(Untitled)

[8th_castellan]

Someone stalks and tears through the corridors of Castle Salazar in an inconsolable, howling rage. He screeches curses and roars in useless anger as walls are beaten and scratched and furniture is knocked aside or thrown.

Ramon Salazar is on the war path.

Deadpool can do that to a person.

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[h_hollister]

In that two hours, she wanders, finally. Still not dressed, just with the throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders. And she wanders right into the portrait gallery, her bare feet going numb against the cold marble floor. She dances onto a carpeted area, but even that is cold.

So she's shivering as she finally stops in front of the portrait of Isobelita and Miguel Salazar, the seventh generation of castellans.

"I don't get it," she says up to them, not realizing how she might be echoing HIS conversation down below. "I just don't get it. He knows the source, he knows it's Wade! He knows it's just to get a rise out of him and he reacts anyway. Why doesn't he understand? Why can't he just ignore it? Doesn't he know how I'm trying to keep him s-safe? Doesn't he know it's just a dumb joke? Why does this happen every time? Please, please, I want him to stop this. This is going to get him hurt! I c-can't stand seeing him hurt! And then he blames me, ME! And he's right to. It's all my fault. Because I fell in love with Wade. Everything since then has just been entirely smegged up, and it's all my fault. And now it's hurting Ramon. I'M hurting Ramon. Again. And again. I'm sorry. I know how much you mean to him. I can't grasp it. I'm trying, but I can't. He's gotta relax about this or he's going to get SHOT again! And it'll be all my fault again..."

Her monologue continues in this same, repetitive vein for about the same amount of time that Ramon's down below in the catacombs.

Apparently people talking to themselves is a national pastime in Spain.

[8th_castellan]

For her, the portrait remains silent, the pair depicted in it looking passively at something beyond her seeing. For Ramon, the bones remain only as silent as he wants them to.

There are pauses in his conversation, allowances for another to answer. His words change direction, refuting or agreeing with what's been 'said'. If it isn't common knowledge by now that the castellan's mind is a fractured one, it should be. It has and always will be such, he just grows better at hiding or adapting to it at times.

But finally, the seemingly one-sided conversation tapers off, and Ramon soon stands, dusting off his legs and saying his goodbyes, explaining how he has to go back to Hippolyta now and continue this talk there. A kiss is pressed to his fingers, then to the slab with his mother's name on it. Light retreats from the silent tomb as he exists and takes the torch with him.

Shortcuts are taken, and soon, Ramon stands in the art gallery as well, though on another balcony high over where she is in front of the painting. He calls no attention to himself; he simply watches her, waiting until she looks up on her own. Or doesn't.

[h_hollister]

Her attention is too focused on the portrait. And she's gotten so out of the habit of 'looking' for his parasite that, yes, he CAN sneak up on her if he wants. So what he'll hear is, well, just as fractured in its own way.

"I know I'm not good enough for him. And if I hadn't been such a smegging easy spread, this never would have happened. We're never going to get married, are we? I'm never going to be his wife. I just know it. And it's all my fault...always my fault..."

This is the sort of thinking and talk that led to her last pseudo-suicidal crisis. Uh oh.

[8th_castellan]

He frowns only slightly more than he had already been, then leaps down to the floor she is on, landing with a muffled thump a short ways behind where she stands. When he straightens, he first smooths out his shirt, then turns and walks towards her with purposeful strides.

When they are nearly toe-to-toe, he looks up at her sternly, almost defiantly, meeting her gaze though she stands nearly a head higher than him. His eyes are a dark orange, the red still in the process draining and fading back to their usual brilliant yellow.

Then? Then he kneels. Falls to one knee, still meeting her eyes in something like a challenge. Challenging her to hold onto that love they once knew, that he knows they still have, for the link of their plaga does not lie. He can always feel it there between them; a soft, warm undercurrent that remains no matter what other emotions they are sending, or sometimes throwing, at one another. It grows stronger and weaker at various times, but it never dies.

