Washed Ashore [Alek | Open]

He turned a little as she approached. He would stare blearily before grinning.

"You're right. Not all. Half. Drink."

He would say the last word as he removed one of the cans and handed it out to her. He'd then grab one of his own and crack it open, taking a swig before gesturing with it still in his hand, spilling some but indicating the way in which he was heading. Up toward the apartments, where his comfortable as hell chair sat.

"I live like, over there. We could go back and watch some tv, bang maybe. Or just eat some grub and drink til we can't think. Whatever your poison happens to be."

He grinned, wondering if she was the sort given to adventure, or if she were more...boring, as the others were.

Drink..? Beer wasn't for her. Not really. But, she knew that this was a possibility when she picked the case up. So, with a sigh, she took the can and - with a little bit of finangling - popped the top. Maybe, considering the attack and resurgence of memories and emotions, even she could use to relax a little.

Bang? An eyebrow raised as she took a discrete sip of the fizzy liquid, so different in taste than something like champagne.

"...mm, well, drinks, food, and television sound just fine." She glanced down at the can, her brows quirking into a dubious expression. She didn't drink, often...she couldn't actually remember being drunk, either. So she didn't want to move too far down the trail, and food would wind up helping with that. She still wanted to clean the rest of the beach, and didn't want to incapacitate herself. Not to mention, she didn't know him and couldn't really trust him by putting herself in such a vulnerable position. "My name is Kyrie, by the way."

But, she could get to know him.

He took a long swig before answering.

"Alekaf. And whatever you decide, we'll have fun, you and me."

He put his arm around her shoulder, laughing and walking off toward his appartment. Once there, he would unlock and open the door, letting them both inside. Though not classy, it was fairly clean and the couch was hella comfy. He would strut into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of vodka and heading back out with two glasses. He poured them and handed one to her with a grin.

"Don't worry- the whole beer and alcohol equals vomiting thing is a myth."

He'd clink his glass to hers and down his drink, which went through him like water.

The arm around her shoulders caused her muscles to shift and tense up, but she didn't shrug him off, despite that. It was simply a matter of grinning and bearing it, at this point. He was after another lady, and she wasn't the slightest bit interested in him.

"Indeed."

It was still a relief when he opened the door after their walk, with her intermittently sipping at the beer in her hands. Kyrie found she didn't enjoy the taste any more than she ever had, but, it was still bearable.

She took what seemed to be a cursory glance around, but she was noting the layout of the place, along with any potential obstacles she might face if they had to get out. Or if she had to.

Her eyes turned back as he grabbed vodka and glasses. Oh, delightful. She absolutely wanted to drink straight vodka. Absolutely.

She cracked a wry smile and set the mostly-empty can to the side as she accepted the glass in her free hand. Tipping it, she let the glass tap against his before taking a sip; she really wouldn't be drinking quickly, but, she rarely did.

"You have a nice place."

Simple but fairly clean. It didn't offend her senses, or sense of practicality.

Alek laughed.

"Eh, it's alright. Not super fashion sensy but not a shithole. It's sorta bearable for me, and the ladies enjoy it enough to stop by."

He would pour himself his third shot, seemingly unaffected so far by the drinks he was pounding back, though obviously buzzed. That was easy to get to- drunk was where things hung up, and took a while.

"So tell me who you are."

"Sort of bearable? What would be to your specifications, then?"

The blonde quirked her head to the side with a glance over to the man she whose company she was sharing. She adjusted her grip on the glass, letting the heel of it rest lightly in the crook of her fingers and palm so that her fingers could coil upwards. She tilted it, blue eyes drawn to the way the clear liquid lapped at the sides of the glass as she used her wrist as a ball joint to swirl the alcohol. She deliberated over how much to say, mostly because she could easily go in-depth, but partly because he was well into his drink, as well.

"...I am a daughter of Hades. I have four siblings borne from my mother, yet all with different God-fathers—aside from my elder twin siblings. The man I call father was infertile, but he raised us, and loves us as his own." Kyrie took another short sip, her fingers shifting to compensate and hold the glass in a normal grip, now that she was no longer watching the motion. Instead, her eyes were focused on Alek, taking in his reaction. "I was among other demis before the initial Titan attack five years ago, as a member of the Garrison, now I reside on the isle as a farmer. I enjoy the peace and simplicity, but...the other night seemed to prove that keeping my combat skills sharp has not been for naught. What of yourself?"

That was enough; more than enough, she figured. Concise yet giving him a bit of a story. And, she figured any questions that might arise would be easy to deal with.

He chuckled.

"You've heard most of my story, svetlyak.. What I said on the beach is all there is of worth to it."

He took another drink, before offering up the bottle for a refill of her drink, almost as though he didn't notice it was still mostly full. He was a professional drinker. It helped to drown out the screams and make him forget. Make him forget....everything. Everything he was and did. Still, if she pressed and wanted to know more, he wouldn't hesitate to tell her. He didn't regret what he did. He only regret he didn't drag out his punishments more.

"Hades...hm. He's a dark one, as are most of his kids. No wonder you were so much faster than me then. I never really stood a chance."

He rethought his ability to crush her. If she was Hades' offspring...she would be beyond him, most likely.

The blonde raised one eyebrow. All there was to it? Not even close.

She gave a tiny sigh at the offer to fill her glass and shook her head, lightly laying the fingers of her free hand across the top to signify she was fine for the moment.

"...well, it is not a point I go around broadcasting... That aside, previous combat training helps. I would think if you had not been drinking already, or in a mood, you likely would fare better. Perhaps sometime we will spar, you and I."

She considered what she would ask. How far she would push. She wasn't interested in what he put the others through, but something far more painful, far more personal.

"Tell me about your sister..? What she is like, as you remember her."

He took a swig from the bottle directly, sitting on the couch and staring out the window for a moment, half shrugging. He didn't say anything for several moments, letting them tick by in the uncomfortable silence. If she held out, he would sigh. She was stubborn- he liked that in a woman.

"Dani. She was....everything to me. I held he when she was born and whispered that i would look after her forever...she gave me such a smile. I used to talk to her in mommas....Brendas belly. Kicked hard when i did that. I left her when she was a little older to go to an all boys school. We used to write each other, but the last one i got, she told me how our maid found out."

He took another drink.

"She was whooped good. I came back a time later, when she was nine. Quiet and standoffish, she had bruises and fear. I fired Ursula- sorry, Uldna- and spent the next three and a half years loving Dani. She had friends, and we played games. Within a week she was laughing, and within a month she danced. Twirled in her dresses. I showed her how to ride a horse, you know. She was courageous and passionate about her love of them. Piano, guitar- we played them together. I took on her homeschooling for myself, and though she griped about it, she learned and loved classes. Hated pease- so i made them for her on nights she refused to finish homework. We sat at the table for hours once before she broke and ate them cold. Stubborn little girl."

He took another drink, turning his eyes toward her.

"We had a picnic once a month. I set up a projector on the side of our house after she finished a year of schooling, assuming her grades where high enough, and she would invite all her friends over to watch any movie of her choice. Candy and popcorn and....anyway."

More drinks.

"I remember her for her love. And her laughter. And her twirling dance. and once those things bring clear away all feelings in my heart, i burn it with hate, and remember that they fucked her, and slit her throat, and that she died screaming for me, and i wasn't there to answer. In the end, I remember her last thought was that I would save her, i had promised, and before death she knew I lied."

He would set the bottle down finish the drink, leaning back, eyes half closed and coooold.

"Isn't this conversation so much fun?"

Press where it hurts. Whether or not he'd come to terms with it wasn't for her to say. She didn't think so, though. Not by his words. He loved her, but turned to burning away the good and replacing it with hate. For them.

For himself.

She eyed him, twirled the vodka, and took another sip. Her quiet blue eyes connected with his cold ones. Fun? No. She shook her head. Interesting? A better description, but not accurate.

Kyrie was playing with fire - yet didn't know it was also literally - but...it had to be said. Maybe nobody else bothered. Maybe he hadn't even managed to have the idea for himself. Either way, any way, this would help...in the long run; it would not bring about some immediate, miraculous healing. He probably wouldn't remember it after waking, let alone when - or if - he healed.

But right now, it might piss him off.

Clearly, she'd had too much to drink. Normally, she likely would have held off.

"You do her, and the memory of her, a great disservice with the last words of her you spoke."

It was simply stated, no heat. Just the inflection of something that was a matter-of-fact, coming from an objective, outside source. The source, however, was all-too-aware that she, herself, would be in a very similar state to him, if their circumstances were reversed. Her head quirked to the side with an owlish blink.

He stared back, unchanging. Was she trying to anger him? Probably not. Did it piss him off? Maybe a little. But she wasn't lying- she was just telling him what he already knew.

"You believe our memories of someone are meant to service others? My memories are mine as they exist. I know she wouldn't want me to think of her as such. She wouldn't want me to remember her in that way. But she's dead. She can't control how i think or feel about anything anymore. My memories are my memories, regardless of who they do or do not do justice or honor to. Should I honor her memory? Sure. Should I try to find the love in my heart i felt when she was alive and try to feel those feelings forever, now that those who did it are all dead? Probably. But I don't and I won't."

He would set down the glass now.

"Things are not black and white in the heart. There is every shade of gray. I am comfortable with how I feel and remember her, because i don't try to fool myself into believing a false truth of the past simply for the ideal of the present. I accept that about me. You should too."

She listened without interruption, the slightly more than a little coil of tension in her core relaxing by degrees as he began to speak, not act. She didn't know him after all, and there were degrees of risk when dealing with people she had no idea of who they really were, aside from a snippet or two.

"...you have half." She acknowledged, not elaborating further unless he decided to ask and to know. He had the part she wasn't actually speaking of, but that in itself just gave her another clue as to what kind of man she was speaking with.

She took another sip, as she had throughout each time he had spoken.

Ball was in his court, and she was waiting to receive.

He chuckled a little.

"Well hell, I'll take half over nothing any day."

He had no idea what she was talking about, but would lean back a little and look up at his ceiling.

"Why does it matter anyway? What's done is done."

She managed a ghost of a smile.

"It simply does."

It was as simple or as complicated as one wanted to make it, but it did matter, and parts of it always would. He would see, at some point, that the other half was that he was putting words in his dead sister's mouth. Yes, he broke his promise (without intention), but...what he said on what she must have thought and believed at the moment of her death?

Well, it wasn't her place. But who was to really say?

Alek would tsk.

"Have it your way then."

He'd lean forward sluggishly, taking the neck of the bottle and sitting back, drinking more before pointing at her drink. She had barely downed any of it at all! How would she expect to get drunk when she only had a few sips an hour.

"You finish that drink before we continue talking. C'mon down it like you mean it. I'm not going to rape you- I find that detestable, for obvious reasons."