Back in the clothing vault
Frustrated with the dress' refusal to cooperate, you finally decide you could use some assistance. Not worrying overly much about modesty (You cover the essentials with a randomly-grabbed outfit, but you don't bother to get dressed properly. You'd just have to take it off again to get the dress of delight on anyway), you peek out and say, "I could use some help getting this on."
Your response is silence, and then you remember how they scattered from the light. So you shrug, toss aside the modesty-covering whatever, and -carefully!- bring out the dress and close the door with your foot.
For a moment you just have dozens of red eyes staring out from the darkness, but then they boil forth, the dress pulled out of your hands -you startle and let go reflexively, not wanting to tear it worse- and after a moment where you're left wondering if they just made off with the thing, you feel it being lowered onto you. It takes some doing to work your arms in the sleeves and there's some rather violent motion involved in first getting the bodice pulled apart enough to actually fit around you, but compared to when you were trying to handle it yourself this is a breeze. If a bit tight.
It also involves bug-people intermittently crawling on you, but you're okay with that.
Once everything is in place, you give a regal-ish nod to the mass of eyes clustered in one corner. "Thank you, little ones."
After a pause, you remember what the original point of all this is, and say, "Lead on to the dining hall, then?"
They comply with no hesitation, and you follow, growing increasingly comfortable walking blindly through these dark halls.
--------------------------------
When Caras was confused as to why you changed clothes
"Virmire said I had to be dressed appropriately." You nod in Virmire's direction. Probably.
Caras' face tilts in the same direction, so you must've got it right. "E͔̭̪̞̟͙̓ẖ̮̯̺͚̲̈ͭ̂ͅ?̲̤͍̼͔̻͑̽ͯ ̣̠̤͈̻̗̮ͭ̾̆ͪͮ̽ͅW͉̩͖̪̗̝̤̬͐̓̍͐͆̃ͅh̭̙ͩ̑͑̍̋̃́y͉̱̹̞̺ͦͥͦ̔́ ̺̰͎̫͇̹̹ͧ̊̉ͦ̄̚d̯̰̥̗͍̊̃͊͗̇̈́̿̈́ͯi̱̝̥̘̫̬̅͒͛͛ͤd͖̖̩͕̳̗ͫͤͫ̄ͅ ̖̱̗̳̤̊ͬ͆ͪ̇̽y̲̺ͨ͑̒̎͋ͪ̚o͈̣̊̒͒̎̈̓ṳ̤̭̖͓͖͉́͗ͪ̒ͣ̅ ͕̠̣̰̖̎̀̃͐̚t̹͔̟̘̥͙̒̓̆͂̂̂ͅḛ̙͙̗̃͐͊l̬̩̪̳̪ͤ̆̔͂͋ͥ̚ḻ̮̖̖ͬ̾͗̌ͩ͆̆ͨ ̹̝̓ͤ̅̽ḭ̻̰̖̯ͪͩ͛ͅt̺͖̯̖͉ͥ̽͋̾̚ ͈͔̪͎̮̼͖̖̣̋̈́͛̂ͭ͋ͪ̒̋t̝͚̦͓͔̪̹͉ͧͨh̻̫ͤ͛̔̑ͨ͛̊̾a̤͔̹̹̤ͬ̂̌͐ͦt̰͒̀ͥͤ͐͂̓̑?̗͆̆̍̀̌ͥ̑"
"I͘-̡ ̡we͞l̷l, h͠u͞ma͞n̨s we̛a̛r f̸oŗma̵lwear҉ at f̡o͏r̸m̷a̸l d̷iǹn̶er̸s̕.̛ Right̡?" Virmire's glowing eyes swing your way, and you get the distinct impression he's hoping you'll save him.
[]"I wouldn't know," you say innocently. You're but a humble peasant girl, after all. For the moment.
[]"But I'm the only human here, and neither of you cares, right?" you point out quite reasonably.
[]"I like dressing nice," you say, with a nod toward Virmire. Which doesn't actually affirm his words, mind.
[]"That's my understanding," you say in the manner of simple fact. There's nothing else to add to that, really.
