Maea
I feel it in the wind, my dear
The sun is gonna reappear
The sun is gonna reappear
Maea's anger burned icy cold. With color flushed into the pale cheeks she grew ever more rigid as Thalassa's sharp tongue sliced her open, lungs constricting until she found herself gasping for breath. Several times she opened her mouth to cut in, to object and explain - but every time the Captain barreled on with such force that she couldn't get a Word in edgeways.
She had never claimed to be intelligent. Or pretended that she was strong. She wasn't asking anyone to follow her nor had she ever claimed that she would beat the Void - the very notion made her laugh, an icy sound laced through with bitterness that helped her mask the wild pain all the accusations caused her.
"How you choose to see me is on you," she retorted stiffly, after a resounding silence. "I've never pretended to be anything I'm not, and if you insist on claiming this to be a measure of strength or success – " she gestured to herself and the office around her, " – then we have very different ideas of what those words mean."
Rising from her chair, Maea wrapped the shawl tight about herself as she paced, aimless as a tiger in a cage. Fighting the vision of herself Thal painted up because of how poorly it fit with how she felt. Hating how much she wanted to be that kind of person. It was such a stupid notion!
"The truth is that I have never lived up to anyone's expectations. Not my father's, nor my teacher's, and certainly never my own. If I had I would not be here now, exposing my private life to a slip of a girl who dares pass judgement over me without knowing anything about me." Her eyes gleamed like shards of ice in the lamp-light as Maea met the pirate's gaze, hard as swords clashing.
"You ask why I'm alive, but I can't answer you - because I don't fucking know. Maybe I made a promise, maybe it's some twisted kind of luck, or maybe I'm just too fucking scared - and so what if I am!? Have I not lost enough already!? My family, my home, my guild, my companion and magic, and person after person who get close enough to make me care only to leave or disappear or die!"
A hand cut a violent arc across the room. A burst of flame erupted from the brazier and the open candles, erazing all the shadows for a second; enough that the ghost paled out of sight. Only the biting chill suggested she was still there; listening, moving subtly to hover behind the Captain, who might feel a ghostly hand on her shoulder; grateful, encouraging her to keep going.
She had never claimed to be intelligent. Or pretended that she was strong. She wasn't asking anyone to follow her nor had she ever claimed that she would beat the Void - the very notion made her laugh, an icy sound laced through with bitterness that helped her mask the wild pain all the accusations caused her.
"How you choose to see me is on you," she retorted stiffly, after a resounding silence. "I've never pretended to be anything I'm not, and if you insist on claiming this to be a measure of strength or success – " she gestured to herself and the office around her, " – then we have very different ideas of what those words mean."
Rising from her chair, Maea wrapped the shawl tight about herself as she paced, aimless as a tiger in a cage. Fighting the vision of herself Thal painted up because of how poorly it fit with how she felt. Hating how much she wanted to be that kind of person. It was such a stupid notion!
"The truth is that I have never lived up to anyone's expectations. Not my father's, nor my teacher's, and certainly never my own. If I had I would not be here now, exposing my private life to a slip of a girl who dares pass judgement over me without knowing anything about me." Her eyes gleamed like shards of ice in the lamp-light as Maea met the pirate's gaze, hard as swords clashing.
"You ask why I'm alive, but I can't answer you - because I don't fucking know. Maybe I made a promise, maybe it's some twisted kind of luck, or maybe I'm just too fucking scared - and so what if I am!? Have I not lost enough already!? My family, my home, my guild, my companion and magic, and person after person who get close enough to make me care only to leave or disappear or die!"
A hand cut a violent arc across the room. A burst of flame erupted from the brazier and the open candles, erazing all the shadows for a second; enough that the ghost paled out of sight. Only the biting chill suggested she was still there; listening, moving subtly to hover behind the Captain, who might feel a ghostly hand on her shoulder; grateful, encouraging her to keep going.
Good days are gonna come along
Hold on, hold on!
Hold on, hold on!
