It's a feeling we always chase

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

Her mouth quirked, a smile playing on the lips even as she kept her eyes on the table, on the food. Spine tingling under the weight of his gaze on her. "Good thing you live right next to a shrine exclusively dedicated to Safrin and Vi, then," she replied, sounding amused. "Not much of a walk."

Done with the peeling and chopping, Maea found a kettle and brought it to her on a wave of telekinetic energy. Filling it up with ingredients and summoned water, she added salt, a few herbs and then wiped her hands.

"Done. Just need to cook for a while now." With a slightly overdramatic gesture she bequeathed the kettle to Sunjata, to decide where to cook it. On the already lit fire, or a new one? Maea could bring it to boil with magic too, but somehow that felt like cheating.

"For what it's worth, I would follow you, if you ever decided that you wanted to do something." She said it in passing, like it was nothing, but the girl was quite sincere.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

A snort is granted to Maea at the comment of the shrine, a slight nod as well. “It’s almost like it was planned.” He teases lightly – even though it wasn’t. Not even close. He’d only visited the shrine in passing, having never fully gone – just stood around the bottom of it to offer his prayers. Perhaps it’s time he tries to, see what he can do for his goddess now that things have calmed down enough and he can give her his full attention, without the weight of Adam and Peter’s deaths on the forefront of his mind.

Soon, she tells him that it just needs to cook, and he nods to that – standing to take the kettle and start a smaller fire in the stove. This one was far easier to start, still using the lighter Libbs had given him to give it all that more edge. That and he was tired of using matches all the time anyway. So once the fire has started and it seems even enough, he fixes the section for the kettle to hang from, not directly within the flame to smother but just enough to warm it up and blend it all together and cook evenly.

He reaches for a poker to rest against the wall by where the food cooks for when he needs to move the wood around, before he pauses at the comment she gives him. He’s not sure what to say, an so he inhales deeply with his back to her, ensuring the fire will continue to burn. “I know you would.” He says quietly after a few moments, turning to her. “And I appreciate it… I do.” He offers her with a slightly softer smile.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

"Almost," she agreed, heart warming at the gentle teasing. "Too bad I don't believe in fate, or destiny, or we could spin a pretty legend about you."

She watched with some interest as he again lit the fire, using some device she had never seen before. "What... is that?" Maea asked, intrigued. Building and lighting fire was a tedious, boring task she'd done all her life, but only a fire mage should be able to do it that quickly...

Maea had not expected an answer when she proffessed her loyalty to him. Didn't need one, really... but he gave her one anyway. Turned to look at her, with a soft smile that made her breath catch. She met his gaze, meaning to smile back, or shrug, or... But it all faded from her mind, as she kept looking at him, lost in the color of his eyes.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

There’s a small smirk that crosses his face when she comments about spinning a legend about him. “Ack, no thanks.” He rumbles with a quiet ghost of a chuckle as the flame begins to take and before he can fully set the lighter back in his pocket, she questions it. But she’s looking at him, still as can be, and he’s watching her curiously as well before he takes the few strides over to stand beside her.

He leans down against the table, pulling the lighter up in full view to flip off the top and show her. “It’s a lighter. We had them in Korofi and apparently Libbs’ had them where she’s from. She made me one for the Midnight Gathering.” The smile is a bit fond and nostalgic as he thinks on it.

But then he presses his thumb against the wheel and slides it down, sparking the flame that continues to run without moving, like a match would. “Usually uses its own kind of fuel but we don’t have it here. So it uses alcohol instead.”

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

Gazes locked, and he was staring back at her. Puzzled, curious; Maea knew she should break it off, blink, do something. But then he was coming towards her, settling in beside her. Leaned against the table to show off the device, to explain what it was... and she listened. Really, she did, it was just so hard to focus on the specifics when her whole body tingled from the presence of him. So close. It was hard to breathe.

"That's very clever," she said, lips a bit numb. Maea reached out a hand, pulled her finger through the steady flame, as if to check that it really was warm, and not some illusion. "What kind of fuel should it be?"

