-Ernest Hemingway

John wasn't sure how long the two of them stood alone in that room, contemplating and discussing ideas for how they were going to process and utilize the information Lord Brighton had just handed to them. Seras' hesitation and shyness around Moira meant that she hadn't dealt with the Paladin directly much, but she was surprisingly aware of the Warden's many personality quirks based mostly on what she had personally observed. Yet as much as that impressed John, neither of them could come up with any ideas for how to approach their next conversation beyond trying to gauge what mood Moira was in or swearing their innocence.

"I've lost a mom… an' a dad," Seras began at one point, after John had pointed out he had no idea what someone could do to approach him about his own father's absence in his life, "but if I 'ad met someone who had done the kinda things that took 'em from me… no way could I forgive 'em. No matter how long it'd been, no matter what kinda stuff they swore on that they'd changed. Some things you just don't forget, ya know? N-not that I think you're in the wrong here, though."

"Maybe it's for the best," John noted, shaking his head. "Even Tricia is on Moira's chopping block, and she didn't have the misfortune of doing anything but being born with a bit of ingrained magic."

"Well, I did also tell her at one point that I wanted to dissect her."

"…You did what?"

John would've been more surprised at the sudden appearance of another voice in the room, but it was technically still Tricia's lab, after all. The latex-coated blonde strolled in, glancing curiously at John, still sitting in front of the forgotten, mostly-empty bottle of whiskey.

"It was shortly after my last foray into one of the Order's combat zones - the last time I was 'allowed' to accompany one of the Order squadrons into the fray. I was supposed to be acting purely as a combat medic, using my drones and nanites along with my basic repertoire of healing spells to preserve as many lives as possible for the Order. They were engaging a sect of the Forgotten Legion which had recently attacked one of their APCs and stolen a very valuable enchanted item the Order had been trading for some information.

"What information I was not made privy to… but it must have been something important, because they were attempting to trade in several rare and dangerous items recently confiscated from a now-defunct guild that referred to themselves as the Tristera Sect. The Order would normally destroy such things on sight. To willingly release them into the public would require world-shattering intelligence."

"What does this have to do with you hating Moira?"

"I… the mission went awry, as so many do. During the combat my anger got the best of me. I ended up harming one of Moira's soldiers, and the artifact was not successfully recovered. Moira told me that she was furious, and I reminded her of my repeated attempts to avoid any further active-duty missions. She responded with a lecture on the importance of duty and how my abilities should be put to proper use by making the world a better place and that my personal struggles and disabilities were not to impair her efforts further. I mentioned my excessive interest in a thorough examination of the biology of a woman with no functional heart… she scoffed, told me that her heart would always belong to the Order and justice and then continued her lecture, but I could see the rage in those eyes."

"M-me too! I mean, isn't she always like tha'?" Seras asked, quirking her head. "I thought it was just part of 'er personality…"

"Well, you are a bit of an anomaly…" Tricia said with a smirk. "But that probably has far more to do with your nature. The Brighton family has always had a sore spot for Necromancy - particularly in regards to that which breaks the natural order, and creating a new sub-race of humans certainly lives up to that tenet. She most likely despises the Gorbachev blood for similar reasons, but she absolutely harbors a personal hatred for me in particular since that incident, among others."

"That… doesn't really sound like Moira," John admitted, raising an eyebrow. "I've screwed up plenty of times, even if it didn't hurt any of the Order. Moira has berated me, but she doesn't… hate me for it. You have a lot of hate for her, too - what did you call her at the meeting? Sackering whore?"

"Saccharine… and we have a far longer history. Give it time, John Newman. Now, if you don't mind, my laboratory has been inaccessible for far too long already."

"O-okay," John said, quirking an eyebrow at the abrupt dismissal. Not as if there was much he could do about it, but it felt as if Tricia were hiding something. If Moira was capable of holding the animosity she seemed to show toward Tricia over a few failed missions or mild instability, she would have probably executed John on the spot - since his confession of the true nature of his abilities, John had been anything but stable.

Storyline Quest Acquired!
Storyline: Warden and the Watcher Part 1 has begun!
Quest Objective: Learn more about the origination of the rift between Tricia and Moira.

"I feel like that more or less confirms it," John thought, fighting the urge to roll his eyes as he strode toward the door with Seras close in step.

"Master-"

"If you ask me what I'm going to do now, my answer is going to be spanking you for asking me the same question so many times. …Wait, would you like that? Between you and Lunaya, I'm going to have to come up with more original punishments. Less kinky, too."

Seras flushed the color of the blood she craved so badly, shaking her head as rapidly as possible. "N-no! I was goin' to say that if we were gonna be stayin' around 'ere for a while I'd like to go visit Etriyya. She's the only person in this place that was nice to me, an' I don' know if you're gonna end up talkin' to Moira about everything. I-I still get so nervous around 'er…"

"I can tell," John sighed. "No Moira though, unless she comes to visit me. I was going to visit that enchanter if I can find him, though. If I'm down here anyway, I should probably work on my training. You'd just be sitting around bored if you came, so… sure. I didn't realize you two were such good friends."

"Y-yeah! She was pretty 'ostile when we moved in a few days ago, but she warmed up when she talked to me while you were doin' your trainin'. I think she's really nice!"

John's eyes narrowed as he recalled the unexpected friendship. He'd only caught snapshots of it - like when they were headed to the mission at the Cabal pawn shop and were all too friendly the moment he turned his back - but there was definitely something there, something John was very intentionally left out of.

"Alright, well, have fun. If there's a naked pillow fight though, I demand an invitation!"

"Suppose you could always just order me to do tha' with one of the Nekos when we get back… Master," Seras said, winking before she turned around and ran off down the hallway. John stood for a long moment, his eye twitching at the sudden shift of the conversation's tone. How the vampiress managed to maintain an air of such innocence when she wanted to was bewildering enough, but to mix it in with such unexpected pervertedness?

"S-so she can dish it out, but she can't take it?!"

"Your abilities are quite astonishing, John Newman - are you sure you wouldn't be better off honing them with Etriyya, Moira, or one of the other talented Knights of this order?"

"I'm quite certain," John said with a nod, smiling at the humble enchanter. "I can always learn to swing a sword or cast a spell more effectively… learning how to improve my own gear is important too, though. If I tried to beat Monster Hunter by just getting better and never improving my gear, it might not be impossible, but I'd probably go through controllers like popcorn."

"I fear your metaphors are lost on me," the old man cackled, "but I won't turn down an eager student!"

When Tricia had originally called John, Seras and he had already overslept. Mixed in with several important conversations and a full eight-hour trip to his pocket world to avoid Moira's wrath, John had lost most of his day. Still, for the few hours he had left, John did his best to pour his heart and soul into the tutoring the man gave him. It rewarded him with a second level of Runecrafting but no other progress for his skills. He did manage to replicate the Rune of Disruption onto his Iron Boots and Iron Greaves though. Any magical fighters who assailed him would now be met with a wall of impenetrable ****… until they realized he had a limited number of charges. And that it wasn’t really impenetrable to anyone - himself included. Still, progress.

"Be proud of your efforts, John Newman. The proper placement and establishment of runes is a fine art in itself - most would take months to learn what you have accomplished in days. Have you been practicing on your own?"

"To be honest, I haven't had much time between being kidnapped and assigned to missions…"

"Not to worry. Enchanting is a profitable enterprise, but it's one that is difficult to practice unless someone has a benefactor to provide security and stability. Given your abilities and your enhanced rate of growth, being deployed into the field by Moira will not slow you down any more than your average mage being **** to defend home and hearth from hostile forces."

John didn't have much to say to that, so he simply continued his training and self-improvement in silence. If he had gained a level every time that someone told him how awful the Abyss was, or how innocent he was compared to the average mage, he would have been strong enough to take on the Cabal single-handedly by this point. It seemed as if every advancement of his own optimism or progress was met with a matching emphasis on negativity.

"Everyone has been infected with such pessimism, such a poor outlook on life itself. They've all seen too many horrible things go unpunished, too much terror and evil inflicted on the world with no repercussions. If it's ever within my power… if I ever have the ability, I want to right those wrongs."

But, at the end of the day, John was nothing more than a basic mage with an odd ability. The enchanter, much as he proclaimed his lack of combat prowess, was probably a near-match for John. At an Observe level of 12, he was apparently powerful enough to at least give John a run for his money, even if most of his stats ended up being invested in mental stats instead of physical. Experience and skill levels would certainly even the playing field, especially if he had ready access to his own enchanted gear.

The very thought and idea of how much John would have to alter to actually have a real influence over his surroundings was a daunting one, but he only used that to reinforce his efforts and encourage improvement. If he could create more advanced runes or imbue effects into his armor without needing constant reinforcement or restoring of charges, it would be enough of an advancement in his skills to improve his potential.

"Armor, skills, level, stats, creations… I have a lot to keep track of," John noted as he walked down the empty hallway. Fortunately the Brighton guards seemed mostly focused on the exteriors and various important facilities inside the manor itself; by walking through the least populated corridors toward his old barracks, he was able to avoid much scrutiny as he pulled Evellyn back up on his menus.

