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Verbena had always been described as a lush, thick environment with trees covering the mountain sides and rivers twisting through the peaceful valleys that made up the man-made planet. Even if she was just part of the fourth generation to be born on the planet, every square inch of it was rooted deep in Gwendolyn's system. She had lived and breathed running the deer trails chasing after her brothers or swimming in the creeks on the family farm. Maybe it was the reason that she picked it when she got to the Sensoriums- something familiar after the first few days of being on the living ship.

It was a warm summer day on the grounds. Nothing was there that should have been, the horses, the cattle, people milling about working or even her family enjoying tea on the back porch of the plantation style home. All the windows were up and the front door was open allowing the music to spill outward for anyone that wished to investigate. The house was of a simple design and almost out of a picture book of the Old South back on Earth-that-was. It was in the library that the red headed Browncoat was located standing in the middle of the empty room surrounded by history that no one else aside from her probably would care about again. Her bow danced across the strings drawing the notes out from what could easily be a happy tune to something more quieter or sadder depending on the temperament of the listener. The clothing of choice? Not her plantsuit or what bits of uniform that she had, but her dress uniform with rank bars in red on the long coat sleeves.

So lost in the music was she that she probably wouldn't have heard anyone approach if they wanted. Musicians or curious folk alike were welcome, she was in a seemingly good mood enough to talk about what the place was if anyone wanted to.

[ooc: It looks like LJ isn't let me link to the youtube vid of the song she's playing, but it's the Ashoken Farewell.]

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A man approached across the yard, carrying a cloth wrapped cross almost as large as he was, if not slightly larger, mass-wise. The stranger was puffing on a cigarette, and wearing a rosary and shades that stood out from his plantsuit. He waited a few moments, absorbing the music and atmosphere. At a lull in the music, he finally spoke.

"You play beautifully, little miss." His accent was American/Asian with a hint of the old south, almost as if he was a traveler from her own world, though common sense would dictate no one of her world would carry such a gaudy symbol of religion. "This place looks like the ones I've seen back home, so I thought I'd drop by, see if anyone wanted to talk." With that last statement, he took a puff of his smoke.

The uniformed woman, all dressed in brown, spun on her heel toward the voice as if she hadn't heard him approach across the polished wood floor at all. Green eyes went wide for a moment before she quickly regained some of her composure back. "Thank you. Didn't know nobody was listenin'."

Carefully she tucked the violin under her arm letting the bow rest against her leg where she lightly tapped it against the smooth brown fabric of her pants. When the man with the.. was that a cross? mentioned how her childhood home looked like others he'd seen, a soft smile crossed her face as she looked up about it. "Didn't always used t' look this way. I remember when it was just a small cabin 'fore Pa started adding on an' fixin' it up. Course that was before th' rest of my siblin's came about."

"It looks like he did a good job. Fine craftsmanship, here." Wolfwood said thoughtfully. He looked at the girl and offered a hand, smiling to match hers.

"Nicholas D. Wolfwood, traveling priest. And you'd be?"

Oh so he was one of them that traveled the verse bringing religiosity to all the fuzzy wuzzies. Gwen didn't know whether to feel sorry for him or feel some respect for the man. Being any kind of Preacher was hard at least in her world and probably harder if what Ronon said was true about how the War had ended.. well she probably would have lost what faith she hadn't previously during it. She accepted his hand, though, keeping the smile upon her face and hopefully the thoughts from reflecting in her eyes. "So you're a Shepard? Don't rightly seem the type. Always pictured men of the cloth t' be old an' graying."

Yes a little light humor to hopefully dispelling any mood that might pop up. "Gwendolyn Mackenzie though most folk just call me Gwen. And thanks- Da studied a lotta the structures from Earth-that-was when he was lookin' to make the house grow an' be a place of business."

Wolfwood chuckled a little bit.

"Yeah, I get told a lot that I'm a lousy priest. Probably because I spend more time helping people then telling them how they're all sinners." He smiled warmly. "Most of my career was spent in a house like this one, running an orphanage." He seemed a study in contradiction, smiling and yet his body language suggested a great sadness.

"The way it's built... brings back memories."

"Folk don't know what they are talkin' 'bout when they speak like that. I saw many a Shepard out on the fields giving last rights or helpin' local folk where I came from." A wry little smile slipped across her face as she tapped the bow against her leg once more before moving to place it back on its stand. "But... there are them ones that liked t' preach hellfire and brimstone when they could."

Well so maybe he wasn't so bad, having run an orphanage and all. Her smile softened as she watched him hooking her hands in front of her like she often had when the straight backed dress uniform had required it of her. "It's not standing any more," Gwen said slowly, taking her time walking back closer to the Shepard. Raising her right hand she took in the library, it's actual books that lined shelves and paintings on the soft colored walls. "When the Alliance retook my home planet.. they destroyed it all."

Wolfwood's smile faded into a serious expression.

"That's... Terrible." He said, his tone reflecting empathy. He looked down, shaking his head slowly. He had already pieced together a bit without asking. People who weren't in a war didn't walk around in their uniforms. "I never will understand the effect war can have on people. Taking someone's home from them just for being on the wrong side..." His left hand balled into a fist unconsciously.

"Even the devil himself'd find that angering."

"Collateral."

They had taken everything. The horses, cattle, her parents lives- in fact if someone were to walk out back to the big willow tree not to far off the graves for her father, mother, younger sister, two of her baby brothers would be out there too along with her older brothers. Okay so Wil hadn't been that much of a baby when he had died in battle, but Josiah had been. Alliance didn't care a bit about what they were doing when most of them had stood against what the Core wanted for them. Releasing a rush of air through her nose in the form of a sigh, Gwen stopped once she was back within reasonable distance of the Shepard. "Back owed taxes, traitors to the 'right' cause, name it and it's on the books. Devil got his fair share of souls sent down to him. Reckon by the time it's all said and done there will be more."

"'s all in the past though right? We ain't likely goin' back to our own worlds so.. why keep angry 'bout it?" Sure it was more than frustrating, more than infuriating, though the woman was more than content for now living in the moment and remember what was before it was all gone. "I bet you're having a hay day with all this."

"Hay day? Not quite." He said with a weak smile. "I know... used to know... a lot of people who would be taking advantage of a situation like this to push their own agenda. But I'm looking around and all I see is suffering people and lost children. Even if I wanted to, pushing my faith onto others would be downright arrogant right now." He had rested his cross on the ground, now leaning against it. He then smiled slightly brighter.

"I am happy for the second lease on life, though. Before I woke up here, the last thing I remember is dying from a gunshot wound."

"But you're alive."

He looked alive. He looked every bit a man who was living and breathing not lying cold in a grave six foot under. Green eyes studied Nicholas carefully before offering him the softest of smiles that she could manage. She wasn't the hard woman that some of her soldiers might make her out to be at times. "Some suffering is good for the soul, yes? I mean.. It makes us grow and become stronger. And everyone is lost somehow. Every path through the woods has an ending. We just got to keep on going."

"Besides," Gwen said with her smile growing a little more, "we got the best food, the best sleeping quarters, and the best shiny uniforms in th' entire 'verse. I think we'll be fine."

"Haven't tried the food yet, myself, so I'll take your word for it." He smiled again, seeming a bit cheered. He shouldered his cross again.

"Still, I'll try to do what I can to help. Maybe set myself up a nice church." He looked off in space for a moment before looking at the browncoat.

"I should probably be getting on that, actually. Give you some free time to play." He smiled and turned away, holding a hand up in a parting wave. "If you ever need anything, just ask, Gwen. Good meeting you!" With that, he began walking.

"Zài-jiàn, Shepard. Thanks."

Green eyes watched the man leave, a small smile creeping across her face. That one was an interesting man if she had ever met one. Something about the whole Priest thing.. made a spot between her shoulders itch. But that didn't mean anything yet. Maybe one day she'd ask him about the cross he carried 'bout.

A soft chuckle bubbled up before she turned back to the house simply closing her eyes and allowing a tune to reach her lips. No. Gwen wasn't exactly ready to leave quite yet.

Blin actually knew the song. Funny; you travel across dimensions, have your Earth destroyed, but somehow no matter where you end up, the music survives. Celtic music was apparently a universal constant.

So there was only one proper thing for Blin to do here; join in. After all, she had a fiddle and he had a guitar, and the song was built for the two of them together, so why not? No proper musician would ever turn down accompaniment.

And it was a pretty good melody.

At the sound of another instrument joining in, Gwen spun on her heel pausing once with the bow hovering over the strings. Truth be told she hadn't expected to find another musician at all on the ship. It was a relief to say the least that one had appeared as if out of nowhere. Her smile grew wide as if a laugh were going to bubble up at any given moment as she played the song along with him.

Quietly Gwen allowed her part to slack off giving Billy the chance to play the melody. The brilliance of the piece was the way the two parts interacted together, both having their chances to shine and display the skill of the player. Gwen was curious- so far he was good.. but what else could he do?

William Shane Barlow had trained to do three things in his life: Survive, Lie, and Entertain. Luckily, these often interacted perfectly to avoid multitasking. Music was a huge part of his life; if he heard a tune, he could probably play it (no pesky vision to distract from hearing it), and if he played it, he could play it well. It was what he did.

Well, that and magic tricks, but mostly it was the music that got him cash.

So when Gwen slid from the lead and let him take it, he figured he'd throw a small side-step into the piece; it was really just a collaboration of different Irish and Scottish melodies, so why not slide a few more? Keep the tempo so it fit, of course, but let it ride all the same.

Jazz it up, as it were. A Celtic banjo duel. He smiled as he played... he hadn't gotten to do something like this in a long time.

Jazz it up a bit? Gwen was torn between laughing and missing the notes. She hadn't ever been one to pick up on the jazz side of music that came from Earth-that-was, favoring more the tunes that her Grandpa had said came from places Isles of Green and so on so forth. Scotland? Ireland? The woman couldn't quite recall where he had said his people had hailed from back on the dead planet.

But there was a challenge here. It was a nice one- one that she couldn't help but pick back up when the round came to her. Shifting her fingers on the violin she did the one thing her mom would have whipped her for sure as the sun did rise. Fiddle had been a second trait the lass had picked up during her years of hanging around the pub with her Grandpa listening to the music. Which didn't lead to the surprise as she picked up the tempo picking a tune (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ndd8bhlo-9E) that would have made any of her ancestors proud.

"Oh, now yer playin' dirty, lass." Blin said with a smile. Hitting an Irishman who just learned his universe was gone with the Farewell to Ireland... just plain cruel.

But he could keep it going.

"Something I picked up in Galway last year, then."

When it turned over to him, he picked up right where she left off (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=scf-T7_e9l4). Not a traditional tune, but a good one anyway.

"Ain't never really heard of no Galway nor not much of this Ireland." Listening to the notes coming from the guitar she smiled, eyes closing as she tapped her foot along to the tempo that he was setting. It echoed softly in the room that had always been her favorite to play in. The acoustics were great for a home and often a place of much entertaining when guests came for dinner.

One more round of music wouldn't hurt right? A wry smile crossed Gwen's face as she picked up (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UCi4hblpR2k) where Billy left off already deciding that it was a draw in her mind. The man had skills that was for sure.

If she'd barely heard of Ireland, then she'd obviously not been, which was clearly supported by the accent. So, there was only one thing Blin could do; Chuckle over the fact that he was the obvious superior being, and play another tune (http://www.youtube.com/user/comhaltas#p/u/6/YNY8wi5vyQg). Damned if he was going to loose.

"Well, you're missin' out, lass. The Eire is, truly, the most beautiful place you could ever visit" because he'd know about beauty, "filled with some o' the nicest people" okay, obviously lying now, "and some of the best alcohol money can buy." Well, at least that part was true. "Truly, there is no finer land."

He may be trying to rub it in juuust a little.

"I'd say Verbena, but I know you ain't never heard of no such planet." With a grin the woman lowered the violin, tucking it gently against her side as the man finished up his piece. Boy could play that was for sure. For now Gwen would call it an even balance in the playing skills with a possible second duel down the road, time permitting. "I hear stories of Ireland though. Just a few things that folk could remember... Which ain't a lot."

And he could rub it in all he wanted. Gwen could easily taunt him about her home that nearly resembled the island that he, obviously, called home and how parts of the culture seemed to survive five hundred years later. The Browncoat waited for his song to finish before she offered him a hand in greeting. "Gwen MacKenzie."

"Aye, ye've got me there. Only planets I'm familiar with are Earth, Mars, Venus, and the other five in my solar system. I've never been one to look at stars, for obvious reasons." He smiled, finishing up his number.

"William Barlow, but they call me Blin." He shook her hand. Firm grip, this one. "If ye ever want to learn more, it may not be the exact Ireland your Earth had, but I'd be happy to tell ye about mine. I did have a good quarter century's experience living on Earth, after all."

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