[SE] what in carnation

Melita

I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles

Beginning to work on another with different hues, this time oranges and reds, she snorted at his next response – now wholeheartedly convinced she needed to tease and taunt. Turnabout was fair play and all that. Or something. “Yes. A fine excuse,” she tutted behind her teeth, fingers angling over stems and petals once more, reeling them together far quicker, now that her grasp had gotten the hang of it again.

She watched his expression as he took the crown though, brow arching as he seemed to have a difficult time surmising the circumstances. Maybe that was a plausible thing too – Melita wasn’t renowned for gift giving or anything resembling niceties. “Very dashing,” went with her Cheshire grin – he’d probably have to check for himself if it was suitable or not. “Maybe necromancers really like ‘em,” she granted on an air of capricious shit-stirring, wrinkling her nose and winking.

and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me

// now we are hanging out in the backyard //

“It better be.” Sunjata drawls with a huff of a laugh – knowing that she’s probably seeing right through the lines Sunjata’s given. He doesn’t want it to seem like he’s moving on – though it’s hard to do without a heart. And perhaps, all that talk she’d given him before about getting it back so he didn’t miss out on anything had something to do with a certain dark haired necromancer.

Luckily, the thought vanishes for the moment in favor for the blue flower crown as he sets it up on his head, shooting her a playful grin and pleased entirely that it’s there. Relaxing to watch as she starts to put together a crown of different colors, Sunjata plucks a few flowers from her pile to put together a crowning jewel type of piece she could adorn the crown with, wrapping smaller pale yellow flowers around the stem of a larger orange one.

When she maybe necromancers really like them, Sunjata shoots her a playful and small shit eating grin for all the shit she’s stirring, but he sighs a little playfully. “Maybe. I’ll let you know.” He can stir the shit too, and as he hands her the flower he’d crafted, he sticks his tongue out at her.

the heartless

// looking at a new point of view //

Melita

I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles

Melita had known her uncle far too long to fathom something wasn’t underfoot; heartless or not. She’d seen him charmed and tempted by the likes of Phoebe and Maea (both which she detested), then Nate, Ru segmenting in there somewhere on cycles and interims, and then others in between she’d likely forgotten or remained nameless. There was always the case to be made for the particular Frey’s side of employment he conjured and utilized, but in the same regards, she really wanted him content and happy for a change. Instead of dragged along and broken, used and castoff. “Dunno, probably have heard better,” she teased again, segmenting another stem and flower, weaving it amongst its brethren.

She arched her brow at him, watching for a moment as he grabbed some and began contorting something himself, and she hummed thereafter, taking careful orchestration of her measures. At his response though, she granted a cackle. “Yes, please do, but leave some bits out.” She didn’t want all the details of impending sex Frey demigod adventures.

As he handed the flower over, she gave a wink and added it to the front, before modeling it herself. “Figured Iskra would like this one.” She could make something matching for herself if this turned out decently.

and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me

// now we are hanging out in the backyard //

He rolls his eyes a little, though the amused smile that sticks to the corner of his lips proves that he isn’t too serious about her teasing. It was nice, that after so many conversations between them in the past harboring judgement of one another – whether it was her judging him or him trying to atone one way or another – that the continued ease of conversation between them made it feel a little more like home, even if they weren’t in his region.

Though, when he offers his own tease back, that he’d let her know what certain necromancers thought about blue flower crowns, Sunjata’s head tilts slightly in thought. “Maybe, if you’re lucky.” He teases her, watching as she takes the flower he’d crafted like a jewel and adds it to the front to weave into the rest of the fiery crown. As for Iskra liking it, Sunjata’s brow lifts slightly. “I could see that.” He pauses, standing suddenly with the blue flower crown nestled into his grey and brown streaked hair, stepping back over to the cart with the flowers to get some black, grey, and white florals.

He returns with his own little pile nestled in his lap. “How are things between you two?” He asks, figuring out where to start now that she’s inspired him to make a crown specifically for the necromancer.

the heartless

// looking at a new point of view //

Melita

I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles

Oh, Melita still judged, but she liked to think she’d learned from the past – however slowly. Considering his side of decisions and notions maintained its difficulty for her; namely because she would’ve chosen other sides and fixtures. But she also couldn’t manage the motions for him. They were all things he’d have to overcome and decide in his own time, no matter how emboldened, mulish, or hardheaded her actions and words came across. So, maybe she’d just opted to roll her eyes in his sight, then sigh around others.

“If I’m lucky?” she snorted, as if the statement was absurd. It didn’t lessen her work though, managing to maintain a line of study on the crown, eyes narrowing before pushing back a petal or rearranging a stem. When he didn’t muster approval or not, she huffed, then narrowed her gaze when he went to snag other flowers – snorting under the prowess of her daring suggestions.

