Carlos
Oliver
Northwind Sea

The fiery Scribe knew exactly which buttons to press when dealing with his dearest brother, and to his amusement, a bout of emotional playtime had resulted in the exact reaction he'd been vying for.

"I don't know what you mean. Seems like I can't get 'em off of me when it's time to come back. But, ah, ah, I never said there was anything wrong with a bit of lady lovin'," He wagged his finger, "It's one of m' favorite ways to pass the time. Maybe the ocean's given you a lucky lady, but she gave me a whole harem! Son of tides, slayer of women, and definitely the prettyboy of the ocean's sons."

Oliver placed his hands beneath his chin, almost giving himself a cherubic appearance, tacking on a couple dainty eyelash flutters. 

"Really, I'm proud of my dearest Gn'th for getting himself his own, brand new lil' woman. Cheers to that. And I s'pose I can't say that I don't want that shitstack of a brother all to myself," He smirked up at Iver.
Marion
Iver Trok
Northwind Seas

Iver rolled his eyes, pushing off of the seafloor and looking up toward the surface as a whales song could be heard in the distance. "Never thought it'd be me, frankly. I know I ain't the nicest boy of the waters, believe you me, but... Even in meditation, it was impossible to get 'er out of my mind. I think... Well, Mother said when the sea calls you, it won't be silenced. I thought maybe that was it." He said a little quieter, sinking back down slowly as he just thought to himself about everything.

"I don't change, and a woman certainly wouldn't sway me. But here I am. I'm even confidin' in the *Tide* For the love of..." He shook his head and looked down at Oliver, slowly settling in a seated position beside him. "Lady in my life or not, I'll always be your *Big* Brother. And I'll always be Gn'th, Son of Oceans. You'll always have me, Ollie. Even when you don't want to." He sighed, placing a hand on Ollie's chest and patting lightly as you would with a pet.

The Whale's song drew closer and Iver laid back next to Oliver, watching as a great blue whale swam overhead, it's gigantic majesty blotting out the moon and casting a large shadow across them. "Mayhap you've got it in ya to go with me next trip to the coast, eh?"
Carlos
Oliver
Northwind Sea

Oliver took Iver's hand in his own, a ghost of a touch, and held it there lightly. His gaze ran over the massive figure of the whale, vision impressive enough to expose the tiniest ruts and tears in its hardy blubber. He sighed.

"I think the ocean has selected someone for you, Gn'th. I think it also probably has a hand in makin' you confide in the tides, too, since I'm just another part of the big works," He rolled his head toward Iver, disturbing a bit of sand, "I wouldn't pick another Iver for the life of me. And I swear on the ocean 'erself that I wouldn't grab another one of those damn Scribes to be my closest brother. Nope! Only one man for me."

Oliver's face, which had just housed a pleasant smile, faded into a dull, neutral visage. It was always obvious when he had a sobering thought, or when he simply wasn't in a sweet mood.

"I wonder if the ocean will ever pick a lady for me," He said sourly, "As many women as I've seen and had my fun with, I haven't ever found that one special lady. The one that makes m'heart beat right out of my ribs. Even when I was a wee lil' fisherman, I never found a woman that made me feel special, just the ones that get me drunk without any drink."
Marion
Iver Trok
Northwind Seas

"Oh, Ollie, don't get sappy on me. Be strong in the mind that we the ocean are provided everything we'll ever need. We'll be satisfied with even the smallest of things because our blessed creator gives us what we truly need." He said, practically quoting verbatim what their Mother always told them. He laid there with his hand on Olivers and looked up as he whale's song vibrated in his chest.

"We're different than the other ones... We didn't seek out the scribes and train for years and write till our hands hurt before we completed the ritual to become what we are. We were chosen by the ocean itself to be a part of it. Hell, I'm a scribe an' I didn't even know how to *Read* When I fell into the drink." He chuckled a little, remembering Mother and Oliver trying to teach him how to write and read and speak properly. "We cast ourselves ashore to bring back treasures to our family and we go together, a wave propelling itself on land..." 

He sighed, bringing his hand up to cast a silhouette across the moon. "Maybe you're just being sour cause the full moon makes the tide high. But I know the icean has a plan for all of us, even a prick like you. My Ollie."
Carlos
Oliver
Northwind Sea

"That's true, we are almost like... The chosen ones. Sometimes I wonder why she picked me as her charge, seeing that I was only a boy when I was reborn. I knew how to read, and write, and count, but I couldn't tell you north from south. At that time, I was just a stupid guy that felt like he was special to the ocean. And I s'pose I was."

