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I... I can't sleep in my barrel anymore? [ That'll be hard for him, Swede is very attached to his barrel, he rocks himself to sleep in it and hides in it... so no barrel will take some adjustment. He sniffs. The pirates all sleep together on deck, sleeping alone in a tent will be scary for him. He doesn't realize he is expected to sleep in his own tent yet. In his mind, Mr. Thomas is the new barrel! ]

I... I want to sing... and then we can make coins and I can sleep in the tent with you... and I will try- try to sing good and not be shy... then we- we can get food. [ He smiles shyly up at him, hoping he said all the right things. Swede definitely needs a bath first if he is expected to make any coin. He is being pretty brave about it all, probably because he has no idea what happened. ]

You want to sleep... in the tent... with me. [ Oh nonononono, Thomas did have some limits and boundaries! ] Well I was hoping that you could have your own tent, right next to mine.

And if you'd rather sleep in a barrel, maybe we can afford one of those eventually, too.

[ Please don't make him sleep with a smelly pirate? Even if they managed to somehow get Swede clean, there was drool to think about, and awful memories and nightmares. Swede was larger than Edith, too, which would make Thomas more likely to have nightmares of Lucille. ]

[ He does continue walking towards his tent as they speak, hoping to retrieve the towels to have an easier time of all this. ]

Oh ja... but... I will be afraid... I would much rather sleep in a barrel, please. [ He does drool! But mistaking him for Lucille will be difficult, unless Lucille had surprisingly muscular arms for a Victorian lady. But... but there's no helping he's not very nice to sleep next to, he always rocks himself to sleep, like a baby, so there's constant movement.

He shuffles after him, smiling happily... it is nice that someone tells him what to do, he really is very lost here. ] Are you the new Captain?

There's nothing to be afraid of, [Thomas consoled.] You can talk to me, if our tents are side by side. I'll be right there. In the next tent over.

[Was he... the new captain? He'd love to just say no, and be done with it. He was done being above or below anyone else. But Swede wasn't really prepared for survival, in this place or any other. Well, might as well explain.] You're your own captain, now. Though while you're getting used to this place, I'd suggest staying near me. It's just a suggestion. You'll know what you're doing, soon enough.

[The old brainwashing mantra came back to him now, at the worst of times. Always together, never apart. Thomas' throat closed with fear that he swallowed down, again searching through his pockets.]

[ Poor Swede looks mortified to be told he'd now be in charge of his own life, he's been on pirate ships since he was young and can't even imagine not blindly following his Captain and crewmates' leads. Obviously this is a lot for Swede because he instantly grabs for Thomas' hand again. He'll definitely need a bath himself after all this but hopefully it's more endearing than disgusting to Thomas. Either way it can't be helped, he's very scared. ]

I... I never know... what I am doing? [ His bottom lip quivers. ] I may stay with you, please? I... I am not... naughty like other pirates... I sit and I am quiet... [ He starts to tear up at the idea of having to be alone. ] Please... please? I will wash... I will take a bath and- and try to make coins to buy a clean shirt... I will even cut my hairs. [ It must be serious, he is so attached to his hair and always twirling it. ]

[The Swede's panic is concerning, and Thomas stops once more, to try to hug him again. His sweater was getting so dirty.] Hush. No one's naughty and you don't need to cut your hair. It's all right now.

[ The sweater is now smudged, covered in sand and dirt and smells a little bit like fish because of the fish barrel he always sleeps in. But the hug instantly calms him down, as he looks at him with his vacant blue eyes. ]

I... I do not have to leave? [ He doesn't understand manipulation, though some of his actions come off manipulative, he's genuinely terrified to be alone. ]

[Heartened that the Swede's panic seems to decrease while embraced, Thomas tries to understand Swede's confusion.] You don't have to leave. Washing would certainly make you more money, were you to sing for coin afterward.

I don't understand... why you thought I was asking you to leave? Have you... just always had a captain?

[ He sniffs. ] Ja... when my Mama died I went to work on fishing boats, in Sweden. [ He'd had a Captain and usually, an entire crew that bossed him around since he was about twelve or so. The idea of being alone is so scary, it is no wonder he latches onto Thomas so much. As long as he is cuddled, it is okej though... he feels safe. No one ever embraced him before but now it is his favorite thing. ]

S... sorry... I get so confused... by things. I will try washing up. [ He looks down and smiles shyly, twirling his hair. Hopefully Thomas understands how hard everything is for him. He really barely knows where he is. ]

[Ah, more unwanted memories at the worst times. Thomas stares at the floor while continuing to hug the Swede. He can still see Beatrice's corpse in his mind, and he tries to focus on the Swede's words, wondering if the Swede's mother was someone he missed dearly or... more like Beatrice... or someone he had more complicated feelings for than either extreme.]

[For someone who cares so deeply about others, it may seem odd to Swede that Thomas doesn't attempt to console him about the loss of his mother, or even ask about her. Thomas himself is just so lost in thought that he isn't sure how to respond until the Swede has already continued.]

That sounds like a good idea, [Thomas encouraged in warm tones, pleased that Swede was back to smiling. His sweater was never going to feel clean again, but this was worth it.]

[ The Swede's Mama was just a simple woman, too busy with too many children to really be a good or loving mother but they all got fed and she didn't hit them, but his upbringing wasn't much of one. No time for education. He was always the one clinging to her skirts and then he was suddenly on his own. Despite Thomas not comforting him, it is probably nice for Swede that someone listens to his little stories. ]

C... can you please help me... I don't know how, on the ship, my crewmates just sometimes put a bucket of water on me. Do you have a bucket? [ He is definitely smiling his toothy smile at him now, it is a relief he is not send away. Maybe his presence can be a little soothing to Thomas, Swede would never do anything to hurt anyone or do anything bad on purpose. He is a sweetheart, though a smelly one. ]

I have a glass vase, yes, that I use for washing and decoration. I can grab that, too. There are washrooms around here, but the only place I can really find to pour water over myself is a fountain. Thankfully it's clean and seemingly not frequented very often, so... [Thomas shrugs, letting go of Swede and glancing down at his sweater in a deflated way. All the ew. He was used to it, but even still. Reaching back for the Swede's hand, Thomas attempts to lead him the rest of the way to his tent.]

[ Even for a pirate, the Swede is grubby. He- he sleeps in a barrel. But he is very lucky Thomas overcame the yucks to help him, not a lot of fancy men would see the struggles of someone like this. Swede holds onto his hand instantly, tightly, shuffling after him. He definitely saved the little guy's life, now he won't be eaten. ]

I... I will try to use the washroom... I will do my best. [ He smiles shyly up at him. ] One time, they had combed my hair and- and I looked nicer... [ He wants to maybe try to comb it again... maybe... try to look pretty for Mr. Thomas. He never had anyone give him hugs before so he'd do anything he'd ask. His vacant blue eyes watch him curiously. Everything is so new for him. ]

Eventually they reach a tent in the park, which is made of butter-colored fabric and fully sealed on all sides. Some duct-taping had been required for this, and he'd obviously paid a bit more to have it look like wood. Unzipping the tent, Thomas selects two brown towels with gold trim, and a somewhat cheap looking, rainbow glass vase holding a bottle of conditioner. He leaves behind the small wooden box containing his toothbrush and shaving implements, as well as the toothpaste tube beside it.

The inside of the tent, should Swede take a glance inside as Thomas is selecting items, is not very furnished. There's a green kitchen cart with wooden plates and cups in the base of it, along with cans of food. The top has the items Thomas is taking out for them to use. Evidently he's bought a rug as well, a cheap and fluffy pastel rainbow thing that lines the base of the tent. His bedroll, also brown with gold stitching on it, stays bundled in the back of the tent. It's obviously not a permanent situation, but it's just as obvious that Thomas doesn't really expect his stuff to get stolen while he's out, either. Most people here seemed to already have homes elsewhere and there's not a lot that Thomas has, to steal, really. But the nexus is definitely a place where more customization was possible than Thomas had ever seen before.

"Here," Thomas offers one of the brown and gold towels to Swede warmly. He glanced down with a bit of shyness himself as he admitted, "I'll show you where the nearest washroom is."

Not the best of accommodations. But he wasn't really used to the best accommodations, although he wasn't really used to this yet, either. He'd really only come to live in this place a couple of weeks ago, after his previous living arrangements had fallen through.

The Swede shuffles after him, still holding very tightly onto Mr. Thomas' hand. He shyly takes a towel, probably the nicest thing he ever touched. "Oh... it is soft..." Though it's just a tent, it has so many nice things! And it is all so clean and nice, at least to the life he is used to. He knows he has to get clean before he's allowed to touch anything. He has to be brave.

"I loff it... you have so many different things." The Swede has no idea how to use anything but basic soap, they never had shampoo, conditioner, body wash, anything. He needs a little bit of patience because he is such a slow learner but- but Thomas knows everything there is to know about the simple-minded pirate by now.

He is so grateful for everything he tears up a little again. It'll happen a lot, he doesn't know how to handle getting helped, being treated kindly. It is almost as though Thomas doesn't know he isn't worth anything. His bottom lip wobbles. "W... why aren't you helping someone else? I am just the Swede? You can help... somebody else..." He is still unsure if he deserves all this help, though he was terrified to be alone or to return to his crewmates after what'd happened, after they almost ate him.

Smiling and nodding about the softness of the towel, Thomas is then somewhat embarrassed by the Swede noting how much he has. "I... only became homeless... weeks ago. For the first time in my life. Not that... I was used to luxury before, either."

"I suppose... I spent a lot on decorating things. That I should have saved. But I wanted to keep up hope. I-- wanted it to be beautiful, even if it was small. It's a new start for me, too." Admitting it makes him smile again, warmed and heartened by the promise of a new life away from all the violence.

The way Swede tears up makes Thomas' heart hurt, remembering the way he'd been in awe of Edith taking his bandaged hand in hers so lovingly. His OCD had gone mad at the time, not sure how to handle anyone caring so clearly, especially with her under threat. He'd picked string after string from his own bandages, because they weren't perfect and he wasn't perfect and he'd thought she should just recognize he was a failure, and leave.

And here was Swede doing something so similar! Even the words were practically the same. "No no no no no," Thomas assures, setting down the glass vase and resorting to hugs again. You smell so bad and this is so disgusting and everything will be all right.

"I have been exactly where you are now. I'm telling you that because I want you to understand that you're the person I want to help and that everyone deserves common courtesy, as long as they are not absolutely terrifying. Swede... You are my friend. You are not just the Swede. You are a good man. And you're going to be all right."

There's no need to be embarrassed around the Swede, he's a simple little guy who is just in wonder at his surroundings. "Oh... but... this looks like a nice home..." But then he is used to sleeping on deck in an old barrel.

He smiles shyly, through the tears, once he's given a hug again. It is hard for him to understand that Thomas sees a kindred spirit in him, after all, Thomas isn't a dumb, smelly pirate with missing teeth who only ever makes mistakes, he is very handsome and he smells nice... and he gives the best hugs. Not that the Swede has much comparison.

He quivers. "I... I can't believe... you want to be my friend..." He really can't, it wasn't that his crewmates disliked him, they just forgot he existed most of the time, unless they needed target practice or to eat someone... he sniffs and cuddles up tightly.

"But I am not good? I am a pirate? I am naughty?" After all, he cheered along to all kinds of atrocities from the sidelines. Not that he really understood. Swede really barely knows where he is. "But I only want to sing..." He didn't really want to be a pirate.

Smiling at the compliment, Thomas looks back at the little tent. His little sunlit prismatic pyramid. It was odd to think of it as a nice home; Crimson Peak, for all its horrors and dilapidation, had actually been better furnished and sturdier. Neither was decent for any kind of inclement weather. But hope and sunlight died in Crimson Peak, and in some ways his shoddy little tent was actually the best place he'd ever lived in. Short of that lovely night at the post office that he wished he could relive for the rest of his life. And the few months of having been adopted and living in an actual house, after coming to the nexus. Before that reality had became somehow no longer traversable.

Thomas hushes over the Swede's disbelief, hugging tighter as he hears Swede sniffing. Ew. Ewewewewewewewewewewew. No. No, snot came with tears and tears came with hope and hope was worth the snot. Ew.

"You don't seem like you really want to be a pirate," Thomas pointed out, still holding Swede and becoming one with the fish smell, "I've not seen you make a threat of yourself. And your voice is far too fine to have not had practice."

Between the smell and the snotty tears, there's not much that'd endear the Swede to anyone, especially in his own time, but his sweet, innocent mannerisms and vacant blue eyes are oddly sweet. He's just a sweet dummy, it is hard to dislike someone like that and then there's the low self-esteem, which Thomas sees himself in... Swede never met anyone who thought bad about himself just like him.

He only cries because he's so happy someone wants to be his friend and help him, he needed help so much for all those years and no one wanted to look after him... in time he'll smell a lot nicer, just needs a good scrubbing and to sleep in something not- not an old fish barrel.

He smiles shyly, blushing at being told he doesn't really want to be a pirate. "N... no... I want to sing... I don't like to do a threat." Because he works the rigging, he has very strong arms and he could technically wrestle an attacker to the ground b-but... only if he can't hide in his barrel. What muscle he has is mostly used for mopping and- and now, for hugs. He doesn't want to stop being hugged... ever... he rubs his nose. "Sorry... I making more mess..."

Edited 2022-10-12 00:03 (UTC)

Hearing that Swede didn't like to threaten people causes Thomas to give a warm, if teary smile as he continues holding the ex-pirate. He hadn't expected any other dynamic to be the case, but still it was nice to hear.

He decides to accept the snot drenching as an odd sort of disgusting mark of honor. It could be hope snot. That didn't make his inner screaming about it stop, but it did warm and quiet his heart a bit. It was sort of like gardening, getting mutual benefits from difficult and terrifyingly messy tasks. Just with people. And nasal fluid.

"Shhhhh," Thomas hushes, still holding the Swede. He couldn't tell the other man the extent of his gross-out, and they were both getting teary and Thomas only wanted all the gross and upset to be over, for both of them...

"Shhhhhh. The mess is from your tears. And the tears are from your hope. And I would never frown on that." Okay some of the mess also definitely smelled like fish gone very, very old, and still more parts of the mess were unidentifiable, but Thomas wanted Swede to feel better and cleanliness was going to happen soon, at any rate.

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