[SE] Worst of Both

Some people have an identity.

After the situation in Hak Etme, Thal didn't know what to do with herself. Maea had vanished and she didn't know if she was dead or alive. The only person she'd even thought to start calling a friend, and she was gone. And it was probably her fault. The bottle in her cabins wasn't enough to wash away the guilt eating at her heart, but it did a great job at pushing the thoughts far enough into the darkness of her soul. 

Stumbling down the alleyway steps, she made her way to the outside of the Dusklight. Her hood was pulled up high, hiding the dark circles rimming her bloodshot eyes. She didn't know where the pale Ancient might be holding up, but the Dusklight had been one of her first spots to check. All for nothing. So she'd drowned herself in song, sex, and alcohol until she couldn't remember her name. But that just brought back haunted memories of waking up on a sandy beach alone. Again.

Thal placed her hand on the stone wall to keep her body upright. The numbness was dissipating, but she didn't let the worries back in. She tucked a wild strand of dark brown hair behind her ear, letting her see the mess scattered around the different booths of the black-market alley. No one had taken the time to clear the festivities of LongNight despite the weeks that had passed. She found herself kneeling down to pick up an empty bottle, her eyes barely focusing on the dark green glass. Her fingers twisted around the container, just looking for something to occupy them. Before long, her body started moving to pick up other pieces. People didn't glance her way, used to the strange behavior of nearby beggars. Thal didn't have the energy to care about their thoughts or opinions anyways. She just let the movements sweep her mind into another kind of busying numbness.

I have an alibi.
I have a shadow self.

Thalassa

The Last Whisper wasn't Tal's favorite place to make deliveries, but he did it anyways. It was steady work, if nothing else, with the amount of booze the establishments hidden under Sanctuary went through, and his status as the carrier of said booze was usually good for a few drinks at whatever bar he was dropping it off at on top of his usual fee.

He was sober when he came out of The Rampant Cockerel, however. The underground alley wasn't any place he wanted to linger as evening approached, and he turned up his collar as he started to hurry towards the exit and his waiting hammock in the courier station just outside of town--

And almost tripped over a beggar sifting trash from the street. He stumbled, managing not to run into her by a hair's breadth, and turned to scowl at the cloaked person--

Before anything stupid came out of his mouth his jaw clicked shut and his brain tried to make sense of what he was looking at. Or rather, who. He knew that cloak, but he was having trouble reconciling the haughty, loyal captain with this dusty apparition.

"Uh... Thal?" he tried, tentative and clearly uncertain that he had the right person. "'Zat you? What're y'doin'?"

Some people have an identity.

A familiar voice broke through the fog of her mind, making her look up. Her arms were a bundle of garbage and she had to shift her body to keep a hold of them as she straightened to her full height. Squinting her eyes to clear the bleary film, she asked, "Talyson?" The man definitely looked like the courier, but thoughts were coming slowly. Turning her head away, she noticed the load she carried. Thal couldn't think of a good excuse for the trash and a monotonous voice came from her in response. "Nobody cleaned after LongNight." It was a pitiful sound that she didn't recognize as her own. It was weak, lacking any of her usual snark. 

Still swaying from the lingering alcohol, a piece fell from her grasp onto the ground, echoing a clink through the alleyway. As she knelt to retrieve it, another two jumped from her arms. She knew that she shouldn't be acting like this. A strong, brave pirate captain didn't get drunk and pick up garbage in an alleyway. But most of them didn't have friends. Especially not friends who died right in front of them. Gritting her teeth, she reached to pick up the escaping items, trying to push the image of Maea's limp white body from her mind.

I have an alibi.
I have a shadow self.

Thalassa

Oooookay, Tal was not particularly well equipped to handle whatever was going on here, but he'd been at some pretty low and hungover places in his own life before and he - with no small amount of shame - recognized the signs. His scowl lightened to a mere grimace and he reached up to rub the back of his neck, wondering if a couple of adventures and some snark were enough for him to get involved or not.

Or if it would be wiser to shove off and leave the poor Captain in peace. Might be better for her pride if he did and they could pretend this had never happened later... but...

Aw, hail. He kind of owed her his life or something after what they'd been through together in the Suvahasi. And maybe she owed him hers? The math got a little complicated after that, and involved way too many letters for Tal's comfort, so he just shrugged and reached down to help corral some of the empty bottles that had escaped Thal's grip. "Let's see if there's an old bag or sack around here, yeah?" he suggested, casting about for a handy place to start sticking things. The bottles didn't bother him but he could see the glint of broken glass a little ways off to the side and he definitely didn't want to be juggling that bare-handed! "You, uh... y'in port here long?" he asked, desperately casting about for something that resembled small talk.

With the Hollowed Grounds’ alterations in landscape, some of the animals have grown a bit wilder. A bit bolder.

So while it may surprise some, and others not at all, a crow swoops down, snatching at clothing and bags with sharp, irritating, and annoying talons. Maybe you just lost a piece of bread, or a valuable keepsake!

Whoops. Best go try to get it back!

Some people have an identity.