When he returned, she’d already begun orchestrating her own, but the choice between flowers had become a bit layered and nuanced. Hands on her hips, she’d separated some golden and red fixtures from the pack she’d already purchased before the question registered, and by then her head had whipped up and she pretended her cheeks weren’t a vibrant shade of pink. “Good.” More than that, actually, but she didn’t quite know how to frame it and her uncle didn't need to know everything. “I spent a week in Halo and he spent LongNight in Torchline.” And neither of them had killed each other, so. “I felt bad – there’s so much shit going on now that I kinda dumped all the information on him.”

and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me

// now we are hanging out in the backyard //

“You heard me.” Sunjata says with a laugh, warm and comfortable as he departs to collect the bundle of flowers. Upon his return, he pulls them apart to organize them in the varying shades of black, grey, and white, thinking that the dark green stems made a nice addition to the otherwise colorless crown. That, and it matched the interior of Niki’s new home.

Either way, he starts putting them together – winding stems around stems, recalling what Melita had done and trying his best to imitate it. He’s never made a flower crown before, and to watch her put it together has him thinking he can at least give it a solid try. He makes a kind of gradient, keeping the white and greys toward the front and starts to fill in the back sides of it with grey fading into black as he listens to her answer his question. “Yeah?” Sunjata hums, chewing on his cheek a little before he glances over at her. “Sucks being a demigod. Whoever’s with us kinda gets the brunt of it.” He laments, knowing full well that he’d dumped quite a bit on everyone else he’d been with (namely Nate, Isla, and Hotaru). “How did he take it?”

the heartless

// looking at a new point of view //

Melita

I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles

When he wasn’t looking, she made a face like the spongebob meme, and then started snagging at the gilded flowers, weaving them amongst red, and then opting for a furnished orange. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he began striving with the same techniques, so she purposefully went slower.

The statement made her sigh though, enough to puff her cheeks outward and descend on a slow unwinding of air and irritation. “Yeah. I think for a while I was just allowed to dick around and do whatever.” Which, in all fairness, she could still do, but with her own herald gone and a sudden mountain of occurrences shaping around them, the mere idea of kicking back and chucking rubber ducks at passersby didn’t have quite the same ring to it. “Responsibilities kinda suck ass,” she blurted in her blunt veracity.

Iskra’s involvement had been one of bewilderment, initially. Couldn’t say she blamed him for it either. “Seemed really surprised at first – I probably said a lot of things that didn’t make much sense. He took it better later, when there was time to actually consider everything.” She paused, nose wrinkling. “Because it’s better to tell them, right? Rather than just…not, and then if shit goes sideways,” she waved a free hand around, as if that pinpointed the notions she was trying to put together.

and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me

// now we are hanging out in the backyard //

Her mockery of yOu HeArD mE goes unfortunately unnoticed, but he does see and appreciate the way she starts to go slower with the weaving of the flower crown so he can keep up. He mirrors her motions, listening as the conversation shifts toward less fun things – demigod responsibilities and the weight they had to bury for being so close to their gods. The bridge that they were between everyone and the divine.

“Isn’t that kinda Ludo’s thing, though?” He asks about her dicking around, but he does pause in the weaving of his flower crowns to glance over at her just in time to hear her blurt out that responsibilities suck ass which sparks a deep laugh of agreement and surprise from Sunjata’s throat. “Yeah. They really fuckin’ do.” He agrees, softening a little as he adds a darker flower to the side, weaving it in when he asks about Iskra and listens.

Nodding and pausing in his flower crown making, he tilts his head toward her. “It is. Even if it seems stupid. I’m pretty sure I learned that from you.” He nudges her lightly with his elbow before he picks up the flower crown again but doesn’t start on weaving a flower back into it yet. “I tried to keep things quiet for a while but it never did me any favors. Just dug myself a much deeper hole and had a harder time to get out of it.” He shrugs, his fingers running along the edge of the crown. “I’m always here, too, if you need to talk about any of it. I know what it’s like.”

the heartless

// looking at a new point of view //

Melita

I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles

Her fingers, while still nimble and formidable with the long stems and petals, traced over the foundation with deliberate measures in his line of sight – sometimes going over them several times before moving on to next steps. “Well, yeah,” she scoffed at the ‘Ludo thing’ of it all. “Except now it’s disappeared, so,” she’d taken it upon herself to ensure it could be plucked away and back to where it belonged. Which was stalled out for the moment, while gathering information and necessities before she could beeline back to Mort. “Besides, I have a hard time with continuing fun shit while I know it’s gone. I know I’m supposed to, but, worrying and all that.” As if she couldn’t quite keep up a ready façade of amusements and water balloons and mildly disastrous exploits, if her herald was still in the midst of this enigmatic mystery. “Does that make any sense?” she glanced back at him, understanding it wasn’t quite the same for Frey exploits.

Snorting at the notions that she’d given him said testaments, she then huffed a sigh, adding another crimson flower amongst the gold. “Listen, sometimes I take my own advice.” As she nudged him back with her own elbow, eyes narrowing in concentration, trying to wage war with feelings and the tides of impending clarity. “I also feel bad when it’s a constant onslaught of shit though. I imagine it gets fuckin’ old listening to ‘hey guess what else happened today’.” Or all at once. But at his offer, she tucked another smile on her face, likely not lingering for long, but there just the same. “Thanks. I think I’ll feel better once I have more information and I can talk to Mort again.” Perhaps get a plan going.

and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me

// now we are hanging out in the backyard //

Having forgotten momentarily that Ludo had vanished, Sunjata’s smile twitches toward a frown – knowing that it had to be tough to not know where it could be – to the point that even the gods didn’t know where it was. And knowing just how close Melita was to it made it worse. After all, if Frey was missing, Sunjata was sure he’d also be anxious about it, wondering what the fuck was happening and what he could do to try and fix it.

Nodding as she glances at him, though, he can read between the lines. “Yeah. Hard to keep on like nothing’s wrong when it feels like everything could be fucked. Feels like it’s wrong.” He knew that feeling – and while it wasn’t the same as the gods going missing, Sunjata’s reminded of a similar feeling while Nate was away at the war he never came back from, while Sunjata was supposed to thrive and live in the comfort of the Refuge he’d created.

Puffing a little sigh past his lips alongside her own, Sunjata continues to work on weaving the flowers together, working his jaw in thought. He nudges her and she nudges him back, and the Heartless settles back into the bench. “Yeah, it definitely can be. But I like to think people like to be informed rather than bottling it up, even if it’s a lot. And, at the very least, means you don’t have to be the one to hold it all together. You’ve got other people to help share the burden.” He looks over at her, warmth in the steel of his eyes. “I’ll always help support the weight. You know that. And if you want any company seeing any of the gods to ask, I’m happy to help. Even if it’s just another ear to retain the information.” He points to his pierced ear, where the hEAR sits and shoots her a small smile.

the heartless

// looking at a new point of view //

Melita

I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles

“Exactly,” she snapped her fingers back towards him as he summarized the situation succinctly. And perhaps some portion wondered why so many others just didn’t seem to care. Maybe Ludo wasn’t amongst the most popular – but if a herald could vanish and disappear, wouldn’t the masses be worried for the ones they favored? Safrin had been infected once. Seasonal gods had been trapped. The possibilities weren’t outrageous. “But we’ll see,” she shrugged, like it wasn’t eating away at her.

Finishing up on the other crown, she turned it over upon inspection, listening as he settled further into the bench. Melita wasn’t the type to hold much of anything together except her own wits and fortitude; relying on anyone else had never been something she snagged until recently, and even then, when it was still fresh and new, it belabored and beleaguered in the back of her mind, drawn as if discomforting instead of sheltering. She glanced at him to find his warm gaze on her, and she sighed, trying to fit everything where the pieces fell, not disjointed but together. “I guuuuuesss,” came on a petulant sigh, but then she swung her smile back. “I’ll let you know what the next step is after.” Her eyes shifted towards the circlet in his hands, then tucking some wayward pieces along her own.

and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me

// now we are hanging out in the backyard //

“That we will.” Sunjata agrees a little softer – knowing that with the bravado his niece often spoke about things, that it would tear her up inside until she knew whether or not Ludo was going to be okay. And apart from the wisdom he’s shared, there isn’t much else he can do to try and help her other than continue to offer to be there for her to talk to.

For now, though, the crowns come together and with her slower motions, he’s picked up quite a rhythm until his black, grey, and white flower crown is complete. It looks beautiful, and as he lifts it to inspect it, he adjusts the blue one sat on his head to make sure it doesn’t fall off, looking over at her when he makes his offer to be there for her.

Whether or not she takes it to heart is up to her, but he’s offered it out now. And when she says she’ll let him know what the next step is, he shoots her a warm smile and a nod. “Sounds good.” He draws quiet then, at least until they’ve managed to fully finish all the crowns. “You wanna go get some food?” He asks suddenly, realizing he’s starving and the scent of some café nearby has wafted over enough for him to suddenly crave whatever dumpling thing they’ve created and are advertising.

With the flower crowns tucked away, the two abandon their perches on the bench and go and see what kind of food awaits them in the rest of the Inner Quarter.

- FIN

the heartless

// looking at a new point of view //