very_sharpe | (no subject)

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daine,
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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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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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