Drifting Along Warm Seas [Catherine, Alvah]

Her nose scrunched a bit with him pulling the journal away so abruptly to dramatically present it's contents, having let go of his horn amidst it in a bit of surprise. He took that strong of a genuine interest in her? Her 'story'? With that small realization, her expression darkened, a dreary smile playing upon her lips as a low, creaking laugh rocked her shoulders and brought her legs slowly folding toward the flooring, covering her face with one hand as she sunk.

"God, you don't get it... Not that I expected you to, you're too different," Was spoken on a sigh as her hand dragged down her face, "They aren't pretty. They aren't meant for show, or fun. They ruined me."

A hand lightly brushed along the leathery textured skin of her forearm, hand tightly clenched, "I'm ruined. I can't possibly be 'happy' or 'normal' again. All i've got in my future is blood and death... And, i've come to accept that."'

"Catherine. I'm an Arrancar," He corrected. "I come from Hell. I understand your emotions, but I simply cannot relate."

Maybe it'll hit her eventually; the fact that Alvah, for all intent and purposes, could not ever fathom the pain she feels everyday. He's a creature molding by the deepest darkest sins of humanity. In fact, beyond that, he's a creature created by the demented machinations of monsters that are worse than what's under a child's bed. If Catherine was expecting someone to look at her and think her an ugly monster, she's barking up the wrong tree.

"However, again, must I remind you of the stars. They are as subjective as you and I. What you find ugly, someone will find beautiful. What you find ruined, someone will find perfect."

He put his book down, rising from his seat. Soon, he's crouching, taking her, whether she wants him to or not, into his arms. Seeing her distress, he found it difficult to assume she'd fight back. All he'd do next was put her in his chair.

Even in her current state she realized the foolishness of her comment about his difference with his reminding of what he was, where he was from. And from there, she realized her mistake in assumption - she was thinking of him in the way she would another human, rather than what he was. Of course scars like these, a visceral expression such as the one she wore that day, would be admirable to something like him.

A thought that bothered her initially in her younger years, grew into some form of acknowledgement with this - she was really seeing more of a sense of belonging with the completely inhuman, even if he and his kind held the shape of one.

Spiking anxiety held her when he suddenly stood, but her legs felt no need to move. The only form of resistance when she was held was a brief tensing, a movement of hand and foot to beat against her carrier, only to be stopped by her own will. What would normally reduce her to a flailing animal had her reasonably calm as she was placed in his seat, looking up at him,

"..I'm not a child," She'd mutter, "I could have sat on my own..."

"You could have, but I felt it best to help. Chivalry exists in this world still."

He replaced her though, leaning against a railing to stare out at the dark expanse before him. His expression, neutral and calm, didn't give away his thoughts. He rarely gave away his thoughts with facial expression alone. Some may think is manic how one could hide themselves so cleanly, but he simply found it a part of life. Humans wear masks all the time, and as he step closer to them, he comes to realize that an Arrancar adopts the very thing they left behind when they became a monster.

"If there is anything you wish to speak of, do so, Catherine. I feel we've found an understanding here, don't you?"

"An' understanding, huh?" Leaned back in the seat, head tilted to the sky, she'd question lazily, "..Guess so."

Her arm swayed freely, hardly blinking as she was momentarily lost in thought. She wanted more alcohol, but she didn't feel like getting up. Just wanted to stare at the stars. Different thoughts went through her mind, while at a manageable speed it was far too many for her to articulate in one go, but she felt like saying one strand of them, he'd earned the right,

"Hey.. You ever..." It didn't quite sound like she knew where she was going with her thought, but her lips refused to part, "... You ever hate someone, but still love em a bunch? But you feel gross loving them, so it just makes you hate em more, but that just also makes you want to love em even more... Like, that's gotta be some gross fetish thing, right? That's not normal.. That's something someone with a broken head thinks.. Right?"

He had returned to minding his own business as the night quieted down. Despite the interruption, Alvah had kept all the books before him marked, so he could return to them as he needed. His antics had ceased until his attention was pulled by his associate yet again. Now, she's asking him questions that invoked the scholar inside him. He could not answer her immediately, and maybe she'd find his silence infuriating. Someone who seemed to always have something to say, did not have something to say. Well, that's just how it is sometimes, but he found her question resonating with something inside him.

It's not easy to explain, but he couldn't help but find her question easy and impossible to answer.

"What is hatred and love, I wonder? Two side of the same coin, no? Neither can exist without the other."

A pause as he took more time to collect himself, he looked out at the sea and sighed. His eyes had lost some gleam, and his being, its splendor. He appeared far too normal for what he is at that time.

"I think that it is perfectly fine to love and hate something at the same time. I can only guess the mind attempts to chase that anger away because it understands it is unhealthy. It creates falsifications of love in order to not feel pain, but lies can only do so much. You eventually become trapped in a cycle of love and hate where you want the hatred to be a lie and not the truth, but reality is cruel. It often is. That is why I suggest you find something that lessens the weight of it Catherine. We only become stuck in an endless loop if we allow ourselves to be."

Eyes half closed softly rose to meet the dark figure expectant of an answer, the glimmer of white hair beneath the moonlight something even she had silent admiration of. But for once, he took his time supplying an answer, a man who's mouth was comparable to a broken faucet had actually been rendered answerless, at least for a time - even in her current state, alcohol in her blood, she noticed this, but felt no irritation. Rather, she was curious of what took so much thought from that frivolous, nonsensical thought she had just regurgitated.

And then, he answered, but paused. He seemed... Different, at least for this lapse of time. Was it difficult for him to speak of? Did he have the same struggle? Questions bubbled in her busy, slowed mind in the space it took him to expand, and once he had parted lips yet again to speak was when they quieted down.

"A loop... So that's what you'd call it..." She'd ponder the thought, genuinely, but her gaze calmly returned to the stars, "I guess you could call this a loop. I feel too far gone to break it. I've been doing this for... So long... But.. I can say..."

Her tone sounded listless, but she still went on, "..You're fucking annoying... But I don't hate you... I don't know what you are to me. I'm... I think i'm too broken to really know. My body... My mind... I can never be the same. I'd die, otherwise. Or, I feel like I would."

For the moment, he wished her no ill. He is not a stranger to betrayal. Backstabbing is natural for his kind. They live to survive and survive to live. If that meant betraying a person they had befriended, then so be it. However, he is not surrounded by monsters who want nothing more than the power underneath his shell. He is next to a young woman who has found herself lost and afraid of what's next.

"There are changes that can never be reverted, like a body being scarred or a mask being removed. We are what time makes us, but as time moves, it is our decisions that dictate what it leaves us."

He feels on the verge of a breakthrough, but barriers beyond his comprehension kept his thoughts from ever leaving the confines of reality. In the end, he is a 3D creature held down by a 4D concept. The walls that is his mind keep him from ever realizing what it is he was or should be, but if he were to let that reality consume him, he'd be nothing more than a rotting corpse.

"Monster, human, animal... You let words dictate what or who you are and when and how you act. In the end, all that matters is that you make the most of what you are able. You live the best you can and disallow any notion that you are any less than what the reality can allow."

Eyelids heavy, she listened to what he had to say. The gentle blow of wind, the warmth of a spring sea, the moon's glow on her face... It felt like her attention wandered everywhere outside of her, the edges of her vision darkening.

No, wait, wait... She didn't want to fall asleep. She hated sleeping, she hated it, hated it - anxiety pierced her lungs, this was practically a ritual at this point. Even if she planned for it, yearned for it, she still hated it - she wished she'd never have to sleep again, if she were face to face with a God or Soul King or whatever had it's hands on the reigns, that'd be her one wish, that was the one thing she couldn't get rid of through trial and error, not for long at least. Everything else... She just needed time, and able hands.

...

Previously near inaudible breathing would have become slow and obvious. An occasional hitch in breath would be the only interruption, a simple turn around would make the situation plenty obvious - she had fallen asleep where she sat, her face one of resting fright.

When did she fall asleep? Was it during his speech? After? Before? Nevertheless, he took notice of her silence quickly, watching her stubborn body lie still, only her chest any sign that life still kept her.

He did not waste time rising from his seat and moving to her. Gentle, he picked her up and carried her to her room, ignoring everything she had told him about staying out. He respected her enough to abide by her rules, but his nature demanded he move her from her position and someplace better suited. She should be glad to be on his good side though, for if he had found it worth his efforts, her sacred chambers would have been gorged of all interesting information.

However, he returned to his seat on the boat and continued transcribing the material she has given him. The night is long, and the starts are bright. He has enough company to keep his mind from wandering into the unknown. Grounded, he felt a moment's peace.