[SE] help yourself

Thalassa

Life still sucks. The weather sucks, thinking sucks, moving sucks, feeling sucks. Everything sucks, but she's doing her best. Thal hasn't been sitting around wallowing since that first week, she's been finding distractions and momentary bursts of interests that keep her from rubbing her emotions raw. It hasn't necessarily worked but she's trying and that has to count for something. She hasn't even pestered Asta that many times, trying not to overburden him with her struggles. He has enough of his own this season. Maybe that's why she's surprised when she spots Danta out so far, seemingly.... working? 

She twists the membranous wings of her lyvern form towards him to get a closer work. Having left The Marauder docked in Jack Tar to resupply, she'd been looking for another meal - an unfortunate side effect of feeling so much means that her bloodlust screams like a banshee the moment it starts to rise, competing with everything else clamoring in her head. Luckily, it hasn't gotten too bad yet and she can afford to investigate, so Thal banks over the bridge, shifting gracefully to approach in a casually confident gait that seems to come easier than when he'd seen her last. Her blue eyes narrow at his odd positioning, her head tilting to puzzle it out as she asks bluntly, "Danta? What are you doing?"

Would you like me to be smaller, weaker, softer, taller?
Would you like me to be quiet?

// you've got a passion in those eyes //

Danta is working, though it's through no fault of his own, he assures you. He'd been flying overhead - because much as he adores his lover and his moods this season, he doubts anyone would object to the use of the word controlling and perhaps overbearing when it comes to Astaroth. And sometimes a guy just has to get out for a few hours and not have everyone he speaks to be threatened with sharp teeth, okay?

He'd been passing over the Bone Bridges when he'd spotted the masons and their carts of supplies, and noticed the giant hole at the side of one of the structures. Landing had been out of curiosity more than anything, but fuck, now here he is. "Oh, hey Thal," he chirps as he hefts a stone into place atop some mortar.

"Someone had a fight with a load of void tangleweed, or so I'm told. Blasted a big hole in the side of the bridge, so I'm helping to fix it up." He straightens, brushing the dust from his hand and gesturing to the masons over his shoulder. "Don't suppose to feel like hefting rocks around for a bit?"

Dantalion

// so aim it straight and true //

Thalassa

Her eyes glance around to take in the hole and the masons, trying and failing to picture void tangleweeds doing such damage. They'd never given her any trouble after all, but maybe people had been trying to attack them. Whatever the reason, it's evident that there's plenty of work to be done and Danta's question has her regretting the decision to land.

Thal doesn't move from her place, a noted lack of amusement in her eyes. "Not particularly." She's accustomed to lugging supplies alongside her sailors, but that doesn't mean she enjoys it or wants to spend what free time she has 'hefting rocks.' Unfortunately for her, she's not one to sit around and watch others work when she's more than capable of lending a hand - it's a weakness thing. 

Pursing her lips, Thal rolls up her black sleeves, moving to grab at the next stone.

Would you like me to be smaller, weaker, softer, taller?
Would you like me to be quiet?

// you've got a passion in those eyes //

"Aw, that's the spirit!" Danta grins, scoffing a laugh under his breath at Thal's less than enthusiastic response. Either way, he's already been corralled into helping out for a bit - such is life when you're the Theocrat, he's learned, whether he feels like it or not - so he'll be here until at least all the rocks are in their place. But as he reaches for the next stone, his fellow Ancient is already there, and it's with a smirk curling across his lips that he allows her to lift and place it.

"The masons said it was a mage with lightning," he explains, gesturing to the hole in the side of the bridge. "Bit of overkill for a few tangleweeds, but I can appreciate the artistry." The chaos, the destruction; were it not for the fact that it happened on one of the bone bridges, Danta might have argued that they leave it be.

He scoots out of the way for another worker to put down mortar, before grabbing at the next stone to lay it.

Dantalion

// so aim it straight and true //

Thalassa

Thal ignores the smirk on Danta's face, turning her back as she lifts the heavy stone, preferring not to look at any teasing eyes that will make her further regret her decision to land. She's already annoyed, the rock pulling awkwardly at her short arms and making it that much harder to heave across the bridge to the hole. By the time she makes it, there's a slight flush to her cheeks that fights off the cold of the coastal breeze. 

"Lightning, huh? Sounds like a blast." The flat tone she uses makes it obvious the pun isn't intentional but she doesn't take it back, moving to grab another stone. "Maybe you should have just blasted holes in all the bridges and called in a day." Destruction is easier than building, after all, and if he likes the 'artistry' of it, why not share the love?

Would you like me to be smaller, weaker, softer, taller?
Would you like me to be quiet?

// you've got a passion in those eyes //

"Ha," Danta announces at Thal's pun, unintentional or otherwise, and he raises his brows at her before turning back to the work at hand. "Would that I could. I haven't come across that particular magic just yet, and fire isn't as good at blasting holes into shit. I suppose I could have mauled at it as a dragon, though..." He sounds all too reasonable about it too, much to the concern of the masons, before the Maverick is offering Thal an easy shrug.

"The bridges are used to bring a lot of stuff into the Inner Quarter from Jack Tar," he says, though he's sure she's already aware, "so I guess it's for the best that they stay intact." Stepping forward to heave another stone into place with a lash of his pale tail, he hops back to give her a chance to do the next one. "What are you doing out here anyway?"

Dantalion

// so aim it straight and true //

Thalassa

Her eyebrow raises in subtle surprise at the mention of his dragon shift. She knows it's something Ancients eventually achieve, but she hadn't realized Danta was one of those people. It gets him more respect from her than he might realize as she moves to retrieve another stone.  

Shrugging her shoulders, she adjusts her hold on the rock, her voice flat with a snarky lack of care for the bridges, even if they are important structures. "Hmm. Pity." 

Thal glances briefly over her shoulder at him and slams her stone into place. A strand of hair falls into her face, so she pauses to shove it out of the way, reminded again of the bloodlust starting to build up. "Needed to get some hunting done before we ship out again." She purses her lips and moves for the next piece, glad to know that she still has time before they need her back. 

"How'd you get roped into this?" She's guessing based on his attire - and her own preference of nonparticipation - that heaving rocks wasn't originally on his agenda.

Would you like me to be smaller, weaker, softer, taller?
Would you like me to be quiet?

// you've got a passion in those eyes //

"It is. Maybe I can persuade Charlie that some other part of the Temple needs renovating or something." Danta grins. Anything for a bit of mauling with or without a cause - and providing they can find something suitable, he's sure the little priestess will also be eager to join in with the general dragoning.

Stepping back to allow the masons to add a little more mortar to their work, he's pleased to see that, with Thal's help, they're almost at the stage where they can use smaller stones to fill in the gaps in their initial work. (Something much easier than lugging around the heavier rocks). "Ah, probably a good idea," he agrees. "Do you ever get caught out by it, being at sea?"

His own bloodlust, while as prolific as any Ancient's, often goes unnoticed if he doesn't tend to it more regularly than strictly needed. "Oh, me? I was on a leisure flight," he says. "Just taking in the world, I guess you could say. Then I noticed all this."

Dantalion

// so aim it straight and true //

Thalassa

Thal tilts her head at the idea, definitely not opposed to some destruction, even as she adds, "I still haven't met Charlie, although I saw her at Kiada's wedding." The distant visual hadn't give her a great idea of the priestess other than her bubbly flare for dramatics and love, but Thal doesn't get hung up on it, certain that they'll run into each other eventually since the Grounds are smaller than people think. 

Wiping a bit of sweat from her forehead, she adjusts her sleeves again, securing the buttons to keep them from falling down. Despite her original displeasure with the physical labor, she can feel the tension leaking out with every drop of sweat, distracted by the work and conversation alike. "Not often. I keep a good supply of steaks and in a pinch I can fly out to find food." Not that she doesn't occasionally end up hangry and ready to bite some heads, but that's not much different than her usual moods. 

"'Leisure flight,' huh? I don't feel like I've done any of those recently." Disassociated wandering? Absolutely. But when the silence leaves room for memories and painful thoughts, she chooses instead to do something - anything - else. 

When the masons give the signal, Thal moves to the smaller stones, settling on her knees beside the hole to fill in the little gaps. She gives Danta a sweeping glance of her eyes before focusing on the work. "Does it have anything to do with Asta's predicament this season?" There's surprisingly no judgement or accusation, no annoyance with the Butcher's situation, not even an eager curiosity, just a quiet inquiry that Danta is free to brush off.

Would you like me to be smaller, weaker, softer, taller?
Would you like me to be quiet?

// you've got a passion in those eyes //

"Ah, you should drop by the Temple and introduce yourself one of these days. There are fewer Ancients more devoted to Dygra than she is." Whilst Danta considers himself devout as they come, Charlie makes the worship of their dark lady seem like artistry and delight all rolled into one. Still smiling to himself at the thought of the little priestess, he rolls his shoulders to keep the muscles from seizing up, then also leans in to grab some smaller stones to tuck into the mortar.

Humming his approval at the way Thal manages herself aboard her ship, Danta's brow furrows, if only briefly, while he shoves a stone into place and convinces it to fit there. "Spoken like someone who's lived that life for a while. Must be nice, being able to travel whenever you want," he says, sinking back on his knees.

Not that his leisure flight doesn't allow him to do the same, but it's quite different, having to fly in that hulking shape and do nothing else, rather than the choices afforded with a ship. Spending a second to observe their work and find any other suitable gaps, he'd be lying if he wasn't surprised to hear her snap the dots together about Asta, and he raises an eyebrow Thal's way.

"They aren't unrelated," he says slowly. "As I'm sure you know, Asta likes to feel in control of a situation. He needs it, to feel settled. Me, on the other hand... I need to feel like I'm not boxed in, like I can get away if I need to. It's normally fine, but this season it feels like pushing some sort of boundary." He wrinkles his nose.

Dantalion

// so aim it straight and true //

Thalassa

"Maybe next time I head that direction I'll stop in and say hi." Depending, of course, on her desire to see people at all. 

She actually manages a quirk of her lips that might just be a smile when they talk about her ship. The years she's been at sea have come naturally, like slipping into the low tide. Being away for too long is almost as bad as her bloodlust, a longing for the water so strong that it always succeeds in pulling her back into its currents. 

Her shoulders shrug off the tension of work as she moves to grab another stone. "That's one of the many perks. It probably has something to do with my unwillingness to let anyone tell me when and where to be." Or who to be for that matter. Although, as she glances up at a patch in one of the taller sections, she wouldn't have minded being a little taller. Deciding that she can still manage just fine on her own, she skillfully climbs up the other rocks and stretches just high enough to slip it into place. 

When she drops back down, Thal dusts her hand on her pants, leaving streaks of pale gray on the black. It's a good distraction to hide her emotions, even if the flick of her tail gives them away. "We didn't get a chance to talk about it much when he told me," considering she'd been just about catatonic at the time, "but I can't imagine it's been easy. He sounded pretty worried." She'd joked that it's how she always feels, but Thal's become achingly aware than not everyone runs a constant risk of drowning in their own emotions. There's a soft furrowing of her brows, a concern that she'd show for few people in this world, but one she seems to always have now.

Would you like me to be smaller, weaker, softer, taller?
Would you like me to be quiet?

// you've got a passion in those eyes //

"You should - she'd welcome you with open arms, same as anyone else," Danta says easily; he's about to stretch up and place a rock at one of the more out of reach points, but he doesn't need to in the end. Thal is there faster than he can even straighten up, and the Maverick instead tucks one at an eye-level space before stepping back as well, dusting off his hands.

Humming his approval at her point about the ship, he flashes a fanged grin in her direction. "I confess, I've never set foot on one that's on the ocean, not properly." While docked so they can haul off cargo, sure. And skyships, certainly. But a real ship while it's sailing? Never.

"It's been a learning curve, sometimes a steep one," Danta agrees, his smile softening a bit. "We're going to head off to The Climb soon, so he can let off some steam as a feirw." Whether it helps is yet to be seen.

Glancing across at the masons as they declare the work sound, the Maverick sighs in relief. "I think that means we're released from our duties. Thanks for your help."

Dantalion

// so aim it straight and true //

Thalassa

Tucking away the information about Charlie, she's more interested in the fact that Danta still hasn't been on an ocean ship. Thal shrugs her shoulders again. "The Marauder is always available to you - if you ever get the urge to experience sea life." She's made the offer before, and she'd make it again, unable to imagine that people wouldn't want to experience life at sea; not a spec of land in sight, the waves to beckon sleep, and the smell of salt air to play through the sails. Thal will never get tired of it. 

She looks to see Danta's soft smile, hoping that the expression means more good than bad. "That's probably a good idea. Tell Asta to find me if you're not free, or if you guys need extra hands." It's not that she doesn't trust Danta to get the job done, but more that she wants it to be known that she's willing to support whatever they need for Asta to get through the season. 

When the call for work's end comes, Thal looks to the dimming sky. "Thank Dygra," she mutters under her breath, discretely flexing her fingers against the tightness that had developed there. At least there's still some sunlight left for her hunt, so she isn't too upset about getting roped into the labor, and she grants Danta a polite nod.

Would you like me to be smaller, weaker, softer, taller?
Would you like me to be quiet?

// fire on the mountain, run, boys, run //

"I will keep it in mind," Danta assures her with a grin. "Perhaps I'll swoop aboard as a crow first, in case I don't like it and I need to immediately fly off again. The sea is cold, after all." And being around all that deep, dark chill doesn't exactly fan the flames that keep the Maverick going. Reaching up to rub at a knot that's developing in his shoulder now that they've finished with their task, he scoffs at Thal's next comment, offering a self-deprecating smile this time.

"From experience, telling Asta to do anything this season is a good way to ruffle his feathers. But I'll certainly offer it as a suggestion," he says, tucking his hands in his pockets and nodding to the masons as they start to pack up their tools. "Fly safe, Thal," he adds, offering her a nod in return.

And providing there's no further chaos (or chores to be roped into), Danta will step back until he's got enough space and promptly shift into a gore crow. The corvid soars into the sky, waiting until there's ample room for a much larger set of wings - and then it's a black dragon that spreads its dark wings, angling back towards the Inner Quarter.

~FIN

Dantalion

// the devil's in the house of the risin' sun //