12-12-2021, 07:47 PM
When the door closed behind her she took a breath and leaned against it. The one-eyed man stared sternly from the wall, and Thalia frowned at the reminder, tamping down the anxiety he invoked. Her gaze traversed the scribbled landscape, following its path backwards. A strange and jumbled place of shadowy cave walls, impossible mountains, and a gaudy wagon at its centre. A wide-eyed child cowering under a bed. Moscow’s Arch and the city in ruins. She stared at that the longest, feeling it press on her soul the same way as the red painting. The one she had destroyed.
Bad dreams, that was all. It was what Aylin would reassure her, and it wasn’t true, but it was a lie she needed right now.
Warm water soothed cold and tired muscles. She didn’t hurry, sure the two in the adjacent room would have words to exchange they’d prefer her not to hear. After washing she gingerly crouched by the mirror, still propped wonkily on the floor. Her knees drew up tight, gaze averted -- then eyes closed entirely when she acknowledged how afraid she was of what she might see. She counted her own breaths until she found the courage to open them.
“Oh.”
The word tumbled out like relief. The tension drained. “It’s just you.”
And she looked like shit. Really.
Thalia scooted closer to assess the wound. The skin had split a little, back into her hairline, the wound still jammed with old blood. Mostly it was just an impressive bruise beginning to spill like ink across her forehead. The cut was a little awkward to see exactly in the mirror angle, but she’d lived alone long enough that it didn’t phase her. She shifted to dig around in her bag for the supplies she had bought for her injured hand, only to pause when she unearthed her Wallet instead. A message flashed, from hours ago. Aylin.
Just come home, Thalia.
Then, another.
Please.
Guilt gnawed. Sadness. She tapped out a reply before she could overthink it.
I’m fine, sis. Slept out under the stars last night. The fresh air here is good. T
It wasn’t a lie, but it felt wrong. She didn’t like the distance it created, or how alone it made her feel, but the remnants of their last conversation drifted like wreckage. She buried her phone back under the crumpled and loose sketches, didn’t let her mind wander down that tributary. She couldn’t afford the doubt, not now: that her mind had cracked, finally.
Afterwards she swallowed two pain pills (or, that’s what she thought they were, the box was in Estonian), and did the best she could to clean and tend the cut on her head. It could probably do with something to hold the edges closed while it healed, but after her encounter with the doctor … well, she was going to have to make do. For now she braided a section of hair close to her skull, pinching the skin as best she could. The pain watered her eyes and whimpered something like a low gasp, but her fingers were nimble and it was done quickly. After a final thought she rubbed some of the antiseptic on her leg, too, just for good measure, then pulled on the clothes Sierra had given her.
[[OOC: I'm not sure if we are all waiting for me. I was going to wait for you guys to finish talking. You can assume Thalia will stay in the bathroom until she feels like it's a good time to come out. Or, just let me know when you're ready to move on]]
Bad dreams, that was all. It was what Aylin would reassure her, and it wasn’t true, but it was a lie she needed right now.
Warm water soothed cold and tired muscles. She didn’t hurry, sure the two in the adjacent room would have words to exchange they’d prefer her not to hear. After washing she gingerly crouched by the mirror, still propped wonkily on the floor. Her knees drew up tight, gaze averted -- then eyes closed entirely when she acknowledged how afraid she was of what she might see. She counted her own breaths until she found the courage to open them.
“Oh.”
The word tumbled out like relief. The tension drained. “It’s just you.”
And she looked like shit. Really.
Thalia scooted closer to assess the wound. The skin had split a little, back into her hairline, the wound still jammed with old blood. Mostly it was just an impressive bruise beginning to spill like ink across her forehead. The cut was a little awkward to see exactly in the mirror angle, but she’d lived alone long enough that it didn’t phase her. She shifted to dig around in her bag for the supplies she had bought for her injured hand, only to pause when she unearthed her Wallet instead. A message flashed, from hours ago. Aylin.
Just come home, Thalia.
Then, another.
Please.
Guilt gnawed. Sadness. She tapped out a reply before she could overthink it.
I’m fine, sis. Slept out under the stars last night. The fresh air here is good. T
It wasn’t a lie, but it felt wrong. She didn’t like the distance it created, or how alone it made her feel, but the remnants of their last conversation drifted like wreckage. She buried her phone back under the crumpled and loose sketches, didn’t let her mind wander down that tributary. She couldn’t afford the doubt, not now: that her mind had cracked, finally.
Afterwards she swallowed two pain pills (or, that’s what she thought they were, the box was in Estonian), and did the best she could to clean and tend the cut on her head. It could probably do with something to hold the edges closed while it healed, but after her encounter with the doctor … well, she was going to have to make do. For now she braided a section of hair close to her skull, pinching the skin as best she could. The pain watered her eyes and whimpered something like a low gasp, but her fingers were nimble and it was done quickly. After a final thought she rubbed some of the antiseptic on her leg, too, just for good measure, then pulled on the clothes Sierra had given her.
[[OOC: I'm not sure if we are all waiting for me. I was going to wait for you guys to finish talking. You can assume Thalia will stay in the bathroom until she feels like it's a good time to come out. Or, just let me know when you're ready to move on]]
![[Image: thal-banner-scaled.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/08/thal-banner-scaled.jpg)