(SE) i think we're haunted

// the edge is getting closer, it's a long spiral down. it's so fun to fly 'til you hit the ground
i think i'm getting too close, i think i'm getting too close //

“It is.” He confirms about expectations of how Paige was doing with Kamaria gone. He follows Maeve, though, heading toward where he might be able to pick up some liquor, still with Edmund resting soundly against his chest. His gaze finds hers when he asks about how Torchline is.

There’s a moment of confusion that lances across his face, not understanding immediately what the Court was, until it registers. “Ah. That’s good.” He takes a deep breath and sighs quietly. “I turned in the monsoon protection as well so you’ll have to let me know how that works, come Longheat.” He offers as his gaze slips away and they reach the space, focusing on reading the labels and types as he decides which to get.

He can’t remember if he’s told her he turned it in or not, so many things were and had been happening. But he works his jaw as he reads the labels, the scar twisting and tugging with the movement.

it's hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands

SUNJATA

"What a shame she's fucked in her head, " they said.

Of course he doesn't realize what she's talking about. He's had so many other things to focus on and he's been eager to wash his hands of this place. The role he played here no longer his to handle and Maeve can't exactly blame him for it. She imagines if the roles were reversed she'd be just as on edge to get out as he was. "I have plans to work on our defenses next. I have thoughts for what to do for that, but nothing's written in stone yet." Another shrug is offered as they slowly make their way towards their next store.

"Yes, I know. I would have gone with you to turn things in, but I knew you were taking Kamaria and Nate was there too. I was worried that perhaps I'd be intruding." It had seemed like a family affair at the time and Maeve knew that even now Nate wasn't her biggest fan. Likely even less so with Locke's disappearance. They were something like friends and she wouldn't be surprised if he blamed her for him running off. Her expression falters and whatever light in her eyes dims as they scan the different labels, picking bottles off the shelf with the intention of reading the labels, but not really seeing anything.

Eventually she settles on a type of gin that boasts claims of sweet honeysuckle notes and a Poli Miele Honey Liqueur. She carries both to the counter, adding a final bottle of something stronger that matches one of his selections, "I'll let you know how it goes, though. I'm sure they'll help a lot. Hopefully with them in place we won't have a repeat of last Longheat."

Maeve

// the edge is getting closer, it's a long spiral down. it's so fun to fly 'til you hit the ground
i think i'm getting too close, i think i'm getting too close //

“What kind of defenses?” He asks, pretending it’s an idle conversation despite the way his mind flickers to the Ascended – to a similar thing that the Grounds had done against the Order, wondering if Maeve would go so far as to prevent the Ascended from stepping foot in Torchline despite knowing she had some kind of friendship with Adam despite the fact. Mostly, he just wonders if it’ll stop him from ever coming back to the land he’d ruled once, the land he’d waited months for holed up in the Hollowed Grounds.

Her comment of coming with and not wanting to intrude sparks a huff of laughter from Sunjata – though it isn’t amused. “It’s probably best you didn’t. Or maybe for my sake it would’ve been better.” A shoulder rises and falls in a shrug, trying his best not to jostle the child in his arms. “I pissed off Safrin that day, so.” And he had tried his best to make it up to her since then.

He picks a few bottles for himself, a couple of different whiskeys – smokey and aged and one that harbors a fruit of some sort while the other is far more vanilla, before he slips up to the counter with her and sets it down – his free hand rising to rest at Edmund’s back as he leans forward to inspect the bottles she’d picked. “Hopefully you won’t.” He agrees quietly, before he's tossing in a few packs of cigarettes into the mixture of what he's chosen.

it's hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands

SUNJATA

"What a shame she's fucked in her head, " they said.

She knows his line of thought and Maeve is quick to squash it. Her intention isn't to defend against the Ascended, but to defend Torchline as a whole. They deserve somewhere safe to live. All of them. "I haven't decided, but a Skyship would be nice. Enough to have a small aerial fleet. It's what Jack wants and I think it would be a good idea." Maeve says the last part with a little huff of laughter that isn't exactly amused. She had no intentions to do something like they had at the Grounds, intent on keeping others out. "I'm open to ideas, though." He might not be leading anymore, but that doesn't mean he lacks knowledge in this department.

His response earns an arched brow and a cocked head, a quizzical light in her eyes before he presses on, [sayn]"Ah, I see. I don't know that my being there would have stopped that from happening. Eve if she does like me." Maeve muses, watching the cigarettes land on the counter as the shop keeper approaches. She gives him a small nod, "You can add them to my tab." She says, waving off Sunjata off before he can protest this favor too, wanting to do this for him.