[]"Is this a formal dinner?" you say, curious. It doesn't seem much like one.
[]"Not usually these days." You're no historian, but you do know it's uncommon these days. As a little girl you actually thought it was purely the realm of fairy tale, actually.
-------------------------------------
Once Sabrina sits down -yes, in an actual chair- and finds that her food is alive and seems to be worms
Well, if Caras can eat it, so can you.
After taking a moment to check for utensils -there are none, saving you from having to worry about committing a faux pas by using the wrong utensil the wrong way- you dig in without commentary. It's surprisingly good! Mostly. And only some of it is worms: most of it seems to be some kind of vegetable mush, with a side of a sharply curved bowl filled with some kind of crawly bug that apparently can't climb out of so steep a bowl. It's practically a jar, really. The vegetable mush is bland, and a nuisance to eat with your hands -you have no idea how Virmire and Caras manage at all- and eventually you get tired of the queasy feeling produced by having a still-living thing go down your gullet and begin to very deliberately crush, snap, or otherwise kill your meals before they go in your mouth, but the worms and bugs taste surprisingly good. You're reminded of when your family slaughtered one of their cows, or the occasional veal brought in by the village hunters, only crunchy. So: actually delicious, if a bit odd. There's a few other things mixed in you don't even know how to describe, of which one vaguely shield-shaped thing produces a hideous burning sensation to the touch. You avoid that part of the table afterward, though thankfully your hand doesn't take long to stop bothering you.
Virmire and Caras are carrying on a conversation in between, erm, slurping? It's certainly not chewing. The full details are a bit beyond you, but you follow most of it well enough. There are three other barons whose lands border on Caras' -one Baron of Shifting Sands, one Baron of Freewheeling Raptors, and one Baron of Subterran Maggots- whom normally keep to themselves, but Shifting Sands has lately begun construction of a fort a little too close to the shared border, such that Caras suspects 'the stripling' expects to be able to simply take away some of Caras' territory without a fight. Caras' territory also borders with what he calls
w̰͉̌̈́̒͋r̗͇̯̖͖̠̪̓̄̀e̬̣͈̯̳͖͔̮͐̂̐̊͋ͅt͍̼͖͉͎͂̅̈́ͥc̩̩̼ͬͪͩ̃ͬ̊h̳̤͙̮͕̯͎͇ͬ̋̉͐̍e̞͎̭̬̞͔ͭ͂͋d̗͋ ̟̝̠͈̟̬̍̿b̦̪̥̌ͫ̓u̻̥̩̞̯̭͈͑̆ͮ͆̎͊ͤr̠̟̅̽ͩͮ̔n̞͐̾̿e̫̖̠̯͈̦͉̭̥͗̊̿͂r͓̬͚͇̙̤̙̽͛̎ͩͫ̃ͩ̚s̹͊
You are given to believe, from the ensuing rant, that Caras' primary duty to The Council is to keep 'wretched burners' out of the country, which he's apparently rather bitter about, as the Council has forbidden all but 'a few trusted exceptions' to recruit human soldiers, on pain of death. Caras intends, this very night, to perform a raid on a burner encampment he discovered last night, not long before dawn. He expresses frustration that they will have likely done harm to one of his vassal villages in daylight hours, and possibly will have outright left the country already, beyond Caras' reach.
By contrast, the Barons Freewheeling Raptors and Subterran Maggots are apparently concerned with 'internal affairs, primarily', and Caras finds it galling that the Council would trust Freewheeling Raptors enough for them to qualify as one of the exceptions on the 'no human soldiers' rule. Virmire's response -"Y͏ou҉'̵v̸e ̶şaid,͘ sir̢e̢,͠ ̨ye̛s."- makes it clear this is a rather longstanding issue. You're unclear exactly why it bothers Caras so, though.