Ramon's hand slips into his pocket and he withdraws the glittering ring.

"If you will take this, I want you to have it. I still desire you for a bride, and nothing will ever change that. You are worthy to wear this ring, Hippolyta. Your past means nothing to me, seeing that you've been so gracious in forgiving my own. Only our future matters."

And he takes her hand, gently turns it over, and places the ring in her palm.

[h_hollister]

When he lands, she spins, shutting up and blushing again. Gawd, how embarrassing. Sure, she talks to herself all the time, but this was really bad. An entire monologue.

"How much did you h-hear...?" she begins to ask, and then just gives up. She closes her eyes and turns away, mortified and humiliated and wanting to just crawl under a rock and die. So when he turns her back around, toe-to-toe, she doesn't resist, but she doesn't exactly cooperate. But at least she's opened her eyes. So his defiant look is met with something resembling utter defeat.

She's not at all happy, to say the least.

But then...but then...he kneels in front of her, presses her ring into her hand.

"...Damn it," she whispers, her fingers automatically closing around it. "If it doesn't matter, then why do you get so bent out of shape over it?" Her knuckles whiten, as well, and her mouth twists. "I don't love him, Ramon. I don't. I swear to you I don't. I don't 'long' for him. He treated me like crap and I took it. Hell, I liked it. But I don't love him anymore. I love you. I wasn't trying to defend him. I was trying to protect you."

She looks away.

"Are you sure that you still want me? Because we sure as hell haven't been acting like it the last few months."

Her fingers open up and she stares at her ring.

"I'm not happy, Ramon."

[8th_castellan]

"I know." It's a quiet acceptance of the fact. There isn't even a point in hiding it, or trying to pretend it's not there; their link never lies. They're unhappy, yes; her, especially so. But it's something that can change, but they have to want it to, make it change. He still remains kneeling, looking up at her, one hand resting on her knee.

"And...I'm sorry. To have said again that you want him. I know that's not the case, at least not in the sense that I was implying. I take back those words. I know you love me. That you want to protect me. And you do."

His hand strokes idly up and down slowly against her leg as he thinks, looks up at her face, his expression softening, his eyes continuing their transition back to their normal color. "...What can we do to change this, Hippolyta? Make you happy? What can I do? Or do you think we're..." It makes him pause in having to say this, his parasite giving a cold lurch as anger and sternness finally give way to fear, "...beyond hope? Because I don't." He adds that last part hastily.

[h_hollister]

"Well, first off, you need to stop acting like a spoiled brat," she spits at him, still not daring to meet his eyes. "Every time something's gone wrong for you in the last few months you've taken it out on me. I'm not putting up with it anymore."

There, she said it.

Then her entire face softens, and she slides downwards against the wall, until she's sitting on that cold floor with nothing but a blanket around her.

"I thought that when I got my parasite, we'd never fight again. I guess that's not in the cards, huh? I think that's part of it, too. My expectations were too high, and didn't deliver. I'm sorry."

She's still playing with her ring, not putting it on yet.

"No, we're not beyond hope. Never. I love you too much to let you go."

[8th_castellan]

"...All right." That's all he really says at the demand for him to stop acting like a brat. He supposes that's something that'll always kind of be a part of him, what with his marvelous upbringing, but she's right that he shouldn't take it out on her. Or even expect her to fix things for him.

And regarding that parasite problem...

"I think that...you put too much stock in just being able to understand or feel what the other is feeling. We can communicate with an increased sense of clarity, but we seem to either forget to use it, or wind up only making things worse with it. And there's the fact that there will always be outside forces that seem to make us fight. Every time Deadpool comes up, we eventually bicker. But..."

Ramon goes from being on one knee to sitting on the floor, just looking at Hippolyta from the short distance between them.

"...If you...ever wanted to get rid of it, I-...I mean, your parasite, I'd-...I'd understand." But even as he says it, there's a stinging surge of sorrow that expands in his breast; he feels like he just gave his blessing towards killing a child, or a family member. Thinking of how lonely and quiet it'd feel without it there anymore. But that second thought spurs him into saying his next piece.