Maeve

// the edge is getting closer, it's a long spiral down. it's so fun to fly 'til you hit the ground
i think i'm getting too close, i think i'm getting too close //

Brows raise in Maeve’s direction as she mentions a sky ship, curiosity zipping through him. A fleet of aerial ships? It’s an intriguing thought, one that has him pausing before he continues to tack things on. As for having any ideas, he shakes his head immediately — careful of Edmund still resting against his chest. The only thing the child might notice are the earrings that brush against his cheek with the movement. “None really. Sounds like you’ve got it figured out.” And besides, as much as he would love to stay and figure things out with her, it isn’t his job anymore. The stone in his back pocket is evidence enough he needs to definitely not do that.

The shopkeep arrives and Sunjata’s lips are parting right at the time Maeve tacks them onto her own tab, and his steel gaze darts to her as if checking to ensure she’s okay with that. He can pay for them, has no issue bargaining his strength or shifts for the alcohol and cigarettes. But she’s beaten him to it and he ducks his head instead. “Thank you.” He offers as the shopkeep sets to wrapping the alcohol for transport and Sunjata grabs the cigarettes to slip into any available pockets he has.

it's hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands

SUNJATA

"What a shame she's fucked in her head, " they said.

The Nightshade is more than familiar with reading emotions to notice the curiosity spark in his steel gaze, given away by the arching of his brows, but he doesn't add to or question her ideas. Maeve hums softly, lifting slender shoulders in a shrug, "I'm trying. I want to do good by the people here." She says with a soft sincerity, letting out a breath as she considers for a moment that she might not be doing that, but she's trying. Edmund stirs slightly as his earrings brush against his cheek, huffing against his chest, eyes blinking open blearily.

Maeve waves a hand in dismissal, "It's no problem. Consider it a going away gift." She manages a smile, lips curling almost demurely as she packs away her bottles into her basket. Once his own are collected and ready for transport, Maeve takes the canvas bag, hooking it over her shoulder for the time being.

Maeve

// the edge is getting closer, it's a long spiral down. it's so fun to fly 'til you hit the ground
i think i'm getting too close, i think i'm getting too close //

“I’ll tell you now that you’re not going to please everyone.” He offers. She could try as much as she liked but there would always be a few that didn’t agree, didn’t approve. It just depended on how vocal those ones were. But she pays for his items and he has to balance between holding the child and filling his own pack, but he manages it as best he can before he’s slinging the bag onto his shoulder and readjusting Edmund to turn back to Maeve.

“I appreciate it.” He murmurs to her, before he’s stepping out ahead of her, leading the way this time. “I just have one more stop.” He’s sure she’ll follow, if for nothing else because he’s still holding onto her son. And the last stop he has is the first stop he’s made for the day. And then after that? Well, he didn’t entirely know. All he knew was that he hoped the last stop made him feel better.

it's hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands

SUNJATA

"What a shame she's fucked in her head, " they said.

That's something she knows full well. Years of customer service work has prepared her for such things. Maeve huffs a soft laugh, giving him a knowing look, "I'm well aware. Believe it or not I've dealt with an unhappy customer or two in my time." She teases, a smile playing on her lips as they slip out the door, their new purchases secured.

"Of course, Jata." Comes the quiet reply. Almost lost to the din of the docks as they step back out into port. This time she's the one who follows, shifting around a few people to catch up to his side, "We'll do that first and then get my firewood." She knows what this is for. It's what he'd come here for in the first place when she ran into him. The least she can do is be there for him during this as well.

Maeve

// the edge is getting closer, it's a long spiral down. it's so fun to fly 'til you hit the ground
i think i'm getting too close, i think i'm getting too close //

A snort leaves him as he nods, guiding the way to the next stop. “I can imagine.” He offers her as he weaves through the crowds that are slowly beginning to disperse given the time of day. It wasn’t entirely a smart move to be out in the Port during the evening for most people anyway, but Sunjata knows enough about the land and people that he knows they’ll be fine.

She agrees to his choice of stop and he readjusts Edmund into his other arm as it begins to fall asleep, trying to make sure he doesn’t wake up or jostle too much. Upon entering, the shopkeep steps into the back before returning with a project Sunjata’s been waiting to see. It’s a woven tapestry of sorts, complete in the teal and black and white of his companion, with a wolf designed on the front and the tassels made of left behind feathers he’d collected from her.

Something tightens in his heart, into the lines of his face, and he reluctantly pulls his gaze away from it to look up at the crafter. “Thank you. This is better than I could have imagined.” His voice is tight but he does reach out with his free hand to rub along the edges of the fabric.

it's hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands

SUNJATA

"What a shame she's fucked in her head, " they said.

Her comment earns her a snort and it's one of the few almost laughs she's gotten from him. A feat considering his current emotional state. The Nightshade is more than aware of the heaviness weighing on him and she hopes that this is a good enough distraction to ease things for a short time. The market is beginning to clear out and those that linger know well enough not to mess with either of them. Despite the fact that Sunjata and Maeve aren't involved in the way they were before the knowledge of the former governor and dragon of Torchline being a close friend of the Nightshade's is enough to ward off anyone's unwanted advances. Pair that with the fact that Maeve is also tied Jack and it's a deadly combination. It pays to have friends in high and low places.

