driftfleet | Mirtul 18 1370 dr

Entry tags:

Mirtul 18 1370 dr

Who: Syeira and YOU
Broadcast: Nope
Action: Varric's bar on the Iskaulit mostly
When: Directly after the shuffle.

She has been checking on the roster listing nearly compulsively lately. Things have just been rough for her. Losses upon losses. Regaining Anders, only for her friend to not know her. It piles up on top of everything else.

Everything else being Sam falling into a sleep only to wake and nearly do something horrible to Cas. And she got to take a lovely swim in Sam's blood for that, a delightful bonus to her kill deprived self. And then Sam is hurt, again, on her watch. Cas fell into a sleep immediately after. She's been ill from the planet nearly all the time. Coil had a melt down. Arthur turned into a tiny teenager. And of course, Robin revealed to her she not only had a Calibration, but when he was in it, he saw her murder her own mother.

She had asked Robin not to shut her out again. That was the mistake. She'd admitted her fragility out loud where Atroma could over hear it. She'd told him she couldn't stand to lose any more friends. And now he's just gone. Removed, like so many others. And she quite simply cannot take one more bit of horrible without doing something about it. But there's nothing to fight. She's not going to trash her room. The thing that's left is rather obvious.

She goes to the Iskaulit, to the tavern that feels like one from home. She has a small pouch full of credits. She managed to pull out enough that the pouch weighs at least five pound. There's a hefty amount of money in it. This she takes directly to whoever is tending the bar, places it purposefully down on the counter, and gives them a dead serious, almost empty look.

"I would like to drink, until I physically cannot anymore, or the money runs out. Whichever comes first." And by the look of things, the money won't be what runs out first. "If it's the former, please feel free to keep whatever is left over for your troubles." Because she imagines it will be annoying to shove her out into the hall when she's fall down drunk.

And with that, she will start drinking. There's dedication in it, because she wants to obliterate everything in her head. Blot it all out until all that's left is alcohol poisoning.

[ooc: Feel free to tag her at any time during this. And please note, she did not notice Zhas has returned to the fleet, and I request that no one tells her. Thank you!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Arthur smiles fondly, with a bit of pain in it. He puts a hand on her shoulder, gentle and warm. "Can we go back to the Red Fish?"

He knows if she's going to talk, it's not going to be here.

"Not if they're still willing to fill my cup, no." That was the deal struck, and she liked her end of it.

She gives him a long look, eyes so squinted they are nearly shut.

"You got grown up again. Good, thass good. Looks nicer on you."

His fingers move to wipe the moisture from her forehead, his smile turning strained.

"I don't think they are," he says, looking up at the bartender, who shakes her head.

Arthur leans down next to her. "Come with me? Please?"

He's ignoring the comment about his age right now, but he'll get back to it.

Edited 2016-05-17 07:26 (UTC)

She sways away from the touch of his fingers, lifting a hand that awkwardly flails and then rubs at her wet, red circle indented forehead. She groans, which sounds like a child protesting rather than a grown lady.

"Fine, fine. Just a moment." And she takes the cup she'd been laying on, and lifts it. There's about half a glass left and she drinks it down in a long gulp, slams the cup down on the table and sucks in a gasp of air.

"I could have gone longer," she mutters, glancing up at Nami with a sullen pout.

"And I will tip her a bundle for cutting you off now when I come back," he says, nodding his thanks at Nami before holding out his hand to help Sye up.

Edited 2016-05-17 07:45 (UTC)

"Beat you to it." She doesn't take Arthur's hand, because she has something to prove. Which is that she is sober enough that she can walk out on her own, and did not need to be cut off, and she's been soundly cheated out of her black out drinking binge.

She pushes up and promptly stumbles. Now this is a girl with impressive balance usually. But she has also been sitting this entire time, and the rush of drunken light headedness just bursts through her skull. Not even a cat could stand straight under the amount of alcohol she has consumed.

Her arm shoots out, completely off target, reaching for his hand. She gets his shoulder and that's enough. She just stands there, frowning and breathing a moment. "Stood up too fast." Because that's all it is.

He watches her, tenses when she stumbles but lets her catch herself. She's so full of shit, but he doesn't say it. He knows her balance is usually spot on, and so it's alarming she's this off.

He puts his hand on hers. "You okay?" Because he's not going to walk without her, and he wants to make sure she can walk.

He looks so serious, and paired with what he asks it just strikes her as hilarious. She bursts out laughing, leaning a lot more weight on him with just that hand.

"Oh. Oh no. No. Not even a little bit. C'mon." She pats him on that shoulder twice and goes to walk past him. It's not a great walk, but she doesn't immediately face plant into the floor so.

Yes, he's a bit serious, but he knows this isn't for fun. She got completely drunk because she's miserable. But his lips quirk up enough to show her he's not going to fall over with shock at what she's done. He's dealt with drunk people. Just not usually someone he has to take care of. He walks quickly to catch up with her.

"I'm sorry." He looks over at her, sincere. "For the teenager thing. I didn't want that. I didn't mean to leave you."

Oh please, as if drinking is the most scandalous thing anyone's done. Even Arthur has gotten drunk before, surely.

Well...

Maybe he has. She's not sure. He could have at some point. Probably has.

"Don't." She slaps her hand on the center of his chest and gives him a hard frown. "Don't apologize. You didn't do it. And you're right here." She emphasizes her point, but pushing on his chest. "Right here. And you were adorable."

It's not. He's far too serious for his own good, but he's gotten drunk quite a few times. And recklessly, too. A lecture would be hypocritical, really.

He blinks in surprise at the slap to his chest. He looks down, just away from her. Because it may not be his fault in reality but he hates to let people down. He doesn't abandon people. But he doesn't want to make her upset, so he's silent as they walk.

They have similar issues with letting people down, holding themselves to impossible standards no person could really ever achieve. She'd normally be very intuitive of the hurt hovering over someone like this.

And being drunk doesn't change it, ha. It just makes her less likely to filter anything.

"Don't be pouty. It's my night to be pouty. You can have your turn tomorrow. Where are we going?" Because she has forgotten, or he didn't tell her. She can't recall which it is just now.

His lips quirk up and he nods. "Your room on the Red Fish."

He leads her toward the shuttles, since he brought one here. It certainly was her turn, and he wants to hear about it. He helps her in and makes sure she's seated before he slides in the pilot's seat.

"I know you've been sad lately. What happened?"

Shuttles really aren't built for two but she's small and he's slender. So she's kinda crammed up against him, but that's fine with her. Gives her something to lean on, and that's exactly what she does.

"Anything. Everything. Imagine something, it's probably happened to me." She drops her head on his rshoulde. "You ever wish you'd never been born?"

Edited (Jfc this phone) 2016-05-19 04:17 (UTC)

He huffs out a grim laugh at the first part. Then she puts her head on his shoulder and says that. "Sometimes," he admits, letting his hand slide up across her cheek. "But it's not your fault, or because of you. Okay?"

"Oh hell, Arthur. Now feel like an ass." She's too drunk to help him, to be kind. No, she just feels drink and guilty now.

She rolls her head so her forehead is propped on the bone of his shoulder."I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. I'm unhappy and not thinking. I should have stayed in my room."

Arthur bops her head with his hand, a light reprimanding touch. "Stop that. You don't need to fix everything. I'm just being honest because I think you'd expect no less from me."

He settles back to the controls and shakes his head. "You're allowed to be unhappy. Now stop feeling guilty and tell me everything that's lead to this point."

"Not at the cost of your well-being I'm not." There's a piece of her problem, right there. Everyone and everything is more important than she is. It's a thing she's done to herself, partly, as a way to minimize her fears, make them manageable. But it also helped to convince her that her value lies in what she can for others and not in who she is.

"My whole life has led to this. Every single moment." Ugh, no. The tears are trying to come back. "I'm not a person, I'm a tool. I pretended to be real, but what's the use?"

No, no, no. Tears stay back. She breathes through her mouth, fighting them off again.

Edited 2016-05-20 06:57 (UTC)

"How is my well-being at risk?"

And then he hears the second part. He neatly parks the shuttle at their ship, powers the shuttle off, then immediately stands and gathers her up in a soft hug, no warning, just them cramped together in their tiny shuttle.

"No. You're real, a real person who deserves every kind thing in the world. You're important and you deserve something for yourself, especially your health and well-being. I'll say it as many times as I have to for you to believe it."

It all comes out in kind of a soft blurt, because this doesn't come easy to Arthur. But it's true, and the least he can do for her.

He almost gets her with that double shot; the hug and the kind words. He almost gets her. Her breath shakes, eyes sting, but she bears down, even under the weight of the comfort, her drunkeness, and how so many had been trying to make her feel better all night.

But she doesn't let herself cry. She lets herself be hugged, holds onto his shirt with loose fists, but doesn't give herself over to it. "How can I believe it, when everything else says different?"

Arthur didn't mean to make her almost cry. He meant everything he said, though, so he wouldn't take it back. He continues the hug, his voice soft.

"Sometimes, the world just puts a lot on your shoulders. It's not because you're good or bad. It just happens. It's not fair or right, but that's how it is. I remember being at my wit's end, when Mal killed herself, so... I'm not telling you to man up or anything ridiculous like that. I'm just... I'm trying to tell you it's not your fault."

It's not his fault she's riding her emotional edge. She can't help it. And any time someone is nice to her, she teaters. At least she's just sad and not angry. Angry would be much worse.

"I'm sorry about your friend." It's a safe place to go, because she actually believes the bad things that happen around her are her fault. That's what the prophecy kinda implies.

He pulls away gently. It's not what he was going for. Forget the prophecy. Arthur doesn't believe for one moment that anything is her fault. Still, he nods thankfully, and climbs out of the shuttle. He holds a hand out for her.

"You would've liked her. She had guts. And she was smart as a whip."

"I likely would have." She likes most people. Some more than others though.

She gives him her hand, because she's not that stubborn. Falling on her face would not be a good time. So she leans against his side, once they're both out.

"Is she why you've been so preoccupied lately?" Syeira has eyes. She's not missed his questions about death and loss.

Arthur wraps an arm around her and helps her along. No falling on faces allowed.

The question makes him tense around her. It's not something he likes to talk about. "I suppose so." He knows it is. But avoidance is good, right? He heads toward the bunks, still holding on to her. "I thought it was your day to be upset."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

cw: mention of suicide

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject