Island Adventure: Abe & Sasha
Sasha let the waves lap around her calves while she gazed out due west into the horizon. She wanted to go to Haiti.
That wasn't entirely correct. The talisman she wore wanted her to go to Haiti. Sasha wanted to get drunk enough to forget Repose and all the people within existed. Hence the rather obnoxious rum concoction that filled the hollowed out pineapple she cradled in her hands. There was probably some juice splashed in for mixer, but the crazy straw, three paper umbrellas, and jarful of maraschino cherries had been a necessity. The unnatural pull towards Haiti had been constant ever since she had died, but it was far stronger here than back in Repose (Always Repose. Never home). The rum dulled the control the talisman had over her, sating her bloodthirsty brodude-loa-husband almost as well as sacrificing a chicken.
Since it may need to be said: Sasha had never sacrificed a chicken.
Her father was in Haiti. She didn't know how she knew, but she knew. Her father and the rest of her blood. Not that they were family. Family. She didn't have any family, did she? They'd torn her apart and tossed her aside, and they didn't even care. Every time they mentioned family, she wasn't included in that equation. Every time she tried to discuss serious matters, they blew her off. She asked for help and they made her feel worthless. Sasha had no idea what she was even allowed to say to them anymore. The eternal debate was if it was the talisman that made her feel that enraging misery towards anyone she had cared about, or if it was really her. After all, it was a valuable tactic to isolate an opponent and force them into surrender, and by now she was successfully isolated.
She hated being alone, no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise.
Her name called out over the sound of waves broke the woman clad in red and black bikini out of her musings. Pigtails sat high on either side of her head, bouncy curls that seemed to dance on their own accord. Ugh, Abe needed to stop being cute. Yeah, that's right, Abe was cute. Whatever. He was also sweet and funny and smart and deserved so much better than her friendship. The gills really didn't bother her. Maybe they should, but they didn't. Sasha pranced out of the water and up to where Abe was by one of the boulders, whatever melancholy she may have felt masterfully masked even without thick layers of facepaint. Of course, Abe probably knew better. Not only was he psychic, but she was often far too honest with him. She flopped against the rock and started to jab her straw repeatedly into her drink while glancing over the tourists. "You know, I don't even think they got into the shallow end. That one guy doesn't even know he's buoyant."
Her eyes followed his glance, and she gazed at the crystal a moment too long before beaming that killer smile of hers up at him. Exploring was good. "That cave where I found the rattle is 'round the bend. We can start there," It wasn't particularly deep beyond the boulders, and she didn't know if there was anything worth finding left, but if anyone could find something, it would be him. "Here," she offered the stabbed cherry on the end of her straw to feed to him. No, it wasn't victory-flavored raw lobster, but it was all she could give to him right now.