Hard days are a light rain coming down around my head

Colt

She's a runner, she's a lover, always stuck in her ways
Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page
She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain

The first day of actual good weather they've had and she took off from her work like a shot. There's more to do, of course there is. There's always more to do, that's the problem. She's long since given up on ever seeing the end of a to-do list, so she isn't about to let the guilt of that become a cloud over this otherwise bright, perfectly sunny day. It's been miserable of late, and as much as she doesn't like the chill of Deepfrost, she's finding she misses it, because at least it hadn't tried to drown them all in mud and floodwater. It's why she's not about to waste the first hint of lasting sunshine on the backs of thankless cattle and rotten steeds.

Beans, thankfully, is not a rotten steed. He's grazing nearby, his tack undone beside him so he can rest easy too, lazily grazing on all the fresh growth bursting forth. Colt is setting up on a rockface nearby, bent over it to thwap her towel against it a few good times to get all the debris removed. It's angled just right to meet the sunlight without losing it to the trees, and not far away the stream that cuts through here trickles by merrily, the sound soothing and promising a quick refreshment if she should get too warm. She's doubtful that'll be the case, the heat a welcome reprieve instead of something unbearable like it'll become in Longheat.

Flapping the towel out now and laying it down carefully as a layer of comfort between her and the stone, she settles down on it. Slowly she casts off clothes, one piece at a time, dumping them beside the rock. First her boots, spurs chiming as they tumble down, and then her socks soundlessly flopping after them. Next she shimmies free of her jeans, the denim slapping into the ground with certainty. Her panties follow suit with a light flutter, because if she's going to work on her tan, she's going to get everything well golden. Few people come out this way, even fewer with all the mud to argue with, so she's content in her choice. Her shirt and bra join the growing heap, and she leans back with a sigh after fluffing her hair out behind her.

When she's in it, she's all in it, ain't no holding her back
When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast
She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass

SuNjATA

the flood

Its true, people don’t often come out this way. But there is one who does, guided by old familiar paths that have long grown over since the war when he’d needed the short cuts to get here and there. What he doesn’t expect to see is a familiar horse grazing in the long grasses that have grown and been free from the mud, let alone the perfectly nude and familiar blonde behind him as Sunjata passes.

It's not awkward, at least for him as he hums a note of greeting to her in the form of "hey Colt," – his scarred hand offering a wave above Bean’s back, turning his focus onto the equine lest Colt grow suddenly self conscious despite the fact he’d seen her like this before. Murmuring a gentle greeting to Beans, his hand brushes along the horse’s neck in a kind and easy touch as he directs his question to the rancher appearing to sun tan on the rock. “Are you tanning, or…?” He’s not really sure what else she could be doing if he’s being honest.

if i let go, would you hold on?
would we fly?

Colt

She's a runner, she's a lover, always stuck in her ways
Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page
She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain

There's definitely a difference between being intentionally stripped bare with someone, and being surprised by it. This is the latter. Though Colt has never been above using her assets to her benefit, his voice cuts through the peace she settled into and draws a startled gasp from her. She begins to pop up, but then thinks better of it and flips over immediately, legs crossing at the ankles. She winces, forehead pressed against the towel, a repeating fuck fuck fuck racing through her mind. She recognizes that voice, and gods out of anyone, she's at least glad it's him, but still.

"H-hey Sunjata!" she calls back, trying for casual but ending up with thin embarrassment. It's already emerging scarlet on her cheeks, rushing through her like a hot prickle that she feels along her scalp. She tilts her head to the side, peering down at the distance to her clothes and how sneakily she could retrieve them. Maybe he hadn't noticed yet. Biting at her bottom lip, she tries to inch over to the edge of the rock, one arm reaching down, fingers just barely able to brush something.

His next question lands too specific for him to have guessed without seeing her though. Some of her tension ebbs at knowing she's already been caught and she groans quietly into the rock. Easing up on her reach, arm just dangling uselessly over the side, she glances over at Beans and the man trying to nonchalantly linger near him. "Y-yeah!" She calls over, lifting her head up and propping it on a folded hand. "Thought I'd get an even one," she explains with a short laugh at her predicament. "Would stick to my backyard if I didn't think someone would come by there too, but guess there's no escaping it." All things considered, she'd rather it be Sunjata than one of the ranch hands, and at least out here there's more peace and quiet away from a pack of dogs stumbling over her while they playfight.

When she's in it, she's all in it, ain't no holding her back
When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast
She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass

SuNjATA

the flood

He gives her space as she – presumably – tries to hide or decide whether or not to slip her clothes back on. Or, to tell him to fuck off, which is absolutely an option as well as he busies himself with giving Beans some scratches and pets as he asks her if she’s been tanning – because yeah, he was curious who was lounging on the rock before she even deciding to reach out and say hello.

A warm chuckle leaves him of understanding, though, as she explains just why she’s out here. “Eh, not many people use this route in the Refuge. I would’ve flown by but.. y’know. Kinda impossible here.” He shrugs as if explaining that it was probably the best place to get a tan without too many people nearby. Either way, though, the Flood casts another glance toward her. “You want any company? I could use some sun to get my freckles out again.” Always darker on his face in the sunlight, they essentially all but fade away completely during LongNight.

That and Sunjata’s never quite been one to be pale – always more than willing to soak up the sun to get that bronze, sunkissed tone that he’s fairly certain most of his clients are looking for him to have when they book him occasionally.

if i let go, would you hold on?
would we fly?

Hey, what's that? Out of the corner of your eye, you see a colourful, hand-painted egg. Perhaps it's sitting amidst some flowers, on a tree branch, next to a river, or in a merchant's shop, but wherever it is, it doesn't seem to be accidentally placed there. On one side you see a painted hot air balloon. Maybe it has something to do with the upcoming festival!

Go ahead and pick it up!

---

You've found a painted egg!. Whoever is next to post in this thread will be the first one to see the egg, but if they wish to give it to someone else, they're more than welcome! No need to post in account updates, just keep track of this thread and pick up your egg IC!

Colt

She's a runner, she's a lover, always stuck in her ways
Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page
She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain

He hardly needs to explain what he's doing here, in his own refuge, but she nods just the same as he offers it up like a swear he wasn't just trying to peek on her. Not that she's worried he would, she imagines he gets his fill plenty without needing to prowl around some place as vague as here.

She eases slightly, leaning heavily over her hands as she considers the offer. On the one hand, she'd planned on being alone. On the other, alone is a state she's in far too often, and out here with nothing to do but sit, she knows her thoughts will inevitably tangle up around Vesper again. She'd like some relief from all the mental pacing she's been doing, so she offers out a "yeah, actually. Your company is always welcome, Sunjata." Giving up on modesty, she sighs and flops back onto her back, resettling into her previous pose as she tugs her hair free once more.

"There's another towel tucked in the side of the saddle, if you want." She'd packed it in case she needed one to dry off after dipping in the stream, but if it does get to that, she could always request some of his water wicking services now. "You have to be nude too though!" she calls out, in case he thought he could get away with her being the only one. "That way we're on even ground," she asserts, and if he happens to be something nice to look at and talk to, well she could use all the distractions she could get just about now. Speaking of, "is that...an egg?" she wonders, a hand lifting above her eyes as she peers towards a tree by her rock.

When she's in it, she's all in it, ain't no holding her back
When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast
She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass

SuNjATA

the flood

As she accepts his offer, he runs his hand along Beans’ neck before patting lightly and making his way over toward the rocks while any awkwardness begins to fade away. “First I’ve heard that in a long time.” He teases her about his company always being welcome, flashing her a lopsided smile. Heading over to grab the towel she points out, his laugh leaves him as she makes her claims. “Yeah, alright. Seems only fair, huh?” He places the towel down on the rock beside her own on a flat space, before he gets to work shedding out of his clothes.

With his shirt halfway removed, her question has him peeking over as one arm remains tangled in the inside of his dark shirt. “Wha—oh, it is. That’s the second one I’ve seen.” He glances around as if waiting for something to appear for it now that it wasn’t just a random thing that happened once before nodding to her. “You want it? I took the last one I saw.” Only because Jack hadn’t wanted it.

He then finally slips out of his shirt, kicking off his boots and the rest of his clothes – the lefthand side of his body facing her streaked with the branching lightning strike scars. Up by his hips as they become more visible from the lack of clothes, more half crescent scars lay periodically along both legs, some appearing like open parenthesis while others appearing more like a smiling mouth or a frown, littering the lower half of his body.

It doesn’t take him much time to sit on the rock, though, sinking back to let the sun work its magic. “So did you have enough lantern oil the rest of LongNight?”

if i let go, would you hold on?
would we fly?

Colt

She's a runner, she's a lover, always stuck in her ways
Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page
She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain

A short laugh breaks free, and she cuts a glance towards him, still hidden heavily by Beans for the time being. "Oh come now, that's not true," she pushes back with no small amount of disbelief. Tease or not, she's certain he's got no ground to stand on to toss out such a remark. "Deimigod of sex, Archon of the loveliest region, owner of the best brothel and bar, and a prime rodeo mount, not to mention always charming, surely there's no one around here unhappy for your company." If her opinion is a bit biased, she doesn't seem to care. She considers after a pause. "Maaaaybe just no one says it out loud because they don't want to give you a big head. Not the one on your shoulders, at least."

She slips back into her prime sun soaking pose with a smirk, partially put there with appreciation that he'd accepted her terms and otherwise smug with the confidence of all she'd just said. That is, until the egg distracts her, and shortly thereafter Sunjata does an excellent service in that same vein. Her gaze slips towards him with a tilt of her head, hand still keeping back the sun from her eyes. Vesper might be who she wants, but Sunjata is gloriously uncomplicated in that entire regard—he's available in all the ways she can appreciate right now, and none in the ways she wants nothing to do with. Gods, he's perfect for her, really, and that's a thought she doesn't fight when it slips in amongst all the burrs that have nestled in around others.

You want it? comes in on the heels of tracing the muscle on display beneath the lifting of his shirt, the egg already entirely forgotten. Before an answer can form, the rest of what he says rushes in behind it, I took the last one I saw not quite fitting the same way with her line of thought. "Oh, weird," she says with a sigh as she tips her eyes closed and tilts her chin into the sun. "I guess? I'll pick it up before I leave." Unless he'd be so kind as to put it in her saddlebags before getting into position, but she couldn't be too bothered by the whole thing.

She can hear the rest of his clothes shuffling away, but she keeps her eyes firmly shut, convincing herself that adding more men to equation won't solve a thing for her. Besides, Sunjata had already proven incapable of stripping Vesper from her once before. That she's less certain she wants him to now is only an added layer of complexity, although she knows he would manage to, at least for the moment. Fuck if she isn't getting tired of just living in little moments though.

Her head tilts her cheek into the rock as his voice comes from her side, closer now. She does peek her eyes open this time, intending to ensure he kept his word and didn't cheat, not even with a sock. Her eyes helplessly trail lower in the scout of footwear, shamelessly skimming scars and curves as she goes, a persistent battle of wills humming through her. She's content to find he's a man of his word. "Yeah, I did, thanks to you." The smile that seats itself is genuine and strong at that, warmed by his kindness and the quiet moment they'd shared in the attic.