Thal's eyes noted the bag nearby, yet her arms refused to release the trash, as if it was the only thing she could control. Clutching it closer to her chest, she stood, stepping further down the alleyway. A crow flew by, ripping a piece of garbage from her arms, but she couldn't do more than flutter her eyelids without a care for the inconvenience. Tal's question somehow made it through the fog of her brain, but she couldn't find the strength to give him an answer. Instead, she just shrugged her shoulders in response. Her crew had seen her mood and known to leave her be. Maybe it was the death in her eyes or the lingering threat of explosive violence just beneath the surface. Whatever it may have been, her crew refused to let their gazes meet hers or their paths to cross. They would wait for her in port, but she could see the doubt in their eyes, wondering whether their Captain was still within the shell before them. 

She somehow noticed that the courier was still next to her as the doubts flooded her mind. Turning her face away, she grabbed another bottle, placing it precariously on the top of her pile. Maea kept intruding on her thoughts like her bloodlust at its peak, a constant need to know what had happened. Where was she? Was she okay? The haze of the alcohol was wearing off. She'd always had a high tolerance for the stuff, but now it seemed like a curse, releasing her burden back onto her shoulders with a crushing intensity. Gritting her teeth together, she threw the garbage into a nearby container, gripping its edges with more strength than her form suggested. Her fingers blanched, the blood pumping to her head, screaming She's dead. It's your fault. You don't deserve friends. That's why your memories were stolen from you. You are NO ONE. 

Closing her eyes, Thal's breaths came fast, trying to match the racing of her heart. She couldn't stop the thoughts. She couldn't see a way out. It was the darkness all over again. It was like the last two years had never happened. It was overwhelming. She tightened her eyes harder, trying to block out the onslaught of emotions flooding back to her sobering mind.

I have an alibi.
I have a shadow self.

Thalassa

"Hey!" Tal ducked as a crow dove past, scowling after it as it made its escape with a small cracked bottle that was still shiny in spite of the alley's grime. He scowled after it for a moment, but turned back to Thal when he realized it wasn't bursting into flame or suddenly sprouting a thrown dagger. The Captain's indifference to the insult said volumes about her mood even before she gave him a vague shrug.

He huffed a sigh and headed over to grab a discarded bit of sacking. The hole in it was small enough that the bottles wouldn't fall out, at least, and if he held it carefully he could use it for the broken glass, too. He continued to tidy things up in awkward silence until he had enough to join Thalassa at the bigger container she'd found to hold the trash--

Then he realized that she was having some sort of moment. He dumped his sackful of crap and started to reach out to touch her shoulder but then hesitated, remembering what Maea had done to him during their training. Maybe startling a freaked-out Ancient wasn't the best strategy when he had no idea what Thal was capable of? "Hey," he said again, but this time his gruff voice was low and attempting to be reassuring. "Thal? Y'still with me?" His hand hovered, close but not touching until he was sure she knew who he was.

Some people have an identity.

Words and thoughts collided in her mind like explosive fireworks, casting red stars across her vision. As her breaths quickened, things went out of focus, pulling away from her before she had a chance to grasp them. A growl of frustration and exasperation started low in her chest, overwhelming any anxiety along with the logic. When a voice came from next to her, Thal whipped her head around, fangs bared and reaching for her dagger, ready to unleash chaos just to escape the feelings storming within. 

And yet there stood Tal's familiar face, riddled with concern. For her. 

Embarrassment and regret doused her rage to a simmering boil. Her face fell slack, but her eyebrows stayed knit together in a scowl and her breathing didn't slow, coming out in quick puffs. Tal may have helped her once, and he may have earned her respect enough to escape her current wrath, yet that didn't mean she had a sudden desire to open her heart to him. If anything, him seeing her in this state turned her heart to cold stone. 

Gritting her teeth, she spun on her heels to leave the alleyway. The movement jostled a thought from the tumultuous waves of her mind, causing her to pause the brisk exit. Dipping her head low, her voice came out dangerously soft. "If Maea's not dead, tell her to find me." To anyone who might not know her, it would sound like a threat, but Tal might pick up on the exhaustion and desperation in her tone.

I have an alibi.
I have a shadow self.

Thalassa

Nope, growling was definitely not good and Tal pulled his hand back even before Thal flashed her fangs at him. He was pretty sure she couldn't get through his armor, but that didn't mean he wanted to tempt fate or piss her off further! But even though he stopped trying to touch her he didn't back away. He'd had friends lash out before - usually while hallucinating under Void-influence, sure, but still - and he wasn't going to just abandon Thal. Maybe she wasn't really a friend, but they'd helped each other out enough by now that she'd earned that much from him.

Though not enough for him to chase after her and demand explanations. He didn't know her well enough for that and she made it pretty clear that she wouldn't appreciate it from him which... fair. In her shoes he wouldn't want anyone he knew seeing him like that either.

Which made her parting words even more surprising.

"Maea? Why'd she be--" He grimaced, cutting himself off as he thought about his Ancient friend's penchant for self-sacrifice and lack of concern for her own safety. He couldn't know the specifics, but it wasn't hard to guess that she'd gone and done something dangerous again. "...Uh. Sure?" Slowly, his face screwed up in an odd expression of worry and confusion, he bent to put a few more things in the container and then hauled it towards the mouth of the alley where the rag and bone men could claim the contents. "I c'n pass th'message on." Delivering messages was what he did best, after all.

~Fin~