"Is there any statistic in particular you would like advance notifications of, Master Newman?" Evellyn asked, offering a gesture toward several 'reminders' she had brought up.

"No, I think my own memory will be enough for most… but if I let anything lag too far behind, don't be afraid to bring it up."

"In that case, among your current skills, Deceive is-"

"Except that one," John immediately intervened, wincing a bit.

"Skill will be disregarded for the purposes of your reminders, confirm?" Evellyn asked, quirking her head ever so slightly to the side. The virtual intelligence of his menus displayed little emotion, but John thought he imagined some disbelief in those eyes.

"…Confirm. I can always alter my preferences later, right? Either I will change this Abyss… or the Abyss will change me."

"Affirmative. In that case, I recommend pursuit of either Shadowform or White Lightning in the near future. Both are skills which have been extremely useful to you in recent engagements, but they are mana intensive and so have not seen much use. Further training would not only improve their effectiveness, but it would reinforce their presence in your mind and reduce the likelihood of you forgetting their existence in times of crisis."

"Fair enough. I'll get on that the second that… we return…"

John's words trailed off as he arrived at the doorway of his former and very temporary home, eyes locked onto the sight before him. Seras and Etriyya were both sitting on one of the beds, with a glistening light between them on Etriyya's outstretched palm. Before John could look at what it was - or even think about an Observe - the light vanished and both of them turned to see who had entered the room.

"O-Oh, it's you, M-Master!" Seras stammered, standing up quickly and bowing. "I didn't realize you were all finished yet, is it time to go back?"

"Yeah, what were-"

"I was just showing her a couple of my old schoolyard tricks with magic," Etriyya interrupted, dashing up to John and playfully wrapping an arm around his neck, bending him into a half-headlock as she grinned toward the blonde vampiress. "She seems to think magic is all doom an' gloom, ya know? Probably has somethin' ta do with her 'master' bunkin' off on his own education and constantly dragging her into pissing contests with a bunch of sick fucks."

Storyline Quest Acquired!
Storyline: Age After Beauty Part 1 has begun!
Quest Objective: Learn more about Etriyya and that dubious fucking accent and vocabulary combination. Seriously, is she Scottish? British? Irish? Even I can't tell, and I helped make those accents.

"Etriyya, where did you learn all this stuff? You said you were a bit more magical than the average Order member, but you really know a lot of things, even if some are just 'playground tricks' to you."

"Eheh," Etriyya chuckled lightly, clearing her throat. More than he had before, John noticed the shift in her tone… and the loss of her accent. She didn't even sound British like many of the Order soldiers. "Well, you know, I've been around the block a few times. Picked up what tricks I could and adapted them to work for me - magic is just another tool, you know."

"How many times can you have been around the block…?" John questioned, caught off guard by the particular wording. "I don't think you look more than mid-twenties; most of the other Order soldiers could pass for at least thirty."

"We all have our different backgrounds, lots of things we did. Some of us were coddled, some of us didn't get into magic until later… I was neither, and I'm just ahead of the game I guess! I think Morgan and Meredith are going to be back soon; best get going. They don't take kindly to me inviting guests over this late; knowing Morgan he'll fall asleep still wearing half his armor."

"Oh, you really don't think-"

John cut himself off with a shocked exclamation as blue discs formed under his legs, carrying him right out the doorway. Seras gasped and chased after him, while Etriyya just chuckled and turned toward her bed. She pulled something out from under the covers that John couldn't quite make out before he was deposited out in the hallway, barely keeping his legs under himself. The moment Seras cleared the frame, the door slammed shut behind them.

"Okay, everyone around here is keeping secrets, it's goddamn official!" John shouted, fighting the urge to pound the door in. A satisfied humming came from inside, leading John to frustratedly huff and grit his teeth for a few moments.

"M-maybe we should just head back, Master? Seems like it's gonna start getting dark soon."

John glanced around but saw no windows. The barracks were located near the back end of the manor, where the interior was more carefully guarded from prying eyes.

"You just… know that?"

"Um… vampire?" Seras pointed at herself innocently, quirking her head gently to the side.

"Right, well, let's get going then. I have something I need to practice… and I need your help."

"M-Master is so perverted…"

Seras blushed and toyed with her fingers, but the wicked look in her crimson eyes was anything but innocent. John took a long, shuddering breath as he added a half-boner to the list of his problems.

"Great. Now I'm frustrated on every level."