Nevermind, I'll find someone liiiiiiike youuuuu.

[allyorfoe]

Who| Tabris and Shepard
What| Trash Heroes Club has been TORN APART BY TUMULTUOUS CONFESSIONS. Now it's time for Tabris to get trashed while she mourns this tragic turn of events, and Shepard attempts to fix things.
Where| The Foxhole
When| April 13th
Warnings/Notes| Drunkenness, swearing, girls being bros



Tabris has been noticeably depressed for the past few days, slumping around and staring off into the distance. At least one person has asked if something was wrong with her and Alistair. Alistair's been whined at incessantly. Someone finally took the drastic measure of suggesting one of the bars popular with the tributes, that she could get suitably smashed at alone.

And that was exactly what she was doing, sitting at a table, nursing a drink, and sighing repeatedly. How dare Shepard laugh at her. Ugh!! Some of us still have hearts!!! Not everyone can just walk off things like that--Let alone do it!!! MAKER!!!!!!!

She huffed at the glass, causing one or two of the other people there to glance at her irately. In their defense, she'd been huffing and puffing at her drinks for the last half hour, and they were probably getting sick of her taking her feelings out on the glass.

She only made this worse by letting out a whine, and leaning her head on the table. This was when she really wanted her mabari. She'd contemplated getting a dog, she was allowed to buy stuff here, right? But the dog would only get to spend half it's time with her. She'd be spending a month or two in the arenas. Unless she just started dying off quickly, which was starting to sound like the better option. Die quick, get to go back to civilization and alcohol.

Would avoxes be able to walk dogs?

Comments

[earthborn]

Shepard is not the kind of woman to hold a grudge. There are some people she'll never like, but by and large, her relationships with her enemies are often less about history than personality-- about ideologies and intent, rather than the bullshit world of what couldn't be changed. You couldn't sleep well at night and also hold onto all that shit; you couldn't regret every little mistake, or it would eat you alive.

But she knew a thing or two about second chances, and even more about making mistakes, and forgiveness. It's not in her nature to leave well enough alone. So, however drunk you think you are, Tabris, Shepard's just about sober and sliding into the next seat down the bar.

"Alright, I think you've had just about enough," you couldn't just stop looking after people just because they were surly and reactive, after all, "You wanna talk about it, or should I go first this time?"

[allyorfoe]

There's a cautious air to the way Tabris eyes her, half expecting a lecture. That she's had enough is up for debate, Tabris is pretty sure that she has had a perfect amount. "Don't worry, my mabari can walk me home." She mutters, then stops for a moment, looking at the bar. "...Oh. He's not here. They should have let me bring my dog." She sighs, closing her eyes.

She wants to snap at Shepard, because she's got a lot of nerve, just waltzing in here. She decides that a bit of obnoxiousness was in order, and she grumbles at Shepard, small incoherent whining noises. With that out of the way, she sits up, propping her chin on a fist.

She's not sure what to make of her feelings right now. The alcohol certainly hasn't made anything clearer, and the fact remains that Tabris had thought of herself as someone willing to do the dirty things. Someone who was willing to get their hands dirty with the kinds of things that didn't wash out, that haunted your dreams for years. But Shepard had made her feel...naive, almost. Shepard had crossed lines even Tabris couldn't.

She wasn't sure what to make of that.

"You can go first."

[earthborn]

How many times had she crossed this line before? After Torfan, Shepard had had the naivete to think back on what she'd seen and hope to be called a hero for the blood she'd spilled to repay it. That was the last of it, really, the last of that belief that people should be good-- that they could be better. Every now and then she might get to hoping, that stupid children's hope, and every time... Well, the Geth would be what they would be.

"Listen, Tabris...about what I said..." Shepard sighed, ran a hand through her hair. How many times in her life did she have to apologize for speaking the truth? She could hear, like a phantom, Joker's voice in her ear: Well, once would be nice.

"Look, the arenas are... fiction. They feel pretty damn real, but the only real risk there, is whether or not they bring you back when you die. We have to remember why any of it is happening, why we're here. I have to, actually. It's not us versus the rest of them, it's all of us versus them; the tributes aren't your enemy, even when they kill you, even when they hurt somebody you love," Thane had the right of it, after all. In the truest sense, they were merely weapons, like a gun that fired bloodsport and propaganda, "That blood is on the Capitol's hands, the Gamemakers, ultimately President Snow. Nick and Me and everyone else in there, we're just... Trapped."

[allyorfoe]

Fingers interlace and lock together, hands pressed to her lips as she stared off. She didn't meet Shepard's eyes as she explained herself, but the elf listened closely. And she knew that Shepard was right. It wasn't like Nick had really killed Bayard, after all. The boy had sprouted back up just the same, no trauma, no understanding of what happened. It was the government that had done this to him really, a corrupt government that didn't see them as people.

