[ There's a lot rumbling around in his head at that moment, most of which he can't even begin to tell Kyna: Nathan might be dead, might not have anywhere to get sucked back into besides purgatory, if that's really a thing, this might be his chance to start over, this might be my last chance to hang around with him, and neither of us is gonna remember any of it when it ends? The injustice of that is a blade against his jugular.
When he speaks again, it's after draining his glass. Whoops. ]
You remember anything about getting taken back? Before you disappeared--anything that happened stick out?
[ He's got the same kind of mealy-mouthed answer she does waiting in the wings, with an underpinning of if one of us disappears, Nathan or me, is that the end?
Of course, you can't just say that. Sam shrugs, like this isn't something he's been thinking about, just asked for the hell of it. ]
[ And there's some bitterness to it. If Nathan really is dead, what's a few more weeks or months with him if he heads back to Libertalia with a head full of nothing? ]
[ Nah, he wants to say. He's not bothered. He's fine.
But he's not, and maybe it's the fact that he's had a beer or two, or maybe it's just Kyna there next to him. It takes a minute, silent and thoughtful and maybe staring a little too hard at the surface of the bar. ]
If I was looking to forget everything about New Amsterdam, I wouldn't be out with you. You think I wanna go back, lose all this?
[ Not hostile, the question, but pretty rhetorical. There are plenty of ways to completely forget what's going on, and none of them involve hanging out with a pretty girl while she tells him what she feels like telling him about home and here.
(And making it about her, he figures, is probably the best distraction from the reality of the situation: I don't want to lose this time with Nathan.) ]
[Something about it doesn't ring quite true, though she can't put her finger on it. It doesn't feel like he's lying, but it feels strange that he'd be referring to her specifically. Is he just being nice?
Either way, she scoots her stool a little closer and rests her head on his shoulder.]
[ Cardinal rule of hanging out with pretty girls, even if you're unlikely to sleep with them: make the conversation about them where you can. Old habits, et cetera.
(Besides, it not like he wants to lose memories of this, either.) ]
Eh. [ He glances down at her for a second, surprised, then puts an arm around her shoulders. ] You get torn out of one place, put in another, and it turns out the clock's ticking down 'til you're an amnesiac? Couldn't blame you if you were upset.
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[ Sam gives a low whistle. That's...unsettling, if he's honest.
But who likes honesty? ]
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[She draws it out, low and frustrated. She hates that idea, but she can't disagree.]
That's how it feels. Isn't that fucked?
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[ There's a lot rumbling around in his head at that moment, most of which he can't even begin to tell Kyna: Nathan might be dead, might not have anywhere to get sucked back into besides purgatory, if that's really a thing, this might be his chance to start over, this might be my last chance to hang around with him, and neither of us is gonna remember any of it when it ends? The injustice of that is a blade against his jugular.
When he speaks again, it's after draining his glass. Whoops. ]
You remember anything about getting taken back? Before you disappeared--anything that happened stick out?
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[ He signals the bartender for another beer, trying to keep the frown out of his brow until the girl's turned away toward the tap. ]
If you were gonna pick, where'd you wanna be?
I SURE DID LOSE THIS SOMEHOW
I'm... I mean. I don't know. I don't want to be here forever, but...
IT'S COOL I FORGOT ABOUT IT UNTIL THIS MOMENT
...Yeah. I got you.
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What about you?
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Of course, you can't just say that. Sam shrugs, like this isn't something he's been thinking about, just asked for the hell of it. ]
About the same as you, sounds like.
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[Even saying that feels like some kind of betrayal, though.]
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[ Has he ever been on a vacation? Don't worry about it. ]
And if we're going back where we came from--hell, why not.
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[That's what she keeps getting stuck on.]
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[ And there's some bitterness to it. If Nathan really is dead, what's a few more weeks or months with him if he heads back to Libertalia with a head full of nothing? ]
Stuck here for now, anyway.
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[She can hear that bitterness.]
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But he's not, and maybe it's the fact that he's had a beer or two, or maybe it's just Kyna there next to him. It takes a minute, silent and thoughtful and maybe staring a little too hard at the surface of the bar. ]
If I was looking to forget everything about New Amsterdam, I wouldn't be out with you. You think I wanna go back, lose all this?
[ Not hostile, the question, but pretty rhetorical. There are plenty of ways to completely forget what's going on, and none of them involve hanging out with a pretty girl while she tells him what she feels like telling him about home and here.
(And making it about her, he figures, is probably the best distraction from the reality of the situation: I don't want to lose this time with Nathan.) ]
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Either way, she scoots her stool a little closer and rests her head on his shoulder.]
Maybe it's stupid to be upset about.
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Old habits, et cetera.
(Besides, it not like he wants to lose memories of this, either.) ]
Eh. [ He glances down at her for a second, surprised, then puts an arm around her shoulders. ] You get torn out of one place, put in another, and it turns out the clock's ticking down 'til you're an amnesiac? Couldn't blame you if you were upset.
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Yeah, I guess so. It's just weird, you know? Home was shitty too and now this place is shitty in a different way.
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[ But hey, she laughed. That's something. So's the weight of her cheek against his shoulder. ]
Right now's not so bad, though.