<span style="font-size: 12px">At some point, Taiga had made a list of sorts in hope of better articulating her most recent scheme.  It had been <i>too long</i> since her last visit to Valesport, which meant it had been too long since her last check-in with her long-time beau. It wasn’t uncommon, of course. Duty had a bad habit of coming between wants and desires, and though Taiga had very little want or desire outside what dynamic she shared with Aisling, she was left with the overwhelming sense of duty tied to her namesake. The Arden never had a say in their lives. Instead, as was a tradition (and an ever-nagging obligation), Taiga’s life revolved around the comings and goings of one Nic Morandori. <br/>
<br/>
Now, her list wasn’t terribly elaborate. It was just enough to get the point across.<br/>
<br/>
</span><br/><span style="font-family:Handlee"><span style="font-size: 12px">Pros: <br/>
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- Couples have kids. It’s totally normal!<br/>
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- Fae are way easier to manage than adopted babies!<br/>
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- They have your hair, so how can you not like them?<br/>
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- Only one of them is a klepto!<br/>
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- &lt;something scribbled out&gt;<br/>
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- I love you! They will too!<br/>
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Cons:<br/>
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- You didn’t get to watch them grow up, but that’s okay because it only took me like a day to make them.<br/>
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- You have a life and don’t want to be dragged down by kids, but it’s okay because these are adults!<br/>
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- You might not like them… which is also okay because they’ll fuck off if you don’t.<br/>
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- &lt;smudged&gt; could possibly want to adopt in the future. Don’t worry! They’re the perfect live-in babysitters!<br/>
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- &lt;something scribbled out&gt;<br/>
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- Caspian was <b>mad</b>.</span></span><br/><span style="font-size: 12px"><br/>
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Studying the jumble of chicken scratch, she went over it several times to ensure she didn’t fuck it up, then grabbed her keys from the rack and headed out. Taking the stairwell, she skipped half the steps on the way to the ground floor and jogged past the usual collection of the derelict and depressing. Taiga didn’t live comfortably. If anything, she lived like half her junkie neighbors did, only without the sweet escape of poison in her veins. They got to nod off and crank out while she had to run, jump and fly across the world to make sure she didn’t lose Nic while he was on a hunt. He was the Carmen San Diego of her life, globetrotting to break countless laws for the greater good… or so she tried to explain to Aisling on previous occasions. Nic being a contract killer was glossed over for the time being.<br/>
<br/>
Knowing the truth would only make her worry.<br/>
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That, and Aisling <i>knew</i> what was to come before it had come, and that was an assuring way of reminding Taiga that nothing got past her partner. Glimpses, visions, prophecies and some sort of future sight all made it near impossible to keep secrets, though, to Taiga’s credit, she rarely had reason to. Even this grand scheme was nothing more than a belated present. Completely harmless and totally <i>not weird</i>. Well… Not as weird as it could have been. <br/>
<br/>
Reaching the parking garage, Taiga slipped over the seat of her motorcycle and started it up with a rumble of smoke-belching antiquity. Her bike was a classic - she doubted anyone could argue that. Every so often, someone would steal it, but that was taken care of as quickly as Taiga could pop to Paris and back. These kinds of issues tended to sort themselves out before she even had a chance to get angry. After all, when you dump a would-be thief in a foreign country without any lines of communication or money to spend, they rarely bother you again. After several years of this, she was the reason a small English speaking town in the French countryside existed. The name? <br/>
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New Valesport.<br/>
<br/>
For all the flashiness associated with riding a motorcycle, it would’ve been quicker and cheaper to just teleport. Fae often took for granted their abilities, favoring human methods of just about everything because it really brought to light how short-lived humanity was. How could humans spend so much time at work? How could they stomach living 70 or so years just to throw 40 of them away for the sake of being responsible adults? Their society was a joke. Getting rich after a lifetime of work? The biggest joke. Old humans couldn’t appreciate their accumulated wealth and their children would waste it. Taiga would never know what that was like. She sort of existed with every intention of always existing. It was, in some small way, a rather boring way of looking at immortality. To exist only because she could. <br/>
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Meeting Aisling had made her existence more reasonable. Were Taiga a smarter woman, she would have the words to explain how she felt, but she usually defaulted to ‘I love you’ and hoped that carried the weight it needed to.<br/>
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She arrived unceremoniously, parking her bike against the wall of the neighboring alley. Her hair was a mess of mauve waves, looking extra unmanaged thanks to the trip. Aisling would probably scold her for sleeping on her hair while it was wet, but sometimes napping had to come before beauty. She wore a wife beater and a pair of denim jeans that were probably older than Aisling. Rings on her fingers were only there to distract from the tattoos that crawled from her shoulders to her knuckles. Some were more significant than others, but she had a chibi slice of pizza on her inner left bicep and that probably didn’t need to be there. She glanced over it briefly and simply <i><i>willed it away </i></i>because - as a Fae - it was her body and she could do with it as she pleased… mostly.<br/>
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Shaking out her purple locks, she tried her very best to look presentable as she made for the door. Her boots weren’t anywhere near as fashionable as Aisling's were. Honestly, they looked like she had stripped them off a worker at a sawmill. Taiga didn’t seem to notice her disheveled appearance. It was how she always looked, give or take. Pocketing one hand, she slipped across the threshold, fiddling with her note while trying to decide just what she was intending to say to the woman in the bar. A familiar sense of longing grew as she approached, filling her chest with a sense of… pride? No. Something else. Adoration, perhaps. Something strong.<br/>
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“Of all the dive bars in this fuckin’ town, I knew you’d be in this one.”</span><br/><i><i><a class="username" data-user-id="4085" data-username="@megs" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/4085/">@megs</a> <br/>
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