Thalassa
Thal doesn't miss the blush, and she gives a hearty laugh, shaking her head to draw another sip from her glass. She wouldn't have expected the woman who waltzed up to kiss a disgusting old man would balk at the mention of masturbation.
She also would not have expected the conersation to go this direction, and if she weren't so deep in her cups, Thal might have actually sobered up. As it is, the smile slips from her race, the laughter gone in a flicker of a moment. But her mind is addled enough that she actually answers with the truth, wanting desparately for someone to know, and not much caring who right now. Colt asked for it after all.
"It's hard to say. The only time I was with Piece while not infected and," she makes circles by her ear like her brains are being scrambled - or rather, they were scrambled, "he was annoyingly good, but Vesper has the edge with his dominance and shadows, especially that thing." She makes the same motion with her fingers, although it's not teasing or playful, flat with honesty.
She shrugs her shoulders. "Pierce wasn't anything special. Just a distraction." A means to a toxic end that she'll never stop paying for. "But while infected..." Thal pauses, a furrow forming between her eyes as she stares intensely into her glass. "It was like his every touch was a toxin, another dose dragging me deeper, and I couldn't stay away." Swallowing the saliva pooling in her dry mouth, she can't stop the confession that flows. "In my mind, he was the best sex ever. I needed to be close to him. I needed his approval. I needed him." Her breathing has quickened, the intoxicated flush making her look like a child trying on makeup for the first time, using foundation that's three shades too light and smearing the blush comically across her cheeks. Nausea twists in her stomach, quick and brutal. Memories of desire and desperation and utter obsession that she couldn't control run rampant through her mind, highlighting every horrid truth of how powerless she was.
It was like being cured all over again, the reality of the manipulation hitting her unguarded mind with such force that she stumbles from the chair and reaches for the trash at the end of the counter. Vomit is purged from her body, the putrid scent of bile and alcohol hitting her nose, making her eyes water. She should be embarrassed, should swing around and light the place on fire to erase the evidence of her weakness, torch the people who are chuckling at the woman who can't hold her liquor, but the room is still spinning, her thoughts too heavy with disgust to leave room for much more than a desire for escape.
When she straightens from the garbage, she moves to swipe her sleeve across her mouth, but pauses when she spots a napkin next to her, presumably thanks to Lou. Discretely fixing herself with a napkin and an unprompted shot, Thal sits lower in her chair, smaller, relying on the counter to keep her upright as she shakes her head, not looking at Colt when she mumbles halfheartedly, "Doesn't matter. They're both assholes either way."
After taking a moment to collect herself and wash down the foul taste in her mouth, Thal finally looks up again, the mood having soured her stomach enough that she asks a question she really doesn't want to know the answer to, but it's out before she can stop it. "Do you think I deserved it?" Whether that's being infected, Vesper rejecting her, or a slew of other questionable consequences for her actions, she's not sure, yet Thal looks at her intensely, waiting to see if Colt will tell her the truth or choose to swallow her opinions with another drink.
She also would not have expected the conersation to go this direction, and if she weren't so deep in her cups, Thal might have actually sobered up. As it is, the smile slips from her race, the laughter gone in a flicker of a moment. But her mind is addled enough that she actually answers with the truth, wanting desparately for someone to know, and not much caring who right now. Colt asked for it after all.
"It's hard to say. The only time I was with Piece while not infected and," she makes circles by her ear like her brains are being scrambled - or rather, they were scrambled, "he was annoyingly good, but Vesper has the edge with his dominance and shadows, especially that thing." She makes the same motion with her fingers, although it's not teasing or playful, flat with honesty.
She shrugs her shoulders. "Pierce wasn't anything special. Just a distraction." A means to a toxic end that she'll never stop paying for. "But while infected..." Thal pauses, a furrow forming between her eyes as she stares intensely into her glass. "It was like his every touch was a toxin, another dose dragging me deeper, and I couldn't stay away." Swallowing the saliva pooling in her dry mouth, she can't stop the confession that flows. "In my mind, he was the best sex ever. I needed to be close to him. I needed his approval. I needed him." Her breathing has quickened, the intoxicated flush making her look like a child trying on makeup for the first time, using foundation that's three shades too light and smearing the blush comically across her cheeks. Nausea twists in her stomach, quick and brutal. Memories of desire and desperation and utter obsession that she couldn't control run rampant through her mind, highlighting every horrid truth of how powerless she was.
It was like being cured all over again, the reality of the manipulation hitting her unguarded mind with such force that she stumbles from the chair and reaches for the trash at the end of the counter. Vomit is purged from her body, the putrid scent of bile and alcohol hitting her nose, making her eyes water. She should be embarrassed, should swing around and light the place on fire to erase the evidence of her weakness, torch the people who are chuckling at the woman who can't hold her liquor, but the room is still spinning, her thoughts too heavy with disgust to leave room for much more than a desire for escape.
When she straightens from the garbage, she moves to swipe her sleeve across her mouth, but pauses when she spots a napkin next to her, presumably thanks to Lou. Discretely fixing herself with a napkin and an unprompted shot, Thal sits lower in her chair, smaller, relying on the counter to keep her upright as she shakes her head, not looking at Colt when she mumbles halfheartedly, "Doesn't matter. They're both assholes either way."
After taking a moment to collect herself and wash down the foul taste in her mouth, Thal finally looks up again, the mood having soured her stomach enough that she asks a question she really doesn't want to know the answer to, but it's out before she can stop it. "Do you think I deserved it?" Whether that's being infected, Vesper rejecting her, or a slew of other questionable consequences for her actions, she's not sure, yet Thal looks at her intensely, waiting to see if Colt will tell her the truth or choose to swallow her opinions with another drink.
Never been the type to
Let someone see right through
Let someone see right through
