Closed [The Quay] Back in, Back out

[Fallon]

9th Autumn 514 AV

The Quay was silent, unnervingly so. The gentle buzz of noise of the city outside the walls seemed to be sharply subdued in comparison in the late afternoon light. The closed windows were a sign of the stillness within, absent of life in every sense of the word. Her eyes gave a narrow, a small scratch of the gloved fingers against the grimy features, the small step across the way to the front door. Fingers fished out the brass key from her pocket depths, a glance around as she took in the surroundings one last time and was greeted only with silence.

It had been a few days now, even she had to admit that. She had disappeared off the face of the earth, the rumour of her demise spreading through the city. Caught and drowned, was the word. Of course, that was not completely true - she had been hauled out by an unexpected source and her supposed death was, alas, fake. A blessing in a sense, for it allowed her some more freedom of movement and the opportunity to deal with some troublesome individuals without further difficulty. More relaxed now they believed that an immediate danger had been eradicated, a foolish move that gave her easy access and proved their timely demise. Let the city believe that the ghost of the wolf was exacting revenge. The door gave a quiet groan as it was opened, the stuffy interior greeting her as she padded inwards. Inhaling she pocketed the key, gently closing the door shut behind her. Clearing her throat she called out, "Hello? Anyone about? Web? You here? Zandelia?"

She paused, listen to the echoing of the house in response and received only the silence in response. There was the smallest frown, lips pursing into a line as she gave the heavy, mud covered boots a step in to the wood - and then promptly cursed. She gave them a kick off after that, reluctant almost to traipse it through the rest of the building. Moving on through she gave another call out, and in response there was once more nothing. Huffing, she simply pressed on and through, the gentle clunk of movement as she went into the private residence and still found no sign of her partner.

There was not a lot more she could do than wait, she concluded after several moments of pacing back and forth. The woman was obviously absent from the house, though where exactly was a mystery. To go and look for her would be troublesome - more so without any real idea on where to start - and no doubt would only delay their reunion for longer. And so, despite the niggling sense of concern Fallon kept herself put for the moment. Besides there was plenty she could do in the meanwhile, and getting clean was on the lists of it. So, continuing on through the grave building Fallon proceeded to get to work on removing the layer of grime.

There was very little thought as she moved on through, the damp and stench of mud was enough of an encouragement to her. The belt of weapons, the armour and the coat were all discarded as she padded her way across the entrance room, a stretch out as she begun to pull at the buttons of her shirt and threw away inhibitions for a while. There was no one else to observe after all. The rest of the layers were kicked off at the boundary of the smaller room.

Fingers got to work, the work to create a heat within the under fire, the faint crackling of tinder and later wood. The water pump was given a tug after that, and in time the heat begun the slow process of permeating it. The gentle swishing, the air in the room grew warm, a careful inspection of the flames as the water continued to warm - she dared not to feed it any more out of fear it would boil. Relaxation in the depths came shortly after, a long moaning groan as muscles eased and the body took to easing. Soon, soon the woman would be here and she would have to explain herself - until then, it was alright to relax for a little while, right?

[Zandelia]

After the last two days there was little else that could be done beyond trying to be a part of the world in as blissful a way as was possible given that it was rippling across the city that Bitzer had been killed by hunters. She had refused to believe it at first, instead seeking out contacts and beating the scum of the city senseless to get the information that she assumed to be correct. Yet each encounter had led her towards one conclusion – the rumours were true. It didn't matter that she had faith in her partner, that she had seen her come back from the dead previously. When an entire city seemed to be saying the same thing it became almost impossible to argue with the unity of sound. She was dead...and with that there was naught to do but what she was doing presently.

Getting rapidly drunk and trying to forget. Tomorrow would bring a hangover, would fill her with a vengeful pain against the world that she would harness, a bitterness she would use to cast down those who had been responsible. For now though....for now the proprietor of the Fish Bowl – Manowar – was beginning to give her a look she knew was usually reserved for the inebriated and potentially suicidal. Furtive and brief, glancing to and then away, he was concerned. He had a right to be concerned, she was already past the stage of drinking quietly in the corner alone, now she was engaging the patrons in that truly terrible past time – poor singing. Forgetting her usual composure in both grief and decidedly drunken splendour she was actually managing to get the sailors involved. Voices were raised in song as tankards were swung, whores were fondled and for a little while she forgot that she was murdering song whilst standing upon a table.

