When you close your eyes, do you picture me?
Thal takes in the information with her usual analytical mind, nodding her head as she glances around. The large number of eyes on them means she doesn't accept his offered arm, but she grants him a teasing grin in the process, hopping to her feet as she leads him towards the gangway up to The Marauder's deck. "The bars around here only have the cheap stuff, and if you only have forty-five minutes, I don't want to waste your time with the watered-down ale." That was the stuff meant for rowdy sailors and nightly drunkards, not friends enjoying each other's company. She has plenty of options in her cabin, including a particular Halovian whiskey if he's feeling in the mood.
The crew is still hard at work when she passes, and Thal snaps a finger at Spook who nearly leaps in the air at the sound, rushing to her side. "Thirty minutes. Tell the crew to get some food. I don't need them collapsing." She'll leave him to tell the others, not needing the men thinking that she's going soft or anything. They still have too much work to do before night falls and she expects them to work diligently.
Her boots clop against the wood and her tail flicks when she leads Asta across the deck, causing the men's spines to tighten, a heavy sense of awareness passing over them. She doesn't have to look at them to know what each and every one is doing, and they know that she has an uncanny ability to spot their errors without needing her eyes. Even when Spook calls out for a break, they continue to work cautiously until the door of her cabin closes behind her and her guest.
She glides across the familiar room, the desk scattered with maps and daggers, the small bed tucked into the alcove of the wall, the chest slid under the windows that make up the back, and ultimately the railed shelf filled with bottles of various alcohols. Her fingers glide over the labels as her tail flicks to one of the desk chairs. "What are you in the mood for? Anything in particular?"
The crew is still hard at work when she passes, and Thal snaps a finger at Spook who nearly leaps in the air at the sound, rushing to her side. "Thirty minutes. Tell the crew to get some food. I don't need them collapsing." She'll leave him to tell the others, not needing the men thinking that she's going soft or anything. They still have too much work to do before night falls and she expects them to work diligently.
Her boots clop against the wood and her tail flicks when she leads Asta across the deck, causing the men's spines to tighten, a heavy sense of awareness passing over them. She doesn't have to look at them to know what each and every one is doing, and they know that she has an uncanny ability to spot their errors without needing her eyes. Even when Spook calls out for a break, they continue to work cautiously until the door of her cabin closes behind her and her guest.
She glides across the familiar room, the desk scattered with maps and daggers, the small bed tucked into the alcove of the wall, the chest slid under the windows that make up the back, and ultimately the railed shelf filled with bottles of various alcohols. Her fingers glide over the labels as her tail flicks to one of the desk chairs. "What are you in the mood for? Anything in particular?"
Thalassa
When you fantasize, am I your fantasy?