Oliver's mind wandered on the topic of his death, which became the beginning of a new life; he found himself turning his early demise over in his head. He never really felt doubt in himself, but it began to germinate somewhere in his chest, and he couldn't quite reach into his ribs and extract it.

"The full moon does make me sour on occasion. This feels a bit different, though. I'm just bitter this evenin' and I'm not sure why. Maybe it's my teenage girl who's mad at you for grabbing some else's attention," He became more verbose when he was deep in the labriynth of his own self.
Marion
Iver Trok
Northwind Sea

Iver nodded slowly. Seven long years of only him and Oliver causing trouble and all of a sudden he's fallen in love... He could almost be mad at himself. "You're my brother, Ollie, no woman is ever going to take that away... I'll still cause mayhem with you 'til the day I die. After all, I'm going to live much longer anyway." He said casually, although what he said was quite sad. "Me an' you till the end of time. We'll be the best the scribes 'ave to offer, although you know neither of us can be Mother... We'll still have as much authority as the rest of them."

He nodded, squeezing Oliver's hand before letting go and sitting up, the sand curling around them. "Two weeks. I'll see her at sunset in two weeks. Would you like to come with me, Ollie? Meet her for yourself? Ask if she has a sister, mayhaps?"
Carlos
Oliver
Northwind Sea

"Ah, I know. There isn't another man, nor brother, and especially no other woman that will hold my heart as you do. And as much as I would like to have a woman of my own..." His voice trailed off for a fleeting moment, and he almost seemed to struggle with his words, "What about when she... Y'know... Passes away? Could I bear the death of my beloved? If I'm still alive when you die, I don't know what I'll do with myself."

His previous position, back against the sea floor, became uncomfortable. The subject he'd voiced made him uncomfortable, in part due to the fact that it was an indescribably horrible fear of his; in his languid aging, a terrible phobia surrounding mortality had formed in Oliver. Though he has many reasons about him, it was the main villain that spurred him to push others away. As he floated through the blackness of the depths, he carefully spun so he was upright. His troubling thoughts tore at his edges while he remained silent, and he found his lips moving before his brain.

"I would like to see the woman that has stolen your heart. It's not often that someone is breathtaking enough to strike Iver, Gn'th, son of the sea."
Jeremy
Kharlyle Whylder
Whylderholm

Kharlyle forgot the question that he had asked that prompted the Skagerlly boy to speak.

"Can you have sex with animals?" Kharlyle has quickly grown bored and his time was ever precious. "In front of a crowd preferably?"

Mercurio stared to the ceiling, the gods only knew what he could have possibly been thinking.
Carlos
Aleksandr Skagerlly
Whylderholm Deposit

Aleksandr brought an index to his lip, pondering the request. Would he? Such a filthy request was something he wasn't sure if he could comply with, and ever fiber of his being prayed that this was a curious inquiry rather than a genuine view of what they were going to be asking of him.

"I... Um... Preferably not, but... If I have to. If you could pay me? Such a request might hurt m-me, I hope you understand my hesitation," Aleks managed, anxiety gripping his throat, "Certainly I won't be performing such.. Erm.. Duties, right?"
Jeremy
Kharlyle Whylder
Whylderholm

"I didn't begin this transaction to ponder sexual fantasies with a pipe fitter" Kharlyle became fairly inconsiderate. "So yes, you will have to, almost certainly. About the entire being paid thing, you will be paid, handsomely." *In food and shelter Kharlyle thought to himself* Kharlyle stood up, his rickety knees cracked loudly. "But if I may say one thing of comfort, we will have an entire team working with you to do exactly what you need to. Think about it from my point of view, if you were me, would you hurt you? No, no certainly not. I have no business in torture... *Its beyond impractical*"
Carlos
Aleksandr Skagerlly
Whylderholm

"That sounds acceptable, not that I have a word in the matter. I don't have a choice, anyway, considering the fact that during my time in your gracious care, I must do whatever you request, as per the standards you're given. That includes my personal safety," He droned, repeating the sentiment of his father.

He wasn't comforted by the words, and in fact, they had quite the opposite effect on him. It reminded him of how weak he was. Aleksandr, the frail little servant, needed their highest attention to succeed in the most broad and basic vein of his work. Indeed, animals were rather far for him, but he knew that he'd certainly done worse; comparatively, some things he'd been tasked with by nobles were certainly worse. 

*Will anything tear? An animal... That could kill me, right?*