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[8th_castellan]

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

Ramon Salazar is on the war path.

Deadpool can do that to a person.

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[h_hollister]

And not far behind him is Hips. She's not being timid, nor is she approaching him aggressively. She's learned by now that the best way to deal with his temper tantrums is to let him get the worst of it out of his system, and THEN approach him.

As such, she's trying to tidy up after him as best as she can, righting furniture...or at least getting all the pieces together for easy disposal later.

Sigh.

[8th_castellan]

Later, the one thing he might regret about this is how, in his recklessness, a few tossed items were damaged or destroyed. Everything in this castle is valuable to him, after all; irreplaceable pieces of his home and history.

Ramon is protective and passionate about anything linked to his family. Thus, the reason he has gone completely nuclear.

The screams go from nothing but bestial roaring, shouting curses against Deadpool both in Spanish and English, and swearing to get back at him for this. The direction Ramon's rampage takes him seems to have little or no reason behind it; he's completely blind in his rage and is only tearing about because he cannot keep still.

[h_hollister]

She's thinking that, too, honestly. Which is why she's being so careful to save what she can. Although the sideboard that goes flying through the air suddenly is beyond her. It splinters and cracks and hits the floor in a pile of shattered glass and wood. Well, that's not fixable.

If this goes on for much longer, she might have to intervene. Somehow. Too soon, though, and he's likely to say or do something that he'll regret.

Ah, the simple joys of being with a homicidal 'monster'.

[8th_castellan]

The enraged cries soon stop, as do the stomping footsteps and sounds of tossed furniture. If Hips is brave enough to round the next corner and enter the next room, she'll see her beloved standing rigidly still at the other door that exists this sitting room.

His fists are balled at his sides, and he is not as still as one might have suspected at a first glance; his entire body trembles with pent-up rage and his chest rises and falls in deep, seething breaths. His eyes are a solid, deep red and are fixed angrily on the door before him. Seeming unable to go beyond this threshold, perhaps only angered even more by his mysterious inability to do so.

If Hips takes the time to examine her surroundings, she will probably recognize this room he now stands in. It's one that leads to the art gallery, where the portraits of his ancestors hang.

[8th_castellan]

He doesn't make an immediate beeline for the catacombs; instead, he goes first to his bed chambers, washing himself hastily and drawing out a fresh change of clothes. His coat stays behind, spread on his bed. The jewelry is withdrawn from the pocket and placed instead in another; one of the ones on the pair of breeches he now wears

[h_hollister]

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

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

"I don't get it," she says up to them, not realizing how she might be echoing HIS conversation down below. "I just don't get it. He knows the source, he knows it's Wade! He knows it's just to get a rise out of him and he reacts anyway. Why doesn't he understand? Why can't he just ignore it? Doesn't he know how I'm trying to keep him s-safe? Doesn't he know it's just a dumb joke? Why does this happen every time? Please, please, I want him to stop this. This is going to get him hurt! I c-can't stand seeing him hurt! And then he blames me, ME! And he's right to. It's all my fault. Because I fell in love with

[8th_castellan]

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

[h_hollister]

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

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

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

[h_hollister]

{'M trying. 'M trying. S'so hard. Needed to do this for a long time...}

A feeble hand is reaching for the blanket behind her, trying to cover her shame in more ways than one. Her other arm is wrapped around his knees, while she continues to sob into his thighs.

{I always feel like I've let you down. I feel like I'm never good enough. And this...this whole thing, just felt like confirmation of it. I knew you loved me, but I thought you were bored with me. Done with me. Hated me, too. I'm so stupid, Ramon. I just...I keep looking for perfection and then I freak out when I don't get it. I know you're here. I know you love me. I know it all in my head...but my heart keeps telling me that you're going to be gone someday. And it'll be all my fault...}

Same old rehash of what she was saying before, same old neurotic picking at the scab. A good portion of the blame for this situation rests quite squarely on her, honestly. Fifty percent, to be honest. Because this is exactly how she reacts to stress, every time. If he

[8th_castellan]

His answer, after holding her still through all of her crying and confessions, is to kneel, pick up her blanket and drape it over Hippolyta, then pick her up; one arm under her knees, the other around her back. He stands with little trouble, cradling her close to him, kissing her forehead before he turns and starts walking towards the door with purpose.

{Come. I'll take you to bed and show you just how little I'm tired of you. I worship you, Hippolyta. You're what keeps me steady and sane, and all you have to do is be near me. You are more than good enough for me, and then some. I don't deserve someone like you, Hippolyta. You are perfect, flaws and all. You are just the person I need by my side, and I intend to keep it that way until we're both old and...heh, well, old.}

The disproportionate strength he has stored in his slight frame makes carrying her down the halls and corridors of the castle an easy task, and he continues to whisper lovingly to her through their sonic language all the way to their destination.

[h_hollister]

She answers him by resting her head on his shoulder and moaning softly, just surrendering to his sonic 'words' and reassurances.

When he reaches the part about old and the unspoken 'grey', she chuckles softly through her tears.

{I love your hair, mi amor. I've always loved it.}

Then she subsides again, one finger playing with the grey ponytail that hangs over his opposite shoulder. She's still shivering, still crying, but seems a bit calmer. Not as hysterical. This is exactly the sort of thing that she's been craving for so long; affection and tender loving care. It's like dunking herself in a warm bath after being out in the snow. It hurts, but it also feels so good.

She's no longer sore from their earlier tryst, but it's still lingering in her mind. Goodness. That wasn't like anything else they'd ever experienced. She's not sure, however, that she'd ever like to do that again. Having angry sex was just not in her lexicon.

[8th_castellan]

He'll probably mull over what Hips is currently thinking later tonight when she falls asleep. And might have to admit to her later that he did kind of like it. He just doesn't enjoy what seems to have to occur beforehand to get it started. Oh well; now they've done it so they can at least say they've done it.

Or...not, seeing that he's repeatedly chagrined every time Hips has to reveal details about their sex life to others. Like she's been doing lately with JP. He considers for a second bringing that up...but then figures that can wait. Right now, the need for tenderness and affection is far more pressing than airing more grievances.

Instead, he smiles down at her, just as he's nudging open the door that'd lead to his bed chambers. Hoping he can see a smile of her own.

{You're beautiful.}