where the shadow ends

temporary fleeting thrills, keep me bruised and make me ill
my skin has lavender tones

Once again, he keeps his calm – he deserves all her ire anyway. He spies the wrinkling of her nose, but so far his gut remains free of any impalement. So he swallows hard against her really? and the follow up. He deserves all of it, but she has the reasoning wrong. He’d never cast her aside because she didn’t play into his delusions. He disappeared because he didn’t want to continue to disappoint her in his pointless efforts to try and keep Nate alive. He’d gotten so wrapped up in trying to play every side that he ended up drowning in his own stupid decision making in the process.

“That’s not the reason why.” He starts, testing the waters, before he trudges on, hoping that she understands. “I was terrified of anything happening to Nate and I stupidly thought that I actually held any power in preventing it.” A brief pause. “I distanced myself because I was too focused on trying everything I could to keep the worst from happening. I blinded myself from reason. I wanted power from Safrin to try and keep him safe and she turned me into a weapon, so I turned to Frey because they promised me they’d let me make the refuge a place that Ascended could go and survive through it provided the Voice agreed.” He works his jaw and shakes his head, sucking in a quiet breath. “She agreed but refused to let Nate come. And then the worst did happen and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I still don’t, but I want to be a better person now.” He’d distanced himself, stayed away, trying to pick his pieces up on his own, not wanting to be another burden or a thorn in everyone’s side.

Besides, it isn’t like he’s welcome most places these days anyway. The war had made it better for him, now that the Ascended threat was no longer there, but he was used to being told he needed to leave. So he hid out in the one place that he’d shared a connection with Nate. The one place that didn’t refuse to harbor him. A nomad, living in the bones of the refuge once the war had ended. Alone, for nobody’s fault but his own.

"It will take me a long time to prove it to you, Melita, but I'm asking for you to take a chance in letting me try." All he wants is a fighting chance, but if she's made up her mind regardless, he understands.

the flood

tell me i'm a loaded gun, tie me up and come undone
i can cover it up, i can cover it up

totally sniped from odd ilu

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

Her teeth clicked together, jawline feathering, hands tightening over another glass, immediately wanting to down it. Some of the reasoning was a big no shit: that one person thought he could take on the rest of the world, that he’d been arrogant or confident enough to strive and try and failed so fucking hard every time. And some portions just made her more bitter, because he should’ve seen some sign of how the nuances were layered and stacked against him, or asked before - decreed his intentions to Nate, to see if they’d be even feasible, manageable.

But that hadn’t been Sunjata’s way. Headfirst, plunging blindly on, no end to the ruin.

Ordinarily, that might’ve been Melita’s game too – but not with these aims and ambitions.

“And none of it fucking worked,” she hissed again, a dangerous look in her eyes. Why they were bothering to rehash the same old wounds was beyond her now. “I tried to help you so many times,” in her own way – through the brash, cold, hard truths, from fires and houses engulfed, from just being able to forge onward without running stupidly into another deity’s game. “And I’m not sure how to let you even try to fix things.” The emboldened trace of her eyes persisted, the defiance blistering. “You weren’t the only one left alone.” At least Nate had tried to keep her tethered, tied, close. Her thoughts roamed to the empty house she kept, to the way the sea breeze snagged on cliffs. “I really just want you to pull your head out of your ass.”

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

temporary fleeting thrills, keep me bruised and make me ill
my skin has lavender tones

So far, he’s still safe from any woundings, and he does his best to keep his emotions out of their conversation – knowing all too well he’s quick to grow defensive when he really has no reason to be in this instance. He’d fucked up and he needs to be the one to understand it, admit it, and hope that he can do better.

So when she tells him that none of it worked, he nods his head, exhaling a soft sigh. “No, it didn’t.” He agrees, lips twisting into a frown that tugs on the scar on his cheek, the Flood watching her as she grows even more defiant, emboldened, and Sunjata nods even as it feels heavy on his chest, hurts deep down where the spaces between his ribs could fit the daggers she’s easily digging in. “You did try to help and I was too stupid to listen.” He pauses.

He isn’t sure how to fix things either, but perhaps he can try. Prove to her that she’s still family and that he needs to pay attention more. “I’m sorry I abandoned you. I’m sorry that I left you when I should have been there for you.” He exhales a soft sigh, lifts his gaze from her to scan the party, before he spies a drink beside her that she hasn’t claimed yet and snags it since she already has one in her hand.

“I think I have. I haven’t… Done anything. Isla and I have made a brothel as per Frey’s suggestion. That’s all I’ve been up to since.” Except squirreling himself away into the shadows of loneliness, in a refuge that nobody needed anymore. “Are you still with Jack’s crew?” He asks before he takes a sip of the alcohol.

the flood

tell me i'm a loaded gun, tie me up and come undone
i can cover it up, i can cover it up

totally sniped from odd ilu

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

It was likely for the best – had he become defensive or countered any of her measures with anything other than accountability, it would’ve only incited further damage. Stoked all the raw anger left in her lungs. Kindled, incited, contorted every little blade she kept on her person. Ensured some manner of violence and vehemence in a minute amount of time; and days, seasons before, she would’ve gladly wiped his blood off her daggers.

It kept her on guard too, rather than plunging desperately into hatred and abhorrence. Melita had expected contradiction and withdrawal, a dismissal of her feelings, as he’d done time and time again. Responsibility and liability for his shitty actions made her eyes narrow, her teeth hiss and grind, but didn’t raise a weapon to stick between his ribs. “Are you still too stupid?”

The apologies raked over her spine, and for a moment she looked away, uncertain of what to say or how to respond. Maybe just hearing them was enough for now. She couldn’t say she accepted it. She couldn’t say much more than the simplistic venture spewing its way from her lips. “Apologies have more meaning when you change alongside them.” A wait and see, if nothing else.

Which was what he was apparently trying to do.

But words hadn’t meant much before, and so she didn’t give much credence to them now. Her eyes narrowed briefly, swindling back to him, as he mentioned Isla. And a brothel. Exactly what everyone fucking needed after a war and desperately trying to restore themselves. A brothel. At least that tracked with where his mind usually was. "Surprised you're even here, honestly."

His question caused her nose to wrinkle for no reason other than some layer of spite and vitriol. “Yeah.” And he was probably pissed off at the Flood for a variety of reasons too.

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

temporary fleeting thrills, keep me bruised and make me ill
my skin has lavender tones

It’s an honest question, even if it hurts to hear it flipped back onto him. And the Flood takes a deep breath before responding with a shake of his head. “I don’t think so.” He’s gotten wiser, older, smarter in the fact that he wants to stay out of the drama. Too tired, too over all the terrible things it had cost him in his life up to now. And now, with the people and the things that had remained, well, he wanted to try and appreciate them for what they were. Even if Melita and him had always clashed. Perhaps if his choices improved, so too would their relationship.

Perhaps he could be more like Nate. Someone that didn’t darken the doorstep the second he stepped foot onto it. So eh nods when she tells him that it means more when he changes, despite having no means to prove it to her. “I know.” He agrees softly, nodding his head as if to show her he understood what she was getting at, but there’s no follow up – no way for him to prove it right now. So they would have to wait and see, and he hopes that he can prove it to her all the same.

“Why’s that?” He asks, when she tells him that she’s surprised he’s here. “I’m trying not to be the hermit I have been.” An effort to get back out there, however hard it might be each and every day.

And when it comes to Jack and his crew, well, he hasn’t seen the Captain in some time, likely not on friendly terms either these days if for no other reason than the reasons that he’s heard he’s following Safrin now. (He knows there’s more to it, though, he’s just not in a position to find out). “How’s that going? Still running the cannons?” He tries to shift the subject to something easier, purely interested in what she has been up to more so than what Jack’s been up to.

the flood

tell me i'm a loaded gun, tie me up and come undone
i can cover it up, i can cover it up

totally sniped from odd ilu

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

Perhaps time would be the true judge of Sunjata’s thinking and dramatic capabilities – Melita certainly couldn’t, not presently, not full of foaming rage and quiet embers. The seething part of her smoldered only a little now though, the grasp not as tight over the latest glass in her hand. Probably due to the alcohol intake.

Even his snag on the meaning of her statement seemed to fade into I know - a necessity to be proven rather than just stated. He’d done it a million times before, so the Honeybee was hesitant to preside in any of those hopes lingering. Or if she cared. She still wasn’t sure, and processing wasn’t happening in this collective moment.

Her eyes narrowed as he asked the why behind her semblances. Even if it’d been years, the theatrics, displays, and unwinding stupidity that had sent the seas into a lurch were hard to put back into the vault – and even if he wanted to forget, that didn’t mean citizens would. “Because of how things ended with Torchline. With Safrin.” With his collapsed leadership. With the war. With the Old Gods winning. With everything else either crumbling or triumphing. In truth, she was surprised the goddess hadn’t come down from the sky and annihilated him already.

