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Mergo snorted. “What, you thought you were invited?” he chided. Facetiously, of course. He let out a low sigh and rolled his eyes. “I guess this is the downside of being ‘friends’… Fine. Hell, if you’re inviting yourself, might as well ask everyone else while you’re at it. Set camp and light a...

Mergo answered with an amused snort. "The Hero, The Cauldron, The Grace... Aye. I've found a few restaurants by now." And one of them had even been nice to visit. "I think I've had my fill of them lately. At this point I'm more content to start a fire and just make some Vagrant's Soup again."

Mergo considered commenting on the strange way he said ‘personal,’ but held off. He didn’t want to bring attention to Owen’s lisp. “The opposite, actually,” Mergo answered. “Even down to teleporting in front of you and turning my weapon into a branch. Leaving myself exposed. You’re not the only...

"Ideally." He caught the ends of the fronds, letting them float just above his palm. They only burned him a little, but he was used to the heat. "Doesn't always work that way, but... Well. I do what I can. And I don't think you're interested anyways." Half the time, even he wasn't. "More...

The handoff was completed, and Mergo let go and took a step back. The branch didn't feel like wood. Its icy surface sapped at the heat in Owen's scales, but such was normal. It didn't crumble, it didn't burst into sparkling confetti, it didn't even explode. "Settled in a single move," he...

"Look pretty," he answered simply. "There's a story that I picked up on my travels, but it's a dull one. Unnecessary. It's a symbol for truce. And, well, it's supposed to be part of a tree. I thought you'd appreciate it." Although he'd never actually seen someone hand out an actual olive...

Berries. Elixirs. Mergo carried them out of habit, and he would have been shocked if Owen had ran out of them. He could have insisted… but then it wouldn’t be the same. None of the setup he needed. The corners of his mouth raised into a tiny smile as he looked down to the pendant and scarf...

“… What?” he blade evaporated to stardust as Mergo almost started to step back. This wasn’t going according to plan. Owen was supposed to love fighting. Even if their nonsensical powers were gone, they still had something to work with. Enough. They had enough for it to work. Did Owen see...

“I’m just fine,” Mergo answered, giving the beginnings of a tight-lipped grin that held the tiniest shred of humor. Maybe he even meant it. Perhaps it hit harder for Owen because he had an example of how time could change someone just ahead of him. Spectrum’s Owen was a different beast...

"When you killed me, Owen," he stressed. Reviver seeds might have prevented that from meaning anything, but it had been a decisive loss despite everything Mergo had thrown. "And everything you said after that. It's... I've had a long time to reflect on that." He folded his arms again and leaned...

Relenting a bit, Mergo raised his hands to offer Owen a short round of applause. Even if his abilities made that feat far less impressive than it looked, it was still an accomplishment. And terrifying. "Mm. So I can speak normally now," Mergo replied. "Apologies for neglecting most of you until...

"... Make it quick. I'm not here to just sit back and watch." Why was he humoring Owen? He'd seen how this would play out with everyone else before. He'd been through this song and dance across two and a half worlds now. Any more of this and Owen would be halfway to defusing why Mergo came here...

"It's a sight," Mergo deadpanned. "It seems you like to play with toys, but so many at once? Perplexing." He folded his arms across his chest and tapped an impatient finger on his forearm.

The door creaked slowly open, more out of politeness than anything else, as Mergo emerged into the room. Owen had to have seen his arrival coming a hundred yards away, making no effort to hide a cold sense of purpose. Tense but certain. It wavered, however, and Mergo blinked as he took in the...