Kind friends and companions, come join me in rhyme 
Come lift up your voices in chorus with mine 
Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain 
For we may and might never all meet here again

Here's a health to the company and one to my lass 
Let us drink and be merry all out of one glass 
Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain 
For we may and might never all meet here again

Here's a health to the dear lass that I love so well 
Her style and her beauty, sure none can excel 
There's a smile upon her countenance as she sits on my knee 
Sure there's no one in in this wide world as happy as me

Here's a health to the company and one to my lass 
Let us drink and be merry all out of one glass 
Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain 
For we may and might never all meet here again

Our ship lies at harbour, she's ready to dock 
I hope she's safe landed without any shock 
If ever we should meet again by land or by sea 
I will always remember your kindness to me

Here's a health to the company and one to my lass 
Let us drink and be merry all out of one glass 
Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain 
For we may and might never all meet here again

It was at that point, as the shanty ended, that she fell off the table and slammed into the floor harder than she had done before that night. There were cheers strangely, sailors always loved a spectacle, especially at the expense of others. Not to mention that she had brought some life to the tavern that evening, encouraging both the musicians and the patrons to get involved in creating a truly good atmosphere. It was a sham though, even she had to admit and others were beginning to suspect too no doubt. Her reckless abandon and need for distraction told all to well the fact she was trying to run away from something truly terrible in nature to her mind. Even the song was a mixture of flaying herself and trying to convince herself that the truth was not written in stone. Groggily, her throat sore from the singing, she pushed herself upwards to the chanting.

“Web! Web! Web!”

“Round of drink for everyone!” she shouted from upon her back as she pulled a handful of gold from her pouch and gesticulated at Manowar.

“That's all good Web but not for you, I'll not have a death on my hands here”

“More! More!” the crowd jeered and requested of him.

“Not tonight, settle DOWN!” he shouted at them as he gestured for two guards to help her up.

“I made it a party” she mumbled as the comfort was being ripped from her, what little it was.

“Yes, you did. Helped me out no end. You want a job come here sober tomorrow lass”

She sniggered drunkenly at that, the idea he could afford her true skills – though at that point they would have been useless. She was escorted to the door and it took some time as a few people approached and asked if she would be sailing at any time in the near future, apparently good morale was hard to come by at sea. They were rebuffed and she roared about returning soon, no doubt she;d be drunk for a good while given the circumstances. In short order the cool chill of the night greeted her and she shivered at the sudden change in temperature, the slamming of the door behind her very definite, a guard staying outside to push her away as gently as he could muster.

“Why Web? You're not normally like this” he asked her.

“Lost something” she almost whispered.

“Ah...well...come back tomorrow and we might be able to get Manny to help out with the finding”

“Can't”

“Come back all the same lass, not many able to get fun going like that was. Go home”

She snorted as she began to stumble her way back towards the Quay House, home was hollow without the one who had urged her to purchase the damned thing. Just an empty shell where all she could contemplate was the silence...and the wrath. It was a cruel twist of fate really and she was almost willing to demand that Lhex show himself for a fight to settle the matter but she abandoned the idea as she smacked into a wall and tripped into the dirt. It was a long walk from there, not least because she couldn't truly walk straight. The words of the shanty rang in her ears, the voices lifted in joyful self-expression and hitting her with a barrage that made her own sadness seem all the more potent. The gatehouse loomed, slipping in she stumbled towards the door and after a while managed to open it.


Bleary eyes, from inebriation and silent tears, greeted the muddy boots but failed to register their significance. She did know, however, that someone was in their – no her – home. She pulled out her broadsword shakily and thought that it would be an excellent time to have a petching fight. No words escaped, just the erratic footfalls guiding her through the domain. The sound of water, the sloshing and sifting. She nodded and made her way shakily to the door, shoulder it open dramatically.


“Come on then, all at once or one at a time I'll petching gut you a-” she swung at the air and promptly fell over, “at a time” she wheezed out.

[Fallon]

"Evening Zandelia," Fallon sighed as the door swung open and the drunken slur of her partner echoed on out. She barely had begun her soaking when the woman burst in, sword drawn and a incoherent noise before she had slid to the ground. Fingers rubbed at her jaw, her eyes narrowing into slits as she tried to contemplate what was being said once more. In honesty she had heard the thundering footsteps as she moved on through the building, the faint scent of some gut rot prickling at her senses. No doubt she would have a hangover in the morning - and then all hai would break loose. Before then, it was up to Fallon to make a move.

