I'll drown eventually so don't save me
It shouldn't be funny. It really wasn't, really, except Maea understood the overehelming chaos and madness in Sunjata's predicaments all too well, and she coughed to disguise the startled laugh that threatened to spill out.
"Ah, yes. It might be that. Then, given how I was eaten by a Ghost whale, busted out of Mort's realm to Ascend and then became Ancient and spent a few years as a stone statue, there must be hope for me too." A pale brow rose, testing his own willingness to laugh.
Maea knew she wasn't quite at the point where these things had ceased to bother her yet. Saying it out loud was enough to make her head spun, Sunjata being right there in front of her was like having her insides seared over hot coals and the coiling pit viper of self-contempt slithered through her bowels as usual... But she was alive. Alive, alive, and she kept breathing and sensing the ground under her hands, the water at her feet - and even though the Flood smelled of whiskey and sunlight and freedom, she had yet to either kiss him or punch him.
And if she was stuck halfway between creation and destruction, child of Dygra in love with all of Caido's creations... so what? She could figure it out. Somehow. She could learn. If Sunjata could... he had always been the bigger mess between the two of them. It shouldn't be half as difficult for her to change.
"Biggest problem is, I don't really know what to do differently," she admitted. "All the things I used to want lie behind burned bridges. My magic, Halo - " you. "I don't know what to do with myself, or where to be, or how to find out."
Petronella came clambering towards her, and Maea grew very still as clumsy paws made the transition. Her own shoulders were far smaller and narrower than Sunjata's, and it took some positioning before the heavy weight settled across her neck and shoulders. Warmth bloomed against Maea's skin, slightly wet and smelling of cats and oceans; very carefully she raised her hands to pet the companion. Unsure of what to do. Half reluctant to accept that it felt good, that she enjoyed being touched - even by an animal.
Searching Jata for answers, she perceived the difference in him, like a stillness on the surface of a pond. Currents might still rage beneath, but in this moment at least, he seemed more himself than she'd ever seen before.
And she wouldn't be human if she didn't feel stabs of regret for what she'd lost. What could have been.
"What are you doing, these days?" Just a little bit of self-torment was fine. Just for today.
"Ah, yes. It might be that. Then, given how I was eaten by a Ghost whale, busted out of Mort's realm to Ascend and then became Ancient and spent a few years as a stone statue, there must be hope for me too." A pale brow rose, testing his own willingness to laugh.
Maea knew she wasn't quite at the point where these things had ceased to bother her yet. Saying it out loud was enough to make her head spun, Sunjata being right there in front of her was like having her insides seared over hot coals and the coiling pit viper of self-contempt slithered through her bowels as usual... But she was alive. Alive, alive, and she kept breathing and sensing the ground under her hands, the water at her feet - and even though the Flood smelled of whiskey and sunlight and freedom, she had yet to either kiss him or punch him.
And if she was stuck halfway between creation and destruction, child of Dygra in love with all of Caido's creations... so what? She could figure it out. Somehow. She could learn. If Sunjata could... he had always been the bigger mess between the two of them. It shouldn't be half as difficult for her to change.
"Biggest problem is, I don't really know what to do differently," she admitted. "All the things I used to want lie behind burned bridges. My magic, Halo - " you. "I don't know what to do with myself, or where to be, or how to find out."
Petronella came clambering towards her, and Maea grew very still as clumsy paws made the transition. Her own shoulders were far smaller and narrower than Sunjata's, and it took some positioning before the heavy weight settled across her neck and shoulders. Warmth bloomed against Maea's skin, slightly wet and smelling of cats and oceans; very carefully she raised her hands to pet the companion. Unsure of what to do. Half reluctant to accept that it felt good, that she enjoyed being touched - even by an animal.
Searching Jata for answers, she perceived the difference in him, like a stillness on the surface of a pond. Currents might still rage beneath, but in this moment at least, he seemed more himself than she'd ever seen before.
And she wouldn't be human if she didn't feel stabs of regret for what she'd lost. What could have been.
"What are you doing, these days?" Just a little bit of self-torment was fine. Just for today.
Maea
