We Call It History

SUNJATA

isn't it funny?
how the cold numbs everything but grief?

While Sunjata agrees about the gods to a point, he fails to see the agreement on the Voice. “The Voice calls them her ‘bright ones’ does she not? Isn’t her goal to just… Make them perfect?” Remi had alluded to as much when it came down to the Voice and the patch he had made Sam once upon a time. “Most of them are sick… I think that’s proof enough of good intentions.” His voice is quieter now, before a thought hits him again. “She won’t even appear fully to them.” She had appeared as a hologram, and Sunjata knew that wasn’t entirely correct based on what he knows of the goddess.

But he lets that thought falter, shifting as Nate offers up talk of Bart, the squirming and frustration and anger palpable. Sunjata knows why. He doubts Loren does, but he sets the cup down so he might wrap both his arms around Nate and keep him close to try and soothe it. “Nate had a twin too.” He explains at first, loosening his hold on Nate so he might peer back at Loren. And he did everything he could but his twin didn’t make it. You have to understand. There’s worry and fear that sets in. “What other options do they have? We asked the Voice what we could do to help, this is the only thing she said that could.” He has to see it, has to understand, doesn’t he?

It seems like they’re not getting anywhere though, Sunjata can feel his heart thundering in his chest, feathers sparking along his shoulders beneath the jacket he wears and peeking up from his collar as he regards Loren. When it comes to it, Neron could take Loren to the Voice, but it still doesn’t alleviate anything of Sunjata’s worries, so he lets go of Nate to turn more fully toward Loren, a dark sorrowful gleam in his gaze. “Take Nate too.” They can stay that long, he thinks. Please take him when you go.

if we could light up the room with pain,
we'd be such a glorious fire

NATE

I feel a bubble in my organs and veins
In trouble, but ignoring the pain

There is more that wants to bubble out, memories and his own failings, projected onto another man, an uncanny unwanted mirror. Nate feels a tremor run through his body, his fist clenching tighter still, nails now slick with fluid. He almost gets the chance to step forward, when arms circle him. All of the fight bleeds out of him in an instant, shoulders slumping and his gaze drifting somewhere very far away.

”Told you what it takes.” He murmurs, hollow eye finding Loren’s face, and not moving. Supporting arms draw back, and Nate sways, just a touch. ”Tried to give her water, and she said no.” It would be the same with the lilies, the same with whatever cure the Firebrand is working on that is so promising. Is it selfish, taking food from the mouth of one to help the other? Perhaps. But they have no other options, at least sane, Nate can lend his skill, his expertise. Right now though, all he is is a shell of emotions and impulses, self control a distant dream.

And again, anger bubbles out, the hollow mask shattering, just enough for Nate’s lip to curl and a snarl to leave him. ”Oh we can? We have your permission?” The vitriolic words are strange, compared to the blankness of the ascendeds gaze, still locked on Loren. Emotion, aimed improperly, wasted, on an irritation that doesn’t matter. The hot flash is gone as quickly as it came though, arms drawing away from him entirely and Nate’s hand twisting more securely in Sunjata’s shirt.

There’s another tremble, Nate’s voice far less steady when it comes out this time. ”When it comes down to it.” He corrects, before pausing, stare finally breaking away from Loren to move to his husband instead. There’s surprise, an aborted shifting of Nate’s brows before the hand in the attuned’s clothes slips to find his hand instead, and squeezes. He doesn’t ask for anything else, doesn’t have anything clever or angry to add to the request. There’s nothing left in him but a rapidly dwindling hope.

doubling my score in the game
Fuck you and your whores into fame

Loren

You gotta go after the things you want
While you're still in your prime

Bowing his head, Loren sighed. Staring into the depths of his tea, he bit his lip. "I don't know." Raising his gaze, he met Sunjata's eyes. "But I can't justify handing over the metal to her unless we've exhausted all other options. Not after the Blight." Jaw feathering with tension, fur rippled along the healer's arms again.

"The Voice doesn't know everything. None of the gods do." Pausing, he added, "I'm asking you for some time to try this new cure. Please." Taking a deep breath, he turned to Nate. "I am sorry to hear about your brother." The Firebrand took a sip from his cup, veiling his expression so the other two men couldn't see it clearly.

Blinking at the doctor's outburst, Loren's lips parted slightly. "I just meant if it was full..." Voice trailing off, he glanced at the Arbiter.

Nodding at the request to bring the Ascended along to visit the goddess, the healer ran a hand through his hair. "If I can." Then he sagged a little. His eyes, which had dark circles under them, became downcast and the faint hint of color bled out of his cheeks.

"This is killing me, okay? I was sick too. So I know what Neron is going through. What Nate is going through. And to know that there is something I could do about it, and stopping myself from running to do it is tearing me up inside." The careful control he had over his emotions and himself shattered and the frustration, fear, and sorrow he'd been keeping a tight rein on bubbled up through the bond with his fellow Attuned. Turning away so the other men couldn't see the tears in his eyes, the Firebrand hugged one arm to his chest. "But I can't afford to let my judgment be clouded by emotion."

There's a fine, fine line between love
And a waste of time

SUNJATA

isn't it funny?
how the cold numbs everything but grief?

“I had the blight.” Sunjata rumbles, a bit of frustration edged in his tone. “The Ascended didn’t get it, if you remember. And now they’re sick and this is the only thing she's asking for.” His jaw clenched as he cuts himself off, as Nate’s words break and he pulls his arms away from his husband though he can still feel Nate’s hand twisting in his clothes.

As for not knowing everything, he takes a slow inhale, trying to keep the battling urges through him from showing out too much. “She knows everything about her creations, though, does she not?” It’s quieter, voice wavering. He’s terrified, afraid that this new cure might use up the only hope they have of fixing the Ascended. And fear makes impulsive decisions. But for Sunjata, he’s nearly all impulse, it’s how he’s made it this far, he clings to it.

“You will.” He urges. He will take Nate. He has to.

But then he feels the flooding of the bond and it breaks something in him, body attempting to partially shift to a number of different feelings until rage eventually overtakes him, arms and neck coated with interlocking plates of armor from his dragon shift when he finally looks at Loren again, can feel Nate’s eyes on him. “Stop letting it kill you and do something about it then. You are the only one that can.” He’s the only one that knows where the metal is. He’s the only one that can grab it and bring it, and the fact that they’ve gotten nowhere short of begging and pleading, it aggravates Sunjata even more.

So rather than letting himself delve into lightning and wings and fury, Sunjata sharply turns away realizing they’re not getting anywhere, jaw clenched tight. He reaches for Nate, wrapping an arm around the Ascended and begins to move toward the door, leaving the cup of tea where it was. “I hope you do the right thing.” He manages, perhaps a bit more gruffly, and leaves through the door they came to head back to the Kraai — though perhaps with a quick pit stop to simply let the rage overcome him.

— FIN!

if we could light up the room with pain,
we'd be such a glorious fire