"Don't keep it f-for my sake especially. You sacrifice enough for me as is."

[h_hollister]

"W-What?"

Her eyes go wide, and she loses her grip on the blanket. Then she grabs it close again, because it's still freezing in this gallery.

"No! I don't want to get rid of it! I like it. It's just not perfect, that's MY fault for being stupidly optimistic. I should have known we'd still fight sometimes. No, I'm keeping it!"

She feels the sorrow from him, too, and it actually makes her stop talking. Because her next sentence was going to be '...Unless you want me to.' But his feelings on the thought of the consequences of that make her shut up.

"Oh, Ramon, honey. Maybe...maybe we should get some professional help. Or at least talk to somebody. Not a professional, but a friend."

She pauses, and then giggles darkly.

"Or we could just ask the Nexus." She grins stupidly and puts on a horrible sing-song voice. "Heeeeeey, guys, Ramon and I are fiiiiighting, help us have good seeeeeex again..."

[8th_castellan]

He makes a sputtering laugh, as that kind of was unexpected. Covering his smile, he replies, "Well, to be fair, even when we don't get along and are angry with one another, it's still pretty good." Referring to that interesting tryst they had in the other room a few hours ago, natch.

He sobers eventually, adding, "You may be right, though. Maybe we even spend too much time around one another? Familiarity breeds contempt or whatever the case is." A shrug. "And we just need to talk to other people. Outside opinions or something. I don't know so much about professional help, though, sans anything S can offer us. Our case is just a little too exceptional for just any old marriage councilor to tackle."

His foot bumps into hers, gently, since she's barefoot and he's shoeclad. "I don't know, though. I just wish I knew why this was happening at all. Why there's so much tension between us now, how everything feels like it's hanging by fraying threads, and it's only so long before they snap. Why are we always so angry at one another now? I mean, really, why? I don't dislike or resent you in any way, and I hope the same can be said vice verca. I love you! But for some reason, we seem so eager to lash out, or our patience is so thin.

"I know that your disappearance is sort of what acted as the catalyst, as well as my...delicate state due to it. But just like that time during it, I still don't know what we need to fix this! I don't know what's wrong, and I don't know what to do."

[h_hollister]

"Probably because we're both incredibly messed up people who've managed to fall in love, and we have occasional lucid moments before lapsing back into our old patterns."

She bumps his foot back, and twiddles the ring in her palm with her right thumb and forefinger. It shines and flashes and glitters, almost hypnotic.

"I don't think it's 'familiarity breeding contempt', though. I mean, the last three months, we've barely been in the same house together at nights. It's like we're in this horrible long-distance relationship, and only see each other once in a while. And it's just not getting better."

She's quiet for a moment, then plunges on.

"I think it's happening because, well, we don't have any common goals right now. Before, we did. We were together against everything, hiding out and trying to stay alive and safe and together. And now that all that smeg has been solved...we're sort of at loose ends. We don't have much in the way of a project, a goal. You have your pets and your missions, and I have my pub and our business stuff, and never the twain shall meet."

Spin spin spin goes the ring.

"I lash out when I'm frustrated. And I'm incredibly frustrated right now. I need to do something important with you. Otherwise it just feels...wrong. I do love you. So much. But I don't feel very connected with you right now. Not like before."

There's another dark laugh, and she reaches out and takes his hand, finally, leaving the ring resting in her left palm.

"I guess this is my way of saying that we need excitement again. Boredom is killing us."

[8th_castellan]

"...Heh." His thumb rubs along her fingers for a moment as he mulls that over. "That seems about right. Does it have to be life-threatening, though? I think we've had our fair share of that thus far.

