It's become something of a weekly ritual (not always, but near enough) that Amity and Mavis take a little self-care spa night for themselves. Amity likes to have time alone with her girlfriend that's intimate, but not necessarily /sexy/, so to speak. And this is one way of doing it. The pair of them hijack the bathroom, run a piping hot bath, light candles, turn off the lights, and soak together, often with facemasks or other cosmetic nonsense (Amity loves that kind of thing) and tonight there's a fruity, flowery smelling bathbomb that Amity got for Christmas in use. Amity is sat back against the tub, Mavis leaning back against /her/ and is lazily lathering Mavis' hair with an equally fruity and flowery smelling shampoo. Really, it's an excuse to give the shorter woman a scalp massage.
"Your hair is going to be totally shiny and healthy and gorgeous when we finish," Amity is saying, a smile on her lips. "Not that your hair isn't already all of those things but it'll be /more/ of that." There's something relaxing about taking care of others. Or at least it eases the anxiety that always seems to gna away in the pit of her stomach. Her fingers work slowly, dragging against scalp and massaging in small circles. Amity's own hair is wrapped up in a towel. "You've been kinda quiet tonight, though. Something on your mind?"
Mavis meeeelll-llts under that scalp massage, those deft, attentive fingers in her thick mop of hair working at the roots and against her skull. She looks forward to these nights, too, for multiple reasons. The cunning, little human also knew that if she behaved herself throughout the entire evening then Amity would let her do-- well, almost-- anything she wanted to her later. It was a win/win anyway you looked at it.
She huffs at the tender promises, keeping her eyes closed and body relaxed against the Lost woman behind her. "What, like it wasn't before?" Mavis is teasing, of course, and she smoothes a sudsy hand down Amity's left thigh, drawing in a deep, even breath, and digging in her nails. She grins, head gently nudged this way and that by Amity's fingertips rubbing against her scalp while her girlfriend quickly assures her. Mavis "mmmmhn's" in a low tone, relaxing further only to flinch when Amity asks her that. Mavis glances out of the corner of her eye back at the changeling, although she couldn't actually see her without turning her head. But, Mavis could picture Amity's face right now.
"Yeah, babe. Actually, there is," she admits in a conversational tone. Might as well plunge onwards, Amity had already picked up on her silence. And lying about it would do them no favors. "I talked to Nat today. We made up on Christmas morning, I asked her 'round for coffee and donuts." This what a bit of a strange lead, but Mavis breaks it down in a fashion that almost sounds scripted. Like she had thought about this. "I really appreciate you making an effort with November," she says to Amity, voice turning affection. "And, I was really, really wrong about what you and Nathania were hiding." It stung to admit that, but admitting it made her feel less guilty about it all. That was why mending the gap with Nathania had been important to her. "Heh, she's really awesome. And, well, we got to talking more after I apologized. When I told her I know about the Lost and all that, she told me about her OTHER job. As a Blackbird." Pause. "Do you know what they do?"
"Oh! You should have told me, I'd have made something..." Amity is an almost compulsive hostess. No one comes in the house without at least getting the offer of a cup of coffee, if not Amity outright making them food or doing some other small kindness. She tilts her head a little, her voice amused as she listens to Mavis talk. Her fingers continue working, slowly moving back across the crown of the other woman's head as they chat. "Heh. It's okay. I'm sorry I tried to hide the truth from you then, honestly." Guilt creeps into her voice but before she can flagellate herself, Amity is asked another question.
"Oh, yes, the Blackbirds. They like to help people to help the Freehold. For a price." She taps her fingers lightly against Mavis' head. "Why?"
"It's okay, you were at work and I figured she might be alone for the holidays," Mavis murmurs to Amity, subtly nudging her head against the Lost's fingertips when they stop what they were doing that felt so lovely and good. Plus, if her girlfriend was massaging her scalp then she knew Amity couldn't be THAT mad. Yet. Nudge-bump. Hey, rub me.