Wasn't it ridiculous? Here was a man she had spent the better part of a whole season with, shared her body and mind with. Fought, sheltered, loved, almost lost in too many ways. How could he still make her heart race, just by standing there? Why couldn't she just raise her eyes to look at him, when it was all she could do a moment ago? Why was her face flushing, the skin along her spine tense as if ready to split open at the slightest touch of his hand?

Why was it that she craved that touch so much?

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

The comment of it being clever causes a slight smile to cross his face. He remembers the one he had in Korofi, etched into the metal of the sides to show his initials, the wing of a bird that wrapped around that faded into a wave of water.

He’s distracted by the thought of his previous one by the question she poises to him. “Usually it’s just called lighter fluid.” He says quietly, focusing on the lighter in his hand as he closes the top to suffocate the flame. Then, after that, he holds it in one hand and flicks it open to lift the lid again, using the momentum to spin it in his hand to where his thumb sits on the wheel and he lights it again.

He smirks over to her then, thinking nothing of the closeness of them, trying his best not to — but also not moving away either. “Here, you try.” He says, closing the lighter and handing it to her.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

Had she ever thought it torturous, to have his fingers trace lines over her skin, circling the places where passion and pleasure waited? Well, this was torture too. A not so sweet kind, a stepping around each other, more mentally than physically. Where the game of keep away was one of glances, of pointless conversation that led to nothing, just a cover for what went on in their minds. What was he really thinking, when he spoke of lighter fluid and played with fire?

He handed her the lighter, and Maea took it, trying not to flinch when her fingers brushed against his for a fraction of a second. The device was heavier than it looked, the metal still retaining the warmth from his hand.

She turned it over between her fingers, examining it by touch as much as sight. Anything to distract herself from where he lingered, unmoving. Maea pried the lid open, examined the tiny hinges, the wheel and the muzzle where the flame had come from. She tried to spin it like he had, and found that it took a few tries before she got the right snap in, the right speed required to kindle the fire. Transfixed, Maea watched it sputter to life and die away again when she popped the lid down over it...

There was an urge to keep toying with it, see it light and extinguish over and over again. But she restrained herself, and after a while she handed it back to Sunjata.

"That's a very practical gift. If you ever decided to make the Advocates a legitimate business... then you and Libbs could become very wealthy indeed." If by wealth you counted the possession of items, trinkets and objects of relative value.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

He watches her within his own silence, trying to figure out what she might be thinking while figuring out how the device worked, what it was like. Was it all just for that Loreseeker’s brain or was it merely a distraction? He can’t tell, nor does he particularly want to figure it out – doing his best to keep everything hidden and swallowed down. It works, relatively easily, and he’s thankful for it regardless.

Still, she picks it up pretty easily, and he raises a brow in quiet surprise and amusement, a slight smirk crossing his face as she hands it back to him. He takes it, rolling the lighter between his hand and palm a few times as he listens to her. “Ah, poor Libbs would have to be a working machine in order to keep up with everyone.” He rumbles with a quiet hum of a laugh that tickles his throat.

But he sighs and sets the lighter on top of the table as he keeps his eyes on it curiously. “Besides, legitimate businesses can be boring.” A small half smirk crossing his face as he glances to her and winks.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

She smiled at the idea of poor Libbs cooped up in a workshop, producing nothing but these little tools. It seemed unlikely that the flighty woman would put up with that for very long. Like a small death, cooping her up like that.

Sunjata's quip, his wink, had her shrug slightly. Amused, but... "Can't say I would know... The only 'wrong' thing I can recall doing is take an item from Remi's workshop when he was thought to be dead. And he wasn't even upset about it, when I tried to give it back."

Was it fun and thrilling to steal? To break rules, cross lines? Maea had no idea.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

He does raise a brow in quiet surprise at the mention that she’d stolen something from Remi’s shop. A snort leaves him regardless as he turns to face her a bit more fully, scouting her face for something that proves otherwise. “Did you really?” A slightly avian head tilt to that. “I also stole something from there.” A quieter rumble as he thinks on it. Remi hadn’t wanted it back either, and he’d managed to figure out who held the other piece of that unknown puzzle.