"While it's not nearly as exciting as, well, much of anything, one idea kind of ties in nicely with this whole fiasco. And that being furthering that research you'd started on my family tree and history." He smiles a little more when he thinks of the library, and the fact that there's a new bookkeeper there too. He'd been intending to introduce her to him ages ago, but that got derailed momentarily by how she had, you know, been suddenly and unexpectedly struck ill by something in the Nexus.

He'll bring that up later, though, and at least make sure he's with Hips the next time she wanders to the library. No need to unpleasantly surprise both of them with the arrival of a stranger. No, right now? Now is the time they talk only about them.

"Maybe we should at least plan some kind of adventure. Vacation. I don't know. A time where we can do something together, and sort of...get to know one another again."

[h_hollister]

"God, no, no life-threatening. I've had my fill of that to last me a lifetime."

The grip on his hand suddenly gets tighter, and then she surges forward toward him. The blanket falls off her shoulders, leaving her totally nude again, and she hugs him fiercely and tightly.

"More than a vacation, Ramon. More than just library work. We need something ongoing and permanent and beautiful and fantastic and us. Building a fortune together. Going sky-diving alternate Tuesdays. Dedicating our lives to Buddhism."

She leans in to his ear, her lips brushing the lobe delicately. "Protecting what's ours. Being married. Raising a family. A goal. A lifetime goal, just for you and me. Something more than just aimless wandering and promises of forever."

Finally, she sits back slightly, puts the ring back on her finger and holds it up in between their faces.

"Ramon, will you marry me? Elope with me? Tonight?"

[8th_castellan]

He's smiling, but it fades when she poses that last question. Not from anything like dismay or shock, mind. Just a moment of bafflement and surprise.

"E-Elope? How do you mean? What is it exactly-...? Oh my. Dare I even ask what entirely you have gestating in that blonde head of yours? Or more frightful still, you're still forming it as I speak!"

Ramon's smiling again as he kisses her fingers, then pulls her hand down so he can follow it up with a kiss to her lips as well. It lingers, grows momentarily more fierce, and then he sits back once more. He's feeling as though a fire's been rekindled, both inside him and between them. There's light dancing in his eyes.

"Tell me what you think you have planned, mi amor." It's only after he says those words does he realize how long it's actually been since they've called one or the other by that pet name. So he says it again. "Mi amor, my beloved."

[h_hollister]

"Mi amor. Oh, gawd, it's been so long..." It feels so good to hear that from him, especially after all this time of fits and starts to their relationship. Most especially after this fight tonight. It doesn't feel like that oft-touted 'fresh start.' This feels like something with deep roots going into flower after a hard winter.

She kisses his face, below his eyes, the tip of his nose, his cheeks, his forehead, his chin. Her hand interlaces with his again, then her left hand joins in, placing itself crosswise over his chest. Others might place a hand over their lover's heart. Hips, instead, places it over his parasite, and sings.

"I mean that tonight, we go someplace quiet, no questions asked by the locals, apply for a license, find a judge who'll marry us, and we make it official. Tonight, now, as soon as we can PINpoint there. We can have a big shindig ceremony later, with the dress and the flowers and the tux and the nineteen story cake. But tonight we get married."

[8th_castellan]

Now he's really agog, going back and forth between looking amused and surprised.

"I-...I don't know! I mean, who or what or where could we find such a thing? Someone who wouldn't think twice about who or what we are, would allow outsiders of their world to marry in theirs...A-Assuming, of course, if we do take this to another world entirely. Are you thinking back in London?"

It's exciting; scary, but exciting. He just doesn't hope that, if he agrees to this, it doesn't wind up anti-climactic.

"I mean...You don't want to steal the thunder from our actual wedding day, do you? With the ceremony, et al? Not that I don't disapprove of this notion, and part of me feels like we should stop waiting so long..." He smiles, takes his free hand to run his fingers through her hair, his Plaga singing strongly back to her own.

"How many consummations of our togetherness will we go through, hmm? First those vows we exchanged all those many months ago in the darkness of our bed, now this. Oh, Hippolyta, you marvelous, flighty thing."