Pirates of the Hard Nox [Open]

That meeting had gone about as well as could have been expected. Lucien had thrown a chair. Emer looked like she was on the verge of collapsing, and now she and the lizardman had gone off somewhere private to consult. Juniper had forgotten their promise almost as soon as they'd made it; maybe they'd overestimated Hester's ability to walk. The food and water was gone; Hester hadn't bothered trying to get any of it, and had pretended not to notice Beck attempting to give her a piece of apple. It felt nicer to just sit here, on this bit of chair and stay still. As if she were part of the mansion. As if she'd been here for centuries.

"I'll just, um... Take a rest, I think. Let me know if you find any good bones." She doubted anyone could hear her, but at least now she'd have plausible deniability if someone asked why she wasn't working.

These people just weren't good at staying in one place, were they? Vena hadn't said anything through the whole discussion. Apparently the talky-man - the quartermaster, one of the others had called him - had been the one who'd done in the old Captain. Well, that was fair enough. He did the quartermaster thing and divided up the supplies available and told the others to go find some more, and the Baron tried to get things back in order. Juniper had wandered off with the lass who'd shot them, which Vena definitely had some intrigue about, but whatever was going on there wasn't going to develop if they tagged along. A few of the others slipped off as well, including the Baron and the woman who was definitely in charge of all this even if they were all pretending she wasn't.

Which left a much more quiet room and a bleeding incoherent lass muttering about bones. Vena went over to her because it was better than standing there alone, sitting down for a moment, then handing her a clean handkerchief without saying anything about it. It wasn't so much an offer of aid as an offer of trade, but people got weird about that. "Do you need bones? I can look around."

She flinched at the shout and the flung jacket, body tensing, lowering her head slightly and lifting her hands up between them. She lowered them not a moment later, relaxing, leaning in. She wanted to interrupt him. To cut him off. She just - didn't entirely know what to say. She only knew he was saying things she didn't want to hear.

It was a tempting offer, and that made it all the worse.

Away from all this. Away from the pain, from the danger, from the constant loss. But - away from the sky. Away from her folk.

"I cannot."

She whispered it. She met his eyes, her own wide and damp, and whispered it in the space between them.

"I cannot, Emryk."

And yes, it was because she was afraid to leave. Yes, it was because she knew little else at this point. Yes, it was because of her own desires. But there was something else, there. Were it only that - she might have accepted. She might have taken his hand, and ran off, and never looked back.

"They need me." She touched his hand with the back of hers. "You understand, Emryk. They need me. At least - at least for now."

She glanced over her shoulder, back at the mansion.

"Maybe - when things have settled, I might like that. When - things are better, for them. But to leave them now, like this, would be - too selfish for me to forgive."

Hester held the substitute's gaze, for a moment. Her gaze was surprisingly steady, for somebody who'd been mumbling about hunger and creation just minutes ago. Finally, her eyes drifted away, somewhere to Vena's left.

"Well, I haven't exactly got much experience with colour coordination, have I? King had us wearing white at all hours, and before that..." A shrug. A smile. The handkerchief wasn't exactly going to do much to stop to stop the bleeding. No doubt they knew that. And she could see their hair; it was pretty obvious what they were going to do with it, when you took a moment to think about it. Still, she slid the handkerchief over her neck wound, careful not to disturb the burns or to rub too much dirt into anything tender. There was plenty more on her back, by now, but she couldn't exactly reach that comfortably in her current state. Honestly, it did make her feel a little better to be a little less of a mess.

"Quarter-ghoul. Fair warning. Don't swallow any, if you've not got a supernatural constitution. No idea what it'd do. Haven't tested it." A pause. "Don't tell anyone, please. Would look bad if you found out before anyone else here." Another pause. "But it's effectively just embroidery, yes. If you kill me, I'll drag you down to meet God." One, last pause. "I'd appreciate the help, though. Thank you for offering. Sorry."