Private Making the best of a bad date

Look more human. That phrase piqued Tilly's interest, but before she could ask about it Aranea shifted the conversation over to her. What did she do in her free time...

Tilly couldn't help but frown ever so slightly, but quickly pulled it back to a sort of neutral smile. She shrugged big time, "Not a whole lot, if A'm bein' honest. The uh, whole chosen one thing doesn't leave a lot of time fer stuff like hobbies or a real job. A listen to podcasts a lot when A'm out doin' deliveries or other jobs. Already an idjit, might as well try an' educate meself a little."

She laughed, the self depreciating humor clearly par for the course with her. "Ah, but ye said yer lookin' at ways to make yerself look more human? Guess A can see that. All them eyes, pretty as they are, would get ye some looks out in the normal world."

"Big ol' mirrored shades, like ye watch too much Top Gun," Tilly laughed, imagining Aranea in a large pair of aviators to hide her multiple eyes. "Ye'd look ridiculous, but also so conspicuous nobody'd suspect a thing. Hidin' in plain sight."

Something brushed against Tilly's calf and she stiffened, her smile falling as she looked around under the table. Her eyebrows furrowed together and she lifted herself back up to sit normally. "Think ye mighta brushed me foot or something. No worries."

"A- well, frankly A wouldn't know. Ain't never been on a date before and-"

Tilly suddenly jerked to the right, a set of equally spaced holes appeared in her shoulder as a small, imperceptible creature fell from the rafters above and sunk it's teeth into her.

"Fuck!" Tilly said, seemingly flailing as she tore the creature off of herself. Her arm lifted into the air as if holding something large and heavy, and then she swung it down. She'd missed one. At least one; there could be more skulking around.

And now everyone was staring at them. She had knocked her glass over in the hurry to get up from the table, she was bleeding from her shoulder, and the worried, muted whispers around her flung Tilly into the past. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

"A got it..." Tilly said though she didn't sound certain, her eyes darting around. Anticipating another attack. The blood running down her arm was probably a concern, but she knew from experience that stopping to lick your wounds when you didn't know you were safe was a bad idea.

"Um, excuse me."

The voice, concerned but also confused, came from a server. Tilly knew the drill at this point. "Ye ain't gotta call the cops or an ambulance. Nobody here's got nothin' t' worry bout but me. So A'll just... leave." The absolute resignation and dejectedness in her voice made it obvious that this was a regular enough occurrence in her life that she didn't even question it.

Glancing over at Aranea, Tilly gave her a tight, tired smile. "Ye ain't gotta come wi' me. A understand."

Tilly did as she was told, dragging her hammer behind her as she trudged defeatedly out of the restaurant. The corners of her eyes were already hot with tears that she refused to cry.

She was a grown woman, and she'd been dealing with this for over a decade. She couldn't cry over something like this. This is what made teenagers break down.

And yet she cried all the same, her shoulders heaving once as she caught her breath in the night air. It was mostly quiet, with only the occasional sniffle to trouble her silence. And luckily, most people on the sidewalk were content to just leave her be, let her be miserable on her own.

She could feel eyes on her in the darkness. Not a person, but one of her many otherworldly stalkers. Watching and waiting. Her arm had already stopped bleeding at this point, but she really just hoped it was a scout and that it would fuck off when it saw that she was still in fighting shape.