Water lapped, the hand dangling over the edge as she slowly turned her gaze to the sprawled figure upon the floor. The blade had clattered to the floor, the woman slumping after it as she continued her nonsense. She shook her head, forcing the muscles into life as she gripped the bath side. Pushing herself out she did not think about drying or covering herself, her tired gaze was upon Zandelia as she stepped on over. Crouching, she gently took the hilt of the broadsword and placed it to one side, the green-blue orbs softening as she looked upon that distressed face. Gently the fingers reached down pulling on the shoulders as she hauled the woman up right.

The brow creased, a look to the silent tears and the red eye that marred her face. She brushed a strand of hair from the cheek, tucking it behind the ear as she looked to the shaking form, "Sunshine... hey there." She gave a chew upon her lip, a gentle dip as she kept a hand on the shoulder to hold the woman in place. The other hand gave a wipe away of the tears, an exhale out as the flicker of concern rested there, "Hey... come on. Hush..." Arms pulled, dragging the woman in and against her into a hug. Head against her shoulder, the low hum escaping from her throat as she cradled the other.

"I'm here now, have no fear," fingers slid into the hair, knotting as she continued to hold the drunken mess, "I'm here. I..." There was a gentle press of lips against the woman's forehead, a deep inhale as she took in the scents. Her skin was beginning to chill in the air and her mind thought about escaping back to the warmth of the waters, "I should have come back sooner. I'm sorry for leaving you in the dark. I just," she sighed and shook her head. She knew why she did it, movement, stealth, the realism that she was indeed well and truly gone - no doubt the observers would have seen Zandelia's current state and believed it true themselves. She released the woman, cupping the face and trying to stimulate a response through her drunken state.

"I'll explain when your more sober," she gave a small smile and kissed her on the forehead. There was a glance back to the bath, a small frown, before she turned back. Comfort, reassure, assess, that was what was needed right now. She gave the woman a look up and down, "Come on, it's alright now. I'm here and not going anywhere. Let's..." she gave a tap upon the lips, a flicker of a mischievous smile upon her lips, "Get you cleaned up shall we? Come on, up, one... two... three." She stood, and found herself leaving the woman on the floor instead. Taking a stoop once more she ensured the woman up right once more, "You can do it. Come on, it will make you feel better and get rid of that stench." Fallon sighed and looked to the blouse and moved her hands to the buttons. Whilst it would have been interesting to undress the woman for more pleasurable things, the stench of drink upon her was still somewhat unpleasant to behold, "I'll be here, now get these off. Come on."

[Zandelia]

The world was unfair, she knew that, but how cruel it could be within its web of timing she had never truly experienced. There had been years of suffering but at least those had followed a downward spiral, a discernible pattern that she had been able to predict and brace herself for even at a young age. Survivors in Sunberth learnt very quickly that the good things in life were illusory, fleeting and to be grasped for all their worth before they were ripped away by the brutality. Yet beneath that uncertainty was also a weathered bedrock of reliability, there were usually rules. You could see the dangers coming if you were wise, avert them if you were clever. The difficulties were always in getting established, whether it be business or otherwise. Once established you usually survived…this time it had been the opposite and it was a toxic trickery.

“S’not fair…all…all…tricks. Gives what…what you wants and den…takes! Take’s ‘way” came the murmuring, not aware of her surroundings anymore.

She could feel herself being moved but held no ability to stop herself from being so. Truthfully she was not entirely sure that she cared at that moment, it was far simpler to retreat inwards, slipping into the self and become a cocoon of self-perpetuating joyful experience. There was a philosophical turn of mind there, deep down, that noted how everyone always complained about being bored – yet there, within, was a wealth o memory and experience that was inexhaustible, accessible whenever desired. Yet she complained often of being bored…foolish. Very foolish. She retreated into that night, not the one many might expect, to the night of comforting when she had pushed too far. The scarf around her mouth…how silly. Yet the arms, they had been true in their intent. A soft smile crept across her lips – she was upright now she knew, distantly somewhere up above in the world others occupied.

“Uhhnnn!” was all she managed at the robing fingers, insistent between those familiar but for now unrecognized tones.

