This is how you properly relationship.
This is how you properly relationship.
"No husband of mine would be out at all hours and come home too drunk to screw," Daryl teased him, though the exhaustion in her voice suggested that she had been more worried about Locke than she wanted to let on. She ruffled his hair affectionately. "Where ya been, anyway?"
She had had a date, of sorts, but she needed Locke to sober up a bit before he was worth talking to. Making battle plans with an inebriated partner was nothing but trouble.
"Ain’t never too drunk to screw," Locke replied, nudging her with his boot. Leaning into her touch like a lovelorn dog, he sighed. "I met up with a guy I thought was dead." Eyes sliding shut, he shook his head. "Returner buddy. Got stuck on the southern continent when the ports were shut down, back in the day. He was… one o’ my best friends so… losin’ him was rough."
For a moment, he dozed, before remembering himself. “Been followin’ the mayor around. My buddy and him, and another group o’ guys… They’re up to somethin’, but I ain’t sure what. I’m gonna work on Sam a bit, see if I can’t get some info outta him.”
FFVI - Four friends
[/shakes hand] “Treasure hunter, huh? Anything fancy? Crown jewels of a lost civilization?”
"Hell yeah, if I’m lucky!" *rears back, hands on his waist* "Though I mostly specialize in treasure o’ the mystical variety. Rune-enhanced, soul-imbued, stuff like that."
It was amazing that he’d managed to keep his gob shut until then. A wry look turned on him as Faris’s lips pressed thin. The bag over their shoulder was heavy, but they knew the one Locke carried was heavier. It was hard, in that moment, to decide exactly how to phrase this. They’d been practising the words in their mind all the way to the inn and still felt as lost as a child.
It wasn’t until they’d reached the stairs that Faris answered, eyes troubled and tired. "I’ve lost th’ Diamond.”
What were they now, a pirate without a ship? It was like they were caged, trapped on lang with not a lick of water in sight, gasping for the sea. It was a physical ache inside their chest, even as their head murmured ‘A ship is just wood and sails, it’s th’ people that give her soul’.
"I ain’t.. a Captain any more."
Locke nearly dropped the bag he was carrying. Leaning heavily against the door, he stared at Faris for a moment. Blinking it off, he unlocked the door for them. “Wh— how?? Why??? Another band of pirates or somethin’?” he cried, holding the door open for Faris. That would explain Faris’s battered condition, anyway.
"We can get your ship back somehow. I’ll help you any way I can, alright?" Locke knew how much the Diamond meant to Faris, and he’d spent so many mornings hanging around the cabin there… It’d be strange to never see it again.
Settling with the bag he carried, he reached to grab Faris’s bag as well. “What about your crew?? Are your men alright??” Once they were unburdened, the searched the room for a basin to fill up with water.
Daryl lay where she had flopped backwards on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She was exhausted, but there was no chance of falling asleep. Not when her mind was whirring with the beginnings of a plan. She replayed the past two days in her head, committing every detail to memory so she could share it with Locke when he returned to their room at the inn.
The silk of the red dress she was wearing was both cool and unwelcome against her skin. It wasn’t that the outfit was uncomfortable; just that its slit up her thigh and plunging neckline had subjected her to more ogling than she found enjoyable. Being admired was pleasant, until the admiration became more sinister and closed in around her in a way that made her feel deprived of air.
She had already kicked off her shoes near the door, and she hoped Locke wouldn’t trip over them on his way in. Wherever he was, he was out rather late, and she hoped he hadn’t met with some trouble. She would give him ten more minutes before she got herself dressed and went looking for him. Gods knew that thief wasn’t dying on her watch.
Early in the morning Locke finally returned, smelling of smoke and booze, with a wide smile on his features. After tripping over her shoes with a squawk, he tried to creep into the room quietly before realizing Daryl was still awake.
"Well, look at you. Fancy pants." Crawling onto the bed beside her, he sprawled ungraciously on his stomach. "…fancy… not pants." Pillowing his head on his arms, he turned his head toward her, lulled by the faint smell of her perfume. "Lookin’ too damn good for Maranda, t’be honest. You have a date?" Smirking, he purred, "Your husband ain’t gonna approve o’ that."
have you ever just looked at someone and thought, my fucking god i love you. i love every goddamn ounce. i love your bones and your soul. but I’m a loser, who just doesn’t wanna lose you. i can lose fucking everything, but not you. oh god. not you.
They’d warned him they were coming - that the tides heralded their return unto this world of ruin and that Locke was the one they would first seek out. But still, Faris’s step was heavy, reluctant, defeated. They’d fought for their title - tooth and nail, hand to hand, but there was one horrid fact that the pirate had long ago faced: no matter how much they tried, they were still small, they were still weaker than the average man, for all they were twice as ruthless. They were beatable.
And beaten, had Faris been. It was sheer honour and good will that they’d been left with all their possessions, but the Diamond and their Captaincy, was gone. All that was left of it was a dream, and sails slowly disappearing into the morning air.
Their lip stung and their body ached, but determination kept Faris upright and walking - a tired kind of stagger - unto the inn.
At first, Locke only emerged from the dining room out of curiosity. A buzz had begun throughout the building about a stranger with a split lip at the front desk. It wasn’t until he peeked around the corner that he realized who it was.
Crossing the expanse between them, it took all his willpower to keep from reaching out and inspecting the captain’s wounds in front of everyone. After anxiously watching Faris check in, he grabbed up their things and walked with them to their room. As soon as they were out of earshot, he cried, “What happened?? Are you alright??”
"Interesting people? The Drowning Wench should be full of them by now."
"The Who-ning What? That sounds like a place to go if you wanna lose your liver.”
Not that I don’t mind those places occasionally…
"Nope. We’ve never introduced each other. Would you simply like a first name or a full name, including a middle name, or a straight up full with middle name legal name?"
*laughs and scratches his head* “Whatever you’re most comfortable with, my friend. I ain’t a formal type o’ guy.” *extends hand* “Locke Cole.”