They also speak some about a journey in two weeks time to trade 'cores' with one 'Viscount of Dire Hollows', which becomes interrupted when-
"No, sir̵e͜.͏ ̷T͜ha̕t wil͞l n͞ó lon̕ger͠ be̢ my ̵d͠u̕t͠y no̢w ̀t͡h͠at,҉ e͝h͠,͝ ̵Mis͘s ̕S̕a̢b͡r͞i̕na is here͟.҉ I'̛v͡e͏ ͝beȩn o̢ve̵r t̴h̀i̵s.́"
Caras' gaze swings to you, and you have the distinct impression he'd quite forgotten about you.
"O͔̠ͪ͆͋̆̏h̪̝͕̜̓ͧͣ.͕̥̣͇̦̳̪͒ͤ̓́ͨ ̜͈̜̠̟̰͉̇͒͗ͤ̒ͯŘ͈̩ͤ̆i͇̰ͬ̈̀ͩ̈g̠̩̬̞̻͇͙͎̈̏̿ͭ̊͊ͩ̿ͦh̞̠̬̳̰͈̪ͮ̅ͫt̞͖̞̭̞̦̜̏̂̚.͍̖̥͉͓̓́͛ͪ͗̋ͬ ̦̥̹͉̰̫͕̺͗ͤ̈ͨ̿R̭̜̼̐̽̾ͥͅi̲̝̝͇̬͔̱͊̍͐̀̋g̯̞̘̓̿͂̑̓ḧ̘͕́̑t̲͉̩͕͚̖͕͂͑͒̿̀̒,̭̜͍ͩ́̓̎ͥͮ̾͌̚ ͓̪͉͓̝͎̬̝̩̆͂̏̇͊̽ͫw͚̟̹̫͈̜̜̺̠ͫ̃̂͋̐͒ͨe̬͇̯̯̥͖͂ͦ̽͊̊ͧ̚l̘̫̞̫̗̞͈̱̺̽ͧľ̜̿͒ͪͤ.̙̲ͦ̓́ͨͣ͊ͯ ̜̟̠̥̗̮̩͓̅̍̈̎̆̒̐T̞̳̩̩͚͈̼̰̃̅h̼͚̤͚̫̽̐̄̈́̇ͯ͌e͈̣͍̼̤̰ͫ̏ ̼͓͔̣̤͙̰ͬͩͥ̎͗̆̚m̥̫̼͇̹͇͉͙̀̊̍ͫ̔a̳̹̜͓͎͖̘͐̂r̟̳̞̟̦͈̭ͩͬͭ́́ŕ͍͍̱͕̲̭̻̙̃ͤ̿ͦĭ͖̦̹͆ͅͅa̦̠̹̖̬̲͇͑̓̾̓͋g͓̥̺͈͓̤̬̖ͯ̒ͦͧ̊ͪ̃e̱̪̺̲̮̘͍ͮ̄̈́̾̊̄.̺͕͋̆̒̌͆ͫ̔ ̩͔̱̫̥̐̃͂ͭ͗ͪW̬̪̫̲̜̘̲̓̓ͥ̐͌ͅe͓̰̲̝͙̭ͩ̀̿ͅ-̘͖̽̅̈̐̈̑̈͊ ̯͇̯̓͐ͣͅͅị̬̣̜̞͓͓̇́̾̇͑s̮̣͚̾̄ͩn̬̠͎ͭ̐'͙͎̠̺̫͉̪͗ͦt̻͖̫̰̫͈̤̙̞̐ͥ͗̓͋̑ ͍̤͇̦̹̞͔̲ͭ͊a̱̱͕̗ͫ̎ͣ̿͛͂́ͬ ̳̺ͧͫ̾p͎̞̰̽̌̍̑̇r̙̯͔̤͈͕̞͙̄̂͛ͫ̾̔͆i͉͉͓̹̣͉͙͗ͬ̇̽̈́͐͛͋e̖̥͇̯̯͖̓ͅs̩̼̖̥̝̃̓̔ͭ̿t̠̥̘̱͍̼͋͋ͮͅ ̘͈̙̭̘̤̼͑͂̿̆̊̓ͨ͛s̳͕̅̓͑̆̈͆ͪ͊u͕ͯ̿͋ͫ̍p̙̟̝̳̹̥ͥ͆̿̐̈́ͮp͇̗̟̥͎̰̯̻̳̃̔ͤo̮̹̩͉̲̟̬̠̺ͧ̓̉̎ͤ̿̾̚ṡ͎͔̺̋ͦ̏ͅe̟̘͙̮̍͐̂̔̽ͅd̠̪͉͍̣͋̈ͯͥͅ ̖̺̹̖̠̹̮̜ͬ̊t͕̮̳̗̩̠̟͆o͚̘̪̰͓̬̺ͤ͋͆͐ͥ̇ͅ ͙̭̊̿ͩb̯̋̏̓̃̚ȅ̜̗̼͎͎͖̲̘ͣ̅̉̂͑̔ͧ ̰̜̟̙̞̩̆̿͗ͬͦ̔́r͔̣̗͍̅̃ͬ̔̎ě̖̮̬̳͊ͅq̰̀̂̉ͫ̊̊u̠͓͓͙̍̉͋̔̏̔i̤͎̦͎̦̣ͤͥͩ̉r̫͑̓̉́̋̿̽ë̯̪̄̑͋̄͑̔͊ͭḋ̖͍̙ ̫̻̗͔̣̦̼̮̈ͭ͆̆ͦͧ͒̓ͬf̭̺̣̥̖̙̺͋̌͒o̘͇̦̪̫̻̥ͣ̂̌͂̀ͬ̋̋r͔͚̻̥̗̙͎͕̠͛̅ ͙̠̐̐ͮͬͥ͊ͭ̆ț̼͐̿͂h͔͙͎̫͛ͭ͐̽̓ͣ̽̅̂ͅi̙̰͙ͤ͆ͯ̃ͧs͎̰̟̩̥̳͚̬͔̀?̝̠̼̝͙̖͂ͮ ̭̞̺͚̯̹̹̂ͦͬͣ́̆I̥ͥ̉͛̂̚ ̱̳̺̱̞̫͔̬ͩ̃͌̚r̻͎̮̘͎͉͍͕̦ͮ͗ͯ̈̅̃ͩ̂ê̪̫̺̟̬̮͕͚̆̏̆̂̈́ͅm̦̻̯̫̪̳̂̅̂ͫ̈́̾̈e̥̝̖̫̖̜̮͖͑̃̊m̗̠̜̳̓̄ͯ͌̓͐̾̏̔b̖͕̘̻̖̪̺͖̅́͗̾̀̓͑ẹ͕̼̩̼̓̿͆̈́r̲͙͙̙̙̙ͬ̒ͫ̌ͬͬͦͧͅ ̭̩̗̥͇̗̭̪̈́̈ͮ̐̃̎̈́t͎͓͎̯̰͎͇͋̊̓̾h͔̟̠͉͕̱ͤ̓̍͗ͨa͍͍̤̝̭̥̦͒̈́̾̚ť̹̗̱̙̰͕̻̯̃ͮͬ ̥̿ͅm͔̹͇̳ͣ̉́͐u͖̦̳͖͙̳̗̫ͪ̑̀̒͊̅̑̚c͈̲̩̯̄̌͂͒ͯ̄ͯh̜͇͕͍̪͍ͭ̈ͤ̓͐ͩ̊ ̘͙̣̗̍ḟ̰̤̻̘̙ͮr̮̲͖͓͈̜̯̋͋ͬö̠̖̺́̄ͅm̗̣̹̜͍ͨ̆ͧ͋̚ ̰̱̹̩͚̹̿͊̂̿͗ͨ̍t̻̣̠͚̻̩̭̪ͪ͂͌ͯ̈́͂ͥh̻͑͑̇͑̋̏͋a̜̮ͫt̹̱ͭ͆̄ͤ̚ ̻̞̠̣͙̬̿ͮͯͪͧ̄̊͊̊o̺̼̖̜͖̙̼̾̊̎n͇͈̓̑ͨͬ̿̊̀̄ḙ̹̰͍̰͕̥͈̑̇̑̊̈ͬͬ͆ ̝͔͚̥͕ͫ͑ͥ̏̀ͬͯc͇̩̏̄̅͗̅a͍̙ͪ̏̄ͩ̋̏̋s̬̼̱͍̤̝̗ͣ̄̽̾ͥe͍̫̘̲͛ͪ̽ͫ̈́,̬̭̳̺̪̲͓̝̮ͭͩ̄͛ ̻͇̙̭̄̔̓̀̋̅ẘ̯͖̦̫̰̻̯ͫ́͛̃ḯ̦̙̮̱͇̥̘̘ͭͥ͗ͣ͛͒̎t̻͍̖̯͉͇͛̇͊ͅh̼̤̲̝̬͈̱͙̖̓ͯͤ ̤̬̣̈͗͗͗̌t͉̩͚̳̤̥̑̾ͤ̌͋h̘͍͚̩̘͇͈͆̆ͨ̎ͮͨ̚è̦̹̭̲͉͕̰̎ͦͦͮͅ ͇̀́͌̎͛̓̿w͇̌̔͋͑r̤̦̖̭̓͆o͇̗̰̖̱̍̃͒̄̍n̘̂ͦ͗̿g͚͓̳͕̘ͮf̳̹̠̠̬̺͕̄ͧ͑̌̇̌̊ͫ̒ͅu̙̮͌ͤ̊́̌͗l͍̘̯͎͈̟͔͒̈͐̊̇ ͍̤̯̣͚͉̝͎̒̇̽̈́̃̑͒m͖̥̦̟̫̪̯̋̿̋a̤̮̳͕̘͚̐͐ͪ̏ͣ̏͛ͫr̺̼̰̾̈́̈́ͮ̉͗r͇̼̠͍̳̠̊ͯͦͥͬ̍̒͒ḯ̘͇̠͓̲ͥ̅ͣͦͫ̄͛ͅa̬̭̙̲͙̥̋ͬ͊͆g̲̥̞͑ẹ̻̈́͋̓͌̽͛.̳͔͈͚̫͙̜͊ͩ͑̊̒""
"I ҉w͘a͠s͢n̛'t p͡res҉e͏nt ̴fo̢r t̴ḩa҉t case͞,͠ ̛si͞r͜e̢. ̢I was̴ o͏ff m̸eęting ̀w̶it̢h a̶ va̴s̛sal. ̀Lik̕è yoư sho҉ulḑ ha̴ve͠ b͏een."
You've got this.
[]A respectful nod. "Yes, for a marriage to be official, it must be finalized by someone in tune with the Great Plan." You're patient. Really.
[]You don't want to wait for a priest. "Oh, that won't be necessary at all. We just need a ring or some such if we want everyone else to know. Surely you have a couple lying about somewhere?" If the clothing vault is anything to go by...
[]No, seriously, you're not waiting for a priest. "We just need a kiss to seal the marriage." You're pretty sure that's not how nobles do it, but it's perfectly acceptable back home. It's how your parents got together.
[]Well, you want it official... but you don't want to wait for a priest... "A priest can consecrate a marriage later. We could declare ourselves married right now, really." You heard it from a traveling merchant who claimed he was told it by a local woman whose cousin's sister did it in some far-off land. Sounds legit.
----------------
Dinner finally ends, and you are quite tired. It was a long trip, and you exhausted yourself with your excitement on the way here.
It ends up cropping up in conversation, at which point-
"B̠͖̌̃͗̊͐̄̐͗e͈̭͔͍͍̿͊̂̓͆ḋ̺͎̗̬̣̉͂̇̊̾̏̎?̙̟͕̰̀͋̊ͅͅ" Caras sounds utterly lost.
