\\ Get my pretty name out of your mouth \\
Whatever pipe dream Thal had of her two (1.5?) friends being cordial together was quickly dashed, smoke in the wind. Hopes of shared laughter or shared meals blown away in one final word, "Fine." Because they all knew Asta wouldn't stop his ingrained habits, and Maea would never be able to see him as anything more than a monster. And that put Thal right in the middle, trying to somehow mend something that wasn't hers to begin with, with an anger that didn't seem to matter anyways, because what good was anger against a brick wall? It felt like Thal had been banging her head against that wall, screaming herself hoarse in hopes they might lower, all in vain.
Watching Maea prop in her chair, her own posture lost its sharpness, a hopeless exhaustion beginning to pull at her limbs. "You're right. You don't read subtext well, because I've never made a threat against you and I've never called you a liar for having a different opinion. Maybe if you were actually listening, you would know that." Threats against her possessions? Sure. Judgement for her opinions? Absolutely. But Thal refused to let Maea continue misconstruing her anger and apathy for something malicious, as if her only goal in life was to find an excuse to tear her down.
The following tsunami of words was like being waterboarded by every argument or disagreement they'd ever had: Dygra, bloodlust, ethics, pasts. It overwhelmed her to silence, trying to keep track of the tangent that had derailed the conversation. As she processed it all, her eyes narrowed in frustration for the repetitive points, but she didn't speak until the end. Crossing her arms, Thal gave Maea a stoic look. "I appreciate your unfiltered flood of honesty." It was what she'd asked for wasn't it? Even if they'd already perseverated every topic to exhaustion, leaving her with nothing new to contribute.
As for Maea's 'plans' to deal with everything - her avoidance of anyone that with a differing opinion - it felt more like running that accepting. Thal might have argued the decision, might have pushed for the pale Ancient to understand that she'd be living in a lonely bubble of her own making, but one aching point seemed to ring in her mind. Her voice was resigned, knowing the truth even if Maea hadn't accepted it yet. "I suppose that includes me." It was the softest she'd spoken thus far, her head dipping for a moment before she faced her down frenemy, the one who would rather isolate than assimilate. And being the largest source of mental strain, Thal didn't think her presence would be conducive to whatever 'idealistic utopia' the woman was trying to build around herself.
Watching Maea prop in her chair, her own posture lost its sharpness, a hopeless exhaustion beginning to pull at her limbs. "You're right. You don't read subtext well, because I've never made a threat against you and I've never called you a liar for having a different opinion. Maybe if you were actually listening, you would know that." Threats against her possessions? Sure. Judgement for her opinions? Absolutely. But Thal refused to let Maea continue misconstruing her anger and apathy for something malicious, as if her only goal in life was to find an excuse to tear her down.
The following tsunami of words was like being waterboarded by every argument or disagreement they'd ever had: Dygra, bloodlust, ethics, pasts. It overwhelmed her to silence, trying to keep track of the tangent that had derailed the conversation. As she processed it all, her eyes narrowed in frustration for the repetitive points, but she didn't speak until the end. Crossing her arms, Thal gave Maea a stoic look. "I appreciate your unfiltered flood of honesty." It was what she'd asked for wasn't it? Even if they'd already perseverated every topic to exhaustion, leaving her with nothing new to contribute.
As for Maea's 'plans' to deal with everything - her avoidance of anyone that with a differing opinion - it felt more like running that accepting. Thal might have argued the decision, might have pushed for the pale Ancient to understand that she'd be living in a lonely bubble of her own making, but one aching point seemed to ring in her mind. Her voice was resigned, knowing the truth even if Maea hadn't accepted it yet. "I suppose that includes me." It was the softest she'd spoken thus far, her head dipping for a moment before she faced her down frenemy, the one who would rather isolate than assimilate. And being the largest source of mental strain, Thal didn't think her presence would be conducive to whatever 'idealistic utopia' the woman was trying to build around herself.
Thalassa
