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"So we're going to be working with international customers, right?" Meryl prods about the job offer, tending towards accepting. "Do we have to travel?"

"If you want to, but trust me, you don't want to travel with these sorts. They're nice enough professionally, but once you get enough money and power, people who want it tend to be either scum or paranoid against scum." Instead of the traditional housewife mainstay of wine, Dr. Sheridan asked for whiskey. Funny enough, she ended up polishing off a bottle her husband had gifted your dad.

Tilting the glass in her hand, she sighs. "I love Steve, but God if he isn't constantly up to something or other. Not that I'm one to talk." She shrugs. "You work on the cutting edge, sometimes you get cut. But you don't have to worry about that, not the least because you're not experienced enough to work with the newest stuff." Your look makes her give you a stinkeye in return. "What? I'm not putting you in the line of fire. I'm a mother, you know." You vaguely recall meeting her son, who is about Alice's age. Knowing Alice, she'd want to marry the son of a senator and doctor for prestige.

Any hints as to what we're going to be working on, then? "Looking at a lot of sample slides. Verifying results. Stuff suited to recent graduates." She piques her ears in tune to the front door opening. Your father enters first, followed by Daryl. He hugs Mom and then Alice, who goes from uneager cook to model daughter for a scant few moments. Meanwhile, Daryl immediately passes by your discussion.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I'll be ready to leave in about ten minutes," he declares. "By then, dinner should be ready, I think." He nods to the ladies in turn. "Doctor. Meryl. It's good to see you two." Almost as soon as he arrives, he leaves.

"Kind of an odd one, isn't he?" Meryl asks quietly, before realizing she might have insulted your brother.
Dr. Sheridan merely smiles. "Not really. Just overcompensating." A ruthless thought comes to mind- she's in a good mood and slightly tipsy. This might be the best chance to get her to say something important.

>"You talked about a crackpot hunter before. Who are we talking about?" Know thy enemy.
>"What do the rings do?" Are they just symbolic? That symbol seems important.
>"You met Meryl's dad, right? Is he really a wizard?" Dive on that grenade while you have an excuse to book it.
>"There was this... Unusual guy at Virginia Beach." The crazy old man.
>"Yeah..." You put the opportunity aside. Come to think of it, isn't the doctor Daryl's type? Awkward.
>[Write-In]

>>5534762
>>"There was this... Unusual guy at Virginia Beach." The crazy old man.
Hmm... kind of tempted to ask about the symbol, but I have vague sense that the strange guy's appearence may be more important for our overview of the landscape..
also welcome back OP!

>>5534762
>"There was this... Unusual guy at Virginia Beach." The crazy old man.
I'll agree, both that the old man seems important and that it's good to see you back.

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>>5534776
>>5534857

You tell her about the old man. The more she hears, the more disquieted she is. When you say one of his eyes was out of focus, she puts her drink down. Sucking in air through her gritted teeth, she breathes out through her nose. "That... He's been handled. Don't worry about him showing up again. He won't." When you ask if she knows the two men that came calling, the Doctor further sets her jaw. "No. They did not work for me. But that tells me a lot. I think I know those men, and if I'm right, I can get them out of the way too."

All of this is sounding like lethal euphemism, and Meryl expresses similar discomfort. The doctor picks her glass back up and quaffs the remaining half-drink, flinching as if she had bit into a lemon. "Placing them at that hotel might be a thread I can pull to unravel this bullshit shadow war."

"Are you okay?" Meryl asks, awkwardly looking around for any sign dinner is about to start.

"No." Sheridan looks at you with hard eyes. "All you need to know is my father and your grandpa left Yggdrasil for the same reason." Why would she bring up her- Suddenly, it all clicks. She came from a funeral of her estranged father. The old man you saw was supposed to have died ten years ago. He fits the criteria, especially if she was born illegitimately.

Thankfully, Daryl arrives. He's never casual, wearing a polo shirt and slacks, complete with belt and dress shoes. He steps in, unsure what to say if anything. You use the opportunity to take Meryl's hand and grasp it to help relieve some of the tension. She smiles softly, akin to a cat being scratched behind the neck. Once she seems soothed, you stand up. We're headed out.

"Enjoy!" your fiancée waves. Dr. Sheridan says nothing. Your brother nods. Dinner is served just as you two head out to the car.

Daryl is driving, but no words pass between you as you both step in and put on seatbelts. There's no question why- your brother is envious of you. It's not that he wants Meryl- he doesn't. It's not that he wants your job- he has a better one. It's not even that he wants your physique: He's a skilled athlete and a perfect pretty boy. He wants what he sees as your ability to live effortlessly, succeeding at everything you do.

You failed early and often, even when you were experienced. But you never let it get you down, and you made sure you were never taken off guard due to being lazy. He just doesn't seem to understand how much work you put into everything- but that just might make him angrier.

By the time you look up, it's almost halfway to your destination. A quiet car as the city rolls by.

...

This silence is getting painful... Now what?

>"How's school going?" He's trying for a Master's in five.
>"Mom wanted me to talk to you..." She found the stash, Daryl.
>"Can we just talk?" About nothing in particular.
>"Found any cute chicks ice skating?"
>[Write-In]

>>5535648
>"Can we just talk?" About nothing in particular.

>>5535648
>>"How's school going?" He's trying for a Master's in five.

>>5535648
>How’s school going?
Seems like an alright point to segue from. If he gets upset, we can tank it and eventually show that we do have faith in him,

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>>5535744
>>5536177
>>5536685
"Well enough. Work's cut out for me." A bit cagey, but you can't really blame him. Taking an accelerated MBA right off of a degree is close to suicidal, and he has to keep up a stellar GPA to even attempt it. Prepared by Dad, Daryl traded inexperience for fighting cries of nepotism tooth and nail. On paper, he looks exactly like someone 'donated' into a high-end school, so he works furiously to disprove it. He's getting in somewhere, but he wants to be the best.

Even before you met Meryl, you tended to be pretty lucky in love, which helped you keep connected to friend groups. Temporary, not like your high school clan, but it wasn't nothing. Daryl never had anyone- probably why Mom thinks he might be in the closet. You had the thought yourself when girls made googly eyes at him and he ignored them.

Get to relax any? "Pennsylvania has some good rinks," he admits. Daryl likes ice skating on account on how he's able to control himself, and hockey and lacrosse on account of letting him vent. He spent too much time on work to be on a seasonal team, but he can literally skate circles around you. "Found a good year-round spot, and partners for pair skating." He sighs as he turns into the parking lot. "Too many bodies, not enough brains."

So they're skating by on looks? Daryl selects a spot to pull into, puts the car into park, and then slugs you. Ow. It doesn't really hurt, but it's the thought that counts. He's still smiling a bit, so you got through to him. Also, you slug him back.

After an embarrassingly long brotherly punching match, you bashfully enter the pizzeria. It's got an arcade, which is why Daryl has a nostalgic bent for it, but surprisingly, he doesn't go for a cabinet. He looks at the closest game, back at you, and then looks away. "You want to order, or you want me?" Sure enough, he stands by as you detail what you want. The two of you end up agreeing on the basic but effective pepperoni-mushroom-extra-cheese combination. Daryl isn't able to drink, but you are, so he goes to the soda fountain while you pick up a beer.

