Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.
"Things have to work out eventually." Thal would never dare to be 'optimistic,' but for his sake - and hers - she hopes the words are true. She wants to believe that happiness can't always slip through their fingers.
His question takes her by surprise, even as it shouldn't. It's only fair after her question, but her body stills, uncertain whether she wants to answer or not, how she wants to answer. She's silent for a moment before she lets out a soft scoff, leaning forward to settle her chair securely on the floor without quite looking at him. "It's hard to miss what I don't remember." Her hand reaches for the bottle, refilling her glass as the thoughts run through her mind, all the unknowns and pieces of truth that have slowly formed her understanding of where she came from, of who she'd been. It's tender, a stinging of saltwater against her exposed heart.
Thal takes a large gulp of her bourbon, rolling her shoulders against the sensation. She stares into the amber liquid as she wades through her emotions, not wanting Asta to see what swims in the blue depths of her eyes. "I still have a... pull to the ocean. Maybe it's longing, maybe it's familiarity. I'm not sure what to call it." Her shoulders come up in a shrug, unable to stop now that she's begun, something in her wanting him to know. "It only started to make sense a few months ago." And only after being blindsided by someone who'd recognized her, dumping a boatload of uncomfortable information on her shoulders.
Hoping to bury the insecurities in humor, Thal leans back in her chair, her hand raised to calm any reaction Asta may have, a bitter smile on her lips. "Now, don't fall out of your seat when I tell you this, but... yours truly was once a mermaid." She lifts her hands, a half-hearted laugh cracking through the room. "I know. I know. Hard to believe." Quieter, she looks away again. "I'm still not sure I actually believe it either." Not that it would be the most terrible thing, but if people knew she used to be some doe-eyed half-fish who gave up her fins for 'love'... Just the thought is enough to make her want to rip into something with a pulse.
His question takes her by surprise, even as it shouldn't. It's only fair after her question, but her body stills, uncertain whether she wants to answer or not, how she wants to answer. She's silent for a moment before she lets out a soft scoff, leaning forward to settle her chair securely on the floor without quite looking at him. "It's hard to miss what I don't remember." Her hand reaches for the bottle, refilling her glass as the thoughts run through her mind, all the unknowns and pieces of truth that have slowly formed her understanding of where she came from, of who she'd been. It's tender, a stinging of saltwater against her exposed heart.
Thal takes a large gulp of her bourbon, rolling her shoulders against the sensation. She stares into the amber liquid as she wades through her emotions, not wanting Asta to see what swims in the blue depths of her eyes. "I still have a... pull to the ocean. Maybe it's longing, maybe it's familiarity. I'm not sure what to call it." Her shoulders come up in a shrug, unable to stop now that she's begun, something in her wanting him to know. "It only started to make sense a few months ago." And only after being blindsided by someone who'd recognized her, dumping a boatload of uncomfortable information on her shoulders.
Hoping to bury the insecurities in humor, Thal leans back in her chair, her hand raised to calm any reaction Asta may have, a bitter smile on her lips. "Now, don't fall out of your seat when I tell you this, but... yours truly was once a mermaid." She lifts her hands, a half-hearted laugh cracking through the room. "I know. I know. Hard to believe." Quieter, she looks away again. "I'm still not sure I actually believe it either." Not that it would be the most terrible thing, but if people knew she used to be some doe-eyed half-fish who gave up her fins for 'love'... Just the thought is enough to make her want to rip into something with a pulse.
Thalassa
