tristranthorn | [015] OOM - Finding Port, Last Night on Perdita

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[015] OOM - Finding Port, Last Night on Perdita

Life on the Perdita, Tristran finds, is very different from anything he's ever experienced in his life. For one, they are above the ground, many miles up, where the only thing they see is cloud. This is nothing like his stable-life in Wall, where everything is very much grounded -- literally.

The folk aboard the Perdita is also another thing. Every last one of Alberic's crew has their own unique quality or quirk. He's never met a bunch of men (and woman: Meggot) more colourful than them. Each one of them has a story to tell and throughout the two weeks of their journey with them, he's learned a lot -- about things he never could have imagined, about places he's never even dreamed of, and people he could never hope to meet.

Wall, Tristran decides, is a very closed, rather self-indulgent little place in comparison (not to say he doesn't love his home). Even with the likes of the fair as some pathetic attempt at being open-minded, it couldn't even begin to scratch the surface of the worlds upon worlds surrounding it.

In any case, Tristran has been enjoying his time on the pirate ship, but as a fortnight quickly passes (bar-time included), he expects this part of the journey is about to come to a close.

That evening during dinner, Alberic announces to his crew and the couple, that in less than twelve hours, they should be near a harbour tree -- a convenient enough landing port for Tristran and Yvaine to get off and continue their travels on foot back to Wall.

"We'll be needin' to replenish our supplies," Alberic booms, swishing his glass of wine around. "So we can let you off at the same time."

"Thank you," Tristran responds, politely. "We are very grateful for all you've done for us."

"Not to worry m'boy." Alberic grins. "You've but one thing to promise me though."

"What's that?"

"Keep practicin' with that sword of yours. You've a lot to learn yet, but you'll do fine."

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"...Are you all right?"

His hands are on her arms, sort of steadying her before he even has a chance to think about it (really).

And then that awkward realization reminds him that this shouldn't be happening, and he lets go of her.

"Do you need to sit down, maybe?"

"No," she replies, steadfastly ignoring the way that it insists on coming out as something of a question. She is not a child and she is not afraid of storms. "I'm fine."

Yvaine knows, logically, that no one is ever fine when they say that they are. 'Fine' is one of the worst words to use when describing how you are feeling since it almost always assures that you are lying in some way, shape or form.

"Perfectly fine," she bites it out a bit louder this time, nearly spiteful.

He nods his head, knowingly. Having this information works to his advantage, makes him feel less like an clodpoll and a little more normal.

"Ah. Well -- all right," he says. "I suppose I can leave you out here, then." He shrugs. "You'll be fine out here?"

Of course he has no intention of doing such a thing, but Yvaine doesn't know that.

She flinches slightly - eyes wide and nearly lost for a moment before they narrow into what is certain to be a familiar sort of glare.

"You wouldn't dare."

Her chin tilts upward, heartbeat regaining some semblance of normalcy in the moments of silence.

He has to stifle the laughter making its way out him. This is a far better feeling than being awkward and realizing things. (Must be why Yvaine is like this a lot of the time.)

"What is it that you're so afraid of, anyway? You live in the sky, don't you?"

As if on cue, another clap of thunder sounds through the sky. From the other side of the ship, he can hear a distant cheer and the abrupt halt of music.

...if this keeps up, there might be a possible lightning-hunt tonight.

"Lived," she corrects absently, watching the sky warily before chancing another glance over at him. "And I'm not afraid of anything."

This statement might be contradicted by the quiet squeak that makes it's way out of her throat - she had been hidden rather neatly inside her room for the last lightning hunt - and she looks very sorely tempted to retreat back there.

It's unfortunate, perhaps, that she's far too stubborn for any sort of retreating.

"It - it's just loud," she states, trying to convince herself more than anything. "Storm clouds are just loud and rude."

"I'm afraid of dancing," Tristran says, giving her a crooked smile. "Always have been, but even moreso recently."

He takes a step forward, a step away from the railing and towards the cabins. Maybe he's testing her, for whatever reasons. It definitely beats standing around like a bumbling idiot, muttering incoherently.

"It's okay to be afraid of something. I won't like you any less." And that unintentionally makes him turn so red, so fast. It's a good thing it's the evening, and it's too dark to see.

The sky rumbles dangerously and she catches his arm so quickly that she isn't even sure that she's done it until she's there - and her face is abruptly red, glow muted to nearly nothing, as if she can make herself disappear if she really tries.

"Storms," she mumbles, voice barely making a noise. She doesn't like doing this. "Thunder, really. Ever since I was little. It's louder up here - they'd always wake me up and my sisters thought it was funny and yes. Storms."

"It's okay," he says, and his voice is kind and understanding, and very Tristran-like. Something Yvaine should be familiar with, but at the same time, it's different.

"You know, I remember having a dream or something...where you told me that," he says frowning. "Only, we were very...small. There was something about splashing in puddles, too."

She notices - she can't help but notice, she's far too close for anything else. She's getting rather irritated with her heart's tendency to plug up her ability to speak and render her all kinds of useless.

It's bad enough that she's still shaking in an entirely undignified manner.

"You would have liked me better when I was little," she manages, once the surprised fluttering settles down. "I would have been much more prone to following you everywhere - and probably less to tossing things at you."

'I like you as you are,' he wants to say, but he can't quite muster up the courage (or voice) to say it. There is no reason to say it, anyway. None at all. (Okay, that is clearly a lie.)

"I feel like I knew you even then," he says, instead. "It was only a dream, but it felt so ... real."

They are interrupted by a sudden streak of light, blurred and softened in the cloud-filled sky, and then another boom in the distance follows after.

'You kissed me,' she's very sorely tempted to reply. 'You kissed me and then I woke up in my room and my sisters thought that I was crazy. Humming stupid songs for weeks.'

He messes her up something awful.

Her mouth is halfway open, answer on the very tip of her tongue, before there's a clambering wild sound of footsteps of far too many pirates at once and she's stifling a laugh into his shoulder.

"Ah, the cavalry has arrived."

And arrive they do, armed with metal rods and great boxes and with the Captain parading grandly in front of the lot of them, booming out orders in his loud, storytelling voice - Tobias shouting out a quick something about Yvaine's virtue that makes her snort quietly as they pass.

The Captain just grins and continues marching forward.

Well, that is rather ... festive.

The last time they went lightning-hunting, Tristran was right there, helping them (as best he could, considering he had no prior experience whatsoever), and seeing how it was done. He held one of he boxes and saw the captain hook one of those bolts, trapping it.

It had been an exciting event.

Now, however, Tristran doesn't quite feel up to another lightning hunt. He's actually more inclined to staying with the star, just to keep her company. Or something.

The star jumps slightly as lightning strikes once more, dangerously close this time, and her tolerance level is somewhere about completely gone. A deep, steadying breath and she lifts her chin toward some semblance of her usual grandiosity.

"I think," she swallows, keeping her voice steady with some effort. "That I will be retiring for the night."

This is, it might be noted, in no way a tactical retreat. Really.

Tristran turns his attention from the group of rowdy, excited pirates (all cheering and shouting about the storm) to the star.

"Do you want me to ... come with you?" he offers, feeling that incredible hotness return to his face. "I mean, in case more lightning flashes -- or something like that. You could always use me as a shield."

"Just what I've always wanted," she laughs, though she's walking in the right direction anyhow. "My very own human shield."

She feels shy and utterly ridiculous - as if it is in any way strange for him to be continuously in the same place as her. They were chained to one another for quite some time, she can't quite reason why such an offer only seems to make her want to turn spectacular colors now.

He'll take that as a 'yes', so he follows her too, no longer paying any attention to the pirates and their lightning questing.

He is feeling rather ridiculous himself, actually, and on the one hand, things are clearer; but on the other, everything feels like it's just tumbled into a ball of more confusion.

They arrive there quickly enough and the doorknob turns, door opening easily under the slightest pressure from her fingers.

"Lightning isn't so bad," she admits, releasing his arm and seating herself with a slight flop onto the edge of the bed. "It's really just the thunder. I'm not that much pathetic, Tristran."

He smiles, standing somewhere near the bed, but pretty much out of her way.

He's only been in this cabin one other time, and that was before they found the door to Milliways.

"I never said you were," he says good-naturedly.

Yvaine fidgets a bit with the sleeve of her borrowed gown before tilting her head up once more.

She doesn't like feeling this uncomfortable in her own skin - she isn't certain precisely what happened, but something did and it's odd.

"You can still sit, Tristran. The offer did not expire during your time away from the cabin," she says then smiles crookedly, raising an eyebrow. "You can hardly be a proper human shield from all the way over there, anyway."

Yes. Something did happen -- perhaps to the both of them. It was all that confounded dancing, and lightning and pirates giving hints, and making it all very confusing to be devoted to a certain lady in Wall.

In any case, Tristran walks forward and finds a spot to perch upon her bed, by the end.

"So tomorrow we leave all this behind," he starts, looking around the room. It's going to feel odd, having become accustomed to the pirates way of life.

"It is going to be very quiet," she replies. "Well, unless we do manage to find ourselves an assortment of new worries."

She sits a bit straighter than she usually bothers to, rigid and strangely nervous.

"Not that we will," she adds hastily. "Getting back quickly and all that. Only me to worry about - as I cannot be slacking in my duties to make your life a living hell. Would hardly be proper."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," he says, folding his hands together in his lap. He leans forward a bit, looking down at the floor.

He smiles, more to himself, really, than anything.

"I must admit, I am going to miss the food here. Especially the times you've helped out." Is he teasing? There's a possibility.

That gets a laugh - one of those bright, slightly silly ones that she doesn't usually bother with - and her shoulders relax, slanting her gaze at him from the corner of her eye.

"Liar," she grins. "I am ashamed, Tristran Thorn. Absolutely ashamed. What would your mother say?"

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