He comes back with diet cola and takes a sip. However, it's clear something is on his mind besides food. "You're getting married, huh?" he says quietly. Yup. His tongue is tied. For someone who wants to be a major industry player, Daryl's biggest problem is not being able to say the things he feels. Maybe it's because he doesn't want to be 'irrational'. He's been perfectly polite with Meryl, and seems to approve of the pairing. He manages to force something out. "Good luck."

>"'Too many bodies, not enough brains...' You sizing someone up?"
>"I'm short a best man..." who better than a brother?
>"Did Dad tell you anything unusual about our family?" Fish out if he knows something on Yggdrasil.
>Wait for him to speak. Imposing the conversation on him won't help.
>[Tipsy] Hey, this beer is pretty good. You'll have another.
>[Write-In]

>>5536902
>>"I'm short a best man..." who better than a brother?
do we have anyone else/more suitable? Well the guy who hooked himself with our ex, good luck to them but no thank you.

>>5537329
If all else fails, you have Pete McCoy, the lineman who served as an example to Alex.
>Well the guy who hooked himself with our ex, good luck to them but no thank you.
His suffering Their relationship could be the subject of its own quest. But as amusing as it would be for them to show up, Alex is smart enough not to take the bet that everything just blows over.

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>>5537329
Daryl's shocked at this, and considers this offer with clasped hands, staring at the table between the two of you. Despite the fact that a brother is the standard choice for a best man, the thought that you'd give him the honor never seemed to have occurred to him. It's probably to do with your respective temperaments: You're devil-may-care, he's hypervigilant. You've also been somewhat at arm's length since college, or even before that. All things considered, he's actually the perfect choice- he's fashionable, organized, rigorous, and cultured. "I'll make the time. I was going to have to anyway, given you're getting married, but I'm..." His face scrunches up into a self-conscious, giddy grin. "Thank you. I'll get you some ideas for your bachelor's party by the end of the week." Good God, even when he's excited he's on a schedule.

"How have things been going for you?" he asks. The two of you trade college stories, and time slips by. It's nice to be back. It's not quite Fourth of July when you were fifteen, but it's close enough given how much the two of you have changed. That night, you had carried a recently teenage Daryl on your shoulders so he could see the fireworks better. It was tiring, but worth it, and he bought you both snowcones. He was much more excitable when he was younger, happy to talk with his big brother about anything and everything. It feels pretty good that you'll be able to bring that out of him again for the happiest day of your old life.

The conversation turns into a blur, and the pizza disappears. The topic never covers politics, but it does brush up against shared interests, like first-person shooters. In public, Daryl hates them, finding them boring, all-the-same shlock. You do know, however, that he has a love of more tactical FPS, justifying it through a variety of smokescreens but ultimately because it's fun. He's not very good, to be honest, but he's definitely passionate. Hearing the Woodsman scion taunt the enemy team for clearing them all out was a sight to behold.

When you head home, the cheery discussion continues until he looks up and stops talking. It's cool out. You're initially worried that something's off, but you follow his gaze to see Meryl standing outside, absent-mindedly looking at the stars. This doesn't seem like the sort of opportunity you pass up. Give us a bit? He nods, and says, "I probably need to call it a night anyway. It was fun." He slips inside without another word, and you're left in the summer night with your wife.

Meryl is happy when you embrace her from behind, attaching herself to your arm in peace and quiet. "I think we're going to make it after all."

>"Of course we will." Reassure her.
>"Did something happen?" Why is she out here alone?
>"Your parents..." They wanted to show up, is she fine with that?
>"Maine next, right?" You've done all you need to here.
>Being alone in the dark gives the two of you opportunity for intimacy.
>[Write-In]

>>5539517
>"Of course we will." Reassure her.
>"Did something happen?" Why is she out here alone?

>>5539517
>>"Of course we will." Reassure her.
>>"Did something happen?" Why is she out here alone?

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>>5539538
>>5539540

Meryl appreciates your continued support- although she scrunches up her face a little bit. "Of course 'of course'!" she says, exasperated but thankful. She turns around and embraces you. "Come on now, you think I'm collapsing? Nah, I'm stronger than I look." Sure enough, after a moment, she places her hands in your armpits, and then lifts you, to prove she can do it. Before, when someone was watching, she wasn't able. You weigh about two-fifty, so she's lifting a man half-over her weight like it was nothing- quite impressive. Her shining marine eyes fill your vision as she puts you down, posing in a 'gunshow' position for a second. Nice bounce. "I'm just grateful everything worked out, that's all."

Did something happen? Why is she out here alone?
"There were some guys that got lost. Your dad talked to them, and they drove off. I was worried for a bit, but it seems like it was nothing," she says, and digs her chin into your chest. "Besides, I wanted to wait for you." Aw. Still, people turning up out of nowhere- that seems like those two men you met before. Have they been following you? It's hard to let that go, especially because Dr. Sheridan showed up the same day they did. What happened to her, by the way? Did she leave?
"Nope, she's still here." Meryl snorts. "She insisted your parents not break out another whiskey bottle for her sake, so the four adults have been through two bottles of wine. I got some great maternity tips between her and your mom." Wait, is Meryl pregnant? Does her pregnancy work differently? "Nope, I have to wait to know just like everyone else. I also learned that your mom can be really competitive when it comes to cards. And that your dad can perform a second deal." Apparently he learned to do it to improve Mom's win rate.

The explanation of the fallout is broken up by Meryl's giggling, and it becomes virtually incomprehensible. Her laughter is infectious, and soon the two of you are standing in the summer night without a care in the world. The wind blows, the moon shines down from above, and the two of you talk for what seems like forever about nothing at all. The bars you used to visit in college. The best library for cramming. Even bus routes.

She speaks about Boston, and her community on the coast. You don't know if they're human or Dagonian, but it doesn't matter, because they helped take care of her in ways her parents wouldn't. Still not many friends her age, but it wasn't nothing. The brave surfers in the area gave her a small community. Swimming and some surfing kept her fit, it seemed, which seems obvious in retrospect, but she would always swim in private if she could manage it.

"I gave up surfing for expense and time. For swimming, there wasn't anyone I knew I could trust," she says. "Until now."

(1/2)

(2/2)

Another tender moment where Meryl rests her head on your shoulder and the two of you embrace heartbeat to heartbeat. There's something primevally satisfying about holding your wife in your arms. It feels like completion. Your hand brushes her hair, and everything melts away. So simple from the outside, so important to the two of you. Despite this, the two of you can still get closer, and it's a great temptation given your proximity. But that can wait until Maine, or until the first hotel you visit on your way to your new home.

Meryl kisses you and disengages for a second, her eyes half-lidded. "It is getting a little late, isn't it?" You suppose. That fact is confirmed when Dr. Sheridan stumbles outside, your father stepping out to follow her and wait for the ride. The good doctor fumbles to light up a cigarette, and dear old Dad helps her light it before handing it back and keeping his distance. His eyes pick the two of you out in the dark, and when the cab arrives promptly, he watches it leave before approaching.

"Your mother has already retired for the night, as have Daryl and Alice." he says. "Meryl told you about those men?" Yeah. "I spoke to them. It seems like they didn't know their way around." Eye to eye with Meryl, he adds, "By the way, the wife wakes up at six-thirty, like I do." That odd fact inserted, your father turns back to you. "I have my father's ring- the gold one, for marriage. We can use it to check your measurements, but Daryl wants it. I need to see if it fits him before giving it over. He's more my size than you are. You and my father would have been closer in size." Big fun, Grandpa. Though not as responsible as he could have been, clearly. If Dad hadn't been as clever as he was, the family business could have gone belly-up because of Gramps. Maybe that's why Dad's a bit of a control freak- he had to be, to make sure there was a home to return to.

The last thing Dad says before heading in is, "Don't stay out here too long. I need to lock the doors at some point."

>You need to talk to Dad man-to-man. You can't trust whatever conversation he had with Mom.
>You want to be rested up in case the in-laws arrive unexpected, so you're calling it a night.
>Six-thirty... What's important about six-thirty?
>If the doctor got a taxi, you can get one too. Time to find a seat at Scoville's one bar.
>"You're lying about those men, aren't you?" Maybe that excuse ran with everyone else, but...!
>[Write-In]

(Thanks for the patience, work was bad.)

>>5543858
>Six-thirty... What's important about six-thirty?
We got a time limit to impregnate the wife without mom finding out, let's get to it.

(Don't worry QM, it's all good.)

>>5543858
>Six-thirty... What's important about six-thirty?
I’m not sure about attempting a sneak fuck, and Meryl deserves better than to split attention between her and furtiveness but I suppose if it happens, it happens.

>>5543894
>>5544501
You don't explicity ask anything, but make it clear you have a sneaking sense of what was meant.
"I'm not suggesting you do anything in a concealed sense," your father clarifies. "What I am saying is that if you were to wake up before I did, anything you did wouldn't be considered suspect."

Meryl rolls her eyes, but gives a sly grin: the hints aren't needed. "We appreciate the gesture."

Dad shrugs and heads back inside. Your wife smiles, but does so oddly, as she invites you back inside. But there's something wrong about this, at least in your book. Maybe it's not confirmed, but you're functionally husband and wife. Hiding it doesn't really help. Maybe it's rude to oppose Mom, but you're not hiding Meryl.

Just maybe it's just a matter of hormones, but you've had romances before, and none of them really stuck with you like this. Every other time, it was... It was like you were just trying to ward off boredom. Always more about transaction or prestige than communication or intimacy. Before, you just happened to have a girlfriend. Now, you have Meryl, and she has you.

Meryl, for her own part, acts particularly enthusiastic about another opportunity to be with you. She draws you upstairs softly, exerting only a fraction of the strength she lifted you up with before. The pictures seem to look at you, and that mental judgement is bothersome. Drawings of people looking at you has always given you the creeps. It has nothing to do with the 'wrongness' of the action and more to do with those eyes, from the inside of your mind, demanding you be honest with her.

"Meryl... Wait." When you admit that hiding this feels wrong, she giggles and opens the door to the room that used to be yours. "Hiding? I'm not going to hide anything." Eh? "You're staying here tonight, and if it comes to a row with your mom, your Dad said it was okay." She puts a hand on your chest to re-assure you that all is well. "Stay with me, Alex. Life is too short to get hung up on details."

There's no way you can refuse that.

-~-

The smell of bacon wakes you up ahead of time, but you grit your teeth. Mom will just have to deal with it. Meryl, who has just woken up, detaches herself from you and kisses you on the cheek before getting decent enough to walk to the shower. A coy smile, and one last shimmy. She really is a flirt when she wants to be.

One shower and some of the clothes that were stored in your room getting dusty during college later, you try to adjust your jeans and turn into the dining room. Your father-in-law is already seated and drinking coffee. "Good morning," he takes a sip.

>"Did you sneak in or something?" How did he get here? When did he get here?
>"Did you eat all of the bacon?" Son of a-
>Wasn't he supposed to wait for a call from you?
>This is fine.
>Head on a swivel, this is only the secondary threat in the room... Where's Mom?
>[Write-In]

>>5544911
>This is fine.
Everything's fine. Just say good morning and sit down for breakfast.

>>5544911
>This is fine.
Fancy meeting you here...
let's be hospitable and hear his story.

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>>5544992
>>5548268
Nothing is wrong. You needed to talk to him anyway.

From where you seat yourself, you see your mother buzzing around in the kitchen. She's helping the white-haired woman that is Meryl's mother cook but mostly making sure she doesn't ruin the organization of the pots and pans. "Normally, I would be chipping in, but too many cooks and all that." He looks disquieted for a second, not the chipper talkative fellow he usually is. "Well, I made the coffee, so I won't worry about it." His smile comes back to his face suddenly and he asks you, "How did you sleep?" Pretty well. "Good to hear. You know, it's unusual to me that you're a natural sorcerer when neither of your parents are." He would know better than you.

Dr. Feardorcha Cier. Sometimes spelled Ciar. By all appearances, he's a jovial pipsqueak, almost a head shorter than his own daughter with blazing red hair in a full beard. Professor of marine immunology, apparently, who keeps multiple fish tanks in his own household. Also a magician who can apparently encrypt radio transmissions at will. You make it a point to ask what kind of sorcerer he is, anyway.

"Ah, I'm glad you asked!" he says. "I'm a regular Magneto! My family broke off from a bigger clan and focused on light manipulation- things like invisibility and illusions. Turns out that electromagnetism has manifold applications. Baking home intruders, for example." Wait, what? "Yup. Turns out it doesn't take much heat to make a belt of ammunition cook off." Oh, okay. "And if you've never seen someone's head getting microwaved-" Your skin crawls. I think I'll pass. He shrugs, sipping his coffee, seeming more amused by your discomfort than concerned by it. Well, that explains a lot.

The sound of frying is heard, and the old man's ears perk up. "Boxty! Good luck, to have the mashed potatoes on hand." Sure enough, peeking into the kitchen shows that Mom's leftover mashed potatoes have been co-opted for this endeavor. She probably made too much in anticipation of your arrival. You can't disagree with the outcome, however. Even as garlic-y as the fried potato pancakes are, they certainly are filling. Even Dad seems impressed, as he and Daryl get the freshest batch for work.

Mom returns to the dining table after kissing Dad and sits next to you, across from Meryl's father. She plays the part of a good hostess, and is especially happy that the Ciers plan on keeping her supplied instead of abusing her hospitality (more). It's very calm, and you're grateful for that, though you think that it's most likely a prelude to something loud. When Meryl comes downstairs, Mom's expression becomes a little strained, but it has nothing to do with her and everything to do with you. Aw, man. Thankfully, there's no alarms or alerts... Things just seem to work out. When you're prepping the dishes for the dishwasher, discussion in the den is on what ought to be done for the day.

(1/2)

(2/2)

Meryl is trying to reel in the expectations of her parents- after all, it is a small town, so there aren't a lot of major landmarks. You dread the idea of them leaving a trail of destruction through the small venues, but maybe that's just paranoia. Bowling sounds nice, if they keep their cool. Maybe if she can stall to the weekend...

"So, when's the wedding?" Mom has decided to ambush you while your hands are full and there's no-one around. We haven't worked out a date yet.

She steps forward, just outside your personal space. "Oh, I thought you would have planned that already. We have a church here, you know." Wait, she was the one to suggest the Maine wedding. What gives? Is something wrong? "No, nothing's wrong." She steps up again. "Unless something is wrong." Now she's almost right on top of you. "But you would tell me if something was wrong, right?" You initially stay silent, and then nod. So Alice does take after Mom.

Mom steps back and re-engages pleasant host mode. "It's a little unfortunate they showed up on a weekday, just because your father can't participate, but maybe that's for the best, so that they can take Meryl back home." Why would she need to go back home? "It takes months to plan a wedding, Alex. A year, in some cases. And you haven't even gotten her a ring." She holds up her own hand and the possibility that the mundane issues will be more complex than the supernatural ones dawns on you. Honestly, you had just been hoping that it would be a family potluck after the ceremony. It doesn't take that long to arrange a wedding ceremony, does it?

"You really are just like your grandfather." She puts two fingers to her temple. "Luckily, Meryl isn't anything like your grandmother. If you want to rush things, I would at least talk with her parents about the priest in question- if it's not a special venue, usually they have ceremonies in the bride's home church."

>"Speaking of which..." Rescue Meryl from her pestering parents- this family business is taking away from time with her.
>"I know it's no high-rise wedding, but it's what she wants." You'd expect Daryl's wife to want something elaborate.
>"Don't worry, we've got a priest." Meryl's dad mentioned one- your only concern is he's a Dagonian fanatic.
>"How well did you know Grandma?" Dad never talked about Grandma.
>"I'm not like Grandpa. I care about my wife." Whatever he did, he left Grandma and Dad hanging.
>[Write-In]
(Thanks for your >>5544992 patience in particular, assuming you're not one of the other regulars.)

>>5548721
Hmm...
ah hell, let's bring up the priest Ciers mentioned.
And hear Mom's counterpoints etc

>>5548721
>"Don't worry, we've got a priest." Meryl's dad mentioned one- your only concern is he's a Dagonian fanatic.
A priest is a priest.
No thanks necessary QM, and I am indeed a regular. My internet has been acting up since the holidays.

>>5548774
>>5548776
"Father Lyme!" Mr. Cier declares. "Yes, he can serve weddings on short notice- he's done it before."
Mom continues to suppress her judgement with a mild grimace and staying silent. "So he's a bit ...unconventional?"
"Only because people push him to it- Lyme pastors a rowdy parish with plenty of mixed marriages. He once told me he doesn't think the Bishop reads his letters before approving them." Proceeding as if this weren't a concern, your father-in-law adds, "To him, an opportunity like this is a vacation."

Meryl chips in to reassure your worried mother. "He's a good person, he's just busy. He's worked out of a rough area of the city for a while."

"Oh, of course! Keep him topped up and the old lush can be whatever you need." Meryl shoots her father a dead glare for his lack of support. Although if he's a normal human, perhaps being perpetually drunk is more a defense mechanism than a character flaw.

Mom is almost apoplectic, an emotion that garners the attention of Mrs. Cier. "I see you're not entirely convinced. It was an enjoyable wedding for me, at least. Father Lyme has performed dozens and dozens of weddings, including my own, with the man you see beside me." She hugs her husband from the side, and the contrast in their height becomes obvious. Dr. Cier reciprocates, and it's a small touching moment. Despite all of their dysfunctions, they really do seem to be happy together, and that's thankfully something your mother takes notice of.

"W-Well, if he's overseen so many weddings," she finally agrees, "It shouldn't be so bad to have the family go to Maine and make it a little private affair." It's certainly not glamorous, that's for sure, but she's finally relaxed. It's her home, after all. Now yours. Your family has never been a big center of attention, and while you've brushed shoulders with attention-starved political brats who want to take photos of the hunky boy nobody knows, a day out of the limelight suits you better.

"Enough of the future, then," Dr. Cier declares, breaking out of his wife's grip with a kiss. "I promised I'd foot the bill for my family and yours when we visited. Is there somewhere you want to go?"

"Somewhere outside," Mrs. Cier states quietly, and Meryl furrows her brow. Uh oh.

Surprisingly, your mom comes in for the rescue. "Mrs. Cier, I could show you around while the other three choose something interior. Alice needs fresh air anyway." Meryl's dad is on board with that, though he seems a little concerned about leaving his wife with someone who might not understand her. In any case, you want to stick with Meryl.

>Your mom and sister can handle Mrs. Cier, time to go bowling with the father in law.
>You'd prefer to go as a group, so something like a minigolf course should be open and engaging enough.
>The backyard is pretty extensive, why not rely on that for a picnic?
>Against your better judgement, you want a second shot at your first meeting with Meryl's mother.
>[Write-In]

>>5551197
we're going to be one sitcom worthy family, aren't we?

Well if not for all the implied threat of violence hanging overhead I suppose.

>>minigolf
Let's get used to each other some more before clustering away maybe? Although chance of random encounters... hm.
Maybe later we could do some grilling in the backyard?

>>5551197
>You'd prefer to go as a group, so something like a minigolf course should be open and engaging enough.
Minigolf's fine. And yes, we're a sitcom.

>>5551197
>You'd prefer to go as a group, so something like a minigolf course should be open and engaging enough.

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>>5551305
>>5551782
>>5553464
One town over, there's a suitably family-oriented 'putt-putt' golf course. You made quite an idyllic picture in the past, with your well-bred family. Now, the summer hire is visibly losing his mind, trying to gauge what exactly is going on. Meryl's family is polite enough, but they obviously unsettle him, especially the Dagonian passing off as an albino woman. Her behavior is odd, not really comparative to other developmental issues, more like a cultural difference. For instance, she doesn't speak to the sixteen-year-old behind the counter because she's not the one paying, asking questions of her husband instead of the employee.

It doesn't help that she's insanely good at putt-putt golfing. One might expect a hybrid like her to be somewhat clumsy, with wrongly knit nerves and muscle issues, but she places holes in one every other hole, and patiently waits for everyone else. Only her husband comes close, with Alice, Meryl, and your mother following in that order. You take up the rear guard. These stupid little sticks aren't built for you. Meryl is astonished and offended: Astonished because her mother never displayed this kind of skill before, and offended because her mother has apparently been ignoring her to practice minigolf. That's a rare sentence if you've ever heard one.

"It was a common date night when we were younger," Dr. Cier clarifies. "A good way to ease her into socialization. There are lots of minigolf courses on the coast."

"Yes. We never went as a family because I've psychologically associated it with courtship," Mrs. Cier declares, apparently getting ahead of her daughter. "Which makes it appropriate for now." She smiles, trying to connect with her frustrated daughter. "I assure you, your father is more amiable to this match than mine was to my own." Meryl is remaining calm for your sake, even though by her expression, she's very close to bending the flimsy club in half or warping it over her mother's skull.

