crushed_pearls

"Love, you can go willingly or I can drag you there." Erin puts her hands on Crabb's shoulders. "Now is not the time for your unfounded anxiety about talking to people, and we don't have time to waste. You have ten seconds."

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"Erin I talked to Friday and she bleedin' killed herself!" It isn't even about the talking to people, with Smith, it's just that she feels stupid which is an entirely separate issue in itself, but if it was. "That couldn't'a gone much worse if I'd tried!"

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"Mkay here we go then."

Erin pulls Crabb into a hug -

And turns into a collar with a long enough attached leash to equal her body mass. The collar clasps around Crabb's neck; the leash starts in on something that isn't not shibari.

Fun fact: Erin has all her strength in this form.

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Crabb practically squeaks, even now she has no way to predict when Erin's going to pull this kind of trick, "ERIN! What in God's name—"

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"I'm a girl of my word and you're being ridiculous. Y'all keep telling me not to shoulder the world like Atlas, well, you don't get to either. Besides, you're all dressed and everything. Now, forwaaaaard -"

The lead of the leash opens the cabin door.

"- March!"

Crabb can walk or be walked but they're Going To Sand Dollars.

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"I'm not bein' ridiculous or tryna hold the whole Damn world I just had a woman throw herself off the ship in front of me, arrite—!"

She's going to retain what little dignity she can by walking herself, because she does know how this will go if she doesn't. God help her. She's torn between an embarrassed and frustrated fluster.

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"And now you're not getting time to go into a panic spiral about it, we are Taking Direct Action. And you -" Deep breath; the leash snuggles in tighter. "- are very interesting like this, I gotta turn into a rope later in a more private setting."

(Hey Peters quick question is this a reasonable action?)

AHAHAHAHA, HA, HAHAHAHA no, absolutely not, this is completely insane.

(Why are we doing it then?)

Because our other option is a mental breakdown complete with screaming and crying in existential despair.

(...Point well-made, carry on.)

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"Jeezus Christ, please don't go sayin' stuff like that in front of Smith, walkin' around like this is bad enough— I ain't gonna run away at the last second, y'know?"

She is also this close to cracking. It's one thing to abstractly know you messed up and another to have it demonstrated. She's genuinely terrified she did something that's going to screw everyone to Hell and back.

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"I'm not that committed to unlocking the deep well of power inside you love. This is about as much as I'll ever embarrass you in public unless you ask me to. But you're still getting the hug until we get there, so let's jog up those stairs and catch him before teatime is over."

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Crabb would usually object to the stairs but she just does not have it in her to argue right now, so she goes up the stairs anyway, as the mental war keeps raging inside her head over all of this.

She just wanted to do something useful and now...

She's unusually quiet for the last little stretch to Sand Dollars.

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Number 6 was having a good afternoon tea.

Was.

The moment he sees Crabb marching his way wearing that he knows his afternoon is about to become... complicated.

He sets his cup down resolutely and stands once she's near enough, his eyes widening to white around the edges as he really takes in the contours of that... leash (???) wrapped around her.

"Miss Honoria Crabb what in the blue blazes are you wearing?" That's how you really know you're in trouble.

And he doesn't know the half of it yet.

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"Me," the leash says in Erin's voice. Her Mantle flares into a haze...

...And then there's a THUMP! when Erin falls on the floor back-first. The clearing smoke reveals an expression of 'really?' on her face.

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Christ it's like she's back home—or, worse, being back home as a little kid again with her mom breaking out the full name ("Honoria Christine Crabb you're going to ruin that skirt—")—and Crabb is immediately both deeply embarrassed and cowed by the response. At least Erin immediately shifts back to her human shape, but it doesn't actually do much to take the mortified flush out of her face or make her look less like she's ready to implode.

"That bit was her fault," she points at Erin, voice a bit of a squeak.

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The leash speaks.

The leash is... Erin.

Crabb was wearing Erin...as a leash.

Edited Date: 2023-03-04 03:17 pm (UTC)

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"Do I want to know what this is about?"

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"Nope, but you're about to learn." Erin holds up a hand in wordless request for Crabb to help her stand. "We require your powers of adulthood."

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The mortification does not fade. The mortification continues to only get worse. But she takes Erin's hand and pulls her up, before basically collapsing into one of the cafe seats.

"...how much has filtered back to you from Ava about me poking around and my phone dyin'?"

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The bad feeling in the pit of his belly grows stronger by the moment. Now that Crabb has sat down, he does the same, lowering himself warily into his chair while his mind surges through all the worst possibilities.

"I know everything there is to tell. Including that you, apparently, tasted the marks on the inside of the elevator shaft."

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"YOU LICKED THE SPOOKY CAVE PAINTINGS? Nevermind, no, nevermind, carry on, I'll be over here."

Erin goes to the counter and orders boba tea with all the air of a noir detective demanding his bourbon.

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"I licked the residue that came off when I touched them I didn't actually lick the bleedin' wall! Arrite! God's teeth I shoulda just kept moping and not broken into the damn shaft in the first place—"

She drops her head into her hands and groans loudly, dying ever more on the inside. At least she doesn't have to explain it over...

"Look, point is I finally went to Friday to try and get my phone fixed. I didn't tell her exactly what I did, but she sure figured out what it had to do with and then she threw herself off the Goddamned boat about it."

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"She WHAT?!" He pushes out from the table and to his feet in one sharp movement.

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"Threw herself off the ship!" Erin echoes, taking her boba and giving it a steadying sip. "So we came to you, the most sensible fucking adult on this fuckboat, for advice."

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Crabb winces and sinks in her chair, gesturing wildly. "She got all weird and freaked out, then she just left the bleedin' desk and climbed over the railing to throw herself in the damn sea. I didn't even have time to bleedin' react!"

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They came to him.

Slowly, he sinks back into his seat. He doesn't know if he should be flattered or alarmed that he's attained such a reputation. He's starting to understand how Skulduggery must feel. But, unlike skulduggery, he doesn't know the first thing about magic and all of this is clearly to do with the magic that keeps this ship afloat. And now the one... person--or construct?--that seems to have any idea what it all means has just flung herself from the rail and abandoned them to their fates for heaven only knows how long. If things start falling apart the same way they did in October... those murder-happy teens are going to have a field day.

"Does anyone else know about this?"

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