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- Adrian Montbell says, "Get away from her, Gareth."
- They're sitting on the bench, eating some candy.
- (Penelope)
- Gareth stares at Adrian for a time, then peers back to Penelope.
- "It's fine if you want to think that way or not, I don't know. I don't. I just want to get some closure regarding that is all."
- Gareth draws to a stand.
- "Another thing. I'll say it this time since I didn't before."
- He stares her dead in the eye. And from his mouth, the kindest words any one man can offer.
- "I forgive you. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't make things right is all. Things can-- never go back to the way it was since I know how you feel about--" he stops, peering over to Adrian now for another fleeting moment, then back on to the woman.
- "Him. But that's fine. I just-- want you to be happy, alright? So, please. Take good care of yourself, Penelope."
- (Gareth Atherton)
- The scholar's eyebrow twitched.
- He took a few slow steps forwards, wisps of wind gathering around his feet. Clouds began to gather above and before long the sound of thunder pierced the ears of those who had been unfortunate enough to be in the general proximity. A pillar of lightning struck the ground next to red-headed savant, searing the ground below as pieces of cobblestone flew into the air.
- "You forgive her?" He flashed forwards in a display of monumental speed as arcs of electricity danced around the ground beneath him. He stopped in front of the man without quite touching him. Steel blue eyes seemed to glow a powerful cyan, the electricity surrounding him only amplifying the intensity of his gaze.
- "Are you delusional? Daft? Illiterate?"
- He couldn't help himself.
- A switch had flipped. The storm was brewing at a rapid pace, and it only grew stronger with each passing second.
- Violence.
- It was a thing that the scholar loathed. A thing that he regularly disregarded. A thing that he did not normally indulge in. The scholar had come to realize that there were some things that could not be articulated through the tongue. Some things that could not be written onto a piece of parchment. It took every ounce of his being to stop him from striking the man where he stood.
- "Leave, Gareth. I'll not ask again."
- (Adrian Montbell)
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