Speaking of which, you have an aside with Dr. Cier. That's not going to be a future problem, is it? Her grandpa? "Nope. You have my personal assurance." Okay, but explain what that means. You're not taking any chances at this point. He ponders his phrasing for a second and then replies, "I wanted to marry Kihau. Her father wanted to duel me. He insisted. I obliged." You're sorry you even asked.

Alice is trying to extract herself from this extremely un-cool situation, and amusing herself by flirting with the poor desk employee. It would be unbelievable, except that it really isn't. Your family was barely keeping a lid on the goofiness prior to your meeting Meryl: her family has launched this comedy of errors into orbit. Maybe when you get to Maine things will simmer down. You doubt it, though. At least you'll be several hours away from any shenanigans.

(1/2)

(2/2)

Mom seems to be getting along swimmingly with Mrs. Cier, all things considered. Maybe it's because they're both from the northeast? You don't know what prompted it, but they somehow got on the topic of car maintenance. You'll admit, you never thought your mom the kind who would do oil changes, but it makes sense if she lived alone for a time. After the topic switches to husbands, the two of them pull Meryl into a quick huddle you're not allowed to listen into. Oh well. You eyeball a shot on the artificial green. This particular hole has been a thorn in your side for about a decade, with its bridge and the tunnel and the windmill all working to add six or seven strokes to any attempt.

You line up the shot and a careful measurement speeds along the sphere. Over the bridge, a good clean run bouncing off of the stones. The golf ball rolls patiently across the facade turf and into the tunnel, good. Surprisingly, once it exits, it hurries toward the windmill. Dr. Cier begins paying attention. The blades of the artificial hazard are slowly spinning to block the entrance, to knock the stroke off course. It got through? Just past one of the blades, apparently, slowing down as it exits the other side. Come on, all that remains is to... circle around the rim, slow down, and-

BASTARD!

It spun out! Stupid fucking thing! That was a hole in one! What kind of twisted physics-

You look at Dr. Cier, and he shakes his head. Calmly, you clear your throat and pick up your club from where it has very definitely fallen accidentally from your hands. You finish the hole just in time for Alice to take her shot, frustrated her recent teasing of some random boy was cut short by your justified outrage.

"What are you so wound up about anyway? You're in last." Shut up, Alice. She doesn't understand! Your sister sticks her tongue out and putts.

At least there's a silver lining to all of it, in that your outburst robbed all the tension from the outing. Meryl approaches you when the ladies break up their conspiracy, giving you a side-hug and leaning on you. "They wanted to go clothes-shopping, but I figure that could wait for tomorrow." Yup. This is about the two of you, so spending time together is a priority. "Besides, you seem like you could use the comfort." Har har. It's not as bad when she does it, though.

>"This is a good time to make a break for it." Alice wants to go her own way, and you want to go somewhere with Meryl.
>You need to hang in a bit longer with the in-laws, to get a better read on them.
>It seems like she's the one who needs comfort. "You and your mom really don't get along, do you?"
>"If you really want a fancy wedding dress, we can get you one." She's a frugal woman, but deserves some indulgence.
>Meryl in lingerie... Nice. So far as you know, she doesn't own any.
>[Write-In]

>>5554542
>"This is a good time to make a break for it." Alice wants to go her own way, and you want to go somewhere with Meryl.
>Meryl in lingerie... Nice. So far as you know, she doesn't own any.
Make a break for it while imagining the goods.

>>5554542
>>wedding dress
I'm guessing the ladies will be picking that one without our input, no?
>>Meryl in lingerie... Nice. So far as you know, she doesn't own any.
Meryl, you're such a treasure. Let's not go too far with the mental imagery so as not to scandalize the other minigolf-ers...

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>>5554658
>>5555790
When you think about Meryl in a wedding dress, which is surely what the ladies want to pick out for her, you compare ideas to her in other kinds of clothing and... Uh, you get a little distracted. You remember her mentioning that she was going to buy black lingerie because white bridal lingerie doesn't suit a non-virgin. That factor sticks in your mind for longer than you anticipated. You wonder if she really needs lingerie, either. After all, she's uh... She's got a nice body, and you really hope she appreciates that, and understands she doesn't need nice clothes to be a good person. Or a good wife. Or a good lay. Because she's all of those things and she's also really really hot.

After all, last night was a reminder of that. You didn't even have to look at her directly to appreciate how physically satisfying she was. The two of you had a short moment and decided to sleep soon after. One and done, so to speak. Heh, one was enough.
Filename
Meryl's bemused expression snaps you back to reality. "So... You seem pretty caught up in thought." Shit, she's got you in her sights. Excuse time, pronto!

I was just thinking that this is a good time to make a break for it. She looks at you more closely. Alice wants to go her own way, and you want to go somewhere with your beloved wife. "And you started caring about what Alice thought when?" Your sister seethes impotently in the background, snooping in while the adults play, but you quickly respond. I care when it's to the direct benefit of my wife. Little Sis is secondary. Maybe tertiary. Alice not-so-covertly flips you the bird, only to get her ear snagged by an observant mother hen. As Mom lays into the Woodsman problem child, that becomes your signal to go. "Alice, you are our MVP," Meryl declares, and agrees to your hasty plan.

Get-out-of-jail-free-card acquired, you book it to the mall after returning your clubs. Mom is going to throw a fit, but she'll just have to live with it. This is the mall Alice usually goes to anyway, Scoville is too small to have a dedicated mall. The bustle does provide a small shield from Meryl's mom, who obviously doesn't like the idea of tightly contained spaces.

Meryl passes by a few jewelry stores, unsatisfied with what she sees. "I wonder if it's even worthwhile buying from these malls. Just a simple golden ring will do, but they'll want to put their fanciest and most expensive stuff in the window." Yup. You wonder if there's a local jeweler, or if that's something that Scoville shops out for. A Hispanic man passes by carrying a variety of cooking tools. It would have been entirely unremarkable had he not carefully stacked several boxes on top of each other, deftly carrying a tower taller than himself that threatens to tip at all times. Meryl looks at him, looks at you, and then the two of you move along.

(1/2)

(2/2)

Rubbernecking aside, it's unclear what your next move is. Sitting down at one of the interior water fountains, Meryl rests her head on your shoulder. "Alex, that man Dr. Sheridan talked about... He needs to..." she checks to make sure nobody is listening. "He's going to keep being a problem until he stops being a problem. I don't want to have a child and find out one day the baby is gone." Seems like kind of a negative start, but okay.

You mull it over. Grandpa has been dead for a while, and the other guy who was tied to this spooky dude was supposed to be dead for a decade. Both of those men were literal grandparents, so this guy is at least as old as your dad and been fighting supernaturals for ages. Maybe he has some booster keeping him in the fight. You wouldn't put it past a fanatic to make personal rule exceptions.