But Tabris knew that dismantling governments was a lot harder of a goal than killing the people who pissed her off.

She took a long drink before she spoke, thinking on her words. It was a little hard to form the exact words that she wanted, to piece them together coherently. But once she was pretty sure, she put the glass down. Start with the hard part. It was muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Shepard to catch.

"Wardens can't have children, for the most part. It's part of the Joining. Renders us pretty much infertile. Me and Alistair tried. Got pretty close. Real close. But. Didn't work." She was staring right at the drink, gripping it tightly. Just another month, and maybe it would've stood a chance. But it didn't. "Stopped after that. Would've been...right about Bayard's age. He's a good kid. Has that messy brown hair, and that stupid dimple." She took a deep breath, then turned to Shepard, voice still low, but in a dangerous hiss. Not dangerous for Shepard, but for the people that have crossed her.

"You're right, Shepard. You are absolutely right. This is the Gamemaker's fault, this is that idiot president's fault, this is the government's fault. And we're just little puppets dancing around for them, and Nick is just playing his part. But I can't do anything about this fucking government. I can't punch these Gamemakers until I'm squishing brainbits with my knuckles. But I can punch Nick. He's real, and tangible, and in my reach. So I'm gonna hold this against him, and I'm gonna gun for him as soon as the arena opens up. Because I've got these fucking strings on, too, but I need to do something."

[earthborn]

Shepard thought about that, for a moment, turned it over on her tongue, cold and sharp, painfully so. Suddenly, Jane wanted to hit Tabris, and the bartender, and anyone who came too close. She wanted to break things and push noses into brain cavities and bite down on fingers until they came off in her mouth like carrots. Shepard tasted salt and bitter herbs. She didn't want to know this, didn't want to carry the burden of Tabris' little secret, like some kind of Shadow Broker.

She said nothing.

"That's fine by me. But keep it straight in your head-- that's the arena. That's vid drama, not reality. Don't let it mess you up, because I need you as you are," Hard, hard, hard, and cold, that was the embrace of duty. But in the end, it was right, "You're strong, Tabris. We all have our grief, but none of that can stand in the way. You know that, don't you?"

[allyorfoe]

Tabris smiles, and it's a bitter smile. Suck it up. Don't show weakness. That's what she's been doing her entire life, Shepard. She let a little bit slip out, and already regretted it. Bottle it back up, Tabris, there's only one person allowed to see you when you're weak. Allowed to see you in pain.

She knows the routine, and she nods, because that's what people like they were had to do. Shepard had her own dirty little secrets that ate at her. Tabris didn't know what they were, but she knew they existed, because Shepard was too much like her, and had too much of a burden on her shoulders to not have that grief. And who could she share it with?

"I know." She said, finally, and her voice is hard. She wants to cry. She wants to scream. She wants to take all this hurt and all these bitter secrets out and she wants to throw them at people. She wants to get on TV and tell everyone every weakness in her soul, and spill out her secrets for the world. She wants to be empty.
Or it could be the alcohol talking. It doesn't matter. No weaknesses were allowed. They had to save the world, and they had to keep it together. Shepard needed her, but so did the whole damn world.

"You're right. I know."

[earthborn]

"No, you don't," Shepard sighed, and reached out to knock on Tabris' skull, suddenly fond for this drunken sop, "Not really. You still wanna hope. You want to save that kid."

Hypocrite Shepard, Commander of the Normandy. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"It's gonna hurt."

[allyorfoe]

"Life hurts." She responds, a little melodramatic, but she felt it suited the conversation. Or maybe she was just really drunk. She stared at the drink as she contemplated this. "Being a Warden is about the greater sacrifice. That's what we do." She closed her eyes, and recited the creed she knew as well as her own name. "In peace, vigilance. In war, victory. In death, sacrifice."

Opening her eyes, she shot Shepard a small smile. "Hurting for the greater good is the name of the game, Commander. You know that."

[earthborn]

"The whole duty/sacrifice dichotomy makes for a really shitty birthday card, just so you know," She held out her hand, palm-up, in invitation, "C'mon, let's get eat some cake. You can vomit on the carpet and piss Porrim off, that always cheers me up."

Could it really be that easy, for once?

"Truce?"

[allyorfoe]

"I will happily accept this task provided. Both the cake, and the puking." Tabris assured her, a wry smile on her lips. It was okay. Everything was going to be okay. The hand was accepted, and squeezed, the wryness melting into a genuine warmth. Even totally sloshed--And maybe aided by it--Tabris was a woman who made friends fast, and stuck to them. It wouldn't be that easy to get rid of her.

"You got it, Commander."