So here is Roy, Sunday lunch time, home alone, bored, irritated, riddled with restlessness, he can’t even have a wank to take the edge off because each time he tries he is haunted by images of things Saoirse might be doing with Brandon the Bumpkin. He makes himself a cheese sandwich that he abandons after only one bite because it tastes like a used condom stuck between two pieces of cardboard and tries to ring Joël, again, he’s been trying to ring him for the past 2 hours, except Joël still has his stupid phone switched off. Roy doesn’t know why Joël even has a phone, he never bothers to answer it. Roy is tempted to ring him on the landline except Joël’s mother might answer it; Roy is a tiny bit afraid of Joël’s mother, not that he’d ever admit it to Joël or anybody else, but there are times he’s almost been convinced she doesn’t like him, as ridiculous as that sounds. He doesn’t really need to talk to Joël all that much, anyway, he’ll see him at school tomorrow. He might go for a swim. That should clear his head and cool him down a bit. It’s probably this humid weather making him feel unsettled and out of sorts.

He swims half a dozen cleansing laps, the effort required to churn through the cool azure water rinsing his mind of all other thought. Then he hears his name being called. He lifts his head and shakes the water out of his eyes to see Saoirse standing at the edge of the pool, wearing a long floral dress, completely still. He wonders how long she’s been watching him. He waves and smiles. She doesn’t move. He hauls himself out of the water and walks over to her.  Then he stops, falters. She still hasn’t smiled.

Saoirse: Roy, we need to talk.



Three weeks later….

…..and Roy is alone in the house on an unseasonably warm Sunday afternoon. His father and Douglas have gone out hunting rabbits with several of their neighbours and won’t be back before dark. Georgina has gone to a friend’s place, and his mother Bunty is helping out at the church fête, telling Roy on her way out the door that she won’t be home until dinner time. It’s Saoirse’s day off and she has elected to spend it with her boyfriend, a buck-toothed hayseed named Brandon who works as a farm hand. Actually Roy hasn’t seen Brandon to know whether he is buck-toothed or not, but he’s a farm hand so chances are he’s an ignorant, inbred country bumpkin, and undeserving of a beautiful girl like Saoirse, even though Saoirse has tried to explain to Roy that Brandon isn’t her boyfriend, she’s just been on a couple of dates with him, and there is no reason for Roy to be jealous. Roy had snorted that he wasn’t jealous, why would he be jealous, he has plenty of girls so it would be hypocritical of him to  be jealous, not to mention that he is not a jealous person, he’s too evolved for that shit. 

And Saoirse had stroked his cheek and given him that long, searching stare of hers, the one that always makes him feel hot and naked, but not in a horny way. In an uncomfortable, vulnerable way.


It’s nearly 2.30 am, Britney warbling from the stereo: Every time I try to fly
I fall without my wings I feel so small I guess I need you baby… 

Roy stares at his watch through sleep-crusted eyelids and then at Damo lying on the floor at his feet, whose violent snoring probably woke him up. And every time I see you in my dreams I see your face, you’re haunting me… I guess I need you baby… The lyrics of the song force him off the couch and propel him towards the open garage door, past the front of his parents’ house, dark and silent, past the silvery pond where the tractor gently slumbers in the moonlight, past the barn to Saoirse’s bedroom window, rapping on it with his knuckles until he hears her muffled cursing. He dashes round the side of the guesthouse to the front door, peering through the glass, rattling the door handle.

Finally she opens it, his goddess in purple satin pyjamas. He takes a deep breath.

Roy: I see you in my dreams, Saoirse. Your face….actually, that’s bullshit. It’s your boobs that haunt my dreams. But yeah…I need you, baby.
Saoirse: What have you been smoking, Roy?
Roy: I dunno. Ask Damo. Anyway, you need to listen. Saoirse? I just came here to say…I love you. I do. That’s the real me talking. I really, really do. I. LOVE. YOU.

Then he turns and races back to the house.


heeeeres yamatos daughter, the diviner saoirse! (pronounced sehr-shay. it’s irish, yo)

class: diviner
advanced class: onmyouji, basara
alignment: corrins army

(it’s possible for yamato to s rank with male units, and in that case, saoirse is his adopted daughter)

saoirse spent her time in the deeprealms with little actual contact with her father, yamato, due to his busy schedule. however, he would often send her letters and tome-taken photos of the places he’s been on business, and during the war. these mementos gave her a great desire to see the outside world.

saoirse wears a traditional hoshidan diviner costume, in mahogany and green. her beads, however, are made of nohrian cedar. like her father, she has a love for both nations and wants to see the war over with quickly. the clips on the vest of her outfit are gifts from yamato.

saoirse is precocious, charming, and personable. unfortunately, she didn’t inherit her fathers charismatic business demeanor, so it’s easy to scam her out of all her money and belongings. this is also due to the fact that she is very trusting and cant sense imminent danger. she’s also very concerned with her looks and enjoys makeup and changing her hairstyles.