Yggdrasil... Your grandfather was a participant. The ring was so well-known, or maybe enchanted, that Meryl reacted to it as if it were a mystic deterrent. Per Dr. Cier, there are maybe ten agents that would come after your family. Killing the crazy geezer in charge might cripple their crusade for good, and he almost certainly belongs to that organization if he drove the two old men away.

Maine is obscure, but is it obscure enough? That might work against you, if the hunter comes stalking. He can enter without warning and maybe lay a trap that way. You also can't guarantee he won't risk blowing his cover to destroy your family. He's not strong enough to beat Dr. Cier in a drag-out fight, but he might drop that if he gets desperate enough, or lays a trap. This entire experience is causing nothing but paranoia! Still... The next decision you take as to where you need to go with regards to Yggdrasil is going to be particularly important.

>Forget about it. He's going to make his stupid decision and we have to live with it.
>Maine is home turf. Grandpa will chip in to make it safe.
>Time for a double-cross. Wear the ring and pretend to have been shocked by Meryl, then kill your foe.
>If all else fails, Meryl needs to flee to the ocean with your child.
>[Write-In]
AND on a lighter note...
>We need to go bowling or something to get out of this slump.
>That guy buying stuff jogged your memory. Essentials for Maine!
>Maybe the Scouts have something going on at their baseball diamond?
>About that lingerie...
>[Write-In]
That took me too damn long to write in a way that didn't trigger antispam, I'm not fixing the missing blue

>>5560239
Fellow qm here

iirc 10 lines of the same word will count as spam

>>5560239
>>Maine is home turf. Grandpa will chip in to make it safe.
I reckon we'll have to be vigilant; and have good relations with neighbours

>>That guy buying stuff jogged your memory. Essentials for Maine!

>>5560239
>Maine is home turf. Grandpa will chip in to make it safe.
>If all else fails, Meryl needs to flee to the ocean with your child.
Expect the best, prepare for the worst.
>That guy buying stuff jogged your memory. Essentials for Maine!
I guess we need those.
>About that lingerie...
But imagination can still run wild.
Good read QM

I love breaking in new devices, enjoy an oversized update
>>5560274
>>5560366
>Maine is home turf. Grandpa will chip in to make it safe.
There was a gun range there, maybe Grandpa is a secret gun nut? You don't remember anything about that, but he seems like he would be interested. If nothing else, it would be one last hurrah back at his old home before he's finally too old to live there. He's one of those 'tough but fair' types, though he's a little weak for Alice's princess shenanigans. On the other hand, at least he recognizes you as an adult, whereas he treats her like she's still twelve. Talking Grandma into it might be harder- she's probably afraid the old man will try some kind of stunt or break his back doing work for a younger man. She's not one to be easily swayed, though she might find it good for bonding and such. But you don't need to dig trenches or set mines or anything. Just something simple, maybe putting up proximity cameras and re-enforcing doors. Grandpa has a basement he doesn't let anyone into- last you asked he dug it out during the Cold War and ever since he's been cycling supplies through it in case there's some sort of major emergency. A bugout room seems useful- and one that can hold up under nuclear fire doubly so.

But if things get really bad, Meryl needs to go to the ocean with any child you have. Pursuing her underwater would be impossible for them. When you mention it, she pulls away only to put her hands on your chest and stare directly at you. [blue]"No."[/blue] It's a firm declaration, and one that's repeated when you give your rationalization. [blue]"No!"[/blue] She looks around at her sudden yelling and relaxes by testing the flexibility of your shirt's fabric. Taking two handfuls of light blue polo, she gives her own reason. [blue]"I'm not running away. If they come for us, I'm fighting beside you."[/blue] [green]Not even if there's a child?[/green] She's on the verge of yelling again, but settles for a whisper. [blue]"Alex, our child is going to be human. Even if I didn't 'go human' myself, they wouldn't be able to come with me."[/blue] ...You didn't even think about that. You assumed that the Dagonian side was expressive due to how it's been expressed in Meryl.

>That guy buying stuff jogged your memory. Essentials for Maine!
You'll need to revisit that, but for now you try and calm Meryl down by changing the subject- basic goods neither of you has. Utensils, materials, bedsheets. Her panic becomes irritation. [blue]"I'm not stuffing more in the back of the cars. Those things are already packed up."[/blue] Geez, way to put you in a bind. [green]Then we can just list them as wedding gift suggestions or something. Or keep a list of what we want for later.[/green] [blue]"We're probably going to need new stuff anyway. I had to toss my old toaster oven, that thing was getting pretty dank."[/blue] [green]Bake enough fish in that thing...[/green] She tugs on your cheek.

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Cool, it treated me as a new IP. Enjoy the format breaking.

Floor two, household goods. Most of this stuff looks completely useless, if you're being perfectly honest. Who needs a special device to boil eggs? You can see a toaster for toasting bread or bagels, but why eggs? On the theme of breakfast gadgets, microwaved bacon is heresy. Thankfully, Meryl drags you along to textiles before you get too deep into wondering about that. Plush pillows, Egyptian cotton sheets, all that jazz. Man, it was your suggestion and you're still getting sticker shock.
>Changed my mind... besides all this, a good mattress runs a couple grand. Can't we use what's already there?
Meryl tosses a feather-filled pillow in your direction for you to catch.
"Alex, I'm not sleeping on a bed your mother was conceived in." ...She makes a convincing argument. Wait, wouldn't they have replaced it at some point? Still, by the time your brain unclenches, she's already moved on.

"I don't know much about interior decoration, but green and brown go together, right?" She holds up a lamp with a green base.
>Yup.
You don't actually know either, but it sounds right, so you go for it. Your intuition says brown, especially natural wood, forms a natural feel when paired with green. And there's plenty of wood in that old cabin. The tables are all wood, everything looks like it was carved half a century ago. Works fine, but a bit old to be sure. Maybe you will have to purchase new stuff. But even if it needs some major redecoration or repairs, it's still a free house. Actually, that's a good way to get Grandpa out there in the first place- Grandma would be happy to have him ensure it's a cozy home for the new couple, you're sure. Yeah, pitching it like that works, so long as you make sure he doesn't do things like check the roof.

Thinking of Mom's dad makes you wonder about Dad's father. Cheery. Big. Probably cut his life short by his lifestyle. A bit irresponsible. Big fun. Daryl didn't like him too much, but Daryl has always been neurotic. You've been told you share a resemblance. Based on photos, that holds up, but it just seems odd to think about the old pilot as if he were some sort of monster hunter in his free time. He seems more like the kind of guy who would be a Dungeon Master than kick down doors. There was one image you saw of him with some other military buddies from back in the day, but his military service was essentially all administrative work. He was a professional paper-pusher, checking budgets and serving wherever someone else was out. Losing his command over the family's money made him cut back his spending, but he was still an officer. This is sticking in your craw mentally- he was good at finances, so why was Woodsman Works bleeding cash until Dad took over?

You put that aside when Meryl asks you to look at a throw rug.
>Tye-dye?
Your expression causes her to huff and drop the rug before giving you puppy-dog-eyes.
>Maybe.
She beams.

(2/3)

(3/3)

There's a pause when Meryl passes by a cradle and brushes the side of it wistfully. Your raised eyebrow gets her defensive again. "It's still too early to be thinking about things like that, I was just..." You wait for the end of that sentence, but it doesn't arrive. After another half-minute or so of her saying nothing and the two of you looking back and forth, she just lets the topic drop as if she hadn't said anything. Women.

By the end of this little escapade, you're several thousand dollars into thankfully theoretical debt. It's a pretty long list of possible gifts.
>We should probably wean this down a bit.
She takes the pillow she threw at you and puts it and a plain white pillowcase on the checkout counter, going back on her previous claim of 'no buying anything'. "We can cut down another time. We're not buying anything but this for the moment." She presses her cheek into the pillow with a blissful expression. But if she's going to buy something, you need to press the attack.

>About that lingerie...
You know, if she's looking for good pairings, red hair and pink goes together well. Besides, nobody could tell if she was wearing it under her ordinary t-shirt and jeans. Rather than get flustered, your wife leans forward and puts the idea back on you. "Who says I'm not?" You know she's baiting you, but the possibility... Damn! You've been outmaneuvered! You need to think up an excuse to buy some as a gift, but... going without her to a shop would give the wrong impression. What is she, F-cup?

Pondering ideas to convince Meryl to prove she's clad in lace, you cast an aside glance to the mall and see who else but Alice a floor down, chatting up a man who is way older than her. Something like twice her age, thirty or forty. At least he seems appropriately embarrassed, keeping her at an arm's distance and looking to leave: Even then, you get the impulse to drive a fist through his face. Your sister's eighteen, she can do what she likes. That's what you'd like to say to yourself, but there's only so much you can tolerate her ever-expanding range of impulsive, self-destructive behavior. Only she could manage to make a date with your wife about herself by accident.

---
>Oh no! Anyway... You'll leave her to get out of her own trouble.
>You have to do something... Just confirm it's her and then text Dad.
>Find a reason to happen to pass by. Maybe she'll spook if she sees you.
>Enough of this shit. You're reading her the riot act personally.
>[Write-In]

>>5566936
>Alex, I'm not sleeping on a bed your mother was conceived in.
pffft hahaha

now, regarding the sister, hmmm...

>Find a reason to happen to pass by. Maybe she'll spook if she sees you.
do we even need an excuse? what's wrong with just innocently saying hi to sis? maybe she needs a hand with something after all.

>>5566939
>Find a reason to happen to pass by. Maybe she'll spook if she sees you.
Agreed. Meryl got us good this time. And damn, F-cup?

>Cool, it treated me as a new IP. Enjoy the format breaking.
It's actually tied to cookies, not IP. Or maybe both? I'm not entirely sure.

>>5566939
>Find a reason to happen to pass by. Maybe she'll spook if she sees you.

Not our fault we're here. Let's see how good Alice is at digging her own metaphorical grave.

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>>5566986
>>5567866
>>5570724
Your sister barely even looks your way when Meryl and you pass by to check out some jewelry. Your wife takes a good look at the man Alice is infatuated with and tilts her head. He's got faint grey to his light hair, but is a fairly physically fit older man, complete with neatly trimmed circle beard. He could pass for a a university professor, especially given his vaguely European, obviously courteous accent. Is that Russian? German? Polish, maybe?

"I appreciate the gesture, young lady, but I really do have to go sooner or later. Besides, it seems improper for me to take a gift from a stranger." His evasive eyes and off-facing posture make it clear that he's struggling to break off this conversation without being rude.

"Just a meal!" she protests, brushing her chin with the back of her hand and fixing her hair. Good Lord, woman, you mind hiding that begging tone in your voice? "Come on, I know some good places here."

"Good? Here? That would be an accomplishment." His incredulous response causes Meryl to snort, and when Alice shoots a classic mean girl glare she freezes up seeing you. There's a moment where she makes pleading, tearful eyes, the pitiful expression of a girl who knows she's caught but wants her older brother to save his poor helpless sister. Oh, no, she's not getting bailed out of this one. The older man processes what's going on and steps back. "Ah, it seems you have... friends?" he hazards aloud. "And I already have a meal reserved, if I'm being honest. I'm meeting the son of a friend for business."

"Son of a friend?" That puts him in his forties, minimum. Alice bites her thumbnail and tries to salvage the conversation with a desperate Hail Mary. "Does your friend live here? Do you know the Woodsman family?"

"I suppose you could say that?" the older man juggles what he's saying in return, and when he scratches his brow you see a silver ring on his right hand. The same size as the one you saw for Yggdrasil.... But that can't be, can it? "Woodsman... I know that name vaguely, but that was... Eighty-nine?"

Alice's flirting enters an extremely entertaining death spiral, as even she realizes this is going to end badly. She even ponders withdrawing, from her gritted teeth and darting eyes. Still, she plays her last card frantically. "19...89? You don't look a day past thirty." Great save, idiot.

The courteous foreigner beams. "Thank you, I'm about to enter my fifty-third year." Alice's jaw drops, her face drains, her eyes glaze over. Meryl has to turn her back and laugh into her cupped hands. Your international guest takes the cue to go while everyone's distracted. "That'sthetimesosorrygoodbye," he dips out, making a beeline for the nearest exit with a relieved expression. Your sister's shoulders slump. Her despair at having tried to seduce a man three times her age in front of her brother fully sinks in. You savor the moment as your wife explodes into peals of laughter.

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(2/2)

Meryl hasn't been able to stand on her own power for the last minute and a half, anchoring herself to you as she almost falls over from all the giggling. "You were going to buy him a meal?"

"W-why are you laughing?" Alice whines in her best wounded puppy tone and looks to you for sympathy. "Aren't you supposed to feel sorry for me?"

"NO!" Meryl guffaws, shaking her head.
>FUCK no, that's all on you.
That routine might have worked when you were sixteen, but she wore it out over half a decade.

"You're so mean!" Alice pouts, on the verge of tears that you know are feigned- it's actually kind of impressive she can cry on command. Once it goes nowhere, she sneers and trades off to more direct manipulation. "So what if I have a type? I need emotional support! You know, from my family!" Back to unattainable mean girl. Clearly, she's put in the time to develop her gold-digging.
>What you 'need' is therapy. Or maybe prison time.
"Fuck you, asshole!"
>Case in point.
Growling impotently, Alice storms off in a huff.

Meryl finally composes herself. "Okay, that was hilarious, but we need to get back to making sure our family line doesn't turn into a family crash. Obviously, it's not something we can outsource."
>I dunno, do you have any rich cousins? Innsmouth millionaires?
"Not any richer than your family, I'm sure." But that's not a no... "Speaking of family, now that gifts are lined up, we can work on guests. Really, we should have done guests first, but given we're going to be buying anything they don't gift us, I guess it works out."

Meryl rolls ideas around in her head as you wander the mall. "Your family seems obvious, but I don't have anyone other than my parents, honestly. Most of my mother's family is probably too afraid of Dad to press any claims."
>Your mom's dad is...
"Dead, yes. Dad made a 'fish fry' joke, but Mom said he was human, and it was more like his head exploded anyway." By the way she looks at the floor, Meryl's serious. Holy shit. "Grandpa was head of a cult, but Dad immediately abdicated. They didn't like that. I lost three uncles before they took the hint."
>Can we change the subject?
"Oh, sorry." She wheels back to her usual carefree nature, even though a dysfunctional family is clearly standard for her. "Basically, the guest list is all yours."
Last you checked, your former best friend Chase was driving across the country with your ex-girlfriend-turned-his-wife, so while you'd love to reach out, your instincts tell you he's in no state to reply in the positive... Even if it were a good idea.

---
>This isn't the worst time to get Dad's mom back into the family.
>...You should probably invite some of Meryl's relatives before they invite themselves.
>Pete McCoy's an old friend. He's even in town.
>Meryl doesn't have any friends she can pull on? Who's her maid of honor?
>You have to at least send Chase a message. Even if Jessica ends up reading it.
>Daryl has a pen pal. Worth a shot.
>[Write-In]

>>5574256
>>This isn't the worst time to get Dad's mom back into the family.
what's the worst that could happen?
also consult Meryl on her relatives and friends
suppose Pete could work depending on how much we trust him
Chase... hmm, it feels a bit dickish to not invite him just because we don't want potential trouble. I say, if we end up inviting wider group of people, drop him a line as well. But it would maybe be better to keep the circle of invited a slim one.

>>5574256
>...You should probably invite some of Meryl's relatives before they invite themselves.
>Meryl doesn't have any friends she can pull on? Who's her maid of honor?

Time to do some work on Meryl's side of the show, if she's in the mood.

>>5574256
>This isn't the worst time to get Dad's mom back into the family.
>Meryl doesn't have any friends she can pull on? Who's her maid of honor?
Agreed on consulting Meryl on her relatives and inviting Pete and Chase if we do go for a wider circle, but so far it's just family on our side and it works fine if it stays that way.

>>5574362
>>5574719
>>5574857
Dad's mom... She's held the rest of your family at arm's length since you were a kid. The only member of the family she actually talks to is your father, her direct son, having divorced Granddad over his irresponsible behavior and especially his spending. She showed up for Dad's marriage, and her ex-husband is dead. This wedding would be the perfect excuse to break the ice. You just hope your own resemblance doesn't spur bad feelings. You put off actually calling her at first, because it's a bit out of the blue and you want to have Dad on the phone to help. She's a very laconic individual, so getting a 'yes' and then her hanging up would be almost as bad as a 'no' and then a slammed door.

Pete would definitely show up. You got a bit of your sense of humor by following him, but he's always been a bit less focused or disciplined than you. As a result, you always had a slight strength edge over him. He's married, though. He's probably not up for anything extreme when it comes to bachelor parties on account of that, but he's in town. In terms of texting or calling, he's closest. His delay in response will give you time to ask Meryl another, perhaps more urgent question.

>What about your maid of honor? Don't you have a best friend or a relative who fits the part?

She squirms on the matter for a bit, as if she hadn't really thought about it. "Um... I think the closest match would probably be one of my relatives. She's out from the middle of nowhere, though."
>Underwater?
"More like she's Alaskan."
>Well, at least she's not Canadian.
"Hey, I'm... Sure there are some nice Canadians... Somewhere." She actually snaps her fingers as that jogs her memory. "There IS a female relative who might be up for a little extra exposure."
>Phrasing.
"She's looking for a hubby herself. At least I'm assuming she is, given her whining about the fact that she's thirty-one and climbing. That one might not show, though- real workaholic- so the Alaskan is my first pick." Her text gets a response before yours does, and then another, and then another, and then three more. Meryl's face gets increasingly panicked the more she reads, and she refuses to pass any of it on. "The Alaskan it is. Seems my mom's side might be the less crazy branch." Always a bridesmaid... She continues to get texts, drumming in the point. "Are promises for future marriage legally binding? I guess it's different for magicians, but..."
>Well, I consider ours binding. Also, focus.

She pulls up a picture. "Vera Kátl. Her dad's an asshole, so we have that in common too. At least mine cares about me." She's Filipino? Maybe some kind of Native American? Probably that, if she's a native Alaskan. In any case, she's pretty. Not on Meryl's level, but she could probably pull a date.

Eventually, the response comes back. {Vera: Why not? I could use the change in scenery.} You also see a text from Meryl's other relative. {BZ: HES PROBABLY STILL CHASING THAT EGYPTIAN SKANK}

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Finally, McCoy's message returns as well. {McCoy: 'course! chase your 1st man?} When you tell him absolutely not, he understands your explanation- You can almost visualize him nodding, really. {McCoy: at least he finally got laid} You're not so sure about that, given your own experience, but it's really hard to think about that given the much better relationship you're in now. Better not to compare, or think about it at all. As it is, that delayed your invitation to Chase by at least another hour, or day, or week maybe. {McCoy: while you two are @ town, we can have you for the baseball game on Fri.} Oh yeah, Pete's the mascot, isn't he? That would be nice. Meryl wanted to go anyway, this is the perfect excuse.

As you work out the details, it seems like that actually came back positively. And after a little needling from Meryl about supposedly being scared of your ex, you work up the courage to text Chase. He begins typing, then stops, and then restarts several times. By the time he's finished, it's a small paragraph in one text. {Chase: I wish I could say yes, but it's more than just my wife... It's why we matched up in the first place. I'm serious when I found out some messed up stuff about myself. I really owe her for covering for me. It's not criminal, not really, but... Let's just say I can't talk about it.} Wait, is he Dagonian? You phrase it in a way that makes it ambiguous what Meryl is, just in case he's not clued into the supernatural. {Chase: No, not like her. Not really, anyway. We're kind of opposites.}
>{Opposite of a hereditary disease?}
What does he think Meryl is? {Chase: I have an STD. That's the best way to put it.} That's the BEST way to put it? What the fuck? Well, at least that settles the question of him showing up (no).

"Cool, we're hitting crazy critical mass," Meryl blows off the texts bothering her and shakes her head. "That's how this works- magic attracts magic and that sort of thing. My dad said it had something to do with the fact that magic lives outside the bounds of society so all magicians are essentially forced into the same narrow space." Yay destiny, complete with magic STDs. She gestures to the parking lot. "Let's go back home." It takes her a moment to correct, and she doesn't seem to mind the error, either. "I mean, to your parent's house."
>I know what you meant.
Holding her feels like completion.

---

"The new clan I sired just fled. I thought they would fight the other mating pair, but they didn't."
"You motherfuckers always insist on magical solutions to mundane problems. If something you want dead doesn't die after ten 5.56 rounds, you're probably fighting a dragon."
"So I'm a dragon now?"
"You're the only person I know that can get close enough to Cier to tear his head off. Last sniper I sent lived, but his eye didn't fix for months."

---
That'll be the end of the thread, I've delayed enough updates that I'll open a new thread for safety's sake. Archiving: Enjoy pic!

https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2023/5534759/
Next thread should be up this weekend. Hopefully I get fewer delays.

>>5578995
the plot thickens...

Thanks for the thread OP!

>>5578995
Cute pic. Looking forward to the next thread!