driftfleet | Red Fish Pond

[after the long ordeal of getting Coil calmed down, he's fleeing to the kitchen for a momentary respite. he figures the kid could use some food, and he--well, this isn't his ship right now, but he still wants to see how badly the poor kitchen has been mangled in his absence.

he didn't think the knocking-around sounds belonged to anyone he knew. a foolish assumption, especially as he turns the corner and sees that familiar tangle of red hair across the room.

he makes a... sound. which is a somewhat monumental feat of communication, for him.]

[Hey, the kitchen is fine. She's actually kept it the same as possible, because she needs consistency.

But isn't there a saying about the only consistency is change?

She turns at the sound, mild surprise muted further by inebriation. She's expecting someone else, maybe Arthur coming to usher her back to her room to try and sleep it off. So seeing Zhas there is unexpected to say the least.

She stares, blinks once, hard and slow, but he's still there when she opens her eyes. Even so it's hard to believe. Is she seeing things?]

Zhas?

[he knows that he's been gone... a while, but he keeps forgetting exactly how long that "while" was. to his senses, it's been a week and a nap.

her exaggerated reaction doesn't fill him with a whole lot of confidence, but he raises an arm in what would have normally been his "hi" gesture anyway.]

[She's walking closer, little by little. Half because she's not convinced he's there, half so she doesn't trip.]

Do you know me?

[This is important. Vital. If he doesn't remember her, well she's just not enough to cope with that.]

[...of course he remembers. he nods, swallowing back a sudden pang of uncomfortable familiarity. he remembers, there's nothing to worry about.

he happens to smell the air--and tilts his head, distracted. she smells like a bar; has she been drinking...?]

[The nod is pretty much her whole world right then. She's so happy she can't hold it. She's been half brought to tears more than once tonight, by well meaning friends who only wanted to make her feel better. But she'd overcome, even drunk, she'd not shed a tear.

But happiness cracks right through her battered defenses, and suddenly she just bursts into tears. He might have a half a second of warning because of it, before she just pitches herself at him, completely forgetting that he's not really a toucher. She throws her arms around his waist and hugs him, probably tight enough to be uncomfortable, just so she knows he's there. And well, she cries, open, body wracking sobs of just pure release.]

[he flinches back in surprise, of course. just because it's already happened once doesn't mean he's any more prepared for someone to fling themselves at him. for several dense seconds, he only stands there, arms held up and out of the way in feeble astonishment...

...what... is going on...? what does he do with this...?

but... he knows how to deal with crying girls a little better than he does crying boys. in her right mind or not, Syeira can eventually feel his arms close around her in response.]

[You were missed, Zhas. That's what's going on.

She's not blind drunk, though she tried really hard to get there, people kept stopping her, so she does know when he puts his arms around her. It just makes her grip on him harden, and the tears come in another surprising wave, that half chokes her, and she coughs a few times. She will feel really bad about how gross she's making his shirt, in a few minutes.]

s-so happy....tssee you

[It's vaguely intelligible, if a little broken up by hiccuping breaths and wet, mucusy snucking. Welcome home, Zhas.]

[he's not gonna lie. this is pretty gross. he knew he'd have to break in his jacket again (it'd been washed and repaired sometime before his consciousness on the Marsiva), but he'd been expecting to do it with ash and blood, not... tears and... whatever was coming out of her nose...

but he is nothing if not patient when it comes to startling emotional outbursts, once he orients himself. so he'll quietly wait for her to feel better, even start petting her hair a little to encourage her to calm down.]

Edited 2016-05-25 03:56 (UTC)

[Okay so she does eventually get tired out. She has been drinking after all, so she only has so much energy left. She starts to lean against him more heavily, even as her grip slackens some. The sobbing slows down to sniffles, and she finally leans away from his chest.]

Ugh, yuck. [She wipes at her face with one hand. Guh.] Crying sucks. Need a towel.

[She's not totally disengaging to go get said towel. He may need to help her out there.]

[with a noise of definite agreement, he's perfectly fine helping out... by gingerly taking her shoulders and attempting to peel her away from his person.]

[Right right, just let her step back. It's hard okay. He's been gone a long time and she's gone through a lot since then. But she manages to put a few inches between them.]

Oh, your shirt...sorry.

[She turns and grabs a couple of dish towels, dampens one, and offers it to him, before going back to the sink to blow her nose and wipe off her face. Reunions are fun.

When she's not utterly yucktastic, she turns back to him, drifting closer.]

