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

[tristranthorn]

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."

Comments

[tristranthorn]

He turns to look at her and returns the grin with one of his own.

"She would likely give me a strange look and pretend I didn't even exist," he answers, sounding light-hearted about it. It's the truth though, sad as it may be, and it is her likely reaction to nearly everything he does.

[an_evening_star]

"It is better, I suppose, than turning you over her knee," the star offers pragmatically - then scrutinizes him for a moment. "Though I do suppose you would have grown out of that by now."

She tilts her head, still grinning.

"Or at least one would hope, Prince Charming."

[tristranthorn]

He has half a mind to roll his eyes, but he isn't the sort to do that anyway, so he merely laughs.

"I have," he says amusedly. "I'm eighteen, after all."

[an_evening_star]

She arcs an eyebrow, flopping back comfortably and propping herself up on her elbows.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?"

Liking him, unfortunately, doesn't make her any less herself.

[tristranthorn]

"I did not intend to impress you," Tristran says, unfolding his hands, watching her.

"Merely to state that I've definitely grown out of that sort of discipline."

[an_evening_star]

"Eighteen is still very young when your mother is the sort of mother that has very nearly seen the beginning of all things," she wriggles a bit then sighs, looking decidedly put out.

A heavy sigh.

"We are going to be lacking in beds again, Tristran."

[tristranthorn]

"Yes, I suppose that's true," Tristran says with a knowledgeable nod. Flashes of images from his dreams -- about the moon, and falling -- appear in his mind.

He pauses. "Are we?"

[an_evening_star]

"Well, unless we are planning on finding them?"

She tilts her head inquisitively, "Because I am not exactly certain if I have a very good history of finding terribly safe places to sleep. Or stay in general."

Unless one enjoys potential death threats.

[tristranthorn]

Well -- yes. This is very true. The last time she'd found a place to sleep, his hand suffered as a result. It still doesn't look very normal, and it will likely never be 'normal' again.

Oh, well. It's strange, but he doesn't mind so much. The things he'll do for the star.

"Ah," he says with a nod. "I see what you mean. Well, I'm sure we'll manage, either way."

[an_evening_star]

Normal, she finds, is incredibly overrated - and, honestly, a lot more relative than anyone bothers to realize. It might not be precisely 'normal' to anyone else for a star to be a girl, but she's rather used to it.

Besides, she hardly notices his hand at all.

Or at least not any more than she notices the rest of him.

"Don't sit so straight then," she instructs. "Enjoy your final moments of comfort while they last, Tristran."

[tristranthorn]

His excuse for sitting so rigidly and at the edge of her bed is the sudden (out of nowhere, really!) awkwardness he feels being around her.

But he smiles and tries to relax a bit, shifting a little closer towards the centre of the bed -- and thus, towards her.

"Better?"

[an_evening_star]

"A bit," she allows, nodding in a manner rather reminiscent of some royalty granting pardon and ignoring the - not quite so sudden, nor particularly surprising at this point - way the proximity makes her restless and comfortable all at once.

She raises one hand, turning it for examination.

"I'm not going to toss anything at you though," she says. "No cutlery hidden in my bodice, promise."

[tristranthorn]

The mention of 'bodice' makes Tristran blush unawares -- or, in any case, he wishes he was unaware. He gives her an awkward nod, turning his face to the opposite direction for a moment.

"That's -- that's good," he manages to say. "I'm glad."

[an_evening_star]

Her eyebrows furrow, eyes narrowing for a moment before she shrugs and lets them slide shut.

She didn't even do anything this time! In fact, she was decidedly not doing anything.

"Relax, Tristran," she replies. "I'm not precisely certain as to why you are - I -" Her eyes fly wide in realization, until she very promptly closes them once more, face rather red as well. "Oh! I - um - sorry."

[tristranthorn]

He shakes his head. "It's okay," he says quickly. "I'm fine -- I don't even know why I -- or why you -- never mind."

Clearing his throat, he shifts in his spot.

[an_evening_star]

"Tristran?" the star mumbles after a few minutes, eyes still resolutely shut.

And with every intention of remaining that way.

"Just lay down. Comfortably. There," she adds. "And we will forget that ever happened."

[tristranthorn]

He nods dumbly, mutters a quick, "Okay" and follows her advice, but getting 'comfortable' is hardly possible with thought after thought ricocheting inside his head, wanting to get out.

He sinks, lying flat on his back across the width of the bed by the end, looking up at the ceiling of the cabin, with its very roughly patched wood-work.

[an_evening_star]

Okay, this?

This is, quite possibly, even more unpleasant than standing outside in the middle of the storm.

"Well," she muses quietly, eyes slitting open just enough to blink vaguely upward. "At least no one will make us dance anymore."

[tristranthorn]

Yeeah...this is really, really weird, and probably shouldn't be happening in the first place. Tristran closes his eyes.

"Mm."

He laughs, despite himself. "If there is one thing I look forward to, it's never dancing ever again."

[an_evening_star]

She glances quickly to the side, then redirects her gaze back to the ceiling even more quickly.

A light breath of laughter, "I must admit that I can see the appeal."

[tristranthorn]

Dancing only really became a huge issue as soon as he was forced to do it with Yvaine. Its very odd.

"You danced finely with the captain tonight," he says, voice a little quiet.

[an_evening_star]

"I think that the Captain is possessed with an ability to make anything he does fine," she grins, eyes fluttering shut once more. "Or at least excessively grand."

The two often blend rather neatly - especially for people like Johannes Alberic.

The star yawns, "The Captain and Meggot dance well together. Like you are supposed to."

[tristranthorn]

"I am usually not this bad," he admits with a slightly deflated sigh.
He refuses to turn in Yvaine's direction so he keeps staring at the ceiling.

"I don't know what happened. Or...why it happened."

[an_evening_star]

"Your girl will teach you how to dance properly," she mumbles, words slurring slightly with sleep. "It's what they do."

She waves a hand above her head dismissively.

"'s why my sisters liked to practice."

[tristranthorn]

"My girl," he murmurs to himself. Which one? "I suppose," he says, voice a little louder.

"Did you practice with them?"