept in the inn room she and Orn called home, lost in a fog of tired exhaustion. The pair of tiny magical bodies in her belly pulled the energy from her and the more they grew, the more rest she needed. From all appearances, she wasn't pregnant with twins. Mirin looked like any other pregnant lady, which spoke to the small size of the infants within. Though she'd anticipated being huge, she had been fortunate to get the esper-sized infants; small and magical.
Even though the twin's arrival was inevitable, Mirin still did not believe it would happen to her. She hadn't been ready to become a mother before and she still wasn't. There was nothing in the room to suggest babies were on their way - no clothes, no cribs, no discussion of names. So it was when the cramping began, then the slow spread of stomach muscles tightening until they felt like stone and Mirin burned with an unfamiliar pain. She knew but she didn't - all the signs were alight, she wasn't positive she wanted to see them.
'Orn,' Mirin called. 'I need your help.' Her husband showed up looking her over with the same untrained birthing eyes as every first time father. Oblivious.
"You look like you're about to puke, do you need a bucket?"
'I think they're coming...'
"Who's coming?"
'The babies.'
"The..." And Mirin watched Orn's face pale.
Even though the twin's arrival was inevitable, Mirin still did not believe it would happen to her. She hadn't been ready to become a mother before and she still wasn't. There was nothing in the room to suggest babies were on their way - no clothes, no cribs, no discussion of names. So it was when the cramping began, then the slow spread of stomach muscles tightening until they felt like stone and Mirin burned with an unfamiliar pain. She knew but she didn't - all the signs were alight, she wasn't positive she wanted to see them.
'Orn,' Mirin called. 'I need your help.' Her husband showed up looking her over with the same untrained birthing eyes as every first time father. Oblivious.
"You look like you're about to puke, do you need a bucket?"
'I think they're coming...'
"Who's coming?"
'The babies.'
"The..." And Mirin watched Orn's face pale.
Current Character Description - Zeratul
Before you stands a frail little dying young man. The creature is laying on the corner for some silver or gold. His glowing white eyes pierce your soul as you look into them. As you give him some silver from your bag you notice theres a token in there. You peer at him one last time as he stands up at least 5ft tall. Pieces of flesh falling off him as he stands you notice his black hair he throws on his cape over his head as he whispers something to you. "The end is near never fear.For death will rise again"
Current Character Description - Serpiente
Serpiente was once programmed to do the bidding for the Church of Strife. After the fall of Strife, with no purpose, he intentionally deactivated himself... Until he was found yet again and reprogrammed by the leaders of Long Death. Now, as a mindless servant to the hierarchy of Long Death he has found a new purpose in his mechanical life... To inflict the most pain to sentient lifeforms as possible.
Current Character Description - Imitidoras Idrissa
Imitidoras stands a mere three feet tall, but does not seem intimidated by the taller folk, on the contrary he looks around with an experts eye, trying to find an easy mark, someone to quench his unfathomable thirst. He is paler then most Halflings, but not deathly pale like many lich, a playful yet mischievious grin plays upon his thin lips.
Current Character Description - Rosso Aposso
Standing before you is a Podrikev, about 7 Feet tall, with eyes as blue as the sky. Looking like nothing more than a commoner. Equiped with nothing more than average equipent. What you see may not always be what it really is. Its not what is on the out side, but what is within. In side this body is, hate, thurst for power, death, murder. And for everyone who does not follow the might Lord to suffer.
Crossing Lines, Honoring Promises
How do you tell someone that you love, that you love someone else more? Do you? Do you admit that the feelings you experience with this person are less intense than the feelings you experience with the other? Do you tell this person that they seem to be passive in their expressions of love, and the other breaks down walls to wrap you in the fortress of their arms? No. You do not. You look at their back as it is turned to you and you deal with the hot flush of shame and guilt in the act of admitting you did them wrong.
You watch them curl up into a ball as they endure the pain that they've felt before from previous relationships. You watch as they crumble with the idea that they are just doomed to failure with love. When they ask you if you are going to stay, ask you if you are going to be there, you say that you will because its a way to stop the gnawing ache in the middle of your chest that reminds you of all the times you were a horrible person to those you love.
When the ache doesn't vanish, and you hesitate on your words, and your lover turns to you desperate for answers, you admit perhaps life would be better without you in it. It would. But then you feel the sting of such selfish words, and you watch the other person clinging with hope that you didn't mean what you meant. You remember that isn't an option.
You watch the passive one relinquish the gentler side, pull you in to an embrace and wrap you warmly in a cloak of loving desperation. You listen to the words as they tell you where you belong, how you will honor those promises made, how you must ensure that no more lines are crossed. How that other person that made you breathless must be at the end of your fighting words. How you will never be alone with that person again.
You relent. You've made promises. You have people depending on you. Here you are safe. Here you are wanted and loved. Here you will stay or drive loved ones to despair. You look at your passive lover. You say yes. You kiss. You cuddle. You fall asleep and watch the dreams covered in sin march before your mind with living colors, and when you wake, you do your best to forget them.
You watch them curl up into a ball as they endure the pain that they've felt before from previous relationships. You watch as they crumble with the idea that they are just doomed to failure with love. When they ask you if you are going to stay, ask you if you are going to be there, you say that you will because its a way to stop the gnawing ache in the middle of your chest that reminds you of all the times you were a horrible person to those you love.
When the ache doesn't vanish, and you hesitate on your words, and your lover turns to you desperate for answers, you admit perhaps life would be better without you in it. It would. But then you feel the sting of such selfish words, and you watch the other person clinging with hope that you didn't mean what you meant. You remember that isn't an option.
You watch the passive one relinquish the gentler side, pull you in to an embrace and wrap you warmly in a cloak of loving desperation. You listen to the words as they tell you where you belong, how you will honor those promises made, how you must ensure that no more lines are crossed. How that other person that made you breathless must be at the end of your fighting words. How you will never be alone with that person again.
You relent. You've made promises. You have people depending on you. Here you are safe. Here you are wanted and loved. Here you will stay or drive loved ones to despair. You look at your passive lover. You say yes. You kiss. You cuddle. You fall asleep and watch the dreams covered in sin march before your mind with living colors, and when you wake, you do your best to forget them.
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