Cheap Drinks, Cheap Thoughts

[Shay Cormac]

In a monumentally small amount of time spent in the Omniverse, Shay Patric Cormac, scourge of the Colonial Assassin Brotherhood, thought to himself only a few numerous weeks beforehand that it was a good time to leave Nippur and New Babylon behind. Though, Shay only soon realized how big of a mistake this was on his conscious.

The man chuckled to himself, looking around, his vision still fuzzy. Where was he again? Oh, yes.

The Deeps, as they're called. In an empty local bar located in the middle of... some island the Templar forgot the name of already. Not like it mattered to him anymore. Not since she left.

Shay looked around, the seemingly empty tavern was barren of any noise. Though the man could barely see, Shay swore he didn't see any bartenders around either. What was he thinking about again?

She. She.

Who was she, again? Shay hated asking, but...

Then he remembered, clear as day. It wasn't Hope. No, he couldn't have cared less for that, quite literally, toxic fool.

Agnès.

The Templar hated to repeat the name. He looked down, the glass in his hand half-full with cheap booze shaking at the mere mention. Why? Shay asked himself over and over, why did he feel so without purpose?

The more and more he tried to answer that question, the more regrets piled onto his shoulders. Even before he was picked clean from his own plane of existence and dropped into the Omniverse, Shay was always asking himself the same thing. Yet, even with purpose, a cause or a creed to follow, the ex-Assassin couldn't find himself an answer.

Laughing to himself once again, Shay took another sip of the absloutely rancid achohol. It was cheap, if Shay remembered correctly, and he wasn't sure exactly why he bought it in the first place. He couldn't remember a lot of things, in fact. But still, that name rang in his head like a gong.

Agnès.

The Templar felt his eyes watering knowing that the last person who truly seemed to care for him disappeared. Even the short days following, Shay tried to reassure himself that she'd come back eventually, so they could finally protect those in need. Together.

Yet, she never did.

Suddenly, Shay's temples started to strain. Couldn't handle the pressure, the man concluded ever so groggily. Taking his gloved hand to his head, Shay's mind began focusing solely on laying his head down. And so he did, drifting into another drunken sleep.

---

Hours had passed, Shay waking up in the middle of said time frame with the worst hangover he's quite possibly had in years. Thinking over it, Shay would laugh at the concept only months ago, thinking he was over drowning his sorrows in alcohol.

Now, he only felt shame.

Looking at the now slightly filled tavern, bards playing their music, Shay felt out of place for once. His arms crossed as he looked up towards the ceiling, dust flying in the light shining past him.

The Templar, lost in thought, felt something heavy in his pocket. His front pockets, in matter of fact. Shay usually never put anything there whatsoever, but... Then he remembered.

That strange device Shay was suggested to get before he left Nippur. A guard told him to hold onto the small, metal tablet in hopes their higher-up Prime would have an easier means of communication, but...

His head ached once more remembering the situation.

In a desperate attempt to keep his mind off of things, Shay managed to pull the dinky tablet out of his coat. He stared at it for a moment, wondering how to turn it on again. In a good second or two, the man eventually realized the button on the bottom of the glass bit of the tablet did the trick.

The screen flashed. Many, many choices of colorful buttons presented themselves to him as the Templar eventually realized how touch-screens worked. It might've been comical, had anybody been looking, and out of context. But, Shay did hear plenty of nifty things about this strange 'Dataverse' entity. Perhaps he could read something to get his mind off of things there? Better yet, figure out how to use the damned machinery in his hand.

Still, even as his headache faded, Shay could feel his stomach wrenching. And it wasn't over the alcohol. Something felt... off, he realized, still pressing around and trying to figure out how to use the little thing.

Oh well. If Lady Luck truly did watch over Shay, she'd have done something already, right?

[Shay Cormac]

Shay Cormac, almost sniffling at the sudden blots of pixels forming a message on the little screen of his Communicator, immediately placed the device down onto the table to think.

The Templar didn't even feel a need to reply. Firstly, Shay already forgot how to do so, and more importantly, there wasn't a need to.

Victor Wolfe sure knew how to press at people's buttons, and Shay could tell for certain, the slight ping of regret knotting up his stomach confirmed that fact. Shay didn't entirely know what he expected Victor to say. Perhaps the Templar was so amused of his achievement of finding this person's Dataverse "e-mail" in the first place that he didn't think over what he posted?

No, Shay deserved this. And he knew Victor was right.

He'd have to go back to Nippur.

There was no excuse for this. Shay knew Victor saw through the man messaging him like a glass pane. It was obvious that Shay was just avoiding doing what was necessary to take a "break" he thought he deserved. Shay, his lips quivering, thought now he deserved none other than punishment for his actions. But, with nobody to give them, the Templar decided to take matters into his own hands.

Half-drunk, the Templar captain only now realized how Agnès would have taken this. Guilt building up in his stomach, Shay Cormac knew she'd claim it as unacceptable. Even if New Babylon was gone, those innocent people weren't. Almost feeling his eyes water, Shay rubbed at his face, staying silent for a good moment to think further about himself.

A few seconds passed, and Shay raised his arm slightly, grasping at the glass bottle containing a sizable amount of alcohol within it. In about less than a second, Shay put his two feet down onto the creaky wooden floor of the tavern, picked himself up from the stool he sat on, and downed the rest of the drink before putting it aside. Thankfully it didn't fall over, because the man was already beginning to storm out of the door.

---

Some good distance away from that same tavern Shay Cormac was sulking in, the Templar, with a newfound motivation within his hands,  had to chuckle at this whole ordeal. A light giggle, still weighed down by his own thoughts, but a sign of amusement nonetheless. Thinking back on that message, Shay knew of course that he'd want to stay and help the people of Nippur after what Victor Wolfe posted to him, but... Something about that cocky bastard made Shay want to prove that assassin wrong. Nothing personal, or...

Well, maybe a bit personal.

Either way, for the first time in weeks, Shay put his chin up high as he began his long, foot-aching walk to what he remembered to be the Gates of this verse.