"Yeah," she goes, lifting one bared, wet shoulder to shrug. "Pretty much. She's got a boyfriend, Briar. He's a Blackbird too." Mavis lets that sink in and she lifts one bronze, shapely calf, and delicately boned ankle and foot out of the water then lowers her leg back down without a splash. "He was with Nat today. They brought cookies," she tacks on, keeping her voice as soft and warm as the candle light. "But, y'know. I was thinking maybe we could go see 'em. I asked about it, the "price" is just a favor. Usually to do something good." And here she didn't want to get involved with the Freehold. What a little hypocrite. "Or, like, a raincheck."
Amity's fingers resume their motion a moment after Mavis nudges bak at her hands. Okay, okay. She gets it. Amity can't see Mavis' face now, so she struggles (a little) to be sure of what the mortal woman is thinking of feeling in this moment. Her eyes follow the motion of the ankle, then she sighs and lowers her head. "I was wondering where those cookies came from," she murmurs first, as if the sudden arrival of sweet treats is what's really important in this moment. Her massaging stops and she shakes her wrists out before she begins to stretch each arm. A deliberate pause, most likely. Her voice drops a little, softer. Quieter.
"Why go see them?" Another pause, this one a touch longer. "I thought you wanted to avoid getting twisted up in the Freehold business? Trust me, pledging to the Freehold is one thing but owing a service to the Blackbirds is completely another." A breath. Her lips purse together into a small frown. "Sorry. I'm a little confused, Mav."
Perfect. Amity couldn't glean anything from the top of Mavis' shiny, black crown and she relaxes once more when those fingers resume their task. A softly crooned noise of "nnmh" is made and Mavis shifts her shoulders, resettling them like an owl floofing its feathers. Her girlfriend removes her hands, though, and Mavis' nose scrunches up as annoyance flickers across her face. She keeps her tone the same as before.
"Yeah, so? I was wrong," she admits while sitting up, pulling away from Amity in an easy motion that reveals her slick back, shoulders, and, when she reaches to gather her hair up, the nape of her neck. She has a surgical scar running down her spine from a childhood accident. Fell from a roof, but it could have been worse if she hadn't broken her fall with her hands. Other surgical scars run along both of her wrists and up the insides of her forearms, usually layered with bracelets, but those are removed at present.
"Help me rinse my hair?"
"Of course, yeah..." Amity replies absently as she reaches over for the empty container set at the edge of the bath for this purpose. Filling it, she dumps it over the top of Mavis' head without preamble, letting the sudden rush of water whisk away shampoo. She takes a moment then, reaches out to ease fingers along the nape of her girlfriend's neck as she tries to figure out what to say next. She scoops up another container of water and lets it fall over Mavis' head before Amity seems able to find words.
"So. Why do you want us to go see them, then?"
Mavis tilts her head back, letting the water rinse through her hair. She aids this by running her hands through the black strands and the mortal's locks spills between her fingers like ink. Her head turns, ever to slightly, at the touch to the back of her neck. Her eyes are closed, dark lashes lowered, and she has the brow that Amity can see softly arched. It was one of those mysterious "looks" Mavis gave her girlfriend sometimes, except she could manage to do it without even opening her eyes by now. She tilts her head back again for the second spill of water, doing the same in running her hands over her hair to rinse it clean.
"Cos," she states flatly. "Nathania's our friend and she wants to help? Don't you think you should -talk- to somebody about whatever's going on with you?"
Amity looks back at Mavis, sighs so quietly she can barely be heard at that look. She's not sure /what/ it means this time but... she's sure she'll figure it out eventually. She sets aside her rinsing contained and leans back, hands resting against Mavis' shoulders where they touch lightly. At Mavis' stated reason she looks away and leans back as well, creating a touch of space.
"I'm fine," she says after a moment of consideration. "I just need to do my best to put it all behind me."
Mavis shifts her shoulders under Amity's hands in much the same way she had nudged her head beneath the woman's fingers. Rub me, touch me. If the changeling was going to lay her hands THERE then she might as well be kneading her tense muscles and shoulders.
"Are you, though? Babe, look." And she turns her head again to look at Amity, raising her arms to gather twist up her hair and wring it into a loose bun that was going in unwind again in a matter of minutes. She turns her upper torso a little, presenting more of her face (among other things) and a pretty frown. "I don't think it could hurt any to sit down and talk with someone. We've got.. problems." It was back to "we" and "us" again. "And, we need some help. Maybe from professionals. I mean, really, if I'm going to join the Freehold then we might as well take advantage of it, shouldn't we?"
"What does that mean? I'm fine." For a given definition of 'fine,' anyway. Amity's hands rest where she laid them for a moment. Then, slowly, she pulls them back to disconnect herself, a physical withdrawal to match her mood. She's quiet, her jaw clenching tight for a brief instant before she takes a breath. She just has to settle herself and it'll be okay. It's okay. "What makes you think we need help? Like, the two of us together?
The water slides around Mavis as Amity leans away from her and the mortal's sigh is more audible than the Lost's had been. It's an exhale of quiet vexation and Mavis lets Amity know this by slipping away from her too. She turns more in the bathtub, folding a leg and slinging an arm over the lip of the tub to twist and stare at Amity.
"Are you serious? How about.. when I touch you and you shatter into tears? Or, what about YOU," she says sharply, lifting her other hand out of the water to point at Amity, "pinning everything down, pretending it's all okay when it isn't. Just like right now. I'm here for you, hon, through thick and thin. What about going are you so afraid of?"
Amity folds her arms across her slender chest, watching as Mavis tugs herself away as well. She had expected that, if she was honest with herself. Mavis can be... frustrating. She bites down a little on her lower lip, brow furrowing just a touch as she processes the other's words.
"It's /fine/," she insists. "It's okay. Pretending isn't... it seems like such a poor word. I'm just trying to get through my life, Mavis. I don't... I'm not made of glass. I won't /break/."
Frustrating? Well, that's a bit of the pot calling the kettle black. Mavis huffs quietly, nostrils flaring, and that defiance creeps into the mortal's face like a mare tasting the bridle for the first time. She gives an almost coltish toss of her head and lowers the hand she'd pointed at Amity with back down. Mavis glares at her uncompliant mate for several long seconds. Amity never did answer her question. What was she so afraid of about going to see the Blackbirds?
"It's the PERFECT word," she announces, leaning in to hiss at Amity. "And you are lying to us both right now. If you don't want to go, then I'll go myself. The Bishopric of Blackbirds here, at least, WILL strike bargains with mortals."
Amity's reserved frown flattens out into a mask of indifference. She leans back against the tub, her eyes closing as she tries to make sense of this. Why is Mavis insisting on this? Why is she trying to get more tangled up when before she had been insistent on staying out of everything to do with the Lost? November, of course. Had to be it. Amity's eyes open and she speaks calmly. Cooly. Detached, almost.
"I've never lied to you," she says. "If that's really what you want to do, then go. I won't try and stop you." Trying to insist to Mavis that she /not/ do that will only make things harder. Make things worse. Just let her do what she wants, at least that's the thought that passes through Amity's head. "Though I'd suggest not getting into more debt with Lost than you have to. You never know what sort of favor they might end up asking of you."
Mavis watches Amity, both of her eyebrows raising in forced patience (which isn't a thing, by the way) as the changeling lounges against the back of the tub. She knew what her girlfriend was doing. She was shutting down and Mavis was standing up. Water sloshes inside of the tub and suddenly Amity has a tawny-skinned, dripping wet, and stark naked mortal glaring down at her in silent, but palpable, fury. If Mavis is even aware that she's still nude, standing in the middle of a bathtub, then she shows no sign of being subdued by this.
"Fuck." Mavis reaches for a towel, winds it around herself, and steps out of the bathtub like royalty exiting a horsedrawn and regal carraige. "You."
"Fuck /me/?" Amity stares up at Mavis, her face still impassive. Her eyes do narrow a little, the Changeling starting to let a little anger leak out into her voice in spite of herself. She doesn't want to be angry. She wants to hide the emotion back behind the safe, protective mask she wears so often. Something about Mavis opens her up a little, tears at the edges of her self-imposed distance from the rest of the world.
"You're the one who changes her mind about these things every time I turn around. When I tried to talk to you about the Freehold /before/ you didn't want to get involved, but you talk to /November/ and then you're all over this. You don't want to get involved in Changeling politics and society but then Nathania and Briar come by and now you want to drag me along to the Blackbirds? Because you think I'm too /fragile/?" She leans over against the side of the tub, watching Mavis as she moves. More spite is leaking into her voice now, trickling from her mouth like venom. "It's starting to feel like you care about everyone's opinion but mine. I don't /need/ the Blackbirds. I'm managing myself just /fine/. Why is it that I can never get you to listen to me but I have to do everything the way you want, Mavis? I've given you all the space you want, I've kept my mouth shut about how uncomfortable I get about certain people, I've never tried to make you do a /thing/ you don't want to do. I wish you'd be that thoughtful about /me/." Her voice has risen, not quite a yell but a sharp, angry knifeblade that cuts into the awkard tension filling the room. "So you don't get to say 'fuck you' and stomp off to sulk because I said no for once."
Mavis keeps it off of her face, out of her eyes, and away from her voice, but Amity's apathetic words had wounded her. They'd reached in and struck her heart like it'd been a bell and and that ringing is still singing in Mavis' ears. She plays them back, one by one, agonizing over each syllable; Amity did not care. Deep, deep down past her hurt, Mavis knew that she did, though.
Her jaw clamps shut as the slander about November is drummed out and Mavis clutches her towel tightly around herself. The fist gripping it turns white-knuckled as Amity continues on. What she hated most about the words she was hearing was that she had no way to refute them. She wanted to scream at her, shout that Nathania was their friend and, yes, November too was their friend. She wants to yell that she was doing this all for Amity, because Amity wouldn't for herself. Instead, her voice comes out just as flat as before.
"If you don't want to help us then fine," she says coolly, slowly turning her head to glimpse over a frosty shoulder at Amity. "Stay out of the way, that's what you do."
"Is this about us? Really?" Amity is getting to her feet now, water sloshing in the tub and cooling against her skin to bite as she reaches for her own towel. "Because you seemed to want to make it about how I'm pretending to be okay a minute ago." The words tumble out before Amity can stop them. She's so taut, normally. So in control. And for once it feels good to let herself say whatever she wants, to indulge in the hurt and jealousy and spite that roil her gut and make her chest ache. Mavis' last words catch her a moment later and she freezes, half in and half out of the bathtub, trembling.
"No. Fuck. No." She shoves herself the rest of the way out of the tub to hurry after Mavis, not even bothering to pause to dry herself. "Fuck you, Mav, you don't--" She's trembling though whether from cold or anger she doesn't know. "You don't get to throw that at me like that. You don't get to say that to me when you don't understand what it means. When you don't /try/ to understand!"
"How is that NOT about us, Amity?" Mavis whirls around on Amity, nose-to-nose, her tone lashing with barely restrained frustration. "I -do- try to understand, but-- fuck YOU!" There it is. The yelling. The same yelling she had shouted down onto Thea in a mostly vacant parking lot at 2am a couple of weeks ago. "Fuck you for treating me like a child. You don't talk to me, Amity! You just bottle it the fuck up and twist a lid on!"
The doorknob to the bathroom door is clutched in her grip. Mavis isn't sure how her hand got to be around it, but she twists the door open with a yank and there's a loud THUD as it smacks into the wall. She's rolling down the hallway like a storm.
-> >> Thea to Here << <-==============================================
Rolled 3 Successes
< 1 4 4 6 7 8 8 9 >
================================-> >> Wyrd + Presence No Flags << <-
GAME: Thea spends 1 Glamour
"'Ello, love."
The words are reflexive, tumbling out of Thea's lips as she finds herself in the path of tropical storm Mavis.
Thea's presence *should* be shocking. Unexpected. There's no path of destruction behind her. Did she get a key? Pick the lock? She, notably, is fully clothed. It's notable, at least to her, because she certainly notices that Mavis isn't. Her gaze dips -- again, a reflex! -- before she catches herself and forcibly returns her gaze to Mavis' face.
Cough.
"I was in the neighbourhood and well," she presses off the wall she'd been leaning against and takes steps towards Mavis (and presumably Amity) "-you've both got a set of pipes on ya, didnae know?"
"If you want it to be about us, then maybe /listen/ to me!" Amity is stalking after Mavis, half-wrapped in a towel and spitting angry words as she goes. "Maybe make me feel like you /care/ what I have to say! How am I supposed to tell you about it when you'd rather hear what you want from someone else? Huh? What's--" Amity comes up short with a breathy little shriek as she finds that there is a stranger in her house. Well, kind of. Thea isn't a stranger, but is perhaps worse. Amity clutches her towel against herself and her anger immediately switches targets as panic spikes in her chest.
"Get /out/ of my /house/," Amity says, her voice rising into an uncharacteristic shriek. "Get out!"
Mavis stops up short, boggling at the person at the end of her hallway. She had been stalking full tilt down it, presumably to swing up onto the stairs and stamp up those to her bedroom. Her expression shifts almost comically from surprise to relief, then from relief to anger and, finally, to realized guilt as Amity's rowdy voices crowds in behind her. Getting louder. It occurs to her that now is NOT a good time for Thea to be here and Mavis has to stop herself from rushing forward to usher the Summer back out into the night. It was too late for that, Amity is right at her shoulder shrieking. Mavis crinkles her nose, already fuming from their active argument, and rounds on her.
"Jesus Christ. It's -just- Thea. Amity, Thea." Clutching her towel and hitching it higher, feeling it prudent to do this with Amity right there and bellowing at the Summer, Mavis glares from one to the other as she makes that introduction. She growls out the rest. "Thea, Amity."
The soft line of the mortal's jaw tightens as she lets her gaze pull back to Thea. "I'm -fine-, THANKS."
Then, back to Amity. "She's just breaking in to make sure I'm okay."
Get out?
Thea pointedly looks away as Amity emerges from the bathroom all nakey, though, if this was some attempt at tact surely she should have made a greater effort to hide the grin? The bright-haired Lost bites her bottom lip, but even so, a flash of lightly pointed canine is visible as her vividly purple gaze briefly goes skyward.
"Mmn, nah." She exhales in response to Amity's shriek, before returning her gaze with shocking intensity to the other Lost. "Nah, I don't reckon I will."
As mentioned before, Thea's dressed. Leather jacket, moisture dewy on the leather from the rain outside. Worn denim jeans -- less stylishly worn, more.. old. Well loved. She's wearing brilliantly tie died t-shirt. Glasses. A rolled cigarette kept for later at her left ear. Her fingers are visible, no gloves, violently coloured ink on display. Her jeans pockets seem to be full. Wallet? Keys? Something else?
Thea swaggers forward, closer and closer to both Mavis and Amity, light glinting off her glasses as she reaches for something in her pocket-- her phone. Her pockets still seem full, even with the brick removed. Just broke in because she was trying to protect Mavis? "True, but not the whole truth, love. Yeh invited me to celebrate with yeh, remember?"
At that, Thea proceeds brandish the Nokia as if it entirely excuses her presence. The tiny colour screen of the budget mobile has a pretty NSFW picture. A familiar and feminine set of hips, studded belt pulled open, picture frozen in the act of pushing down some pretty, pretty panties. "Admittedly, I'm a bit late. I would've used th' doorbell, but with all the screaming- well."
"What's goin' on?"
"/Just/ Thea," Amity repeats, looking a little incredulous as she tightens her grip on the towel wrapped around her. Honestly, with her build, it looks like it could go around her a couple times. She glowers at the intruder, her usual polite mask of passive calm completely ripped away by the loud argument. "I don't appreciate people barging into my home like this," she says, her voice calmer than before but still crackling with an unhappy energy as she nudges herself in close to Mavis' side. It's a little territorial, a little practical because wow she feels even more exposed than usual without any clothes. She squints at Thea, the white-hot rage starting to cool into an icy anger.
"If you were invited, Mavis would have said so to me." She trusts Mavis to do that much. Trusts her to tell her if someone is going to be coming to their shared space. She can trust her for that, right? There's a blink and she squints again, focusing on the picture on Thea's phone. She blinks and the color drains away from her face after a moment. Mavis can feel Amity's hand clutching at her arm, fingers digging against her skin as the Lost woman struggles to keep herself on an even keel. "...Mavis?" The anger is gone. Just exhaustion and confusion now. Her attention focuses back on Thea's face from her phone. "What's going on is that you need to leave. Now."
When Thea refuses to leave, Mavis closes her eyes and draws in a slow, exasperated breath through her nose. She tries to find her patience, her serenity, her good-natured sass, but this situation had just careened from bad to DISASTER. Her girlfriend is screaming in one ear, Thea is smarming in the other and whipping out her phone. Mavis' attention snaps to the device and her eyes widen, almost fearful. Hadn't she granted Thea permission to use a picture of her as a background? Yep. She catches an eyeful of herself in that brief brandishing of Thea's phone.
"Oh! Oh! Oh God,," she blurts out, flustered. A fearful glance skips from Thea over to Amity. Shit-fuck-hell this was HER fault. Mavis doesn't even have the presence of mind to snap at Thea to mind her own business when she asks what the pair of lovebirds had been shouting about. Her gaze hinges on Amity and Mavis' shoulders raise sheepishly higher. The stems of her collarbones stand out, leading to the delicate hollow of her throat. "I-- I'm sorry, I forgot I invited her over the other day."
On Christmas, actually, for the DAY OF CHRISTMAS, but apparently Thea is cashing in on that invitation tonight. Mavis shoots Thea a covert glare by turning her head so that Amity couldn't see the bitter expression written all over the mortal's face. But, then Amity's hand was around her arm and grasping her. It might have been to steel the blonde Lost, but Mavis slowly turns her head back and looks down at where her girlfriend has a possessive hold on her. She pulls with her arm.
"No," she barks. There's a stinging second of silence after it. "Let me go." Somewhere in the house, Mavis' phone dings with a text message from Casper. What timing. "We're both leaving. You don't care what I do, remember?"
"I ain't leaving." Thea insists, albeit a bit less insistent than a moment ago. There's hesitation now. Hesitation when Amity says that Mavis would've told her if Thea had been invited. A slow blink. And then Mavis explains about Christmas, and Thea nods! The wild shag of curls bounces with the motion, cigarette shifting, almost coming loose.
What? She seems to say, with her body language. I *was* invited. "Like I said, just a smidge late, Amity, love. But I mean, Christmas spirit and--"
Pause. The athletic woman stands tall. Or rather, stretches out, leaning one arm against the corridor wall as she watches what's going on between Amity and Mavis aaand only then shoves her phone back in her pocket. Fumbles, actually.
We're both leaving. Another slooow blink. "Uh.. 'Scuse?" What part of 'I'm not leaving', had these two failed to understand? "Look, all right. Maybe I shouldn't have got involved, but it's a bit too late for that now, innit. I'd rather not be cursed. So. What can I do to help?"
Amity's breath catches as Mavis says 'no.' She's shivering. Trying to keep herself together. Everything that she has counted as stable for the last couple of months seems to be on the verge of collapsing around her ears. Her heart is pounding so loudly that for a moment she isn't sure that she heard Mavis right. "What?" She says, though she knows what's happening. Her hand releases Mavis automatically, Amity's eyes getting wider and wider and her face getting paler and paler.
"Please. No. Please don't go. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Mav..." She feels hot tears prickling in her eyes and she hates it. She should be in control of herself, be able to handle this like an adult but it isn't working, she can't find steady enough ground to anchor herself and she feels the world spinning out of control. "Mavis, please don't go. I'm sorry--I'm sorry, I--" She feels the tears rolling down her cheeks and she can't stop them, can't stop anything from happening. Just like November and Alexander. Just like the one who took her. She's too weak and foolish. Too much of a background character. She should have known, right? That this was too good to last? She flinches away from Mavis, almost cowering.
"I'm sorry. I--" She coughs, feels a rough sob tear itself free of her throat and she can't stop it. Weak. "I care what you do. I care--you're the most important person I have left in the world--I care, I'm sorry--" She's breaking into pieces in slow motion, she can feel it, little bits of the controlled persona she tries so hard to maintain shedding from her and vanishing as if consumed by Thea's flame. She wants to reach out, forces her hands to stay at her side, clinging to her towel. Mavis said no. Mavis said no, so she can't.
"I don't..." She shakes her head, "...I just...I didn't want to stop you if that's what you wanted..." She feels so small. Small and utterly worthless.
"I don't know," she says to Thea, all of her ill-feeling towards the other woman subsumed into the deep well of self-loathing that yawns beneath Amity's feet. "I don't know. I just... I don't know how to help either..." She slumps against the wall of the hallways, tries to take a shaky breath that doesn't quite work out.
Mavis is released. She pulls her arm closer to her body, glaring at Amity while keeping the other arm clutched over her towel, ensuring that it doesn't slide off of her. Then, she turns away from Amity and breezes the rest of the way down the hallway and past Thea. She is about to make her way up the stairs then stops, however, at the bottommost step to stare over the railing in cold shock at the pleading, crying Lost. Her lips softly part, mouth opening slightly.
The mortal then shoots Thea a fierce stare, closing her mouth and scowling at her. She wanted to call Thea a stubburn git and tell the woman, after all, to get out without her. But, Amity was pouring her hurt out and she looked so-sooo-soooo frail with her slim body twined within that bath towel. Fragile.
Mavis frowns, closes her eyes, and sighs, "Fuck." She opens her eyes again, feeling them sting at the sight of Amity like this. Her words wailed into Mavis' ears and twisted at her.
"Hey," she murmurs, voice soft. It might have been too quiet for Amity to hear, but Mavis brushes by Thea again. Closer, laying gentle hands on her girlfriends biceps, she says it again. "Hey.. Look, babe, stop. I'm NOT trying to leave-you-leave, m'just frustrated." She tries to put herself more between Amity and Thea, shielding her girlfriend's vulnerability from the Summer with her shoulders. "And I want you to go talk to these Blackbird guys, but-- look-- I can't make you do it." Just like Amity couldn't seem to force Mavis to do anything Mavis was against. "I really, really think WE need to talk to someone who's equipped to handle this 'cos.." She pauses, frowning sadly again. "We're not?" Handling it.
Mavis hugs her, then turns her head on Amity's shoulder to say to Thea, "Now's.. Kind of a bad time."
Thea frowns.
It wasn't like she'd come here to give Amity a mental breakdown. She's a bit of a jerk, but she's not **really** such an unfeeling asshole.
"I--" Yeah, her voice trails off. A bad time? "Look, I can see that. But honestly, I can't.. actually walk away now, until I'm sure that you're safe? Protected?" She glances from Mavis to Amity. "..and that includes from yourself, love. What's going on? Who are these Blackbird jokers?"
Exhale, more frowning. Still leaning on the wall, unyielding. Not budging a step.
"I just.. came around to drop off a Christmas present."
Thea says, "Or really, the promise of one -- or two. They isn't finished yet."
As soon as Mavis' hands touch against her shoulders, Amity collapses into the other woman. There's a deep sense of relief. She hasn't ruined everything. Things will be okay. It will be okay. She can... she can do this. Deep breaths. Deep. Breaths.
"Yes, okay..." She mumbles. "We'll go together." Maybe talking about it with someone would help? She takes another shaky breath and her eyes slide over towards Thea. She feels exhausted, too worn down to be angry or defensive. "The Bishoporic of Blackbirds. The local ones, um..." She actually wasn't sure. "Um... offered to help us out, I guess?" She isn't sure. Then, quietly: "Would you like some coffee? Or tea?"
Thea reasons with Mavis and gets rewarded with another quick-tempered glare but then the frizzy-haired Lost starts talking about Christmas presents. Within the span of a half hour, Mavis has managed to push her girlfriend into a mental breakdown then shunned, begrudged, and ungratefulled at Thea. Mavis supports the changeling in her arms, unable to hold her towel up anymore, but Amity's body crushes it to her anyway. A hand smoothes behind the Lost's blonde head, the other runs down her back to the small and pulls her close.
"Yeah?" She tries to catch Amity's eyes, search them. "Okay.. Yeah, we'll go together." Mavis presses lips to Amity's brow, pulling her in then letting her go. The hand that had been against Amity's back catches her fingers, lifts them, and Mavis kisses the front of them with a shaky sigh. She smiles, though. A timid, worried smile, but it's a smile and relief in the mortal's honey-brown eyes as she turns back to Thea. Mavis straightens out her towel when she looks at the Summer.
"I.. didn't get you anything," she tells Thea, sounding deflated and a little ashamed. She didn't think they were ON a gift-giving level and hadn't expected one. Especially when Thea didn't turn up on Christmas. And, most likely, Mavis' present was NOT the kind of gift she wanted to give with Amity standing right there and so shaky inside of her own skin. "But, yeah, the Blackbirds are like counselors to the Lost and Lost themselves. We have a friend in town who's one of 'em. Her and her boyfriend work together as a team, usually. I figured we could trust them, at least check it out." She explains this to Thea, but while she does Mavis' eyes keep glimpsing over at Amity to read her face. She peers back at Thea, sheepish and confused. "What do you mean the gift isn't finished yet?
"..that's generous of them." Thea says, deadpan. Her meaning? 'What do they want', would be a reasonable meaning to take by the tone in the bright-inked punk's voice. And then she pauses. Looks at Mavis. "Wait. If they're willing t' help, does that mean Mavis has joined the freehold, all proper like?" Her words edge towards excitement. Her mood, briefly brought down with the discomfort of.. well.. guilt, is bouyant once more.
"Tea, love. Point me in the right direction and I'll help myself." Thea's tone is jaunty. Forcefully jaunty. As if the tattooed punk is doing her best to mask whatever //feels// she might be having finding herself decidedly unwelcome and intruding on... whatever this was. An argument about Mavis wanting everything to be her way, far as Thea could tell.
"...Where's Casper?" Thea asks as she **finally** turns from the two, swanning over towards their kitchen to help herself to some hot leaf juice.
Yeah. She's dodging the question of the gift not being finished yet, at least briefly. While the kettle begins to boil. Sssssssss.. Steam fogs up her glasses.
And then, she answers, shouting from the other room. Pleased. "Well, I'm making youse both sommat. I'm pretty good with my hands, if y'know what I mean!"
"The usual sort of thing. I think." Amity says in reply to Thea's question. "Favors." She's shaking a little still, holding tight to Mavis as if she might blow away in the mind somehow. Everything still feels sharp and on edge, but she's doing her best to not let that send her careening off again. She swallows, points.
"Kitchen's there. Kettle's on the stove, tea is in the pantry..." She looks at Mavis and breathes out. Breathes in. "I'm going to go put some clothes on," she says quietly. "And then head into the kitchen." She tries to smile but doesn't manage it very convincingly. "Okay?"
Mavis had heard that deadpan tone from Thea before and her lips press to a flattened line. "You're right, Thea, it ain't free," she tells her, agreeing to something the Lost hadn't said. "The favors they demand in return are more like community service, the Blackbirds are devoted to the well-being of the Lost in the Freehold and helping them." She shrugs when asked about Casper's whereabouts. "Dunno, not his mom."
Then Thea is off, making herself at home in their kitchen which makes Mavis' eyes roll in her pretty, little head. She gives Amity another embrace, nestling her face against the Lost's wet hair. "I love you.. It's all going to be okay," she tells her when they're alone-ish. Mavis could hear the kettle in the kitchen. "We can talk more about it later?"
A second later, Mavis is popping up in the kitchen still in her towel. She walks over to the back door then into a nook that's right in front of it, separated from the rest of the kitchen by the curtain. This is the little space crowded with an old washer and old drier. There's the sound of the drier door opening, then closing. When Mavis steps back into the kitchen where Thea's making tea, she'd clad in an over-sized bathrobe with the belt cinched tight. Mavis makes her way to the table, sits down at a chair, then puts her head on the cold, smooth wooden surface in front of her.
"I didn't want you to see any of that," she murmurs, breath fogging up the lacquer on the wood. Mavis lifts her head back up to frown miserably over at Thea. "I'm safe, too. From whatever bullshit you've imagined," she adds, waving her hand then setting it down to the table. "I haven't joined the Freehold YET, but I'm going to. And you don't have to get me anything, Christmas is over anyway." That was her way of asking Thea not to. Of telling Thea she didn't feel deserving of any sort of gift after what the changeling had just witnessed.
((OOC: Folks had to scatter so we wrapped up here!))
Thea's in the kitchen when Mavis walks through, but when she comes back.. all robed up, Thea's not there. But she hasn't left! She's flopped out onto the sofa, cup of tea beside her. But before she could really drink said cuppa, she's falling asleep.
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