There's a click, and for a moment most of Virmire's lefthand eyes seem to vanish. "T̕h͞is i͡s why̷ ͠y̷ou ̧śhou͠l̨d vi̵s͟i̸t your̕ v̶ąs̛s͠a͞ls," Virmire mutters. The eyes reappear, and in a more normal tone Virmire says, "Y҉e͠s̸,̀ ҉b͏ed̴,͜ ͏sir҉e. ͘H͝u̸ma͞n̨s̨, ͏eeeh͏. ͠I ̸forg͡e̶t w̵h̶a҉t ̡th͟e͜y ҉ca̶ll̢ ͜it, ̛b̵ùt͏ ͘the̡y go d̀orm͞a̡n̴t͝ ̷for̕ mány̴ ho͢u͠r̴ś, ̧n͘or҉m͡a̕ļly͟ at nig̛ht.̕"
There's a long silence, and then, clearly aghast, Caras says, "Ṫ͎̔̔͋̐̔̐h̙̹͖̥͔̫̯̳̄̓͂͊͌ͪ̏ͪe̺̞̰̙̻̽ͣ̾͆͂̌̇ͅy̼̮͓̻͉̯̖̙ͪͬ͛̔ͯ̏ͧ ̺͎̝͖̐ͦ͌͌̎ͪͅw̞̯͔̻̰̾͑̐̀̈́͂̏ͫh̺̯̻̠̭́̾̇̊a̱̝̤͎̬͚̹ͫ́t̲͉̳̪̦͚̿̅ͯͣͣ͆ͯ̚?͔̖̜̹̯̘̟̑ͦ̎̅̉̊̋̚ ͉̣̝̬ͮͮ͐Ẅ̰͔͕͒͗ͪ̃h̥͓͒͊̋ͯ̀̿̌͐ỷ̞͕͇̝̝̽ͪ͆̓ͧ̿ͅ?̩̹̪͍͌̆̅̍ ̝͚̮́̊̽̎ͧͨ̋̏ͫI̲̞̦̣̬͖ͣͭ̔̋̂̍̅ͫͦ ̭͙͙̩͉̺̙ͤ̈ͭͦ̒̍̾w̖̟̣̠̲̦ͩ̒̚ā͕̹͙͑̓̾͒͛̿ͭ̚ș͙̠̙̓͆̈ͪ̉́ ̤͈̫̮͍̳̜͚͚͋͗̊̽̉p̣̬̹̣̣̱̦͑̌́̓̓̑ͅͅľ̼̯̻̰̋͊ͥ̇͌͗a̫͈̠͎ͫ͑̔n̠͓͓̘͛ͧ̊̒̋ͧ̅̌n͕͔̮͎̗̪̤͙̽̈́̇̑͆ī̠͈͈̠ͣͭǹ̥̱̤͓͖͒̽ǵ̥̞͔̲͌̿̒ͩ͆͊͑ ̰͙̺̐̏͌o̜̫͆̄̄͊̿̀n̖͇͚̪̜̰̉̈́ͥ̈͊̀͒̚ ̙̲͉̙͙͌ͧ̚ṫ̫̦̝̜̲̬̟͔ͭh̻͈̭͈̾̋ͫͪͭ̑̚e͎̗̥̙̝͉ͪ̄̅̉ͭͤ ͔̗͖̪̰̹̭ͯ̂͒̄̐ͥ̔̚ȋ̮͕͍̃̓̓͛̉̐̿ñ̩̟̠͙̬t͉͎̳̣̘͔̑̀ͤ̋̽̌̆ḛ̥̫̝̰̱̻͎̏̽̏̇ͦͭ̎͆ͯg̫̣̼͖͛̉̑ͮ͛r̤̱͔̻̉͌ͬ͋̈͆̇̚a̠̺̪̝̖͇̖̪̩ͤͯ̿̑̋ț̻͖͕̗ͭi̘͉͂̍̾̿͋͑̂̏o̰͇̯͎̦̎͊̐̔n̬͈͗̃͂ ̤̩̲͙̹̀̐̒ͯ̋̿ͅj̜̬̜̭͂̿ͣ̿ͤ̊̿́͐u̙̟̹̘̭͔̭̯̔͋ͦ͂̆̃̓̒s̻̭͙̄̐t̟̞͓̮̩̪͖ͩ̈́ͧ͂ͥ ͉̫͍̦͚̖͚͓̪̈́a͚̠̘̦̤͔̲̝͑̈́͗̅ͯ̔ͣ̇f̜͇̀̽ͬͫ̔̾t̫͖̫̖̠̪̤̫͌̀̃͐̄̽e̤̻̾ͣͪ̍͋ͣr̯͇̖̫̊̉ͅͅ ̺͙͙̙͙̪̜̝̺ͮ̈͐d͕̺̈́̍ͥ͛̇̂̍ͅí̦̰̱̺̉ͪ͗n̙̜̼̝̖͓̳̝̄̔͒̀̐ͮͥ̓̏n̤͋ͬ͊e̤̻͕̋ͭ̓͗̃͐͒̚ȓ̤̜̙͇̃͑̏͛̂ͨ͗!