very_sharpe | (no subject)

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The shop had survived the Purge night in one piece, more or less, but Thomas felt shattered through and through.

At the moment he was bringing stock out of the back, putting things on display once more. Before the Purge, he and Steve had cleared the entire front of the store, removing anything valuable, so that if anyone did manage to break in, there wouldn't be too much to damage that couldn't be fixed.

He moved slowly, though. He had hoped work would help to get his mind off of things, but he couldn't focus. He wore all black, which was unusual since he'd started living here. Every part of him felt heavy. He couldn't believe that she was dead. After everything they had been through, everything she had survived. How could it have ended like this?

What was he going to do?

Thomas was drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of the little bell over the front door of the shop.

"Sorry, we aren't properly open-- Oh, Daine. Please, come in."

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"You expect folk to just go home, not... this." Daine's lost people that way. It hurt, but at least she could tell herself that they'd only left Darrow -- not so bad a thing. Lucky, even. But she doesn't know what dying here means for things in Thomas and Edith's realm. Maybe there's an Edith who's still there, alive and well, as if Darrow never happened.

She wonders if she should say as much, but it's not something she wants to guess at if there's a chance of her being wrong. It's probably occurred to Thomas already. And even if it's true, part of Edith is still here, and needs to be put to rest.

If Thomas were anyone else, Daine thinks she would've just hugged him already. He's so proper, though, that she can't bring herself to just wrap her arms around him whether he wants her to or not. Still, it's with a hint of stubborn insistence that she twists her hand around so she can curl her fingers around his palm, bringing his hand down so she can press it between the both of hers.

"I s'pose it's down to what you want," she points out, albeit gently. It's different in her realm -- she knows, now, how lucky she is to be from a world where the dead have someplace set for them to go -- but funerals and such are more for the sake of the living, or so it seems to her. "Or whatever's normal in your realm." She doesn't pretend to know what Edith would want, they'd only met the once, but she doesn't think Edith would fault Thomas for whatever choice he might make.

It's not as if either of them had expected this.

Daine pats the back of his hand once, then releases him. "Do you want help?" she asks, gesturing around the shop.

Thomas smiled when she caught his hand like that; he curled his fingers around hers, holding as best he can.

"I suppose that's so, isn't it?"

He thought he knew what Edith might want, and he would try to be as faithful to that as possible. He had failed her in life, more than once. The least he could do was try to bring her peace in death.

He gently set Kitten back down so that she was free to wander; he quietly thanked her before he let her go. "Yes, actually, I would quite appreciate that if you don't mind. We put everything away for the Purge. I'm grateful none of our windows were shattered."

Kitten lets out a soft cheep of acknowledgment, patting his hand with one paw as he sets her down. Then she trundles off to look around the strangely empty storefront, though she does take care to avoid the windows. There's no broken glass to worry about, but she still doesn't want to be spotted by strangers.

"It was smart to take everything out beforehand," Daine says. "It must not have seemed worth bothering with." It's still lucky that his windows are intact, considering how many folk were smashing things up just for the fun of it, but that probably goes without saying.

With a tired huff, she adds, "Course, it would've been smartest not to have it in the first place. I s'pose now everyone will pretend it never happened."

"I can't imagine why the government thought it was a good idea. And I suppose it was rather disappointing to see how many people indulged in-- in more extreme things."

Thomas frowned as he headed towards the back of the shop, hoping Daine would follow. He was still a bit out of sorts, not articulating himself as well as he normally might. He found one of the larger pieces and gently lifted it - it wasn't terribly heavy, just... rather big.

"Were you safe?"

Daine lifts her shoulders in a world-weary shrug; being disappointed would mean she'd expected better from folk, and she's not so sure about that. Between the bandits that razed her home and Ozorne's underhanded tactics, she's seen plenty of the worst two-leggers have to offer. The only part of the Purge that truly shocks her is the government trying to pretend it was a good thing.

She follows Thomas to the back, then steps forward to support the other side of the piece. It doesn't look especially heavy, but his head isn't really in it, and she doesn't want him to add 'dropping an expensive bit of woodwork' to the list of things that've gone wrong.

"Was anyone?" she asks in turn with a wry twist of her lips. "I was well enough. I had a bow, and my magic. Spent most of the night making sure no one troubled the farmhouse." She hadn't spent the whole night there, of course, and she has the mild injuries to prove it. It's cool enough that all her bruises are hid beneath her clothing, and her hair does a good job of hiding the scrape across her forehead, but the latter is still there to be seen, provided folk do more than give her a cursory glance.

"I suppose not, in a manner of speaking," he admitted. Even if people weren't out and about, Thomas was sure many of them spent most of the night terrified of what might happen.

Never mind the earthquake.

Thomas was just grateful the building was undamaged, despite the shaking, and that none of this work had been irreparably harmed.

With Daine's help, he got the larger piece set down on its proper display table. Thomas sighed and pushed his hair back, just sort of looking at it for a moment.

He looks at the piece as if he expects it to say something helpful. Daine glances around the shopfront again, noting how much progress he's made, wondering just how long he's been at it.

Surely he doesn't expect to reopen today. There can't be that much of a rush, not with everyone still cleaning up.

"Why don't we take a break," Daine suggests, her tone gentle but firm. "We could get some tea and--and go to the beach, or out to the farmhouse, and I'll introduce you to some of my friends." Getting out of town, away from all the clearest evidence of what transpired last night, seems like a good idea. And Mithros knows there's no better cure for the foolishness two-leggers get up to than spending time with the People, if you ask her.

Her voice drew him back out of it and a small smile tugged at his mouth. Still sad, but better than nothing, wasn't it?

"I think I would like that very much. Any combination of that, really." Whether they went to the beach or out into the country, Thomas thought a nice cup of tea and being somewhere else sounded like just the thing he needed.

Daine lets out a quiet breath when he comes back to himself, smiling in turn, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Kit," she says, bending to lift open the backpack for her. If the dragonet is bothered by how brief their visit to the shop has been, she knows better than to show it. Instead, she clambers back into the pack without complaint.

"Maybe the countryside would be better," Daine says as she shrugs on the pack, her gaze distant. The beach is near enough to town that it's more likely to still be a mess, now that she thinks about it. She would like to show Thomas the seals -- they're sweet and charming, once you get past their shyness -- but if they're going to be picking around broken glass, it wouldn't be safe for any of them.

Saying as much would bring the mood back down, though. "It's normal enough around the farmhouse," she says instead. "There are just a few spots we'd want to avoid. Some folk who got too close ran into a few skunk friends of mine." Venturing a more genuine smile, she adds, "You could meet them, if you liked. I ought to thank them in person."

Thomas laughed a bit as he collected his coat, his gloves, his scarf. He made sure that he had his keys so he could lock the shop up behind them.

"I suppose I wouldn't mind meeting some skunks, so long as you could promise me that we'll be safe. I don't know how many baths it would take to get that smell off, but I'm not overly eager to find out."

He was certainly in need of distraction, but he would rather not have that kind of distraction.

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