Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
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It had taken time for Safrin to decide on an appropriate way of moving forward when it came to Ronin. Her actions would be scrutinized certainly, and while that was of little concern, what did keep her up at night—metaphorically speaking—was how the Nova might twist the situation to turn the tides of favour against her. Now that she’d seen how he’d reacted to her pulling away—with anger and bitterness rather than an aim to force himself back into her good graces as she’d hoped—she knew she had to pick her next steps carefully.
And so she had.
Up above the world the goddess reclined upon a cloud, her galactic gaze set upon a particular house-boat shaped pool of light far down in the Arclight. Given that she didn’t expect Ronin to willingly rise to her summons, still she wanted to offer him a choice.
The semblance of one, anyway.
Ronin…
In the darkness, a small star-lit portal would appear next to the Nova’s bed.
Blinking himself awake in the twilight of the houseboat, Ronin's brow furrows at the sight of the portal. For a second he does little more than clutch Remi closer, having been blissfully wrapped up in his husband to snooze the night away. But when the gods come knocking, there's no real way to say no.
(Not in a way that would allow him to walk away intact, anyway).
With a soft kiss pressed to the underside of the Bastion's jaw, Ronin peels himself out of bed and takes a slow, deep breath, before stepping in through the starlit portal.
He will appear before Safrin with dark hair made unruly by sleep, in a pair of tartan pajama pants and little else. Tattooed, scarred and marked by both the goddess and by life in general, it isn't the time of night that makes him seem tired, but everything else.
"Hello to you, too." With a raised eyebrow, Safrin's gaze slips over Ronin with scrutiny as much as surprise. It would have been unwise of him to ignore her call, but then, when had any of the Taliesin's been known for their wisdom?
Clearing her throat, Safrin adjusts the hem of her lace gown just so, before folding her hands elegantly across one knee. “I had an idea.” She begins, her tone suggesting that what followed would be a conversation despite everything else about her suggesting quite the opposite.
“Given that we both care about Seren and that you are currently…without purpose, I thought perhaps you might invest yourself in helping her become all that she can be.” A reasonable suggestion, on the face of it, surely.
The time where Ronin would have adjusted his words and tone is long gone, and he gives the goddess before him little more than an expectant look, waiting for the hammer to inevitably fall. "Do tell," he murmurs, of her idea, and whilst his blue eyes sharpen and his jaw feathers at the mere implication of being without purpose, mention of their daughter successfully holds his tongue.
Inhaling a slow breath and letting it out again, he straightens up a fraction and bows his head in a gentle nod. "It would be an honour to do it," he says - and it's the truth. For all else that has happened, he does love Seren, and he would see her become all she's meant to be in Caido. And if he can help with that, of course he'll commit to it.
Ah. If you'd doubted whether or not Ronin was wise—whether he was capable of learning from past mistakes—one need only look at the way he's willingly walked right into the trap set out for him. How he bows his head as the noose is tightened.
"I'm glad to hear it." Safrin says, triumphant and jaded. "Every step forward will be because you have helped her get there. A level step forward for her will mean a step level back for you, but you would do anything for your children, isn't that so?" She smiles. "You might have received the gift of immortality, but...we are always meant to pave the way for our children but to ultimately let them go ahead of us." Safrin pauses, her eyes willing the Nova to offer some argument.
And there's the rub, ultimately - regardless of how many mistakes he's made or how much he might have learned, when his children are involved, Ronin will put the noose around his neck ten times over before seeing them come to harm. Never had he expected Safrin to use their daughter in this way, though, and the pale shock on his face says as much. Swallowing hard - because there is no argument, and she knows it - the Nova feels himself grow cold from the tips of his ears down to the soles of his feet.
"That is the way of the world," he agrees softly, his mouth dry. "...And when there are no more steps back for me to take...?" He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear it from her starlit lips. His throat tightens around the prospect, but if the choice is between self-preservation and letting his daughter flourish and grow... well, there is no real choice at all.
Distantly he wonders how he'll tell all of this to Remi, how their life will look when he's been stripped back to the bones of the man he once was.
One word, yet it carries the weight of a hammer striking an anvil. The sound of a sapling bending under the weight of the earth. The silence after a thunderous roar.
Herald and Demigod will watch as the clouds twist and shift to reveal the God of Life, his hands clasped in front of him.
“This has gone too far.” Disappointment is evident in his voice. He glances briefly at Ronin before turning his full attention back to his herald.
“I should have intervened sooner, but I was preoccupied with other matters and I foolishly believed that we had moved past this."
04-21-2024, 11:43 AM (This post was last modified: 04-21-2024, 11:43 AM by Safrin.)
Safrin
If ever the curtain between the two had been properly tossed away, it was being done now. Where some might have a glimpse at the lengths Safrin would go to keep those she coveted at her side, none in living memory would have so clear a view as Ronin did just now.
"By then I hope you will be able to look back and agree that you have lived a good life, for you've had one more than most." She says with a careless sort of shrug. If she couldn't have him, she would squeeze every last ounce of love he possessed into Seren, and when he was on more than a broken tinker toy soldier? Well. There would be others.
There already were.
Before she could articulate anything else which might follow, the cosmos shrinks and snaps, and where it is stitched anew, Vi has appeared.
"Wh—" She begins, cheeks flushing meteoric red. "No, it isn't like that. He's agreed." She quickly stammers, shaking her head.
Clenching his jaw hard enough to make his teeth creak, of course Ronin would agree, and he knows Safrin knows it. With fists clenched hard enough to leave small crescents in his palms, he squares his shoulders against what will surely be considered the swan-song of his life. One last burst of effort, a boost to get Seren airborne and let her take flight, before he fades to nothing.
It's how it should be. He agrees. It's done.
And so, with his gaze fixed on the clouds below them, Ronin doesn't notice the God of Life's appearance - and how embarrassing, when he realises - until Safrin's name hits the air. Visibly flinching, as if struck by something that goes beyond sight and sound, the Nova has been in Vi's presence only once before, and back then he had been among others.
Here and now, between herald and deity... gods, he has never felt so small.
Wisely, perhaps, biting his tongue, he isn't sure where to look or how to proceed, feeling as if he's witness to something he really ought not to be seeing.
“Do not test my patience with your games,” Vi's voice was low and dangerous, his eyes narrowing in warning as he addressed his herald. The lines on his face were etched deep with frustration and anger, the weight of the world resting heavily on his shoulders.
“Tell me of Vanya, Safrin. Tell me what she agreed to. Tell me of your games with Ludo. Tell me that your focus has not been on these childish games instead of the threat to our world. Tell me that you have not wasted mine and Mort’s time with this foolishness, if you would tell me anything at all.” His voice was hard and unwavering, a god who would brook no further excuses or distractions from his herald.
Tilting her chin, where Safrin might have cowed immediately or at least appealed to Vi's more nurturing side, with Ronin present the goddess's hand felt forced. Lifting her chin, she swallowed haughtily, shaking her head with the sort of smile that said Vi had it all wrong. "There have..." Clearing her throat, she tries again. "Things have been complicated. Things I wouldn't bother you with. Things I had under control."
There was an explanation for all of it. Even Vanya.
Glancing at Ronin, pleadingly at first before realizing she'd forgotten herself, Safrin's gaze hardens as she looks defiantly back to Vi. "I will apologize to Mort that he had to intervene with Vanya, but Ronin...he is mine to do with what I will."
Perhaps in any other circumstance, Ronin would have responded positively to the pleading look thrown his way by the goddess of the stars. But to hear Vanya's name - not just from Safrin's lips, but from Vi's - has the Supernova almost incandescent with emotions he can't name. Fury, guilt, shame, sadness - they roll together and burst out of him in unsteady waves of starlight. For all that he can't speak on Safrin's behalf, his opinions are nonetheless apparent.
"Is she out of the stars now? Is she with Mort, where she should be?" Only once the words have left his lips does he realise he's spoken well out of turn, and it's with a wince that he lowers his gaze again away from the God of Life. "I'm sorry."
“No.” Vi's voice was like steel, sharp and unyielding as he stared at Safrin. "No," he stated again, firmly. "Now he is mine," the God declared, dismissing Safrin with a wave of his hand. She disappeared in a flurry of shimmering star sparks that quickly scattered into the night sky before she could further argue her point.
The God studied the Supernova for a long moment, his piercing gaze taking in the scars on his soul and the remnants of his being. Time seemed to slow as he assessed the Supernova, and eventually he blinked, straightened, and nodded. "There is still too much to do to free you completely of your obligations." he explained. "But under my service, things will never be 'complicated'." No love affairs. No children. No gray areas. For Vi, there was only the fight for what was good and right; everything else faded into insignificance.
Despite the fact that Ronin was still bound in indentured servitude, it was clear to Vi that serving had never been a burden for the Nova. His soul shone with a sense of purpose and dedication, unaffected by the pain or threat of death that may have deterred others. With unflinching determination, he had continued on his path without hesitation or complaint. Hopefully now freed of Safrin’s ‘complications’, he could continue to do just that.
“Mort has seen to Vanya. She has been reunited with Aoife and the rest of your family in his halls.”
Vi speaks; Safrin disappears, and Ronin is left feeling metaphorically slapped around the mouth. He's suddenly and painfully aware that he's standing in his fucking pajamas around the literal God of Life - and that said god has just declared a change in his allegiance that feels unreal, caught in his throat like a laugh or a scream. He can do little more than gape at the deity, remembering himself with a soft clack of teeth as he picks his jaw up off the floor.
"I..." One of many false starts that has him clearing his throat and running his fingers self-consciously through his dark hair. "I swear I am better at this, normally." You know. Talking, being a person, all that jazz.
"Thank you," he manages at last. Not for himself, not for being released from under Safrin's yoke, but for Vanya, for Aoife, for a peace that he's been trying to find for years. "Thank you so much."
Glancing around as if expecting Safrin to reappear at any moment, he can't help but bite at the inside of his cheek. "What would you have of me?" he asks, which is a poor substitute for what he almost says: she is going to be very angry.
He supposes it doesn't matter, though, when Vi can lift the thoughts from his head as if it's nothing.
