Birds, bees, and booze

Tal was a champion at misconstruing tone and intention in the words of others, and he squirmed a little lower on the bench at the question. Was it a question? He wasn't sure, but he bit his lip and started to nod before pausing, dark brows pulling together in sudden worry. "Well... maybe not... not actually friends. Yet? Or, well..." He trailed off, looking down into his bottle for the answer to his uncertainty. "There's a guy who's from Halo, too. Left t'travel around. Now he's at th'House but..." The courier shrugged, realizing that he was putting the sled before the dogs. Sure, they had some things in common, and Thorn was easy on the eyes, but they'd only met once, after all. "Least, I figure maybe we could be friends... someday." And in spite of the tenor of the conversation so far, he seemed comfortable enough to mean friends in the traditional platonic sense, rather than the kind that came with other benefits.

As long as Thorn didn't live up to his name and needle Tal with so much teasing that the courier fled the courtesan's company. So why give the man any unnecessary ammunition and risk it?

When it turned out neither of them had been to Molly's, Tal scratched his nose and took a sip from his bottle; smaller this time, and slow enough to actually enjoy the taste rather than trying to get it into his system fast enough to overcome his embarrassment over the topic at hand. Hail, it had done it's job, though, and gotten him through the worst of it without Sunjata laughing at him!

"Thanks, 'Jata," he mumbled over the lip of the bottle, self-conscious in spite of the alcohol humming in his system. "I... y'know. Really 'preciate this. I know it's fuckin' weird but... yeah. Thanks."

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

He doesn’t expect his probing to be taken in a way that Tal seems self conscious about, but the Flood listens regardless – head tilting slightly as he allows his avian shift to display a bit more. The steel of his gaze grows a hint more calculating, jaw working as he thinks of who Tal’s talking about while he continues, dropping little hints here and there when it dawns on him. “Thorn?” His accented voice rumbles, assuming that’s who he’s talking about. “He could probably use some friends. He doesn’t tend to get out much.” Though whether it was because he enjoyed his job that much or he had nothing else to do, Sunjata doesn’t know, nor does he ask.

He settles though, thinking now about Molly’s and how much of a disaster it could or couldn’t be, wondering just how much flirting he’d have to do to get out of doing anything else when Talyson’s appreciation reaches him and he focuses back in on the courier with a soft snort. “Can’t say it was what I was expecting but uh, happy to help?” His lips twist in that crooked and scarred smile, snorting after.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

Thorn was pretty, and flirty, and confident, and outgoing; in short, he was lots of things that Tal wasn't, and maybe he was just kidding himself to think that the courtesan would want anything more to do with him. Maybe he had no place claiming the other man as anything remotely like a friend, even a maybe-future one, and that nervousness came through in his sudden, babbling caveats. Sunjata listened like a champ, though, and when he discerned the employee of whom Tal spoke the courier ducked his head in a bob of confirmation. "...Oh. Huh. Well... I'll keep in touch with 'im," he agreed, though he was clearly surprised to hear that the personable young man didn't have many friends.

Mother Molly's was going to take a little more courage to tackle, but with Sunjata's support to at least help him get through the front door, it seemed a lot more doable. Before the Flood had met him at the Hart, Tal had been anxiously spinning in circles, struggling with the fallout of his meddling and the consequences of his actions. Now he had a tentative plan and felt a lot less overwhelmed. His gratitude was genuine, especially given the rather uncomfortable conversation he'd just made his Archon endure.

And the alcohol in his second bottle made it easier to take a deep breath and scrunch his nose up as he made a conscious effort not to let his face fall into its usual scowl. Instead he cleared his throat and flexed his fingers around his drink, still looking down as he worked his way past his stubborn pride. Or at least, what pitiful tatters remained of it at this point in the meeting. He'd had plenty of time to think about things since their last conversation, and now he made his best effort to put those thoughts into words. "And, uh. I figure... I owe you an apology," he added, clearing his throat. "'Bout King's End, an' what y'want t'do there. I was really attached t'gettin' th'Docks built. Still am. But... well. Buildin' th' town first, if that's what y'want t'do... least I can do is lend a hand if y'still need help with it." For the sake of King's End, and working on being more of a team player.

