[SE] Sometimes you need the rain to know you miss the sun

ISKRA

While it is true that he has not been drinking nearly as much these past few seasons, burying guilt and grief beneath self-improvement and good company, Iskra is not opposed to drinking still. In fact, it's still a grand remedy for tired muscles spent on hauling axes into trees or logs into store rooms. It's the latter that's brought him here today, having worked on the transportation of a shipment of lumber up here. He missed the last sky ship of the night, something about mud and delays, so he's bunking up nearby and he'll head back to Halo in the morning. That leaves him with very few responsibilities for an evening and plenty of aches looking to be dulled.

Goose is curled at his feet, back pressed against the base of the bar as Iskra jockeys a stool and rouses a mug of beer to his lips every so often. Beside him he's got a leather bound journal of paper, and his pencil scratches against it every so often as new thoughts strike him. It's a rather detailed, if disoriented, to-do list. First at the top, is simply, get stronger. From there, an arrow points to the next, presumably, step in this process which just says, FIGHT!

Never caught a feelin' this hard — harder than the liquor I pour

Zavien

Strike hands with me. The glass is brim.
The dew is on the heather.

Grief is a weird thing. It follows Zavien like a shadow, rearing its ugly head when he least expects it. Even after a few weeks, it doesn't feel real. He catches himself planning to tell Lena something later, or having a simple smell rip up a memory of warm laughter or flirty smiles. For a moment, he nearly smiles to himself, leaning into the familiar excitement and affection before the reality pulls the stability out from under him. It steals his breath, stabbing and squeezing his chest until he can't help but freeze, trapped in the grief that consumes him. Only once his eyes refocus and his lungs pull in a tragically present breath is he able to face the world again, the pain of it all hard to ignore until it slowly dulls, preparing to be dug up by the next reminder. 

He recalls the cycle, remembers what it was like when his mom had died. But those memories have faded with time, and each loss holds its own sharpness, a different kind of guilt and regret weighing on his heart. Everything in him wants to hide from the world, to find seclusion where he can wallow and slowly find his own peace again - to discover what the world looks like without Lena in it. However, the leadership that had once been so bright with hope and opportunity has become his shackle and his lifeline, keeping him tethered to society. In some ways, he embraces it, shoving aside the burden of grief for that of responsibility; but he also dreads it, knowing he can't show weakness or falter when the people are relying on him, when it would be so easy to stumble. So he walks carefully, offers what smiles he can until there aren't any eyes to see it fall away. He nods and makes appearances where he's expected to, continuing the work that won't stop even with her gone, knowing she'd been so proud of his new role, knowing she'd want him to take care of the Breakers in her absence. And with the Tower still to be built, Zavien has more work than ever. It's the entire reason he straightens his shoulders and steps into the bar, plans giving his steps purpose when he can't find it otherwise. 

Sol strolls in along his feet, the pep less obvious in his step, even as he tries to hide the worried glances towards his companion or the lower hang of his tail. The golden dragon still scans the space, taking his task as protector quite seriously. His golden gaze zeroes in on the dog tucked under the bar, immediately fighting the urge to make friends, but dutifully remaining at Zavien's side as he approaches the bartender. 

Giving a polite nod and smile of greeting, he leans against the wood. "Gabe. How's business? Got anything for me?" The usual gleam in his eyes is dim, but he forces his shoulders to stay back, his lips to curve up, and his tone to be light when it all feels heavy. The only things he can't hide are the darkness under his eyes or the slightly disheveled lengthening of his hair. Blissfully, Gabe either doesn't notice or doesn't comment on them, smiling in return as he finishes cleaning the glass in his hands. "Pretty good. Customers are slowly starting to return. I've been trying to keep my ears open for workers or contractors, but," the middle-aged man shrugs, the apology clear on his face. 

Zavien tries not to let the news further dampen his mood, tensing his back to keep it from bowing. His head tilts in acceptance, aware that it's not Gabe's fault. He's just been trying to help in the ways he can, and the Zavien can only reward that. 

Pulling a deep breath, he pushes off from the wood. "Well, thank you for keeping up the hard work. I might as well take a drink while I'm here." He smiles again, more encouraging this time as he takes a seat at the bar, willing to suspend his work for the night if it means supporting a local business. The barkeep sets aside his glass, draping the towel over his back with a grin. "Any time, Commander. Let me grab your usual." Then he turns to grab a beer, Zavien taking the moment to breathe, letting the smile falter for a moment before it's slipping back into place to accept the bottle. "Thanks." The alcohol goes down smooth, the swig warming the ache in his chest before he lifts the drink in approval. "Great as always."

Gabe chuckles, dragging the rag from his shoulder to resume cleaning. "Let me know if you need another. That one's on the house." There's a weight to the words along with the look in his eyes, a knowing that has Zavien's throat tightening, the smile thinner when he offers his thanks.

And love is good, and life is long,
and friends are best together.

ISKRA

His attention slips between his paper and thoughts and tipping his drink back every so often, breaking to listen to the conversation drifting around him and glance towards a person who's got his eye for some reason or another (usually to see if they do something foolish he could laugh about). He could just drink alone in his room after all if he really wanted peace and quiet to plan out his next steps (1. Improve. 2. ???? 3. PROFIT!), so being here is really a bit of a social affair, even if he hasn't said much in the past hour besides an exchange of pleasantries and an order or two with the barkeep.

So his ear tilts in for a listen when Zavien joins the bar, exchanging more than just a simple back and forth the man behind the bar. Commander is a title that carries weight, and Iskra's gaze pops over the rim of his glass to assess the man. He's vaguely familiar, like a face he's seen in passing but never gotten to know. He thinks he...rode a dragon? Can't remember, it was over so fast and he was distracted with the hijinks Mel had been getting up to.

Against better judgement perhaps, Iskra rouses his voice, since Zavien took up a seat near him and Iskra is having trouble filling in the question marks for step two on his list. "What're you needing builders and contractors for?" He glances sidelong at the man who looks like he's shouldering the weight of the world on scaffolding he's still trying to get up on his shoulders.

Never caught a feelin' this hard — harder than the liquor I pour

Zavien

Strike hands with me. The glass is brim.
The dew is on the heather.

Settling comfortably into his seat, he finally turns to take in the other patrons of the bar just as the man next to him is speaking. His eyes find those of the stranger, taking in the muscular build and rugged appearance. The question alone is enough to hint that the man isn't a Breaker, even if Zavien would have known from the unfamiliar face. Still, it surprises him. Perhaps he's biased in his perception of the world, with Stormbreak always sitting at the center, but he'd assumed everyone knew about the Tower. 

He smiles politely, placing the mask back over his face as he lowers his bottle to the wood. "The rubble in the middle of the city used to be a Tower. We've been working on rebuilding it, but there have been a lot of delays with contractors, supplies, workers, and every other issue you can imagine." Not to add his recent 'altercation' with a certain leader to make it all the more tense. It's left him feeling the pressure of the task, urging him to raise Stormbreak back to its former glory, yet knowing he can't do it on his own. 

Taking another sip of his beer to strengthen his resolve for the work to come - and push aside the reminder that Lena would never see it completed - Zavien nods his head. "If you know of anyone with supplies - or two extra hands - feel free to send them our way. They'll be amply compensated." It's as much an offer for the man as a request for word to spread beyond the city limits, to reach other regions in hopes of finding the last bit of help they needed to complete the monument. Every mouth and willing soul would be essential in expediting the rebuilding process - including a curious man in a bar.

And love is good, and life is long,
and friends are best together.

ISKRA

Iskra can't lay much claim to caring about what does or doesn't happen in Stormbreak. Not the least of which is because this place once did not open its doors to folks like him, but also he's become very adept at burying his head in sand, so to speak. Might be colder and whiter, but the snow of Halo and all the work there leaves plenty to fill his days with, and it's a lonely, distant sort of task that keeps him hacking away at woods every hour, not the bustling hub of announcements and activity. Might be why the bars call to him so easily, like perhaps he could drink his fill in a short time and let it sink into his bones while he sleeps.

Although, Iskra's head has been up more of late, and he has heard of the Tower. Seen it, even, since this bar has become one of his favorites (all the more sour it was held back with bigotry for so long of his life). "Oh, that little thing?" he muses with a small smile at the obvious jest. "Thought perhaps you were working on a house or something easy." He sighs long and weary, the inconvenience of what Zavien tells him clearly laid out on his conscience. His fault for asking, he supposes. Could have kept to his beer and his notes.