͖̲̪̩̼̦̝̝͒ͨ͗̚ ̻̪̤̍͋̎T̲̘̿̉ͦͫ̂̿h̦̦ͣ̆̍̌í̼̫̤̙͔̒ͧͪ̒͗͗̔s̠̭͎̬͇ͮ ͇͉͖͈̮̘̆ͫͯ̾w̥̗̾̏͊͆ͨi̫̞͍̬̗͇͑ͮ̃̉̈̈́l̬͚̟͖̲̰͋ͨ͆̆͊̑ͫl͈̝̲ͫͬ̂ ͙͇͇̪̩̤̭̳̺̓̀͒ͦ̃ͮ͛ͪd͇̠̥̦̗͇̯͒ͥ̓e̱̟̝̟̱̮͉̿͒ͭͤ̀ͦl̹̬̆͆ͤ̄a͓͋͗y̹̙̝̝͊̿͗ͭ ̙̮̭̪̯̼͓̟̇ͩͬ͆ͅè̼̘̱̥̘̳ͯ̈́ͮv̰͔͚̘̪̼̲ͣ̂̄͆̚ȅ̦̖̹͙̙̩̋ŕ̗͔͈̟̞̂̚y̠̠̜̌̔̊̚t̳̲̜͐̋h͓̭̖̭͇̜͎̣̒̑ͮ͐ͧ͛̌̚i̻̭͓͙̣̫͍̖̘͂ͬ̓n̜͕͎̠̓ͪͨͮ̔̋̀̚g̙͎̮̝̒-̠̣̞̱̞̬̱̊̓̉ͨ̎ͦ̓ ͍͌̓ͤ̚o̤̍̔h̪͚̱͇̙͊̔̏ͣ͒͆ͧ͌̔ ̼̻͌͒̈n̳̫̦͆̅̽̐̇͑̓ͬŏ̪͉͈͂̽̿ͭͮͩ.̱̙̳̞̗͋̏͗̃́̊̊̉ ̤̮̲͉̼͉̬̙ͣ̾̐̊̑̌̚I̪̳̝͉̘̣̰͙̎̈ͦ'̙̮̩̼̼̰̟̮͓̐ͦͦ̅ͣḷ̳͋ͤ̽ͥl̙͈̰̈̊̏ ̹̮̽͌͊ḧ̫͉̯̬̖̠̲̓͆̒ͅả̭̞͎̀ͥ̒͑͋͒̏v̭͇͚̅̔̎̒ͣe͖̠̬͎̰͎̙͑͛̈́̈́̐̂̾ͯͅ ̩̼̫͖ͪ̅̅͗̊̇͂t̟̜͊̊͊͛͆͑o̻̟̘̝̗ͤ̆ͦͅ-͚̹̅͌̃̆͛"
Dryly, Virmire interrupts. "V̸isit͞ you͞r ̸vassa̸ļs, yes. ͏H͡ǫw͘ t͜errib̵l̛e, sir̴e."
Huh?
[]"No no, I'm fine! We can do this... integration thing right away! Don't worry about me, Caras!"
[]This sounds romantic. "Can we do the integration thingy as part of the marriage ceremony?" Big doe eyes.
[]Wait. "You don't sleep?" B-b-b-but you were looking forward to sharing a bed!
[]Whatever. You just... need to sleep. Soon. Everything else can wait until morning.
[]Wait a second. Caras is... like an owl? Awwww. You'll start on staying up nights and sleeping days! Right now! That way you can share your days nights with Caras! Oh and I guess there's that integration whatever to do, why not.
(Still plan/block voting)
