[SE] all the choirs in my head

Maea

Stars, hide your fires

Strange, how a hand could be both intimately familiar and completely foreign at the same time. Was it he who had changed, so that no lingering heat or passion fouled the promise of new beginnings, or was she the one who simply had forgotten everything but the extremes of their past - the intense pleasure, the rending pain, and erased everything in between? Perhaps it was simply the passage of time that had altered the shape of both of them, so that two puzzle pieces that never quite fit now suddenly did - but differently, revealing a picture that had not been clear before.

The warmth of both handshake and promise lingered as Maea settled back to listen. The hint of a smile lingered in the corners of her mouth even as the topic of conversation took a somber turn; suggeting a lightness of spirit that hadn't been present in her for years beyond counting.
"So, you were infected when I hosted that meeting?" she asked, eyes widening with a sudden understanding. Sure, Sunjata had always been smooth and a charmer, but the ease with which he'd dealt with Dahlia when everyone else sat frozen had chafed at her. "What... what is it like? Being infected? The aftermath seem pretty awful, if you can't even look at each other. It's that bad?"

Let not light see my black and deep desires

SUNJATA

look who's digging their own grave
this is what they all say; you'll drink yourself to death

Nodding to her question, he puffs his cheeks out with the sigh that follows. “Yup.” Purple, through and through. And maybe that’s partly why his quick thinking had helped Dahlia not escalate the situation. But, he knows, infected or not, he’d still have done the same thing. “I would’ve done the same even if I weren’t infected, though. Might’ve been more worried about it if I wasn’t, admittedly.” His nose wrinkles a little with the recollection, before he’s shaking his head and tilting his storm cloud eyes over toward the pale Ancient.

“Being infected is… Nice. I hate to say it.” His frown tugs awkwardly on the portion of his face where the muscle had been destroyed by the scar that runs through it, but it only seems to make it that much harsher in the Oerwoud’s light. “You don’t worry about anything, all the void shit leaves you alone. After, though? You can see their true faces. You can see who’s infected and even those that are cured still have this like.. echo about them? It goes away but you gotta be brave enough to look long enough for it to disappear in the first place.” His tattooed shoulders shrug, thinking about it briefly yet long enough to grant an almost far away, glazed gleam to his gaze.

look who makes their own bed, lies right down within it
and what will you have left?

Maea

Stars, hide your fires

Her mouth quirked in a half smile, expecting no less from him, no matter how uncomfortable it made her. Much as she wanted to think she would respond differently in the same situation if it happened now, Maea suspected that she still would try to stand her ground. Though she could better see the point of playing a long game against an opponent, it wasn't really in her nature to be wily and deceptive.
"Mmh, well, good thing one of us know how to play that kind of game," she murmured, and left it at that.

Plucking strands of grass, she worked them into a braid while taking in Sunjata's answers. "Hence, the difficulty of looking at each other. I see." Chewing on her lip, she frowned at the braid. "Do you remember how you got infected in the first place?" There was something horrific about it in what he described that went beyond the usual unsettling aura she associated with the Void. The idea of being subjected to something so intrusive, then not even wanting to be cured had the hairs of her neck stand on end. It was like all of her worst fears come true, and firmly choked out any and all nations she'd ever harbored of pulling a stunt like Flora's.

Let not light see my black and deep desires

SUNJATA

look who's digging their own grave
this is what they all say; you'll drink yourself to death

He was good at it. It was a game he’d constantly grown up playing. So, to slip back into that mask, infected or not, was like slipping on a well-worn suit. The shoulders wore out just enough to be comfortable around the broadness of the Flood’s. The fabric is softer because it had been well loved and used. It was the easiest fall back that Sunjata had. And he’d gotten good at it.

A soft mhm trails after Maea’s comment of the difficulty looking at each other, and he focuses on busying himself with plucking pieces of grass from his shoulders and arms where it’s clung to him. “Yeah.” He mutters a little softer. A low but long inhale follows it, before his steel gaze focuses on her, his head tilting a fraction. “Invited her in to see if her powers worked in the Refuge. She cornered me when she realized what I was doing and kissed me and just like that, I was all… purpley.” His nose wrinkles, a huff of a sigh leaving him.

look who makes their own bed, lies right down within it
and what will you have left?

Maea

Stars, hide your fires

The braid of grass became a bracelet, tied together with clever knots and plopped unceremoniously onto the top of Jata's head. Or perhaps diadem was a better word for it; he was a king, after all, if very different from the bejeweled men that used to headline the stories she grew up with. Thus crowned he looked more like the rogues along the way, or perhaps a dark knight that tired of doing the evil magicians bidding and struck out on his own. Her brother had loved those spinoff stories - she wondered what he would have made of Sunjata, of the kind of nightmarish tale she had wandered into.

Bereft of the distraction, Maea sat up and wrspped her arms around the knees, so she had something to rest her chin against. The frown tugging on her brow threatened to leave permanent wrinkles if time ever decided to catch up with her, and for a while she was quiet. Processing.

"I think I've been underestimating them," she eventually admitted, quietly rueful. "I mean, I knew they were strong and dangerous, but I didn't quite realise it went beyond raw strength and having nasty pets." Like being faced with a big monster - a hydra perhaps - whose many heads and poisonous teeth posed a serious problem but could be defeated if you just knew how. This, though... that a simple kiss could take you over and remove even the desire to escape, was insidious in a way she didn't know how to fight. Or, she knew how - they were all doing it already - but would conquering the island really be enough..?

"Do you... know anything about the gardening project, that Hadama's been involved with?" Asking carefully, she glanced down at the Flood. "How it's going, if it's working... I keep wondering if there's more that could be done. You know... by the rest of us." Beyond searching for flowers, to prepare for the eventuality that something went wrong and the regions became isolated islands in an ocean of Void.

Let not light see my black and deep desires

SUNJATA

look who's digging their own grave
this is what they all say; you'll drink yourself to death

“It’s bad, Maea.” He says softly, resigned, because to him, there was nothing worse than being incapable of trusting your own thoughts. When everything you did was solely based on what someone else wanted you to do and having no choice in the matter. It made you a prison in your own body, and while Sunjata isn’t that much of a control freak, he prides himself on at least being himself at the end of the day. Doing what he thought was right.

So he huffs out a little sigh, realizing after a few moments that she’d plunked a grassy little crown on his head as he registers the slight weight, reaching up to brush his fingers across the blades of grass, braided neatly. Snorting softly, he adjusts it so it’s less likely to fall off his head as he looks back over to her with a lopsided smile.

One that grows a touch softer at her question. “I’ve been gardening with him. It’s been… Difficult.” He admits, nose wrinkling before he puffs out a sigh and nods, the crown settled easily in the waves of his dark and grey streaked curls. “We’ve been trying to make.. gardening teams. Obviously I’m not saying come with us if you’re not there yet, but, you could make a team or join up with one.” He hates to admit it, but he’ll sit there awkwardly if he doesn’t. “We need more people willing to go. It can’t just be us all the time.” There’s a glint in his eye that he hides well, but the multitudes of times she’d seen his masks in their shared past would say something clearly.

He’s tired. And he’s worried.

look who makes their own bed, lies right down within it
and what will you have left?

Maea

Stars, hide your fires

Bad, horrible, dangerous and thoroughly unpleasant were only the tip of the iceberg when it came to the Family. It didn't help that she wasn't able to do more, either. She knew that look on Sunjata's face, knew he wouldn't be saying this if it wasn't absolutely necessary - and it spoke volumes too, that he was asking for help in the first place. She recalled vividly the times when he would have tried to protect everyone at the expense of himself.

Her head lolled forward and she hid her face away against her arms, mortified by her own weakness. "... I'd only get in the way," she admitted after a painful beat of silence. "I don't have the gear, nor the abilities..." She had spent too much time just lollygagging and dragging her feet. The skirmish with the Villi had shown her both the improvements and the flaws in her capabilities, not to mention the lack of experience in handling her own powers. The truth was harsh and stung her like nettles, but undeniable - the best thing she could do to help was by finding roses and fighting the small-fry.

"If the gardening project fails... what happens next?" Wallowing only for a moment in the self-pity, Maea soon pushed it aside for more pragmatic questions. "Do you know any who aren't fighting, who might be willing to think about the worst case scenario and help me plan for it..?"

Let not light see my black and deep desires

SUNJATA

look who's digging their own grave
this is what they all say; you'll drink yourself to death

“Seem plenty able to me.” Sunjata hums, glancing at her sidelong as his fingers trail along the grassy crown she’d plopped onto his head. He straightens up a little to stretch out his back, exhaling a sigh. “I’ve got nothing that works super well against them with a target on my back.” But still he tries, because there’s no other alternative. “Could try gardening in other infested areas.” Like the desert, for example.

But for now, Sunjata settles, slouching again and letting his hand drop to his lap, his thumb brushing against the threads of his jeans against his leg.

The question catches him off guard, though, one that has his steel gaze skating back to her with a scarred raised brow. “Everyone I know’s fighting in their own way. Even the ones only just getting strong.” He admits, though there are those that have been forced to stay their hand — Ronin, if he thinks about it longer. Though if planning for something after the dust settles from their gardening attempts would breach that, the Flood doesn’t know. It wasn’t his deal.

look who makes their own bed, lies right down within it
and what will you have left?

Maea

Stars, hide your fires

"Thanks, I think. But you haven't sparred with me in years - you don't actually know what I'm like these days," she replied, not unkindly but matter-of-fact. "I'm not trying to be modest, nor am I shirking out of the fight because I am unwilling. I just don't think I'd survive more than a hit or two at the level you're fighting. Hadama struggles over there. And he's able to pick me up with one hand without breaking a sweat." Splaying her hands out in a frustrated gesture, Maea shrugged as if to suggest there wasn't anything she could do about it that she wasn't already doing. As for cleansing infected areas... "Sure, of course I can. As soon as I get hold of another flower. But I thought Starfall was supposed to be the priority?"

Shifting as the frustration kept building up within, Maea made herself pause before responding. Unsure whether he was misunderstanding her or simply had no interest in the matter, she resisted the impulse to flare up with impatience. "I meant, anyone who is not going to Starfall to fight," she specified. "It's a long game, this invasion, right? Doesn't that mean we should be considering what happens if we don't win this battle? I'm not saying you have to do anything differently - just asking if you know any others who want to do more." Or at least talk about what could be done to prepare.

Let not light see my black and deep desires

SUNJATA

look who's digging their own grave
this is what they all say; you'll drink yourself to death

“Well yeah, but I’m not saying to come with us. Get some groups of people that aren’t quite as strong and maybe clear out the infestation elsewhere?” Sunjata hums, shrugging lightly. “As for the flowers, having more is always good. And if you find one, you can reach out to me and I can see if we need it for Starfall or if it can be used somewhere else?” Since he was also one of the main gardeners.

She pauses, though, and he knows her well enough to read the frustration building. But she pauses before she speaks and when it comes, the realization blooms, because he hadn’t thought of a scenario where they’d live while the battle was lost. So for that? The Flood is quiet, thoughtful, his head angling down as the feather earrings dangle over his tattooed shoulder as he considers it.

“I haven’t considered it, no. So I don’t… Really know anyone doing anything else? Sorry.” Comes the admission, not having the answer for her that he wished he did.

look who makes their own bed, lies right down within it
and what will you have left?

Maea

Stars, hide your fires

The way his expression changed told her more than anything else how single-minded the focus on Starfall had become. That Sunjata hadn't even considered what came after was somehow even more terrifying than the island itself, as Maea had a hard time accepting that cleansing one piece of land would somehow win the entire war for them.

Still, he sounded so regretful with that apology that she simply shook her head, to wave it off. "It's alright, I'm the one who should apologise. You've been focusing on other things, of course there's been no time to consider everything." That fell on her, and it looked like something she should be addressing with more people than Sunjata.

"I'll see what I can do, about cleansing other regions. Halo... would be difficult, but I can see about this place," she said, gesturing vagely to the Oerwoud at large. Trying to recall what other areas needed attention. The desert, maybe..? "Unless you have a suggestion?" She'd be grateful for any direction, at this point.

Let not light see my black and deep desires

SUNJATA

look who's digging their own grave
this is what they all say; you'll drink yourself to death

It’s likely because Maea doesn’t know about the god(s?) that dwell within the island – a kept secret of visions and information that had been shared from person to person. One that was the thing that made his stomach drop – like the idea of the next level being the water one, with the very clear indication that if Sunjata participates in it, he’s staring down a loaded gun.

Because while it was good for him to fight within the confines of water, if the Family won and the mirewyrm got to him, he’d quite possibly never come out. But it’s those thoughts that he pushes away in favor for trying to remain confident regarding it, without the idea of letting the despair overtake him.

“Yeah, could be a good idea, Maea.” He agrees, his tone softening a touch as though he realizes just how far they’ve come – no fights, no arguments with his misunderstandings, no frustration flared from the tone of their voices that they aren’t on the same page. Just casual acceptance.

That was how it was.

“I think the desert’s got a group heading out to cleanse it already.” He offers as an idle thought – but when it came to the Oerwoud, he nods his head. “This place needs it, though. And maybe some more eradication around? Hadama’s been helping out King’s End. Perhaps other regions that aren’t completely cleansed need help too?” He knows he’d always take some help, realizing he can’t be everywhere at once.

look who makes their own bed, lies right down within it
and what will you have left?

Maea

Stars, hide your fires

Cleansing regions, cleansing the wilds, helping to fight the good fight - it was well and good, yet it would take time away from the budding plans to prepare for a dark possibility. Even as she nodded in response to Sunjata's suggestions, Maea felt a prick of doubt about where she would do the most good.

"I'll do what I can," she promised, and stretched out on the cool grass as the conversation ground to a halt. For a time she simply lingered in silence, adjusting to this shift between them and liking the peace it brought to her spirit.

"Thank you, for taking the time to talk," she finally said, quiet and noticeably grateful. It had been a good talk, and she had much to consider while making the rest of the journey back home.

Let not light see my black and deep desires

SUNJATA

look who's digging their own grave
this is what they all say; you'll drink yourself to death

Nodding to her as she makes her promise and he starts to pluck himself up from the grassy ground, he keeps the crown on his head even as he reaches up to adjust it, pressing it down to sit more flush against his head and into his dark curls. His steel gaze flits down to her as she offers her quiet gratitude, offering a soft smile in response and a nod, even if the answers hadn’t been what Maea was looking for.

“’Course Maea. If you need to talk more, too, you know where to find me.” He murmurs softly, twisting to glance up at the sky and see the way the clouds have begun to filter in, providing a cool relief for the flight home. He casts one glance back toward her, before he’s shifting into his dragon shift once more – the flower crown snug in between a few of his plates and horns where it wouldn’t go anywhere when he departs, and he takes to the skies with a warm gust of wind.

look who makes their own bed, lies right down within it
and what will you have left?