[open] did I build this ship to wreck

[Tiasa]

A haughty version of delight courses through Tiasa when her plan succeeds and she is spared from having to start a conversation. It is better this way, makes more sense too, for her to be the one approached. For her to be sought out, even if only for a handful of words. She does not know how long this venture into the world will last - perhaps she will be reminded of why she prefers her own company and retreat for another dozen years. Only to come back in again, like a very slow tide. One pulled back and forth by her self-inflicted loneliness instead of the moon. She does not think him remarkable at a glance, all shadows except for those yellow eyes that stand out garishly from the rest of him. And she knows so little of the world that she does not expect there to be anything more than what she can see at a glance - because that is how she has always expected others to view her. Not knowing what else may linger beneath the surface. That delight is tempered somewhat when she is not greeted as she ought to be - with awe and devotion - but instead with a mention of her mother. Tiasa does remember her mother being beautiful, though, and this thought soothes her. She regards this shadowy being for a moment, tilting her flower-and-seaglass crowned head just slightly to the side before replying boldly in voice that should be smooth as liquid mercury, but instead is raspy like his (though hers is this way from lack of use). “Is that a point in my favour, or against it?” Tiasa reprimands herself for taking care of a great many things except the tool she actually needs to communicate. Disappearing for another dozen years is already looking like the more attractive option. tiasa

art by dozymare