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

Sunjata nods as Tal says he’ll keep in touch – finding that it would probably be good for the courier to have someone to talk to that isn’t simply listening just to indulge in the House of Midnight. But that’s a subject that passes with a deep hum of agreement from the Flood as he finishes his next glass, finally starting to feel a light buzzing through his veins.

It’s enough that there’s a glimmer of surprise that blooms on Sunjata’s face as his steel lifts to scan the very clearly drunk courier opposite of him. The smile that curves across his face is easy, if a bit lopsided, but the demigod shrugs lightly in order to not annoy Petronella too much. “Apology accepted.” Sunjata hums, trying to alleviate any worries that the courier might have. “I’ve got a plan for the town now at least. It’s partially why I was here.” He muses, head tilting slightly. “I’ve asked the Caretaker of the Celestine here to help, so that we don’t displace too much of the wildlife in making the town.” A thought he’s pretty sure is an important one, given how it had literally just changed from being a region in the wilds of no man’s land into a place people were choosing to live.

“Isla’s also offered her help.” And they had made quite a bit of the spaces in King’s End, a handy little group to have. “If you want, though, we could really use a more official road to get through the region, if that’s something you want to take on?” He asks, hoping that perhaps this bit of delegation will help smooth over the issue of the Skyport for the moment.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

Tal breathed a none-too-subtle sigh of relief as the Archon accepted his apology with easy grace, and gave a wobbly nod at hearing that the plans had been made and were in motion. The mention of the Celestine caused him to perk up, and Boreal rumbled approvingly from beneath the table. "Lena? Yeah, she seems like  good people," he declared, though it had been a long time since he'd seen her.

The courier's nose wrinkled with less certainty at the mention of Isla, though it was in confusion rather than disapproval. "Isla... Isla..." he mumbled into his bottle, glaring at the table in expectation that it would suddenly deliver an answer. "Um... oh! Y'mean th'Ascended lady who used t'run th'Grounds?" The... cure? Remedy? Something like that. Tal had only heard of her by reputation back before the War, and given the side he'd chosen it hadn't exactly been good. He hadn't heard anything about her since, however, and if Sunjata vouched for her, well... it was kind of like Ru vouching for her, right?

Distracted by the offer of a task, he didn't get a chance to ask about her further as Sunjata's request required the use of all the brain cells that weren't swimming in alcohol. The courier's brow furrowed and he chewed his lip in consideration. "Well... I dunno much about roads," he admitted slowly. "Dogsleds an' skyships, sure. If it's snow or wind I'm your man. Stuff with wheels... not so much." He tapped his finger against the bottle, the tone indicating that it was mostly empty by now and he frowned down at it, teetering on a scowl in spite of his earlier intentions. "Um. I mean... I c'n try? Since I'm guessin' y'don't want my help on th'town after I stuck my boot in my mouth." Spoken with the blunt insight of the inebriated, and a glum resignation that in spite of the accepted apology he really had screwed things up again.

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

“She was really nice.” Sunjata confirms with a soft hum, thinking back on the snowball company and how Mittens was absolutely definitely not nice. A thought that has him reaching up to scratch at Petronella’s shoulder again while Tal tries to figure out who Isla is. And while, yes, it was correct, she was also so much more. “Yeah. She also helped me build the House of Midnight.” He offers, before he looks down at his empty glass with a glimmer of sorrow – only briefly, before he masks it up. “And she saved my life on multiple occasions.” And he’d broken her heart at the end of it all anyway.

But they were still friends. She said she would still help. And it keeps him from delving too far into old ways. That and having Ru back home in the house he’d built for them.

His gaze snaps up at the question, though, his scarred brow rising as he snorts lightly and shakes his head. “It’s not because you stuck your boot in your mouth.” Sunjata shrugs, eliciting a mewl from Petronella. “I’ve already got the people I need for it. Lena for the animals, and Isla because we make a great team.” He exhales a soft sigh. “I don’t imagine it’ll be that different from making paths for dogsleds. Just need to be flatter and wider, probably.” Unfamiliar with dogsledding and any activities in snow that he is, Sunjata can only guess.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

The courier wasn't quite sure what to think about a former-Ascended helping to build King's End's premier brothel, but at least talk of being a life saver earned a respectful bob of his head for the busy Outlander lady. The flicker of sadness in Sunjata's expression had Tal opening his mouth--

But it was gone before he could figure out how to phrase his question, and he subsided as the moment passed and Sunjata looked fine again. Maybe he'd just imagined it?

Three people sounded like not enough for building a whole-ass town, but even inebriated Tal knew better than to argue after he'd just managed to put together an apology for the last time. He stopped his argument in its tracks by draining the last of the booze from his pretty blue bottle, though at Sunjata's assumption he gave the Archon a snort. "Y'make a dogsled trail mostly by runnin' lots o' sleds o'er th'same path lots o' times," he explained. "But we got so much fresh snow in Halo all th'time, there wasn't much point. Mostly I ran my sleds without trails." He heaved a sigh, pushing his empty bottle towards the center of the table. "But I'll see what I c'n do." Even a shitty road was better than no road at all, right? So it wouldn't matter how badly he might fuck it up; at least it would be better than it had been before.

Wriggling his other foot free from his dragon (much to Boreal's disapproval), Tal slid out of the bench and stood up slowly to stretch. "I'm gonna head t'Molly's," he announced, the pronouncement earning some chuckles and a few catcalls from those sitting at the nearest tables. After another moment of hard thought an evil grin spread across the courier's face as he looked back at Sunjata. "Just gotta make a quick stop on th'way..."

Did he need a disguise for going into the brothel? Hardly. But why pass up the opportunity to play a trick on his best frenemy?

// dance me through the panic 'til i'm gathered safely in
lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove //

Well, there was another little known fact (at least he assumes Tal doesn’t know), that Sunjata had taken up leadership of the Grounds before the war – briefly, of course, but he had been a part of that last relic fight – the last stand in Stormbreak, one that had him nearly drowning again only to wake in the prison of the Judgement’s Needle.

Lucky to be released, given that the Refuge hadn’t been completed yet, and the necessity of finishing the quest outweighed whatever Sunjata had done.

But that was all in the past now, and he slips that mask back into place, letting the burn of the booze spread through him even if it wouldn’t do that much. “Some gravel and stones perhaps to give an idea of where the road leads might be a good starting point. Not that different I imagine, only with the benefit of not having new snow to cover it up.” Sunjata points out, flashing Tal a small smile – confident that the courier could do that. Besides, it wasn’t like he wasn’t familiar with roads. Of course, the second the Peregrine landed, Tal had to go by foot. So surely he’d figure out a way to get it to come together.

Either way, Tal stands and Sunjata watches, listening as the whistles and catcalls spark up through the bar. He snorts, shifting to slip out of his own seat, drawing to his full height as Petronella mewls at a table nearby curiously while the Flood is distracted by the grin that spreads. “Should I meet you there, then?” He asks, raising a brow curiously.

dance me to the end of love

SUNJATA

Tal's grasp of the politics in other regions leading up to the War was spotty at best. His focus had largely been in Halo, and before the Peregrine he'd struggled to reach the Grounds for deliveries. He had, indeed, been unaware of the Flood's stint as ruler there; he'd only heard fragments of his Governorship of Torchline, and that had been a rocky enough tale.

But that could be a conversation for another day, and perhaps a different bar. Instead he was distracted by talk of building roads, which wasn't exactly exciting. Tal didn't have a good enough poker face to pretend to be gracious about the milksop he was being thrown, but his guilt over arguing about the town was enough to make him accept it, taking Sunjata's advice with a glum nod of acknowledgment.

There was no point in dwelling on it, though. He'd tackle that bri--er, road when he got back to King's End. For now, they were in Stormbreak and he had a quest for Frey to prepare for. And the opportunity for mischief raised his spirits significantly. "Sure! I'm gonna grab a quick disguise an' then I'll be there!" He might have been drunk but the courier was no stranger to that state, and his steps were surprisingly steady as he headed out the door, whistling a jaunty little tune. Boreal wriggled out from under the table and gave herself a good shake to settle her wings. She butted her head under Sunjata's hand, chuffed a cheerful farewell to Petronella, and followed in her companion's wake.

~Fin~