She grows quieter though, lips relenting back to neutral. "Happy to have another one behind me," and it's not a lie, but it's not fully true either, not when it marked Vesper's departure. She sighs through her nose, unsure how something as simple as enjoying a nice day and getting a tan could prove exhausting. "Could do without all this fucking mud though," she mutters, searching for a tried and true enemy to funnel her frustrations into. "What're your plans for keeping everyone dry and clean during this fair?"

When she's in it, she's all in it, ain't no holding her back
When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast
She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass

SuNjATA

the flood

Snorting to hear her list out all the reasons that people might find him decent company, he can’t help the playful roll of his eyes. “Well, that’s only one side of the coin.” He chuckles, exhaling a little sigh as he offers the flipside – the darker ones. “Safrin’s Betrayer, ex-Governor of Torchline, owner of the VlamVloed that I’m not quite sure exists anymore, more of a storm cloud than sun despite my name.” His voice takes on an accented sing-song kind of tone before he shakes his head and glances back at her with a lopsided smile. “And that’s just the brief blip of things I can remember.” He’d had enough near death experiences that some of his memory is spotty, even these days.

Either way, there’s yet another random fucking egg appearing that he doesn’t pay much mind to as he settles on the towel on the rock, letting the warmth of the sun try to bake some of his freckles back in, adding a golden tone to his skin despite the scars that would try to prove otherwise. He can feel her look, though, and if he preens a little under her gaze it’s entirely based off of the fact he’s the sex-frey demigod obviously and not his ego.

Humming a note of agreement that she’ll pluck the egg up, he thinks briefly back to his own painted egg back at his house – waiting to see what the fuck to do with it, even if Petronella had tried her best to destroy it thinking it was a toy with its brightly painted colors. Tilting his head toward her, he reaches up with his lightning scarred hand to drag a hand through his hair, brushing it back and tucking that hand beneath his head. “You’re very welcome.” He boasts a little proudly, not hiding the smile that quirks up his lips.

At the mention of having another LongNight behind them, that’s a consensus they can absolutely agree with, and one that the Flood hums a note of agreement to. “Cheers to that.” He agrees almost wearily, tilting his head toward the sun again. “Honestly? Lots of tents and trying to keep me in the middle of it to ward it away if it tries to fall.” Which isn’t a great option, but it’s the one he could come up with. He could make a shield over it – for sixty feet at least – and pray for the best result that kept the least amount of people from getting soaked as possible.

"I'm just trying to get some of it cleaned up before we do the big cleaning for it. Which, honestly, I've never seen so much fucking mud in my life and I nearly drowned once before in a monster made of the shit." His nose wrinkles, a touch of drama flaring from the Flood with the explanation.

if i let go, would you hold on?
would we fly?

Colt

She's a runner, she's a lover, always stuck in her ways
Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page
She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain

She can't fight back the grin that stretches with each pouting example he gives. "Come now, you're gonna let an old bar tarnish your coin?" Her 'brows lift with the surprise of it, rather thinking that hardly deserves to be mentioned alongside the monument of the House. "I dunno who you're kidding Sunny," she prods with no small amount of fondness. "But I have never thought of you as anything but a storm cloud sugar." Her head turns to set her gaze on him, serious despite the hum of tease beneath each rebuttal. "I love storms." she asserts, entirely adamant about it, affection like a weapon she's turning on him now.

"Besides, you are the Flood, not the Sunshine. Sunny is more like an anti-nickname." She shrugs, shoulders rubbing against the towel as she shifts back towards the sun with a pleasant sigh. "Anyway, we all have exes, especially at this age. If not, you'd be some closeted weirdo." She chooses not to touch on the Safrin wound, figuring she's gotten her point across by now. Though, she hardly thinks he betrayed the god without due cause, and he knows it, he's just bitching, which she's not going to hold against him any longer than she needs to.

One final quip does eke out though. "Memory loss already?" She tsks like it's a disappointment. "You're supposed to lose hair color not grey matter when you become a silver fox you know."

Content to just soak in the sun, his presence its own sort of warmth beside her, she tips her chin up higher to the sky. Each shift breaks some of the heat across the moving skin, a pleasant reminder of the sun's embrace, sure to kiss a bit more gold on her skin. Unlike Sunjata, she doesn't make this part of a routine, and with her body so often trapped behind pants and long-sleeves for most her days, it ends up being a shock every time she puts on a pair of shorts and her legs are reflective. This time of year and Longheat part of her turn golden, but it only makes the line separating white from bronze that much more jarring.

Languidly she lifts one of her legs a bit, toes wriggling at the warmth. "I was afraid you'd say that," she huffs at him. "That means you're gonna be running around like a personal umbrella for everyone instead of enjoying the event." The tents is a good idea, but it sounds like he'll be a bit short still. "Maybe we get everyone to leave some extra offerings for nature Frey and they'll be kind enough to leave the one day dry for us." Though, the mud is its own matter.

Her head tilts back towards him, drawn at first to his face. "Fuck, I heard about that when it happened." She frowns, knowing it'd been a hell of a fight. "Let's hope there's no repeats somewhere, Deimos mentioned we're not the only ones struggling with all the rain and mud. Prime conditions for a reappearance, I'm afraid." There's little use worrying though, especially with enough already present to handle. "I'll help wherever I can, just say the word," she offers it simple and easy, for the region mostly, but it's no hard extension when it's to him either.

When she's in it, she's all in it, ain't no holding her back
When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast
She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass

SuNjATA

the flood

It is fun and games until she says Sunny in a fond attempt to prod at him – but it sparks an almost masked smile, a slight flinch to hear it so brazenly said. “That’s good.” He says a little numbly, having not intended on letting his little self antagonizing playfulness get so close to his chest, enough that thanks to the Refuge’s abilities she doesn’t get to see the feathers that would ruffle or appear, the scales that might take its place to block him away from any feelings.

She continues and he finds himself staring at the sky, to a particularly puffy cloud that drifts on by in the shape of what he can only assume to be a large cockroach with the wispy bits of the cloud extending out into the blue of the sky. “Hey, so, are you cool with just calling me Jata or anything else but Sunny?” He asks a little quietly, keeping his gaze away from her. He doesn’t really want to have to explain, but he feels like it’s necessary. It isn’t her fault, after all.

“It’s kind of a special nickname for me. My mom called me that. And Nate.” And Vervain and Hotaru on some days, only ones that had gotten close enough and wiggled their way under his skin and taken portions of his heart got the ability to call him that. But he doesn’t want to bring the vibe down further as he tilts his head slightly so she can see the crown of light brown hair, meshed and intermixed already with waves of grey peeking through. “I’ve already got the greys started.” He jokes, gesturing with his lightning scarred hand to his hair before he drags his hand through it again.

As for the fair and the prep of it, the Flood hums a little sigh as he nods. “Yeah, Danta said the Grounds have some pretty bad mud too. Torchline seems mostly spared, though, in case you wanted a real break from it all.” Shrugging slightly, he tilts his attention back toward her, his grey gaze dark to mirror the stormclouds off in the distance, likely battering more rain against New Haven if he had to guess from this distance. “I should talk to Frey though. They might enjoy a little gathering for the new year.” It’s a thought that worms its way in, a mental debate of whether or not he risks it or uses that as one of his calls to the gods when the other would likely have to do with a regional quest.

if i let go, would you hold on?
would we fly?

Colt

She's a runner, she's a lover, always stuck in her ways
Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page
She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain

She doesn't see the way her aggressive affection sends him withdrawing into a dark corner she didn't mean to disturb. She's too busy shielding the sun from her eyes, or appraising some other part of him on display. She hears it though, although she mistakes it at first for whatever dump he's trying to get himself down in. All the more reason for her not to relent on the bright humor and fondness.

It can't get any clearer than what he says next though, or how seriously he means it with the way his tone dips low, fading into something distant. Aware she's overstepped she immediately pulls her breath back, stilling like the stone beneath her, pressing into it like it could claim part of her if it wanted to. He offers a small explanation, enough to keep the questions at bay. It's a reminder that for all the scars he's got on display, not everything heals, and fuck if she doesn't know the truth of that. "Yeah..." she agrees without effort, biting at the inside of her cheek. She considers an apology, an I didn't mean to..., but none of that would be for him, it'd be for her, so she swallows it down.

To his credit, he tries not to let it remain like a divide between them, flowing into idle chat with ease, however practiced it might be. It lingers in her though, nestling alongside the image of him literally getting his feathers ruffled so easily during Longnight. It doesn't disquiet her to find parts of him that are uneasy, the world has a way of wearing parts of you thin eventually, but it presses in on her bruises like a reminder they exist too, too tender to require much right now for it to hurt. The mention of the Grounds is no help at all in that regard.

So she lets her voice trail away, greedier now for the sun than ever before to give her something golden and warm to hold onto. She sighs softly, flipping over onto her stomach, turning her head towards him though her eyes are shut as she draws up heat like a lizard. "Maybe some time away isn't a bad idea," she reasons well after he's offered Torchline.

When she's in it, she's all in it, ain't no holding her back
When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast
She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass

SuNjATA

the flood

She agrees – and without much further of an explanation. It makes it easier for him to breathe through the potential slip. She wasn’t the first to have done it and he’d had to correct. It happened… Honestly, a lot of the time, but he’s found that with life moving on, he wasn’t out and about and making new friends all that often these days. It was a correction that wasn’t a constant thing. And that, perhaps, is what’s made it all that much more jarring to hear it drop from her lips, even as affectionately and fond as she’d intended it to be.

But then he’s fairly confident he’s ruined the mood, drawing silent to stare up at the sky and continue to try and pick apart different clouds that look like weird creatures when she flips onto her stomach and tilts her head toward him. He can see it in his peripheral vision, humming a little note of agreement. “Got a place in mind?” He asks after a moment, contemplating where might be a decent place to go. “If you didn’t wanna go too far away, you can always snag a room at the House and make it wherever you want it to be.” He offers like an olive branch, tilting his head toward her to flash her a small smile as if trying to bring the good back into their conversation before he’d gone and ruined it (a thing Sunjata does quite regularly, it seems).

if i let go, would you hold on?
would we fly?

Colt

She's a runner, she's a lover, always stuck in her ways
Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page
She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain

The longer she lays here, the more certain she is that she can't continue to. Maybe, if their banter had stayed light hearted, she could have found some kind of relief. With the cold wash between them though, her fault and his right, she feels like the sun isn't enough to reach the chill that's set into her bones. It's nothing to do with him, not exactly. She'd never hold boundaries or old pain against someone, but she isn't in the right frame of mind these days to just smile through everything and shrug it off like usual.

Even on her stomach now, she feels suddenly too bare and vulnerable, and he feels more stranger than the first day she'd met him. All of it gnaws on her, and she's barely hanging on by a thread lately, she can't take the addition of his teeth too. "Torchline sounds like a good idea," she says easily, rolling off the rock without theatrics. She slides down the side by where she'd put her clothes, one hand bracing on the rock while the other starts to gather her things. "Have a horse I left there I need to pick up, so it works out." The itch to be gone is urgent now. Not just from here, but from all of it. Maybe she'd find the relief she's been looking for in the sand and the surf. Nevermind that it had once been Vesper home, she hadn't spent enough time there with him to figure his memory would stain that place too. Hasn't entirely yielded to the idea that he's stained her this fully.

She shimmies into her panties, shaking her head at his offer. "Thanks, but I think I need something more than a magic room." Although if it gets real bad, part of her wonders if using them to lay out in the stars again, even during the day, might help.

When she's in it, she's all in it, ain't no holding her back
When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast
She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass