(Rewhister Ocean at the end of the event)
On the list of monumental fuck-ups in her life, flubbing her own suicide was probably second place (following the Incident Which We No Longer Speak Of), but right there behind it, nipping at it's fucking heels, was this moment.
She had no idea why she had A) agreed to come back here in the first place, B) actually decided this morning that she was going to come back here after all, or C) showed up with a blanket and some snacks just in case she had to wait a while for him to show up. This was stupid. This was really fucking stupid. Someone doesn't try to kill themselves, get rescued by a merperson who probably still wants to eat them, get convinced by said merperson to give the whole living thing another chance, and then agree to meet with an apex predator of the ocean AT the same ocean she fucked up her suicide in two days so that said apex predator can check in to make sure she didn't slit her wrists in the shower instead of following the agreement to stay alive for a while.
In other words, Talia was grumpy, cold, sitting on a too-cheery brightly colored beach towel next to the pier where she'd tried to kill herself two days ago angrily munching on cheez-its and staring moodily at the water waiting for a busy-body merperson to show up and check that she wasn't dead. She'd thrown on jeans and a hoodie, but to be on the safe side she was also wearing knee-high socks and gloves that went all the way to her elbows so that if she DID accidentally touch anyone she probably wouldn't kill them. Not unless she got startled enough that her spines popped out and injected them with a concentrated dose of venom. Ugh.
He'd better show up soon. She was ready to leave.