Only… It hadn’t mattered much in the end. “He didn’t want my piece back either.” A slight shrug. “What did you take?” Wondering if perhaps she’d shown up after he’d been there – if the item she had taken was one he had briefly considered before grabbing the unassuming parchment that Phoebe bore the other half of. How he hadn’t dared to write on it, thinking of how to take the second piece to have Peter relate to him what was happening in Halo.

Ah, if only things had gone differently.

But if they had, if everything had gone differently, well… He wouldn’t be here with Maea with memories within the walls of this home, no grooves in the table once laden with dust. No house on the beach.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

Ah, she had surprised him. It always pleased her when that happened. Maea enjoyed the expression on his face, the raised brow and the way he looked harder at her. As if trying to read the truth on her face. She was less startled to hear he had done the same... though not entirely free from the sentiment either. Weren't they friends?

"Yes, I really did," she assured. Reaching up to the neck, she tugged on a leather cord and hauled a glass lens from where it had rested against her chest. Plain and unadorned, no bigger than the palm of a hand, she held it up for Sunjata to see. "It lets you see through illusions," she explained. "Remi said Safrin made it for him, in defense against some of Ludo's tricks played on him."

She found it rather amusing to be in the possession of two items from gods... especially considering the nature of the lens.

"What about you, what did you take?" she asked, daring a glance up at the man beside her. Despite knowing she should go to sit down, or clean the table, Maea didn't move away.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

She reaches up and pulls out a lens connected to a leather cord, and his gaze immediately snaps to it as she explains – brows furrowing ever so slightly at it. It seemed familiar, but unassuming, and he hadn’t known the nature of the lens until this moment. For all he knew, he’d thought it was just a lens the Alchemist could use to better see his work.

Which seems a bit ridiculous now, considering Remi’s creations were incredible and impeccable without the need to see them up close in detail.

The question of what he took, however, has him moving away from her side toward the center room again – pulling a drawer open and pulling out a piece of parchment. He returns, standing beside Maea once more as he spreads out the piece and weighs down the sides of it. “I took a piece of parchment.” He snorts, as if that’s all the explanation he needs.

But he supplies more, just so she doesn’t think he’s insane. “Apparently it has a second half, so anything written here shows up on the other. I thought it might be possible to grab the second piece and use it for the Advocates.” A slight wave of his hand to that before his smile and amusement fades. “But it’s quite unlikely I’ll get the second half anytime soon so now it’s just… A boring piece of parchment I keep.”

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

He left to retrieve the item, and his absence was like a chill through her bones. Ridiculous, when he was still right there, in front of her eyes. Swallowing hard, Maea tried to push the intense awareness of him away, swallow it down. Sunjata seemed so calm, so in control... He was probably not even bothered by any of this. It was just her, in her head.

She looked at the parchment and saw only an unwritten page, which... did make a brow rise, until he explained why he had forsaken so many other things for the unassuming sheaf. "Why is it unlikely?" she asked. "You don't know who has it?" It seemed the more likely guess. He was a self-proclaimed thief after all, if he wanted to get the other half then.. wouldn't he just take it?

Maea had to admit, it was a neat trick.

"If we had those, I wouldn't have to burn your letters," she mused, mostly to herself. A bit guilty, as she hadn't actually followed that particular instruction.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

“I know who has it.” He says quietly, pausing only to hear her next comment about burning letters. A slight ghost of a smile crosses his face at that, a half nod and a shrug granted back to her. “I originally wanted to give the other half to Peter. So I could keep tabs on things in Halo, and you.” He says shooting her a slight glance before shaking his head and looking back down to the parchment with a light frown.

“Phoebe has the other half.” He explains, head tilting a small amount as he stares at it with a small frown forming, muscles clenching in his jaw. “I still want to get my ring back, too, but… We’ll see.” He offers, continuing to stare at the parchment briefly until he shifts in where he stands to lean a hip against the table – the smell of the meal Maea’s preparing slowly beginning to waft through the kitchen.

His gaze flits to her face then, absentmindedly biting on the inside of his cheek.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell