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+---- Thread: [SE] all the choirs in my head (/showthread.php?tid=11248)
all the choirs in my head - Maea - 05-01-2025
Occasionally, a detour brought you to places you didn't know you needed to see. In the Greatwood, the forest lent a helping hand by whisking you this way or that, spitting you out on a path often or never traveled. Here, in the jungles of the Oerwoud, it took some intent to get truly lost. Once she had denied herself the wings, the keen senses of tiger and feirwe and any sense for direction acquired over years spent traveling the length and breadth of Caido, her feet did the rest. Following waterways upstream to their sources, ducking onto trails made by wild things and occasionally choosing to take the difficult path gradually brought Maea higher into the mountains. A dense heat kept her comfortable despite the way damp caused her clothes cling to the skin. Upon reaching a certain elevation, mist began to close in around her - clouds, really, thin yet dangerous enough to almost see her walking off a cliff at one point - and forced her to slow down.
How tempting it was, to take shortcuts. Just knowing that she could shift and merely fly away instilled a certain cockiness that she didn't approve of in herself, like having wings would solve all her problems. Sure, if she wanted to keep running for the rest of her life they might... but she did not. She'd sworn time and time again that she was done with that, and the realization that all her posturing around Asta stemmed from plain old fear of change was not only deeply humbling but intensely infuriating. Ruminating over it wasn't helping. Writing and discarding letters of apology didn't do anything either - she'd already done that, it simply wasn't sincere enough. Jumping in bed with someone just to prove that she could be chaotic was only posturing, more lies and deception - because she didn't actually want to do that. It wouldn't prove anything, it wouldn't show her anything that she didn't already know.
Fumbling blindly for some epiphany, something honest that she could embrace that she hadn't tried or allowed herself before, her feet took her along a narrow path that showed signs of recent activity. Varying sets of footprints, some feline, others herbivorous, suggested there was a wealth of prey nearby - and it had to be said, she very rarely let herself indulge in the hunt. Sometimes, sure, by accident. But like the times when the bloodbane drew out the darker shades of her personality, the rare instants had always been accompanied by guilt, self-loathing and a barrage of self-deprecation - all suppressing what so many of the other ancients seemed to be entirely comfortable with.
Was that it, then? The first step, the beginning of this quest she had set for herself? Look into the darkness. Properly face what frightened her. No more running, or hiding, or pretending. What had that book said... to 'sit with her emotions'? That's what she needed.
And to do that... she would need to find a target to practice on. Picking a set of prints at random, Maea swallowed back a half-panicked reluctance, realized that was the opposite of what she should do, paused on the very edge of a cliff with mist swirling in the void just past her right shoulder and breathed. In, and out. In, and out. Counting seconds, until her fists unclenched on their own, and she could see the ground again.
[say]"It's alright,"[/say] she told herself out loud, and took a step forward. [say]"It's not dangerous. Just feelings... they won't kill you."[/say] Though it sure felt like it, by the third or fourth time she had to stop and breathe. If she caught up with anything edible at this pace, it would be nothing short of a miracle.
RE: all the choirs in my head - Sunjata - 05-01-2025
For one predator, there was always a bigger one. And while Maea has been trailing the feline and the herbivore tracks, Sunjata has been hunting them himself as well. Unaware of her down below the tree tops, he can see from above and the paths chosen from the edges of the cliffs just where the tiger he’s been chasing has decided to go. For Maea, it’s likely quiet on all fronts. For Sunjata, he’s locked.
As she approaches the edge of the cliff, Sunjata has broken the clouds and the mist that have overtaken the incredibly humid jungle, and dives down in his draconic shift. Black scales gleam sharply, the wind of his approach scented with ozone and pollen as it blows back toward the pale Ancient, and just below the edge of the cliff if she looked down, she’d spot him snatching a tiger that had yet to make its way into cover.
He rises, the orange and black tiger between his jaws as he circles and flies up from where Maea stands, breaking the surface and flying above the trees to search for a clearing nearby. Having found it, there’s the echo of the landing that breaks through the clearing, able to guide her toward where he is if she so chose to follow it.
RE: all the choirs in my head - Maea - 05-02-2025
It was the wind whistling over membranous wings that alerted her to the presence of something else nearby. It was familiar, somehow, yet she couldn't place it for the longest time. The volume was too different, more like a rumble of distant thunder than the drumming push against her eardrums she had come to associate with Thalassa in flight. Whatever this was, it was bigger.
Casting a thoughtful glance over the edge of the cliff, she only slowly registered the dark shape for what it was. When the dragon broke through the mist and shot past her with some bloody and dying thing in its claws the impact was like nothing Maea had felt before. Save possibly in the presence of gods. Never before had she seen a full-sized dragon this close. Awestruck and thoroughly distracted from her internal struggles, impulse threw caution to the wind. Shifting into a gore crow she tore after the dragon, wanting – no needing - to see it again, from up close. Possibly that was the least intelligent decision she had ever made in any iteration of her life, but in that moment, she didn't care.
Descending after it, she saw the dragon search for a place to land and danced on the turbulent air currents generated by those massive wings. It was so big! (that's what she said), and so utterly unconcerned with anything but its own business that she didn't even worry about being noticed.
Possibly it was a touch fatalistic, but Maea had died enough times to know that if this thing wanted her gone, she wouldn't even have time to notice before she was back in Mort's Halls.
RE: all the choirs in my head - Sunjata - 05-03-2025
A crow is the last thing on Sunjata’s mind as he lands with a loud thud and tears into the tiger, his dragon shift making quick work of the majority of the more delicious portions of it. Devouring and leaving just enough for the scavengers of the area to indulge in, it takes a decent amount of time before the dragon is stepping back, lowering itself to the ground to brush his maw against the foliage nearby, hoping to clear off most of the blood.
And when he seems satisfied, he shifts back into himself, knelt in the clearing with the tiger a fair distance from him, the dragon wings smaller now and tucked in against his back, water glittering through the low light that casts through the trees as he summons it to finish washing up, effectively dousing himself in water before he leeches it out with his magic to spread it across the bloodied bush he’d used as a dragon to clear the majority of it off.
Still unaware and uncaring of what or who might be around him.
RE: all the choirs in my head - Maea - 05-04-2025
She might have been the first of those scavengers, had the dragon not dissolved into a much too familiar figure. Hunger suddenly warred not only with her own fears but with the awkwardness of being around her ex, no matter that any ill feelings had become as dust before the wind as years passed. It spoke volumes that she felt neither resentment, regret or longing upon seeing Sunjata - only hesitation, as the times when she'd been free to be vulnerable around him were long gone.
He paid no attention to her, however. Perhaps he didn't know about her shift, or didn't care even if he did. Maea hoped that was the case. The shield of anonymity emboldened her enough to come circling down towards the carcass, allowed her to set aside concerns about anything save the scuffle and contention as she fought for scraps with other corvids, with vultures and what other small scavengers that emerged now that the dragon was gone. Small enough to delve into the ribcage, she felt surprisingly little about consuming something that looked like her own shift. All that mattered was the straps of meat and organ she could peck away, and the building satiety in her gut.
There was still plenty of meat to go around. Once she'd had her fill, it was her turn to break away from the carcass. Without thinking she shifted back into her ancient form, face streaked with blood and gore as she headed for the water to wash up. Wiping crimson off her cheeks, she licked her fingers with a shudder of pleasure – and froze, realizing how unhinged she must look.
Ironically, she'd had nothing to say about what the Flood had been doing, only herself; caught being indulgent, unkempt, out of control...
Color rose in her cheeks, the deeply embarrassed flush of uncertainty, teetering on the edge between anger and shame.
RE: all the choirs in my head - Sunjata - 05-05-2025
There’s enough distance between him and the carcass that when Maea’s shift descends he isn’t close enough to witness any telltale signs that this might be an ancient or attuned, so he continues to busy himself with cleaning up into some form of being presentable, leaving the water out for any of the scavengers to find some amount of clean water they could use to sip from or clean up.
By the time Maea’s done, Sunjata’s standing, already dried and scarred hands brushing away any leaves left behind on his shirt from the trek here, when he notices the crow becomes woman – and not just any woman, but Maea herself. Steel eyes snap to her almost immediately, uncaring how unhinged she looked or the blood clinging to her skin that she washes away in the water he’s conjured. “[say]You good, Maea?[/say]” He calls out in greeting, a scarred brow lifting – because yes, he does see the color in her cheeks and he can’t figure out why she seems so ashamed by it.
RE: all the choirs in my head - Maea - 05-06-2025
Gods, but wasn't that a question for the ages? Fighting a quick but intense battle within herself between lying, telling the whole truth or just walking away in shame rather than admit she'd gotten nowhere since they spoke on a windswept shore several years ago, she eventually just shrugged. Because honestly, who even knew what was good or how to feel it, be it – especially when one felt as perpetually out of place as she did.
[say]"Fine, I guess. I didn't realise it was you,"[/say] she grumbled while wiping at her face with a sleeve in a petulant gesture, entirely too self-conscious to be graceful. [say]"Thought it was a real dragon."[/say] Something wild and inhuman around whom propriety and sentiment could be discarded. With Sunjata... pride got involved, she admitted to herself. Being caught as anything but cool, collected and in control was humiliating, all the more so considering she never managed to maintain it.
Maea hesitated, then figured it was pointless to pretend like she was too busy to be polite. [say]"How've you been?"[/say]
RE: all the choirs in my head - Sunjata - 05-07-2025
He very nearly asks her how many black dragons were often in the Oerwoud - or if she hadn’t recognized the jagged scar along one of his wings, deep and pale and biting. But he realizes shortly after that she hadn’t been around for that part of his story - when his father had broken his wing here, among the jungle, only to have to have it set and fixed where only little bits of magic could help heal it.
So he opts for the more polite version of it, nodding and offering her a crooked smile, made lopsided by the healed yet dark and somewhat puckered scar that bisects the left side of his cheek. “[say]I usually give into my shifts if I’m in them. Easier to give the dragon what it wants than try to take control.[/say]” He shrugs his tattooed shoulders casually, uncaring how presentable Maea tried to be around him.
“[say]I'm good. Now, at least. Not infected anymore, so… That’s been nice. Makes going to Starfall fuckin’ shitty, though.[/say]” His nose wrinkles, his lightning scarred hand lifting to run through his hair, flecked with more silver than Maea likely could recall, as he exhales a sigh. “[say]You?[/say]”
RE: all the choirs in my head - Maea - 05-07-2025
It was a long time since she stopped keeping track of what passed in his life. Maybe it would have been different if the war hadn't happened, if they had kept talking things through and found the way back to the friendship they'd started out with. But Nate died and she turned to stone, and now so many years had passed that she didn't feel like she knew Sunjata anymore. If she ever actually had; their fallout suggested a lot of wishful thinking had been involved on both sides.
[say]"You don't care about the consequences?"[/say] she wondered, grimacing lightly at the thought of letting her own shifts run amok. [say]"What if people get in the way, get hurt..?"[/say] It sounded reckless to her ears, who had never had a good relationship with control or the lack of it.
Shrugging as the question rebounded on her, Maea hesitated. Unsure what to say, if anything. [say]"Oh, you know... same old. Trying to be useful, failing spectacularly, trying to mend fences, making it worse..."[/say] She didn't mean to sound bitter, because it was just her reality at this point. But she looked tired, more so than she realized or would ever have admitted on her own. [say]"I left the Grounds, though, and I'm doing what I can to break some bad patterns. Not sure how it's going yet."[/say]
RE: all the choirs in my head - Sunjata - 05-07-2025
“[say]Consequences?[/say]” Sunjata asks, raising a brow to hear the question – because why on earth would someone jump in actively if a predator was zeroing in on its prey? “[say]It’d have to be someone pretty dumb to get between a dragon and its prey.[/say]” He says before wincing slightly at the tone that’s left him. “[say]What I mean is that nobody does get in the way. They just fuck off I guess?[/say]” His accented voice hums out, softer this time. He’d never seen anyone stick around when he’d found what he was searching for in any one of his predator shifts.
So to be honest? It wasn’t even something he was concerned about. If they were stupid enough to stick around and try to change the outcome, that was on them as far as Sunjata was concerned.
As for how she’s been, Sunjata gives her a cursory look over – subtle, but his steel gaze scans all the changes and differences in her over the years. “[say]You want some help?[/say]” He asks, allocating that olive branch as he did before when they’d trained in King’s End. This time, its sent again, whether she wanted to talk about it or not.
RE: all the choirs in my head - Maea - 05-08-2025
She tensed at the tone, back stiffening at the unspoken implication that she was stupid for even considering that some people really might be that brave, or foolish, depending on ones level of empathy. It sounded so haughty in her ears, like he had no responsibility to be careful even in a shift like the dragon - and even when Sunjata ameliorated his tone, her expression remained doubtful, though she managed to bite her tongue and remain quiet. It was there again, that bubbling anxiety in her gut that demanded she keep her head down and not make waves. If she had a dragon's form to utilise... she had to wonder if she ever would. Fearing the kind of mistakes she might make, the fallout of taking someone's cattle, hurting someone's fields, or family, of doing harm that could never be undone... How did he live with that deadly potential coiled against his spine?
The offer to help caught Maea off guard, and she turned wide lavender eyes on the Flood. Her expression warmed several degrees, softening into something close to what he might have been allowed to see all those years ago. She hadn't changed much. Frozen in time by ascendancy and petrification, time had done little to carve its passage into her body. It was only her eyes that differed; the weight of experiences behind her glances, and that weariness - because few of them had been positive or worth taking pride in.
[say]"That's a kind offer, and I appreciate it,"[/say] Maea replied. [say]"I would accept, but... I'm just not sure what you - or anyone - can do? Most of my issues come down to emotions and my need for control..."[/say] Was it not her own job to figure out how to manage those? It was an olive branch she didn't know how to accept, though surprisingly, the will was there.
RE: all the choirs in my head - Sunjata - 05-08-2025
He lives with it easily. The same way that a farmer protects its chicken coop against the occasional hawk and coyote, so too do the people of Cairo protect against the occasional dragon. It would always be a possibility, but he wasn’t going to worry about whatever consequences might stem from the occasional creature Sunjata plucked for a meal that day, when he’d been so distraught after Nate’s death that he physically couldn’t eat himself. His shifts forced him to, and it’s the only reason he hadn’t wasted away.
He doesn’t mourn for the ants beneath his feet that couldn’t get out of the way too soon.
It was life. Life was difficult and hard. It’s how it is.
He meets her wide lavender gaze with an easy and curious glimmer of steel, watching as she replies with the very same hesitancy she had nearly a decade ago - where it felt like he had to pull it out of her if only to hear her say it. “[say]I mean… You’ve always had that issue with control though. I remember you with your magic at the VlamVloed.[/say]” He murmurs, stepping a touch closer to her and off to the side to take a seat on an outcrop of a rock, tilting his head toward her. “[say]So what’s going on?[/say]”
RE: all the choirs in my head - Maea - 05-09-2025
It was an episode she'd nearly managed to forget. Thhat Sunjata brought it up again had her grimace uncomfortably, with a frustrated nod - it was reluctant, but she really had to admit that she was still stuck in that same mindset as back then.
[say]"Well, nothing has really changed. I'm still holding on so tightly to things that they either break or end up exploding in my face."[/say]
Stilling for a breathless moment as Sunjata came closer, she released an inaudible sigh of relief when it turned out he was just moving past. Mad at herself for the reactions he still coaxed from her even adter all these years, Maea slumped down to sit crosslegged on the ground by his feet. Like a student who was lagging behind in her studies, and now needed extra lessons. It wasn't so much that she was reluctant to talk to Sunjata about what bothered her – it was simply difficult to find the words, to translate a feeling so that it made sense to someone on the outside.
[say]"What's going on is that I'm scared,"[/say] she eventually said, slow and careful in the way of one who had to make double sure she was saying it right. [say]"Of losing people, getting hurt, of being turned into something I can't stand to live with... and though I've realised that I need to face those fears, if I'm to change anything, I don't know how. No matter how much I want to, I can't just shut them off. I've hurt so many people by trying to keep them at arm's length or by projecting my fears onto them – yet even so it's so hard to trust... anything. Especially myself."[/say]
Pulling at the grass before her, Maea's emotions ebbed and flowed like the ocean tide. Always too deep, too strong, or too shallow - not deep enough - so that she either drowned in them or wondered where they'd gone. They ruled her, and she fought them, terrified of the rocks she might break upon, just as she was afraid to be swept out to sea and never return. Whatever vessel of faith had kept her floating until now was battered and taking in water; and it was with a desperate sort of intensity that she now emptied buckets over the railing. Like she could outpace all the leaks if she just worked hard enough.
RE: all the choirs in my head - Sunjata - 05-10-2025
He almost asks her why she is still holding on just as tight if she already knows the results, but he doesn’t. He lets her decide how much she wants to share as he gets comfortable, finding that rock to prop himself up onto, arms folding around one of his knees as she slumps down and sits and he watches her for a few moments as she explains exactly all of the things he’d been terrified about once upon a time.
“[say]Yeah.[/say]” He says quietly, looking away from her as he considers how best to put what he wants to say. He’d always been terrible with words, but he hopes maybe she’d be able to read between the lines if she did really want to change. “[say]I was afraid for a long time to lose people. You know that. I didn’t hardly make it after Nate fell in the war.[/say]” He offers it up, easier now because it’s been years and while the wound is still there – hell, he still wears their wedding ring, and would continue to even after his eventual marriage to Hotaru. “[say]But you can’t change people, either.[/say]” The tone of his voice is just tired, his head angling back toward her where she sits in the grass, a lifetime away from one of their last arguments.
“[say]You tried to change me once. Didn’t work. Then you died which really was a cherry on top after Luci. Thought I was cursed.[/say]” Luci, Maea, Nate.. The list goes on and each time he fractured more and more under the weight of it. “[say]Fucked me up so much that I had a daughter with Safrin just to try and prevent him dying in the war.[/say]” Of course, that was before he’d gone and betrayed Safrin. But his broad, tattooed shoulders shrug and he exhales a puff of air, lacking the smoke that he silently wishes he had. Perhaps Maea might remember the wariness he had with the idea of being a father, of becoming just like his own because he couldn't trust himself then to be a good person.
“[say]I’m not the same person I was when I arrived. I had to adapt and go with the flow because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t still be here.[/say]” If he let the fears of becoming his father overwhelm him from taking leadership roles, or becoming a father, he doesn’t know what he’d do. But he’d become one of the strongest amongst them here in Caido, chosen by Frey, given opportunity to indulge in who he is without remorse, and he can’t afford to revert back to how he was. “[say]Change is scary, y’know? But you have to do it yourself. We all do. Nobody gets to do it for you.[/say]”