He does take a thoughtful sip of his beer again, seeming to contemplate a lot in that one draught. "Just so happens I do," he says with a ragged calm, gaze flicking sidelong at the stranger. He holds out a hand as the stein hits the counter. "Name's Iskra. Woodcutter in Halo, with two capable hands and a supply chain of lumber I could organize up here." Could always use a new way to test himself. "What all does rebuilding a heap of rubble into a tall tower entail?" In other words, what's the plan stan?

Never caught a feelin' this hard — harder than the liquor I pour

Zavien

Strike hands with me. The glass is brim.
The dew is on the heather.

He hears the joke, and his mouth opens to laugh, to let the humor hang between them - but it falls short. A small chuckle clamors out instead, heavy around the grief still rimming his eyes. As much as he appreciates the lightness, striving to embody it himself, he can't quite summon the same level of ease no matter how hard he curves his smile upward. "I wish." And wouldn't it be nice? If they were just building a cozy house in the middle of the city, somewhere to hang out and forget about the heavy work still to be done? Knowing it's not quite easy, he's ready to enjoy his beer, to hide away in his own dampened thoughts and emotions for awhile. Until the man's words are drawing his attention, a hope blossoming bright in his chest. 

Raising an eyebrow and willing to crack a small, genuine smile, he reaches out to grasp the offered hand, firm and full of opportunity. "Nice to meet you, Iskra. I'm Zavien." Hearing the rest of the explanation, he shakes his head and lifts his bottle to his lips. "Seriously? I won't lie - that'd be extremely helpful." 

The next question is a loaded one, and Zavien has to take a good mouthful of beer before he's raising his eyes to the rafters above, thinking through all the steps that have yet to do. "It's a long process of foundation forming, framing, scaffolding, brick laying, adding windows and furniture and hopefully restoring what was destroyed." His head turns to look at Iskra, still tilting up as he adds, "You know. Simple stuff." A small smile is attempts at a similar humor, the joke trying to spark through the dampening of his mood.

And love is good, and life is long,
and friends are best together.

ISKRA

It's always the offer that's the hardest to make, like getting up on cold mornings to go run, that first push back of the covers always the hardest. Well, that and not snoozing the alarm. Once he does it though, he's always glad, because seeing the way relief blooms into something bold enough to be hope on Zavien's face is something better to sip on than beer. Their hands meet, and Iskra nods to answer the rhetorical question.

Although, wouldn't it be a damn funny sike! moment? Mel would be proud, at least.

He doesn't take Zavien's moment of quiet as anything but the gathering of thoughts, arranging what maybe has only been a jumble in his mind until now, finally spoken aloud with more intent than it seems like words should do. Thing is, words make it real, and they make you shape your thoughts into something concise and understandable, tying up fringes into seams.

"Well," Iskra starts, fingers tugging throughtful on his beard. "Can't say I'm a carpenter or anything of the sort by trade, but I can do my fair share and definitely organize shipments from Halo once I get back there tomorrow." He could assemble quick, not exactly having anything time sensitive other than a date to plan, but Mel surely is running about fucking with various monsters in the meanwhile. "When do you think you need it by? This season, next, ?"

Never caught a feelin' this hard — harder than the liquor I pour

Zavien

Strike hands with me. The glass is brim.
The dew is on the heather.

The smile is coming a little easier, casting through the darkness like foggy rays of sunlight through heavy rain clouds. He understands, figuring the scabbard on his hip might give away that hes not a carpenter either, along with the muscles built more for war than manual labor. But with nothing to swing a weapon at recently, he's found that the motion translates well enough to a hammer, and maybe instead of destroying something bad, he could make something good for a change. 

Taking another sip, he considers the timeline with a narrowing of his eyes, like he's trying to calculate the precise dates and times for each step. "Well, we'd been meaning to have it done before LongNight, so we're already behind." He swallows around the tension building in his chest, thinking of the many ways this LongNight had been his worst. Instead, he smiles again, a little tighter with a forced bit of enthusiasm. "But lumber is one of the last things we're waiting on. If we can get that delivered soon, I think we could get the building process started - and maybe finished before the end of the season." 

Zavien turns to Iskra, doing his best not to push too hard or look too excited about the prospect. "How long do you think it would take to get the wood out here? Would you need extra hands for the process?"

And love is good, and life is long,
and friends are best together.

ISKRA

He hears the things that Zavien is reluctant to say. As soon as possible. It's a demanding timeline for someone offering a favor, but Iskra's lips twitch with the effort of not letting his smile run away with the notice of it. There's a certain politeness to undoing the term of stranger on someone, especially when it's through manual labor and supply chains. "Well I'd definitely hate to be what keeps holding you back, so rest assured I'll get started on it tomorrow. Just send a raven with exact quantities and cuts you need and I'll send you back the quote. Once I know all the numbers are solid, then we'll get the ships loaded and moving here. I'll give you word then, so you know when to expect them and can guide the delivery." He nods at the plan, experience making the talk light, and giving him a general sense of what to expect based on the scale of the rubble he saw and some of its wooden remnants. "Nothing worse than having to move something more than you have to, so wouldn't want to drop it off at the wrong spot."

He considers the offer of extra help as he takes another tilt of beer. "Can always use more hands when moving wood." Phrasing. "I think by the end of the season is more than doable," he agrees after another pause to drink, each draught a chance to digest all the variables and hurdles.

A glance is cut sidelong at Zavien as Iskra sets his drink back down, because he did notice the weapon, albeit most people in Caido are wise to arm themselves. "How is it you're the one building up a big tower?" Implying, why is a warrior tackling a feat meant for men who know brick and mortar.

Never caught a feelin' this hard — harder than the liquor I pour

Zavien

Strike hands with me. The glass is brim.
The dew is on the heather.

Understanding of the last-minute, monstrous request he's made of Iskra, Zavien doesn't hide the gratitude, a shimmer of bright light and hope cracking through the muted colors of his smile. "We'd appreciate that, although we've waited this long and we can't be demanding when we're relying on the good will of others. Name your price and we'll meet it." Not well-versed in bargaining tactics, Zavien might learn the hard way about what that means, but at this point, he's willing to sell a kidney to get this thing done, to cast aside one more burden for his city. 

On the matter of hands and extra help, he offers a nod of his head. "You let me know how many and we'll make it work. I can even send the guide with you so there's no worries about miscommunications or uncertainties." Shrugging his shoulders, he adds with a quirk of his mouth, "I'll come along if I can get away." After all, it might be good for him to get out of the city for a while. It's not always easy to get away from work. Even now, it follows him. 

Zavien blinks and smiles, having asked himself the same question a million times over. "Being Commander means I get to be involved in a lot of different things. It's one of the many benefits of serving the people." His tone is all sincerity, lacking in sarcasm or annoyance despite the time and effort it takes in doing so. 

Taking another sip of his beer, Zavien does his best to move past the responsibilities of leadership and the burden of grief, turning the focus on Iskra. "What brought you to Stormbreak? Were you looking for work or did I interrupt something else?" His gaze flicks to the paper sitting in front of the man, not bothering with the effort of reading it.

And love is good, and life is long,
and friends are best together.

ISKRA

Nodding along to everything Zavien says, and the cost to come once the specs of everything Zavien needs is sent to avoid actually having to figure out economics, Iskra finishes his beer and orders another. "Not all Commanders might think so," he muses, "but the best ones do." He tosses it out casually, because it's no attempt to compliment a man he barely knows off a single sentence. It's just a truth, with some people rising to the top specifically to do as little as possible. A leader does the leading best when they're with the people though.

The bartender slides his latest beer over and Iskra captures it in his palm, lifting it up for a sip as Zavien turns the hot seat around on him. It's more lukewarm though, Iskra not having very much on the line. "Was bringing some wood over for someone else, actually," he laughs around the cup, still poised in his hand. "Missed the last skyship out so staying here for the night, figured I'd fuck about in my favorite tavern while I did." He shrugs, taking another sip.

He doesn't miss the interest in his paper though, and a hand tilts half the page up for inspection. "This is just drivel to keep me busy. Ideas for improving myself, maybe." It's not shame, not exactly, more like uncertainty. "Been trying to get stronger, you see. Thought I'd try writing it down and see if it made any better sense. Mastering magic is no easy task." That no one seems to understand the hows and whys of magic is no smaller part of it. "Also got a quest from Ludo I need to fulfill, so arranging where that will slot in around the date I'm planning and the lumber shipment, now." Not said as any prod, but, it is going on the list now.

Never caught a feelin' this hard — harder than the liquor I pour

Zavien

Strike hands with me. The glass is brim.
The dew is on the heather.

It's hard to say what kind of leader Zavien will be with current situations, but he can at least nod to the sentiment, agreeing with the philosophy of standing by and for his people rather than using the position to his personal advantage. 

Having experienced plenty of skyship delays and issues with timing, Zavien smiles. "Happens to the best of us." The experiences always turn out interesting, meeting new people and forging new memories. There's rarely been a time where he's regretted the change in plans, however, he's sometimes regretted the aches and pains in the morning. "If you decide you want a bed instead of a barstool, there are a few places I could recommend, although Gabe is great company." He looks to the barkeep, raising his beer with a familiar grin, knowing the man would keep the beers coming until the sun rises, if that's what Iskra wants. 

He turns back to the man, still not bothering to try puzzling through what the letters say, but he nods his head regardless, always approving of self-improvement. That doesn't mean he misses how his request impacts those plans, smiling at the transparency. "I hope helping us doesn't give you too much trouble. We're always happy to help in other areas, if that would make anything easier?" Especially if it's something he can do. 

Shrugging his shoulders again, he offers a small chuckle rooted in muscle memory. "Can't say I'd be any help with magic, but I've completed a few quests and planned more than my share of dates." An ache blossoms, fierce enough to make him turn away to find comfort in his bottle, letting Iskra decide if he'll take him up on any of the offers.

And love is good, and life is long,
and friends are best together.

ISKRA

A low laugh escapes him at the offer Zavien extends. "Appreciated, but don't worry yourself, I already secured a room. I don't ride bar stools all night long any more." Could be he's getting too old to physically manage it, or could be he's gotten wiser in his age somehow and recognizes there's a certain point where the answers aren't buried in the bottom of a bottle. They rather seem to be buried in a woman's smile actually, he's come to find.

Dipping back a fair portion of his drink in one go, he sets it down with a turn between his hands. "No trouble," he assures with a smile, glancing up from the spinning of his glass as it stills. "Good to stay busy, I have a lot of work to make up for missing for so long while I sorted through shit." He shrugs, like it's no big deal to him now. He accepts what he feels he owes without hesitation, and though some days are harder, this is a light one.

"Oh yeah?" he tilts his head, because while he's already got most of the date planned, he doesn't want to keep denying all of Zavien's offers. Though, he does plan to head to his bed sooner than later. "Well, planning on a picnic in the Oerworld's Peepholes. Ever been?" It's a quiet ask for Zavien to share his date experience. He sips at his beer expectantly.

Never caught a feelin' this hard — harder than the liquor I pour

Zavien

Strike hands with me. The glass is brim.
The dew is on the heather.

If they had known each other more than five minutes, or if Zavien were sleeping better in his own bed, he might have offered for Iskra to stay at his place, but it was reassuring to hear he didn't plan to spend the entire night perched on a wooden stool. Just the thought has Zavien shifting in his seat, laughing lightly. "Fair. I can only handle a few hours now before I start to lose feeling in my legs."

Propping his elbow on the wood, he lets any worries of overwhelming drift away on the tide of alcohol, smiling and tilting his bottle towards Iskra. "Well, we'll happily help you out there." It's something he can relate to, that desire to push through work, to make up for lost time and get back into the rhythm of it all. He knows that's what he's been doing, knows he's been trying to bury emotions in work, using the excuse of helping his people to keep him from finding a cozy spot in his misery. 

He finishes off the rest of his beer to shake his head. "The Oerwoud? Surprisingly not, although I'm sure it'll be a great spot. I went with the Observatory in the Greatwood for our picnic. It had amazing views of the stars and the surrounding forest without the downside of dirt or animal disturbances." His finger taps slowly against the glass, thinking on the bittersweet memories with a quiet sadness in his eyes. "There's also the Celestine." But he doesn't say more on that, not sure he can confidently recommend the place that had recently proven so deadly. 

Trying not to go down that depressing path, Zavien offers a playful smile, shrugging his shoulders to add the same lame sentiments that everyone does when it comes to dating,"Honestly, as long as the food and company are good, any spot will do the trick."

And love is good, and life is long,
and friends are best together.