She surfaced, briefly, to flail a little in protestation but ultimately it was pointless. Consciousness fragmented once more, as her limbs were given over to this puppeteer. Mysteriously she had not been killed yet, she would normally have latched onto that thought but for now she had not enough concentration. Instead she merely put her trust in her lack of harm so far and, with weak resistance at times, she was slowly stripped. It didn’t help that she could not truly move in a co-ordinated fashion, much less precisely and succinctly. She had managed to get home through sheer willpower and the fact the walls of the buildings were close enough together to slump from one to the other. It therefore took some time for her clothing to be removed, arm slipped around a good set of shoulders and she was heaved upwards. Legs reacted unconsciously to lock out and prevent a fall, swaying with her hidden comrade now.


“Back…sooner? Whu?” her mind was catching up with itself, very slowly but progress was being made, “no back…lost…wolf” her head sagged under its own weight and it felt like it was filled with liquid, sloshing this way and that within until she was queasy, “uuuuhhhh, moving…hate…moving” she blurted out.

“Where…go? Who you?” she asked, blurred vision trying to coalesce several silhouettes into one entity and failing abysmally, she thought she recognized the outline but concentrating upon it, trying to associate it, made her stomach turn, “what…doing?” was the last question she was able to get out before her knees began to shake under the desire to collapse.

Oh…bath…going to drown me. Gone soon. Like all others her mind supplied to her as the rippling of water in the lamp light flickered before her, the sloshing in her ears, the scent of damp in her nostrils.

At least she’d die warm and comfortable, she reasoned. She had no strength to fight, couldn’t be bothered to truly. It all seemed pointless anyway, pointless and stupid. A world where vagik’s survived and decent people were killed, what was the point in living in that world?

[Fallon]

Zandelia burbled, drunken slurs that were growing difficult to understand as she tried to struggle - if it could even be called that. She gave only a sigh, a shake of the head as she managed to finally slip the blouse off the woman. The rest of the articles came shortly after, slipping free from the skin and being neatly dropped to the floor. Inside the warmth begun to fill the air, the slight dampness tingling against the skin as Fallon gently stepped her way across. Her next target was picked out, the sorrowful state of the drunk proving both worrying and amusing.

"Yes. Back sooner. Back," She braced herself, readying to take the weight should a stumble come. The first step, she gave a small guiding nudge forwards, the damp sticking as she lead the way forward, "Just a few steps now Zandelia. And yes. Wolf is back. Back and here. Not lost." a second step, she gave only a low chuckle as she begun to pull the woman slightly firmer. There was a pause a glance down to the trembling legs that seemed to coming closer to going, "You can do it... we're going into the bath. Nice and warm and clean. And I'm your wolf, your Fallon."

It was perhaps then that Fallon silently vowed to never to allow herself to fall into such a drunken stupor - if anything to save from putting the other woman through such potential difficulties. Another step, a deep inhale as she managed to make a smile, "Right now? Guiding you to the bath. And I'll clean you up. Okay? Of course... Just a little further, another two steps. You can do it," There was another pause as she felt the woman tremble. A small push, the last step came and the level of assistance rose once more. Her other arm swung round, a curl of the form as she simply poured her strength into picking the woman up and lowering her into the bath. Which proved more difficult than she first thought with the lolling of the form.

There was a splash her hand slipping out and slamming against the side to stop herself from toppling in. Water rose, a spray as heat and warmth radiated from it. Pulling away she gave a nod to the woman, "See, warmth, clean," there was a flick of droplets upon the face, followed by a low chuckle. Peeling away she proceeded the slow pad around the room acquiring what would be needed for now. Soap for one, the wood bucket for another - for now Zandelia could simply continue in her confused state and little struggling. The rough towel was located and put to one side for later, and in response she simply sauntered back over.

A tap of the chin, she placed a finger beneath it and turned her gaze to her. Fingers gently traced the face, the jaw to the lips, resting there before leaning in. A small brush of lips, the slightly dangerous tone within her voice, "Ready to wake up and sober up are you Sunshine?" She leaned away taking up the bucket and filling it with a might scoop of bath water. It was in one swift movement that she simply tipped the contents above the woman's head. She awaited the surprised gasp, and took her new perch at the bath side dropping the bucket to the floor beside her and playing with the soap with the other hand. A tilt of the head, her lips curling round into a smile, "Ready for a clean up?" She lathered the substance in her hands and placed it within the bucket - safe until further needed - and gave a tap upon the nose, "Let's see how well you scrub up, eh, alcho?"