She slung back another shot, content with the way it burned down her throat, flickering over the edges of her illustrious fire. The Ark’s travels and traversings had yet to start once more, and Melita wasn’t about to go racing off to remind the Captain about the Hollowed shitfest anytime soon. “Yeah. Jack wants to go to the fucking Grounds.” She glared into her drink, as if it was at fault. “I already told him it was a horrible idea.”

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

temporary fleeting thrills, keep me bruised and make me ill
my skin has lavender tones

“Ah.” Sunjata responds, the glaring obvious not coming to mind when he’d asked given how far in-depth he’d gotten from it. He’d assumed it was something less… General than that. “Safrin didn’t allow Nate to lead alongside me so I gave Torchline to Maeve.” He shrugs a shoulder – knowing that Melita already knew that part of the story. “She did… Actually kill me though. Ronin revived me. So maybe he’s getting the ire from her of my still being here.” How much easier would it have been if Ronin hadn’t done that, though?

They’d all never know.

But he puffs out a sigh and finishes off the drink he’d snagged when she takes the shot, only to stare at her dumbly when she tells him that Jack wants to go to the Grounds. And maybe it’s the alcohol and the fact he still doesn’t have glass in his gut that makes him more brazen to act like normal around her. Especially because his first thought is “what the fuck’s in the Grounds? He has a whole ocean here.”

They can agree on that sentiment, though, that the Grounds was a horrible idea.

the flood

tell me i'm a loaded gun, tie me up and come undone
i can cover it up, i can cover it up

totally sniped from odd ilu

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

She already knew the details of this story – passed along from either Nate or rumors, the alcohol confounded and buzzed around her brain and she wasn’t really sure anymore. Preferring the latter over any quick witted or sharp remarks, she inwardly rolled her eyes at the incessant need for melodramatics. “I’m not even surprised.” At Ronin or Sunjata or Safrin. It was why the Honeybee kept to her own business in regards to the goddess – not intending any familial ties in the starry one’s radar. Or just the incessant need for the Flood to be in some foul swoon; drawn to theatrics and stupidity like a moth to a flame.

It also wouldn’t be the first time someone had asked her the very same question. “Fuck if I know,” had become the tandem response, snorting and billowing out some rage that didn’t have quite the same taste. “Probably business, and then he’ll see there’s none to be had.”

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

temporary fleeting thrills, keep me bruised and make me ill
my skin has lavender tones

Honestly, he isn’t surprised either. But it does surprise him when he snorts softly in his agreement with her – finding it easy to agree on that at the very least. And now, there weren’t any strings to tie him down. Frey didn’t care for the most part what he was up to, and Sunjata couldn’t help but to try and figure out what the fuck he was supposed to do now given that he’d only ever imagined one outcome – an outcome he never got.

So he’s thankful when the subject changes to Jack’s own plans, something else agreeable when his lips quirk into what could be considered amusement and a grimace, shaking his head. “Yeah. Would he come back to Torchline or do you think he’s too stubborn for that?” He doesn’t know if Jack would be the kind to cut his losses and return the second that he knew it wasn’t going to work out in the Grounds.

But he can’t help but to ask another question too, this one a little softer as he scans his niece. “Have you been back to the Grounds since?” He’d avoided it like it was a plague, too afraid of seeing things that weren’t the same, that might try and warp his mind into thinking that nothing between he and Nate had been real.

the flood

tell me i'm a loaded gun, tie me up and come undone
i can cover it up, i can cover it up

totally sniped from odd ilu

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

“I could see him steering it into the docks, and then turning it around immediately,” maybe before even getting to the landing portions for the Ark – coasting enough overhead that he could see the long stretch and plain of nothingness before they even bothered to head downwards. She shrugged her shoulders again, unbothered – waiting for the opportunity for a big ‘told you so’.

Her eyes narrowed speculatively, as if she was trying to parse through another stupid question, the haze of alcohol clouding and flooding her brain, or a combination of it all. “Fuck no,” she responded adequately and quickly. “What would be the point?” There was no one left there – no one she knew or cared about, and the whole land itself seemed to be begging or aching for either salvation, repose, or just be left the hell alone to fend for itself. All signs seemed to be pointing to the latter, from what she’d heard. Blinking stupidly, she thought (or tried) for a moment more, before bluntly squaring her shoulders. “Weren’t you leading it for a while?” Though, to be fair, it had probably gone to hell before that.

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

temporary fleeting thrills, keep me bruised and make me ill
my skin has lavender tones

To be honest, the initial comment Melita makes is one that does bring a snort of amusement to Sunjata, lips quirking into a small amused smile as he nods his agreement. “Then you’d get to tell him you told him so.” Because despite Sunjata losing touch with Melita and not checking in, he still did know her to an extent. He knew her enough that she’d be chomping at the bit for the moment to tell him she told him so, and a part of Sunjata wishes so badly to be there just to see what would happen.

But that’s getting too far ahead, of course, and instead changes the subject to whether she’d gone back to the Grounds since everything. Her answer is a resounding no, similar enough to Sunjata’s thoughts on the matter, and he sips from his drink in quiet agreement before her next question hits him and he winces slightly with the memory. “For a little bit, yeah.” He says softly, lowering the glass as his fingers tap idly against it, his and Nate’s wedding ring still the only jewelry adorned on his hands.

“Isla wanted to step down from it because of personal reasons… So I took over it in the interim before the war started and I moved to the Refuge. It was an agreement given that it was essentially the Ascended stronghold for a while and I had already chosen a side.” His head tilts this way and that as he explains the weird circumstances. “Tried to get the last relic when I became the leader, and after that the war basically started.” And that had been a horrible experience, being met with the force of Remi and Ronin, getting tossed into the stoney prison of Stormbreak, and realizing that once again, Remi could have killed him and yet they left him alive. But he doesn’t admit that part, instead just the important details. At least, ones he thought were important enough. “I haven’t been back either.”

the flood

tell me i'm a loaded gun, tie me up and come undone
i can cover it up, i can cover it up

totally sniped from odd ilu

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

“Oh, I’m ready,” she offered, knocking back another shot. How many had she had now? Did it matter? No – probably not. A raging hangover would already commence in the morning, and she was too forgone now to give a single shit about it. Her quip about leadership caused a smirk to twitch over her lips, as if saddled and ready to place the blame on the shitty Grounds on him. Which wasn’t true, not really, and she knew that, because that place had been horrific from the beginning, but gods, it was infuriating in a way, to see how many took on titles and then just left them behind. “Yeah, I remember the relic,” she sneered towards the glass.

She’d been there, after all, swimming about as Remi and Ronin and Darkeye and Sunjata all measured how big their dicks were. Moments of desperation, probably, given everything right before the war; the Ascendeds’ lives on the line, and barely anything for them to snag. Once upon a time, Wessex and Nate would’ve been exactly enough to combat any force of nature.

Her eyes flickered to the ground, feeling bile churn in her gut. Placing the glass down on the closest barrel, she heaved a great sigh, landed a snicker in there somewhere. “No great ambitions to make it something again?”

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

temporary fleeting thrills, keep me bruised and make me ill
my skin has lavender tones

“Good.” Sunjata murmurs, watching her slam back another shot, sure that she’s going to be really feeling the liquor as the night goes on if she keeps on like this. But it isn’t his place to say anything, so he settles with taking one more of his own as she mentions she remembers the relic.

It was an event that had Sunjata so blindsided by Remi and Ronin’s arrival that he hadn’t even noticed that Melita had been there. And if he’s honest with himself, he’d probably have done nothing different if he did know she was there — except perhaps be a bit more heartbroken that she was on that side. So it’s a good thing he doesn’t know, doesn’t recall, and instead chooses to focus on her next question.

It’s one that makes him laugh, though, shaking his head as his lips quirk into a smile. “No, no aspirations for that again.” He exhales a sigh and shakes his head again, reaching up to rub at his temple. “I don’t want to go back and see everything that’s changed. It sounds stupid but I’m worried it’ll ruin the good memories I do have there.” He shrugs and looks out over Melita’s shoulder to the party that continues to rage on.

the flood

tell me i'm a loaded gun, tie me up and come undone
i can cover it up, i can cover it up

totally sniped from odd ilu

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

Her eyes more than a little bleary now, if still dangerously narrowed for the sake of it, she could feel her stomach rumble, and blatantly began searching for a tray of food nearby. Settling for some bread, it still wouldn’t save her on tomorrow’s end but it’d appease her for now, she started breaking off great chunks as he spoke once more.

She could see him avoiding it all – but maybe more than just her own initial reasoning. While Melita and so many others had their ghosts within those horrific halls, Sunjata had multitudes and years worth of them – from Phoebe and the dumbest wedding she’d ever seen, his and Nate’s aspirations, to striving again, to it all faltering and falling around them. She half-wondered if he hadn’t escaped to the Refuge…if things would’ve been different. In one way, the Honeybee knew it didn’t matter; not now. “Hard to believe you have good memories of that hellhole at all.”

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life