That warlocks outfit hardly allowed him that easy movements as his usual attire, hugging in places to limit the movement of his legs... that dreadful tie would forever be the bane of his existence. He hated having that dreadful thing around his neck, chocking him like a god damn noose. How he had been foolish to think that he could spend a few hours without having to fend off yet another demonic creature. So much for that damn promise that he would keep his problem from falling upon the royal's pristine doorstep. It was only... like not even an hour?? He had no right making those promises he simply couldn't keep. He had no right to sit amongst kings... he was a no good scoundrel.. always had been always will be and yet.... That was his way and would conveniently forget from time to time.

That valiant battle had been fought... bravely. Could it have gone better? Yes...... ten times over. He hadn't expected to be joined by everyone, not in the slightest. That shadow steel had certainly had been a blessing in disguise, such a blade would probably garner a pretty coin. Brennan had no intention to sell the blade and yet how he could not prevent that thought all the same. It already quickly seemed to rise to one of his prized possessions. He was a simple man... after all, well sort of.

Brennan probably would have been able to fight off this beast on his own... eventually.. but at what cost to that home? He hardly wished to find out. Serafina's aid was most certainly appreciated... surprised that she had come... for him.. especially with the company of royalty to entertain her. How little did he anticipate that she was the deciding factor to gather the... troops. But she was also fanned air to the flames, breeding chaos into chaos. Those poltergeists after all, had their own agendas. A lover scorned.... And whatever the Italian one wanted. He recognized that anger in him, noticing how he took arms beside himself. He was not going to question it, eager to simply take all the damn help he could get in containing this demonic creature. However, the one that caused the most damage was the woman ghost.... She took to reducing that room into nothing but splintered, sad, broken instruments. They could have done without her, he was sure, but at the very least she was damn well entertaining as she was... terrifying. How feisty. That damage would have to be ignored for now, those dead instruments lay upon that battlefield, never to play another note again. But genuine, caring Kings and friends could not be replaced.... Even if they were helpless with a tire. Neither could princes... even terrifyingly good-looking ones like Sebastian. How he hoped that book could bring an end.. to all of this madness. Somehow. How blissfully unaware the warlock was of the emotions of worry that unsettled within the royals. Serafina perhaps picking up more so upon those exciting details.

Brennan's shouting seemed to do little from deterring the beast from his surefooted assault. It honed upon the king with a complete fixation that was often reserved for the warlock himself. That cursed mark often saw sure to that. Yet neither were close enough to stop that attack of monster and fae, save for him. Fortunately, Brennan was just close enough to plunge that blade just as that blinding white light flooded the room. What the hell? It hardly stopped that impeccably timed assault of that deadly shadow cutlass heaved into the beast's spine (or something).... Or at least..... he attempted... he had to close his own eyes from the blinding light. Was that coming from Dorian? The beast itself? He hardly knew in those precarious moments. It hardly seemed to matter because the demon seemed to be rendered nothing but a sudden heap upon the ground. Was that the work of his blade? Was his... aim that true? Or was It Dorian?

The bewildered warlock opened his eyes only see a dead creature, with his blade still inside, his body still positioned in that action shot. As if he had.... Slayed the beast. Dorian, Sera, and even Sebastian all safe. Sure the room had certainly seen better days.. there wasn't a damn thing left untouched or entirely obliteration to shards of wood and snapped strings. Brennan pulled his blade back... utterly perplexed as he peered at it blood stained steel. It shouldn't have been a killing blow. Right? Or maybe... it was? He hardly seemed to know. The voice of Dorian broke his reverie as the declaration that it was the warlock that had been the reason for its death.

Those silvery blue eyes peer across the fallen insect monster, eyebrows risen in a perpetual look of surprise. How sure the king was! So very sure... the conviction could be heard in his voice..... that not an ounce of doubt could bleed through. Surely... it had been him and perhaps... the blade had worked better than expected. Regardless, he declared that blade to be his permanently. What a gift that was! "Dorian.. I...." His smooth irish brogue tinted words... seemed to fall.. and yet.... Even though he wasn't sure if it was actually him. Was it not better for them all to think that he did? After all, he had basically led this creature right to them, put their very lives in danger by his presence alone. Perhaps this was the only way to avoid making enemies. Or better yet... maybe it actually was him. Yes, he could believe that. A sudden proud smile spread across the warlock's lips, he did it! Everyone was... safe... Serafina might even believe him even to be a hero too. There was certainly no wrong to the benefits of that. Yeah, that right... she arrived on the arm of a hero. A hero to the monarchy. It certainly had a ring to it if you asked him.

Before another word could be uttered Dorian slipped around the creature, running to the waiting arms of his husband with absolute relief. Love... could be seen within the two men in that moment. Hell, the moment could have even been dubbed, touching. He allowed him that embrace in private before crossing that distance between Serafina and himself. Afterall, she was his person in that room.

It would seem the dead hardly let that moment rest. That Italian ghost seeming to be the loudest of the two in that decimated room. He didn't speak Italian to know that those words were...... not friendly. Was that an attribute of the Italian language to always sound like you are yelling? Or was just Alphonso?

Dorian's words drew Brennan's attention towards him as he stood near Serafina. Even next to his lover, he looked every bit a kingly type. A brief smirk of amusement overtook his roguish features... a mirth filled belly laugh soon tore from him all at once. His silvery blue eyes shone resiliently. "Serafina.... Definitely has her devilish moments.." The warlock turned his head to cast his witch a devious glance before returning his attentions back toward the royals.

"As for.. the other bit. I have to admit.. that is the first time anyone thought... I of all people should be in a position of high regard.." How it seemed to amuse him far more than it should that he forgot just about the other things. After all it fed into his already inflated ego. Serafina would likely not hear the end of it. It didn't matter that he would have made a terrible general.. that pirate the worst at following protocol... or orders for that matter. Although... they didn't need to know that now. "I don't understand a word he says.. but I think I like him.." How Brennan didn't know any better.... But anyone that seemed to fight by his side... and declare him a general.... Well they seemed okay in his books. Did he bow at him? Or what did he say? It seemed impolite to ignore Alphonzo after such a compliment. Brennan offered the strangely dressed ghost a strange nod/bow if his head. "Thank you, friend." He boasted. Did a ghost have that kind of pull? As far as Brennan was concerned, his puffed his chest out as if he was. No one.. needn't know the truth if he wasn't.

IT was then that Dorian sent the ghosts away.... Sadly... It would have been quite the show to watch the royal's bicker with those figments. After all, they both seemed to have a lot to say.

For once.. Serafina did as she was asked, those ghosts disappearing and that emotive reaction from the vampire prince.... Was hardly expected. Brennan seemed utterly confused even though he was all but gloating from the notion of Alfonzo's highest compliment. That and he seemed to relish in Serafina's attention as she grabbed his hand. He leaned into her... enjoying the warmth of her figure even though he had no right to.

With a little bit of his usual bravado, the Irish pirate uttered in that carefree tone. "Thank you, my king. For your aid and the tea. I am humbly sorry... for the mess.." Because... why couldn't he be his king? He was certainly the nicest king he had ever met, let alone, the only one. Those final words he parted Dorian with after he walked them out... fortunately leaving the distraught vampire behind. The book and blade would be put to good use, at the least. But he had the sneaking suspicion he would not be invited back.... For tea again. "Well as always... its been fun saving you again.." He uttered once more to Dorian, offering him that roguish, charming smile.

The witch and warlock soon took that moment to steal their leave... After all, that angry vampire would hardly be complacent for long and he wanted those ghosts back. Serafina hardly seemed... willing to comply, at least to him, willing to listen to King Dorian's desire to banish them to their ghostly realm. Brennan clutched tightly to his own blade.... And then the beautiful woman at his side. He didn't have a chance.... But... he could at least pretend and steal but an extra squeeze he felt he earned considering he..... somehow saved the king. In his mind, he won the woman too.. at least for a fleeting moment. For once. The pirate seemed to climb on top... even if only it was an illusion.

He leaned into Serafina with a devilish grin after that entrance door was closed behind them, he saw a slew of guards rushing inside from another entrance.. how late they were to the festivities... "Well.. that could have gone worse.... You can call me General from now on.. How do you feel about being my lieutenant?" That thick baritone Irish lilt almost... uttered flirtatiously knowing very well the reaction his efforts would earn him. How little he cared.

Brennan O'Connell