And with that, Fallon put her hands to work despite any objections that may have come. Fingers gave a rub into the scalp, and lowered gradually to the neck and shoulders. Thumbs rotated, pulling out the small circles as she pulled the soapsuds out across the skin. Briefly she rinsed her hands in the waters, a cup of the face once more as she leaned in, "Shall I start again with what I was saying?"

[Zandelia]

It as the soothing tone again, echoing within her addled skull, as she was urged onwards toward the waters, rippling and giving off a small measure of steam – from the heat her mind supposed in its darkest of depths where it was still relatively cogent. The end, she couldn’t swim in an inch of puddle water at that point so to dump her in was just signing the name on the death warrant. There was still the matter of the effort it took hen a dagger would serve the same purpose but then she had learnt with those children, those poor children, that some people thrived off of the elaborate. Another set of lives she had failed to save completely, it as a fitting mental epitaph to a fruitless existence. She as pushed forwards, slipping into the waters, inching it up her body until it was upon her shoulders. Not much further now she knew it was just a matter of…she had been stopped.

“Bloody…tease” she mumbled, she had been foiled once more, left instead to ponder the meaninglessness of it all in comfort, it was a bitterly tortuous way of battering her mental defences – did she end it all herself? Could she bring herself to-

The world exploded, showered over her head as her body relaxed, slipping ever downwards as muscles reacted to the warmth. She jerked and breathed in, a terrible mistake given the circumstances she had been placed within. Head plummeted underneath the surface as her eyes widened just in time for them to be filled with the waters – heat and shock flinching the eyelids closed in reaction to the sudden flash of pain. She flailed slightly, battling vainly to get back to the surface – she was not done in this world just yet she had decided, in a split-second of non-philosophical consideration – and in her struggling her head rapped against the side. She recoiled and that was the movement that brought her back above the water, chest heaving as she tried to breathe in. It proved difficult after getting a breath full of water and she coughed it up violently, retching and shuddering as the world blurred through the tears and bathwater. The first few breaths felt like her chest had been put through a mincer, fragmented and laced with pain – thankfully it abated slightly, though did not disappear entirely.

Bloody body likes to let me know when it doesn’t like something, well get used to it. Life’s a…bitch…and…the- she thought, scraping her vision clear, or hat as clear for a still half-drunk melancholic.

She didn’t get much time for realization, the hands were back though this time they were covered with suds and all she could ascertain was a blur f white followed by the most painfully relaxing ministration she could remember – clearly a message was being sent, though what that was she could not contend with given the pulsating between enjoyment of the scents and the massage and protestations at the fact her body had already taken a pounding and was no taking another one – even if it was designed to help said body out in the longer view. Time didn’t quite feel right and coupled with the fact that this was not howw one usually killed another she could only presume this as an ally – only one person recently had had the temerity to touch her so familiarly and she was dead. Right?

“Wrong…” she muttered, the end turning into somewhat of a growl as existence finally crystalized that moment it had been trying to ram through her eyeball from the beginning, “…you….you,” she cast around for a word that would work, would convey the rising frustration, anger and sheer relief-filled joy she was currently feeling – it was useless.

“YOU!” she pointed a finger and dramatically slid beneath the waters once more, righting herself more rapidly than before, “where have you…no not even….do you realize what I….you were dead! And then there was the….don’t you ever do that to me again!” she shouted, actually shouted for once.

Then, because Fate can never resist itself, she lost her footing and slapped beneath the waters once more.

[Fallon]

Fallon blinked, her eyes simply staring as the woman, moaning almost into the touch as she felt her way forward. The bucket was taken up once more, filled with the water and poured slower this time across the head. The other hand gave a ruffle of the hair shaking out the soap that maybe have accumulated there before the woman begun her mumbling. A cock of the head to one side, she placed down the bucket as she took herself to simply listening and observing to the attempting to find words. Lips curled into a soft smile, another low chuckle as she stumbled and inevitably shouted.