Edmund fusses for only a moment as Sunjata shifts him in his hold, moving him to the other arm, but the babe settles soon enough. He doesn't fall asleep, instead lifting his head and looking around, balancing himself with a hand on Sunjata's shoulder. Blue eyes flick back and forth, going from Maeve to Sunjata, dark brows knitting together as they step into the shop. Maeve stays by his side, quiet support as they wait for the craftsman to come out with the memorial piece and when he does, her lips curl into a soft smile and a pang goes through her heart at the sight of it.

Maeve reaches up to place a hand on his back, "It's beautiful, Jata. Very fitting for her." She murmurs, her thumb rubbing gently back and forth over one of the notches of his spine, a quiet comfort in this moment. Perhaps it's inappropriate, but it's always been a natural instinct for her to offer support through touch. Something she thrives on herself.

Maeve

// the edge is getting closer, it's a long spiral down. it's so fun to fly 'til you hit the ground
i think i'm getting too close, i think i'm getting too close //

Edmund doesn’t fuss and Sunjata’s quietly thankful for that, even if he has woken the child up. It’s likely he won’t end up sleeping tonight because of it, though he figures (unfortunately for Maeve) that it isn’t a problem for him, so much. As it stands, though, he’s quite distracted by the tapestry that’s made and when Maeve approaches and rests her hand along his spine, she’ll feel the edge of a shark bite scar, and the skin and spine beneath it tense as can be.

He works his jaw after he offers his thanks, before he’s reaching for it to fold it up and complete the payment with the crafter, one who’s given him quite a deal given the things he’d done for Torchline in his time, and with it Sunjata can only dip his head in agreement, placing the tapestry in the bag along with the bottles of alcohol, before his gaze drifts to Maeve. “I thought it would be.” He agrees hoarsely, a slight glassy sheen to his gaze that he blinks away.

And after a few heartbeats more, he’s controlled himself back into the calm quiet stone of a man that might have one day made his father proud. “Firewood?” He asks, letting her take the lead again.

it's hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands

SUNJATA

"What a shame she's fucked in her head, " they said.

He likely won't sleep, but to be fair, neither will she. Sleep was hard to come by before, but with Locke gone it's even more difficult. There is very little to help her into slumber these days. With the fact that she's not taking clients there isn't a way to physically wear herself out aside from training. Something she does, but not as often as before with Edmund to watch. Her stare of being is too twisted up to unwind and it's wrecking havoc in other parts of her life. This week it's her sleep. Next week it might be something else.

The Nightshade feels him tense, but then again, he already was. Her fingers trace over familiar notches in his spine and even more familiar scars, recalling a time she traced them with her lips. The thought comes despite herself, but it's quickly dismissed. Easy enough to do when the sole purpose is to comfort. No, the Flood isn't hers to entice and she knows better than to play that game anymore. Those feelings well behind her now. Even if she does occasionally miss the comfort that was being with him. Some things are better left alone. This was one of them.

"You were right." Maeve murmurs in agreement, drawing her hand away and instead drifting towards the door with Sunjata trailing behind her once more. "Yes, firewood. Then it's back home to get that one bathed and fed." She wrinkles her nose at the babe who coos back, offering a gummy smile as he wakes up a bit more, his free hand finding one of Sunjata's locks of hair and hanging onto it.

Maeve

// the edge is getting closer, it's a long spiral down. it's so fun to fly 'til you hit the ground
i think i'm getting too close, i think i'm getting too close //

He knows what it’s like to be plagued by many things to where you can’t sleep. Whether it’s nightmares of restlessness, he’s lucky to catch sleep when he can, when it isn’t offered by the help of one of the bottles in his bag. And despite Nate’s attempts to help him sleep there’s only so much the demigod can do to sway away the depression losing Haai has sunk him into.

At the very least he has this fitting tribute to her — something he can look to and remember all the happy memories they’d had. He still even has that tiny scar on his finger from the day she hatched.

He’s both there in the moment and not as he follows Maeve, as Edmund latches onto a lock of brown curls. Sunjata focuses on the route they take and that’s that. “How much do you need?” He asks, wondering if it’s an amount that will need to be hauled, and at the very least he’s got a couple of shifts that can help with that.

it's hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands

SUNJATA

"What a shame she's fucked in her head, " they said.

They were haunted. Incredibly so. Neither one of them able to settle. Neither one able to escape nightmares and tragedy. People like them had it in their blood. It was written in the stars and carved into their bones. At least Sunjata had someone to go through it. He has Nate. And Maeve? Well, she had Edmund and that would have to do now, wouldn't it?

"We'll be getting a weekly delivery, but I need some to tide me over for a few nights." They might need him to haul, but it wouldn't be anything he couldn't handle. Edmund, not one to be ignored, gives his hair a little tug. The trio heads for their next stop, the sun starting to sink down beneath the horizon, painting the sky with a vibrant sunset and bringing a new chill to the air.

Maeve