Seamus shuffled around the dim streets, his head bowed low. He had his hands stuffed into his sweater to keep them warm, his hood pulled up to hide his hair. He would wait a few more minutes before he went back up to check on Tasha... after all, who knew what he had done to her?
'It couldn't of been that bad...' he reasoned with himself. 'She didn't seem that upset... rather she's upset I'm making her go...' he sighed lightly. 'Maybe I should jus-'
His train of throught was interrupted as someone grabbed at his ankles, tripping him. In mere moments someone's tired and rotting body was ontop of his, trying to snatch anything of intrest. Grimy fingers tore at his data port in vain, only to be broken seconds later. Shaken, Seamus fought off the unseen onslought and crawled back to the street. He watched breathlessly as a lump of a human body whimpered pathetically to itself and laid down on the cracked pavement, too weak to seek the shelter of the shadows.
"Another logical reason she has to go," he mused aloud as he stood up, forcing his body to calm itself as he started to head back to his ghetto. "With her gone I'll only have to worry about myself again. Worrying about other people leads to unnessisary trouble..."
'Speaking to yourself leads to unnessisary trouble,' he reminded himself. He shook his head, his dirty hair falling into his eyes.
Reaching the building out of sheer memory was a thing he was used to, but still hated. He never liked being off his guard, so concentraited more as he made his way through each of the rooms. Over trip wires, around cabnets, through splintered and worn doorframes, before he finally came to the entrance of his ghetto.
He stopped, closing his eye as he had the last time. He prepared himself to take her away, though he had no real reason to. Maybe it was because she was the first one to see his home that he needed to take so much care. Maybe it was just because he wasn't used to dealing with single peoples before.
Taking a deep breathe, he stepped into his ghetto and slowly opened his eyes. He skanned over the room: the filthy sheets on his bed where shooken out, almost looking inviting. Almost. Buckets and boards had been stacked into a makeshift shelf, ingenious really, but they made the other rooms just a litte bare. The shelf was stacked with his papers, discs, shriekers, little nick nacks he'd completely and were on the process of completing, and on the top shelf...
His shrine.
She had moved his shrine entirely to a new place. He growled and moved to grab it, but froze. It looked... good there. Hesitantly, he dropped his hand, and continued to looked around carefully.
Tasha was still curled over in his chair, shaking silently as if she were crying.
"Tasha?" he said. He was ashamed that worry had seeped into his voice, and scolded it before he spoke again. "Are you okay?"
He recieved no answer, so he slowly stepped forwards. With every step, he noticed everything that had changed in the room. The normal dust and grim had been forced to the very edges of the room, not very attractive, but more hygenic then before. Plans of all sorts were posted onto the walls, making them easier to read and covering up some very ugly cracks. His guns, most of which didn't even work at the moment, were all tossed into a crate, rather then thrown around the room to be tripped over...
"Thanks for cleaning up," he found himself saying. He sighed a little. "Hey... look. You don't really have to leave... with you cleaning up and all, it would actually be the logical thing to have you stay, and-" he stopped when he noticed she was still crying. "Tasha?" he moved to touched her shoulder softly...
She disappeared.
Seamus stood, watching where she had sat. His hand started to shake as his shoulders slummed down in submission.
'It wasn't real... it was just a figment of your imagination...' he breathed slowly, and sat down in his chair. He rested his head on the desk, trying to think clearly. 'But if this is a figment of your imagination... maybe your just dreaming? Maybe you didn't do anything to Tasha!'
"Tough luck," he muttered. "No, -she- was a figment of your imagination... maybe she was never here in the first place."
'But everything is all organized.'
"Blacked out, remember?"
'Alright then... what happened to her, Seamus 'Smart Ass' Zealanzy.'
"She was never here."
'She saved your life. You have scars on your back to thank for that; you're not telling me that was a figment of your imagination too? Are you that crazy?'
"I'm having a conversation with myself, so yes, I am crazy enough to have that detailed of an imagination."
'Yes, but those who are crazy think they are sane, so if you think you are crazy, you must be sane.'
"How the hell did I get stuck with a voice in my head that's even more insane that I am?"
'Shut up smart ass. Okay, I'll level wit cha... she was a figment of your imagination, but only just now. Got it? Only. Just. Now. All the other times she was there.'
"And how do you know?"
'I'm your brain Einstien, I know everything.'
"Yeah well, brain? Your really starting to freak me out," Seamus stood up, and walked over to his bed. He fell into it with a sastis faction he though he would never have, though it was less comfortable then before.
He was almost off to sleep, when the voice came back.
'She ran away you know...'