There was a noticeable flinch, a lean back as she raised her brow and gazed upon the woman gave her point. Silence was her answer for the moment, taking and absorbing the scowling she was receiving. Whilst it was acceptable, Fallon still had her reasons to stay away. Freedom, movement, the ability to rat out and deal with enemies. Small alliances were formed and the woman - whilst it was cruel to make her do so - had played her part out splendidly. When the woman slipped however, there was little more than laughter and the reaching out of hands. Underneath the armpits she pulled the woman upright and into the air once more, a shake of the head as she seemed to continue to struggle staying up right. With a tut, Fallon brought herself up and to the back, a small encouraging nudge forward in the bath before she promptly slid herself behind the woman. A low sigh, the arms wrapping round and pulling her back across her chest, a rest of the forehead into the crook of her neck.

A squeeze, the support to stop her intoxicated slipping beneath the surface once more as she simply embraced her. It was then, so clear yet so quiet that Fallon let out a whisper, "I am here. It's okay now. I'm not going anywhere. I promise, I'll try not to do that again. Not intentionally at least. Promise," There was a gentle press of lips a lean back into the bath edge whilst her legs simply stretched out and around beneath the waters her toes nowhere near the far edge. Hands released, slipping and moving, tracing across the spine and downwards once more. Thumbs rotated, fingers pressed easing into the tensed flesh and muscle. It was then gently she begun to gently rub, feeling with the tips of her fingers. Gradually, the pressure grew, looking to sooth and calm her woman the best she could.

"I'm sorry I had to do that to you," she breathed, her gaze averting as she refused to make eye contact for a moment. There was a moment of tenseness in her own form, waiting a further curse and spit of angered words - she did deserve it in this case after all, and would take it all the same. The hands moved higher, reaching up into shoulder blades and rubbing. Slow, steady, the fingers peeled into the palms as she tested and felt her way through, "It was hard. And I'm sorry for the pain I caused you. But... I didn't really have much of a choice. Please understand." Circles, pulling, smoothing, the warm water aiding the process. Her hands peeled away, taking up the bar of soap once more.

Sliding it across the back she continued the focused scrub down. The intention was clear, calm, gather, sooth - she was not looking for trouble. Eyes gave a flicker, finally willing to meet should Zandelia look back, a sheepish chew upon her lip as she considered her options. With a low hum she spoke up once more, weighing up almost her next move, "You probably have a few questions. Or a lot to say... right?" A blink, she lowered the soap once more and gave a rinse of the skin. For a moment she traced the few scars with her finger tips and then pulled away. It was from there that her arms simply slipped over the bath side and she poured all her attention onto Zandelia, "What will correct what I have done? What would you ask of me? Or like me to answer for that matter?"

[Zandelia]

Any dramatic effect caused by her rising sense of wrath had been defeated by her own slippery feet, the soles losing purchase so that her perfectly valid points – as she saw them – were put paid before they even managed to touch the inside of her lips let alone escape from them. There as just the shrill sound, half-scream and half-shout, to the accompaniment of laughter, rich and melodious. Within she seethed, though it had been cooled by the impromptu dunking somewhat, accepting the help of the other though she truly just felt like slapping her – very firmly indeed. She had no strength for such a fight though, that much as clear and so there was little resistance that could be offered to the subsequent motions, the slipping behind and the gentle supporting. It eroded her desire to be contrary, her need to express the grief now shown to be a sham the only ay she knew how at that moment – through shouting. There was little she could do but relax into the body beneath her, to experience it after thinking it gone forever.

It was insistent, the tones filled with real emotion even if the apologies were outweighed within by the sense of what she had felt herself, the weight of such things would be difficult to balance with words though they were a fragrant balm of distraction that allowed her a few moments of respite and solace, just to sit and for everything to be right – the way it should be. The half-inebriation worked wonders also, her usually stolid stubbornness now eroding more easily than had she been sober. There was a deep sigh as the words washed over her ears, soothing and matching the fingers becoming so practised at easing the tension of tired and old muscles. Soothing, yes that as the word. It sprang from a ell-intentioned source no doubt but was quite fortuitous in its double benefits.

Alive…she is alive. A damned bitch for not telling me…whatever it was…but still. Alive. Better than dead, oh yes. Much better indeed, though I’m liable to kill her myself. Well…perhaps not that far. The nice treatment goes some way to apologizing, the words too…perhaps not quite enough though she mused as her eye closed and she just leant, the warmth of the water lapping at them both.

“Fine…no more shouting. For now. I want to know what happened, if it was worth my sanity being risked. I swear to the goes themselves if it’s not I’ll be redding your rear for a month. Every damned day” she muttered, still a surly and tight tone to her voice.

“I understand, you’re sorry. I guess I’m sorry for thinking you weren’t too stubborn to stay alive. But one petching missive, one note…not much to ask for is it? I can act you know. Do you have any idea what I’ve been-“ she stopped then and huffed out a long, deep breath before she went any further, seeking composure.

“I’m not sure there’s anything to be corrected yet, depends. Make me understand. I will decide I if have anything to say after” she managed to actually sound neutral then, a fragile grip upon the stance.

It was only fair, it even chimed neatly with the way she usually lived her life – get all of the arguments before you pass judgment. Try to see things from every possible angle so as to make sure you don’t miss anything. Gather as much data as possible so you were not made to look the fool. It was difficult, not just because of the emotive nature of what had happened but because she had less control upon her tongue than usual. There was the lingering sense that saying the wrong thing here could lead to something terrible indeed. Fallon must have already felt guilty, she could see when she glanced back and hear in the voice. Yet it was difficult. This as the second time Fallon had returned from the dead, albeit this time had been harsher and she had been less wise the first time. Still, she was not sure she would survive a third. That much was probably clear by now to all parties.

“No more words from me,” she raised her hands in a gesture of peace before crossing them upon her chest and tilting her head to look back briefly, “you…explain. What happened?” she asked directly, focusing her gaze carefully upon the far wall and directing her mental surging into the woodwork as if exorcising them through mental expulsion.

[Fallon]

With that Zandelia begun her relaxing back into her, allowing and accepting the support where it came. Fallon herself simply continued her leaning back into the bath, her eyes pulling into narrows as she tried to gather her thoughts together for what was to come. For now however she would simply relax with the heat an muscle, the gentle flaring of nostrils as she took in the clean scents in the air. Eyes gave a blink, arms lifting and wrapping round once more as she fell back into simply holding the form and the embrace that seemed to erode away her resolve to fight back. Sighing herself she listened to the mumbles of the woman as she simply surrendered to the pulling notions.

"Good... no more shouting," she repeated, a slight stiffening of the body as it tried to relax. The last few days had been rough and demanding, whatever place she could crawl into became her bed, and more often than not she slept with one eye open - waiting almost for someone to attempt to spring upon her. Paranoia became her best friend in those last few days, but now she had returned she looked to at least right that. Another sigh, her eyes lifted and looked to the woman atop her, fingers gingerly reaching up to stroke at the hair, "Comfy there now? Good. Good. And I will tell you."

A pat, a low hum filled her voice once more as she thought. Thoughts were gathered, searching for a place to start it all despite her drunken partner's slurs. It made her consider how in depth she should go, and what the best way to avoid further scorn. Fingers continued their idle playing, and Fallon begun, "It begun a few days ago, on the fifth. I was doing some investigating and got caught. Some others, may have been the Amber waves for all I know, managed to grab me and tie me up. Threw me off the boat to drown in the waters. Probably heard that rumour, eh?" She paused and frowned for a moment as she tried to recall the names, "Of course, I didn't. There was a watching Zeltivan at the docks, called himself Palaren Marshall. Or Uncle. Wasn't sure if that was flirt or an act to try and intimidate. Either way, he's a good swimmer. Dove in and dragged me out."

Fallon shrugged at that point, her eyes peering over the shoulder and curves towards the wall - it gave her opportunity to focus. Fingers gave a flex, her cheeks puffing as she continued, "I didn't really have much time, and minimising contact with others was necessary. People know my face, and whilst I know you're a good actress... I guess... It was the risk of information falling into the wrong hands." Her hand withdrew then, the gaze averting once more, thumbs twiddled, a flicker to the gaze as the woman looked back. She returned it for a moment, and then averted her eyes once more, "After that, I made a move against a few slavers, as well those who were using and claiming my name in such circles. You not heard that there was a slaver referring to himself as Red Wolf?"

She shook her head, "Either way, it was dealt with. The opportunity was ripe and their guard was down because a threat was dealt with." Fallon let her head roll forward and her forehead rest upon the woman's shoulder, a tight squeeze as she curled in, "I wanted to come back sooner. But I had to deal with these things first. I know that isn't... it probably won't be good enough of an answer for you," She peeled away then, shoulders hunching in and a mop of hair covering her eyes, "But that's what happened, not much else to it. I eliminated risks to us, made some enemies disappear. It was for safety. Protection. Least, that was my intention."

A low rough exhale, the hands moved away to hug at her shoulders and almost braced for further judgement to be thrown at her, "Is that good enough for you? I'm not really sure what else I could try and explain. It just turned into a blur... But, I'm back now. Alive and well, is... that okay?"

[Zandelia]

Logic, she usually loved the process of logical thought but at that moment she wished it would leave and drown itself somewhere else – it was getting in the way of her perfectly reasonable reactions. Even if they were more emotively based than factually correct in nature. She as torn as she had not been torn before, she loved Fallon and the fact that she was back – alive and well if obviously worn – filled her with a relief and joy that pulsated in her chest. Yet there was an anger there too, seething and just waiting t break free – that she had not been trusted, that she had been ignored or seen as superfluous. She knew, deep down, that that was not the case but it didn’t stop it feeling that way. Her lips were pressed tightly together as she listened, fingers gripping her arms firmly until white skin as found beneath. Breathing was controlled, if with some effort.

It was a short tale, clearly with things left out of it and providing the basic common thread and possessed of an emotive slant that rang true but merely served to annoy her further, it got in the ay of the frustrated self-expression and thus made her more frustrated. She wondered, briefly, if it was because she didn’t want to worry or because she thought she was foolish that the details were left out about this ‘dealing with’ the problems – presumably it had involved as assault where she had risked her life further without even asking for help or even if help could be given. Someone had tried to kill her partner and she had not even been allowed to help protect her, the job dictated to others who presumably barely knew Fallon. A smart move but still marginally hurtful. She bit her li and tasted blood, she had bitten it too hard.

Damn it! Now I’ve got to deal with a petching mouth wound….petching worst! And then there’s the bloody forthright manner…’I’m back, glad huh?’…and the- her mental processes descended into a series of criticisms and ranting that were wisely kept silent though her body tensed further and further as they continued.

And then the story was over, the tale fulfilled and told – r the parts of it carefully chosen at least. Was she so fearful of her response that she held things back, rationed them out as if to a child? She hadn’t even seen her angry before, not truly angry – not like the way she was snow at any rate. The anger of battle was different to the anger of being cast off, made to suffer even if for a few days. It wasn’t even so much that which raised it ascendant, it was that she had been fooled, sucked in and had not trusted the strength of Fallon to return with such a tale. Perhaps if she had been stronger she wouldn’t now be feeling stupid, foolish and pointless. Her jaw clenched and then relaxed, seeking calm.

“So…you got captured and then your first thought was to wade into battle to deal with the problem. Did you think, perhaps, that you could have used help of someone trusted beyond the common sell sword. I am thankful this…Uncle…was there but…I’d rather have been there myself” she stated flatly, gaze still focused upon the far wall.

“You…are an idiot, you know that right? You let me think you were dead! And I as an idiot to believe it! My own stupid fault, bloody idiots…the pair of us! Did you think you could just walk in and then I’d be fine?! Having a bloody bath as if nothing had happened” she asked tersely, tone straining now.

“I love you, love that you’re back…gods it’s the best surprise ever. But…I still felt what I felt,” she pushed herself upwards then, trying to stand as water sprayed around her and her footing slipped slightly until she found stability, “I already lost my eye in our times together, I’m not losing my sanity as well! Understand? You ever do something like this again and I’ll drown you myself, I swear I will. Are we clear?” she turned and shot was could only be called ‘a look’.

“Next time you’re surrounded by enemies, fighting for your life and in the unknown remember the promise we made to each other. I know your memory is not that bad! Risks or no, you had better bloody well remember. I’d rather fight beside you and die than go through…that…again. I made a bloody fool of myself before the whole damned city too….oh petch it” she finally breathed out the last of her frustration and anger, legs slumping so that she was sat opposite the other now, there was little point to this.

It released the poison within but did little else other than that, what had happened as not able to be undone. She should be thankful that Fallon was alive, safe and well. She was in point of fact, no the haze was leaving her and sobriety was beginning to edge in with the beginnings of a throbbing headache. She rubbed her eye sockets with the heels of her palms and groaned out the last of her anger, she was not an angry person by nature. Her temper was usually held well enough but it had slipped slightly, she began reigning it in. Losing it had been only minimal, all things considered, but she didn’t trust herself not to lose it completely. The whole thing…pointless.

“Let’s just…just….oh I don’t know. Talk about something else…I…I’m sorry. Just…oh petch it all” she leant back and covered her face as she breathed deeply.