I'm gonna grab onto your sleeve for a few minutes. I um, I need the reassurance.

[And she does just that. She is very sorry for not being sorry about having attacked him with a hug, and looks properly chagrined by it.]

I can't believe you're back.

Edited 2016-05-28 20:44 (UTC)

[he accepts and takes the towel, but he doesn't actually do anything with it. he just stands there in stiff acceptance, attention wandering from her face-scrubbing to the counters, the attempts at coffee, and the rest of the kitchen.

it's stupid. but it's a home away from home.

so when she turns back to hold onto his sleeve, he's still holding the unused dish towel. looking back over at her, over the features of her face, he finally finds the space let out a quiet, exhausted sigh.]

Did everyone lose their minds while I was gone...? [the distinct absence of irritability in his tone is the only thing that hints this is maybe supposed to be funny:] Or am I just lucky...

[It gets a smile, if not a laugh. It's too close to the truth to be actually funny, but she gets the humor of it.]

You just have really great timing.

[She takes the towel from him, without a word, and starts dabbing at the mess she made on his clothes.]

You've seen Coil, then.

[It's not a question.]

He cried on me too.

[probably not the first thing that should come out of his mouth when it comes to Coil, but he's had a weird day. he's despondent to being cleaned up, but seems to be gazing towards the kitchen table... considering sitting in a chair, perhaps...]

He's... [oh, what's the word for this...?] ...Upset.

I think you mean he's relieved. I can't imagine he'd be upset to get you back. Losing you wrecked him.

[She fusses about his shirt, in the overly focused fashion of the inebriated, when they're trying hard to be sober. If he sat, she'd probably be grateful.]

I've been taking care of him, as much as he'll let me. But I'm no substitute for family.

Edited 2016-05-29 21:30 (UTC)

Oh.

[what else does he say to that? he finds it hard to believe that anyone could miss him that much, even Coil. that's why this whole thing is so confusing.

after a sluggish pause, he looks down at her again.] Are you drunk.

[His taciturn nature does him credit sometimes. Because if he'd said any of what he was thinking, she'd have launched into a lecture about just how important he is to Coil, and to herself, and that he was very much missed.

Instead, what he gets is a wave of her free hand.]

Not as much as I was a few hours ago.

Oh.

[maybe that'll just be his phrase for the night. with an uncertain tilt of his head, he gives up the standing game... and drifts to go sit down at the table instead.

he says nothing when he's there, but he's bothered and tired-looking all the same.]

[Ooh sitting. She drags a chair over, not even once letting go of his sleeve -she told him she was gonna hold on for a while, and she meant it- and sets down angled across the corner of the table from him. And then she kind of half sprawl/leans across the surface, because it's been an up and down kind of day. She's wrecked.]

Did you get shuffled here? I kept your shuttle the way you left it.

[she can lean all she wants. Zhas isn't feeling much better, evidenced by his slowly slumping further down in his chair and running his hand distractedly through his hair.

silence follows. he's... touched, to hear that she kept his shuttle the same. flattered, maybe. he doesn't have much right to things or space where he's from, so he'd assumed that most of his "worldly" belongings would have been tossed into a void by now. but to hear that she kept his little space the same hits him harder than hearing that he was missed. words are just noise to him; actions have a heavy weight.

after a stretch of silence, he finally shakes his head.]

Staying here anyway.

[he didn't like the Marsiva and he doesn't really like his other ship. he liked his stupid shuttle and his crew.]

Transfer. We'll make space.

[He doesn't ask, so she doesn't make the excuse of doing it for Coil. To give him stability, something familiar with all the change going on. It's true, but it's not everything. She did it for herself too.]

[he nods. he'll do it. and after the exhausting week he's had, it's nice to know he doesn't have to be the one to make it happen, just this once.]

Thanks.

[it's quiet, but he means it. he pushes his arm forward on the table a little, to make it easier to hold onto.]

[It's good that she's had her cry, because otherwise that tiny offer from him would have made her tear up again. She loops her hold a bit more around his arm, and smiles a not at all watery smile.]

Glad you're back, Zhas.

[he's not glad to be back in the Fleet in a general sense--this still isn't where he belongs, and there are dire matters that need attending to at home. but all the same, he'd much rather be here than anywhere else in this "program" they're running... so he's kind of glad that he's back too.

after a moment of reflection, he brings up something that'd been glossed over a minute ago:]

You took care of Coil.

[he draws a question mark with his finger--since he knows she understands that, now.]

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject