By the time he gets there, Ulla will have shoved her floating
transportation device and the trunk full of whatever belongings she wants
to keep dry down into the underwater grotto, out of reach. He did
say she ought to worry about any items that he might harm. So nothing
awaits him on the steep slope of dark gray sand but her modified wheelchair
and a towel politely laid out in case he'd like something to sit on.
Ulla herself is at the edge of the water, partly submerged, but more than
enough visible to show the slick black eel's tail stretching into the
water. She looks mostly the same from the shoulders up, but a hint of
gills might show on the sides of her neck if she turns her head.
When he arrived, Collins gave a knock on her door out of etiquette but he let himself in since she was expecting him. He paused briefly on the threshold to glance around the surroundings. There wasn't much to see other than the bit of sand for him to stand on and the water in which the sea witch occupied. He noted the towel on the sand near the water's edge and headed to stand behind it.
He stared at her silently for a good moment, expression unreadable. However, it was clear by looking at him that he was not feeling well. His eyes were dark and sunken from lack of sleep and there was a tension in his body already present simply from walking into her room.
"Well then," he said with a drawl on top of his usual cadence. "Ain't this quite tha arrangement fer ya."
"I was an inmate for 2 and 1/2 years before I became a warden," Ulla tells
him dryly, "so at least there was one place on this ship where I wasn't
beached."
She didn't have the option to leave, temporarily or permanently. Just
hallways that were a chore to navigate. And she didn't even have the magic
needed to trade her tail for legs when she arrived. Not for months. Once
she did, she still didn't have the magic to lower the water in her
cabin, so she had to sleep on a float stolen from the pool on nights she
had human form.
"Hmm," he mused tonelessly. A sound that still irritated him to produce, and of course the reason he was here. He stared impassively at her a little longer.
"No reason beatin' around tha bush, is there. I know yer waitin' fer something--whether it's me or that useless twit of a warden assigned ta keep watch over me--don't really matter." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "But tha point of tha matter is I've damn well had enough. You don't know-"
He started and then stopped abruptly. It wasn't as if she would be the first he told, but it always got him strange reactions whenever he talked about it. And it wasn't as if he didn't know how it sounded to others: a little bit insane. Yet it was what it was, and he damn well didn't have a problem with it so much as it could cause problems letting others know the extent of it. His lips pressed into a thin line briefly before he continued.
"I told your Warden I'd remove it at his discretion, the day you were
paired." She didn't intend to hold onto this decision.
"You think I don't know? Music isn't just... the vehicle for my magic, and
my spells are never rote recitation. I'm a composer. You can't do
anything new with sildroher magic without original music to make it
happen. And I sang my first spell as an infant, before I learned to
speak." This is the punishment that Ulla herself would most have hated,
but then, Ulla has never murdered anyone on the Barge, not in the entire
time she was an inmate. "The point was that you murdered three people, and
this might not balance the scales, but it mattered."
Collins cocked his head to the side in interested curiosity as Ulla spoke of herself. Unfortunately the bit was broken as soon as she mentioned the final point about his actions.
"Lass, it's me job ta kill people. You act like three people mean a lot in a sea of dead--by my hand, by old age, by suicide--it don't matter how. Everyone fuckin' dies. Bein' here ain't gonna change that. This is temporary, ain't it? Ain't it!? So what fuckin' point does it matter ta be here!"
He knew he had lost the point as soon as he began his spiel but he couldn't help it. Once the words started he couldn't get them to stop. He was so fucking tired and pissed off with every little thing. And this was no little thing!
His hands were made into fists at his sides. He huffed out a portion of air and attempted to reign in his temper. Thin, he knew, always thin it was these days. Worse even more now that he was stuck here in this fucking place. The tension didn't leave him but he managed to uncurl his hands in a show of control.
"Yer a composer. That's fantastic. I love it, I really do. But do ya hear tha music all tha time? Or can ya turn it off, lass? Can ya?"
Ulla's eyes narrow. She's not answering that question without addressing
the first point.
"And you think telling me their deaths were inconsequential is a
good way to persuade me of anything? It wasn't your job to kill them. It
was your choice."
"And it will always be me choice! You people think that's goin' ta change because I'm here? How do you expect ta change tha nature of a wolf? A predator who lives fer tha hunt. I'm no dog, lass. I ain't gonna chew on toys and ever be content like some fuckin' house pet. I'm gonna thrash and make a mess of tha whole house till ya set me free, out in tha wild, where I belong."
He let out a huff of air.
"Do ya prefer me ta lie to ya? Ya keep me a ghost, and ya end tha the music curse, and I'll pretend ta be a fuckin' dog instead of a wolf if that's what ya want. But it will only last as long as I'm stuck here. And if ya keep that music curse on me," he said with a deliberate hardness, two fingers pointing at her, "I will find a way ta make everyone miserable here. One way or another."
"My warden was an actual wolf." Which explains the mosaic on the
inside of her door.
"As for what you do, it will change, and you'll live, or it won't, and
you'll die." That fact is the plain reality of being an inmate here.
"That's what this place does. It cracks you open along the fault
lines where you broke before, and then mends them more cleanly, if you're
lucky."
Ulla shakes her head. "Threats won't serve you well here." He's chosen
exactly the wrong way to ask for what he wants.
"Then send me back ta die! I'll take that choice if'n it's given. I'll take that end."
That was never a threat to him. He would rather be dead than here. But even that option was taken from him in this place. He wasn't even given that choice.
"I ain't broken. But you people can't see that. Because I don't conform ta yer picture of tha world so all ya see is somethin' wrong. And that's fine but I ain't broken because I was never like any of you ta begin with."
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no subject
"Now is fine."
By the time he gets there, Ulla will have shoved her floating transportation device and the trunk full of whatever belongings she wants to keep dry down into the underwater grotto, out of reach. He did say she ought to worry about any items that he might harm. So nothing awaits him on the steep slope of dark gray sand but her modified wheelchair and a towel politely laid out in case he'd like something to sit on.
Ulla herself is at the edge of the water, partly submerged, but more than enough visible to show the slick black eel's tail stretching into the water. She looks mostly the same from the shoulders up, but a hint of gills might show on the sides of her neck if she turns her head.
no subject
He stared at her silently for a good moment, expression unreadable. However, it was clear by looking at him that he was not feeling well. His eyes were dark and sunken from lack of sleep and there was a tension in his body already present simply from walking into her room.
"Well then," he said with a drawl on top of his usual cadence. "Ain't this quite tha arrangement fer ya."
no subject
"I was an inmate for 2 and 1/2 years before I became a warden," Ulla tells him dryly, "so at least there was one place on this ship where I wasn't beached."
She didn't have the option to leave, temporarily or permanently. Just hallways that were a chore to navigate. And she didn't even have the magic needed to trade her tail for legs when she arrived. Not for months. Once she did, she still didn't have the magic to lower the water in her cabin, so she had to sleep on a float stolen from the pool on nights she had human form.
no subject
"No reason beatin' around tha bush, is there. I know yer waitin' fer something--whether it's me or that useless twit of a warden assigned ta keep watch over me--don't really matter." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "But tha point of tha matter is I've damn well had enough. You don't know-"
He started and then stopped abruptly. It wasn't as if she would be the first he told, but it always got him strange reactions whenever he talked about it. And it wasn't as if he didn't know how it sounded to others: a little bit insane. Yet it was what it was, and he damn well didn't have a problem with it so much as it could cause problems letting others know the extent of it. His lips pressed into a thin line briefly before he continued.
"-how impossible it is fer me ta avoid music."
no subject
"I told your Warden I'd remove it at his discretion, the day you were paired." She didn't intend to hold onto this decision.
"You think I don't know? Music isn't just... the vehicle for my magic, and my spells are never rote recitation. I'm a composer. You can't do anything new with sildroher magic without original music to make it happen. And I sang my first spell as an infant, before I learned to speak." This is the punishment that Ulla herself would most have hated, but then, Ulla has never murdered anyone on the Barge, not in the entire time she was an inmate. "The point was that you murdered three people, and this might not balance the scales, but it mattered."
no subject
"Lass, it's me job ta kill people. You act like three people mean a lot in a sea of dead--by my hand, by old age, by suicide--it don't matter how. Everyone fuckin' dies. Bein' here ain't gonna change that. This is temporary, ain't it? Ain't it!? So what fuckin' point does it matter ta be here!"
He knew he had lost the point as soon as he began his spiel but he couldn't help it. Once the words started he couldn't get them to stop. He was so fucking tired and pissed off with every little thing. And this was no little thing!
His hands were made into fists at his sides. He huffed out a portion of air and attempted to reign in his temper. Thin, he knew, always thin it was these days. Worse even more now that he was stuck here in this fucking place. The tension didn't leave him but he managed to uncurl his hands in a show of control.
"Yer a composer. That's fantastic. I love it, I really do. But do ya hear tha music all tha time? Or can ya turn it off, lass? Can ya?"
no subject
Ulla's eyes narrow. She's not answering that question without addressing the first point.
"And you think telling me their deaths were inconsequential is a good way to persuade me of anything? It wasn't your job to kill them. It was your choice."
no subject
He let out a huff of air.
"Do ya prefer me ta lie to ya? Ya keep me a ghost, and ya end tha the music curse, and I'll pretend ta be a fuckin' dog instead of a wolf if that's what ya want. But it will only last as long as I'm stuck here. And if ya keep that music curse on me," he said with a deliberate hardness, two fingers pointing at her, "I will find a way ta make everyone miserable here. One way or another."
no subject
"My warden was an actual wolf." Which explains the mosaic on the inside of her door.
"As for what you do, it will change, and you'll live, or it won't, and you'll die." That fact is the plain reality of being an inmate here. "That's what this place does. It cracks you open along the fault lines where you broke before, and then mends them more cleanly, if you're lucky."
Ulla shakes her head. "Threats won't serve you well here." He's chosen exactly the wrong way to ask for what he wants.
no subject
That was never a threat to him. He would rather be dead than here. But even that option was taken from him in this place. He wasn't even given that choice.
"I ain't broken. But you people can't see that. Because I don't conform ta yer picture of tha world so all ya see is somethin' wrong. And that's fine but I ain't broken because I was never like any of you ta begin with."