Loathe the way they light candles in Rome
But love the sweet air of the votives
But love the sweet air of the votives
It's a long fucking way from Aumakua to the Court of Stars, and Koa is keenly aware of every. single. step. He's trying to move in a way that's simultaneously fluid and hurried, to get his cousin's ass to the fountain without causing more damage than what's already been done. The extent of which Koa has no earthly idea, because while he has enough field medic training to ensure the boy was stable, his knowledge of what a lightning strike might due to one internally is far outside any training he'd ever received. There's a lot he doesn't know right now, but ultimately that doesn't matter.
What matters is what he does know:
1. He'd been heading to the lighthouse when a bolt of electricity thundered out of a cloudless sky.
No, seriously - one minute it had been a cloudless summer evening, the next, BTTZ, a the smell of ozone and flash of light brighter than Safrin's tits. All the hair on Koa's arms had stood up. It had been fucking wild.
2. He'd made it barely 5 more steps when Kaisel pretty much materialized on the beach, looking like badly burnt bbq and smelling even worse.
Like, bad. Bad bad. At first he'd been utterly bewildered, but as Kai slumped over in the sand Koa knew something was utterly wrong. He'd barely even recognized his cousin - his skin was puckered and pink and crispy, his face slack with pain and lack of consciousness, his hair a halo of electrified ends.
3. Kaisel was not dead.
Not that he'd been sure, at first. In those first few moments of stuttering shock between seeing his cousin and landing to his knees beside him, Koa had been absolutely certain he was dead. Terror had gripped him in frigid, skeletal fingers, threatening to rattle him out of any ability to coherently think or speak. Thank fuck for the training that kept him calm in this sort of situation, the ability to compartmentalizing like a boss. It was only that partitioning of his brain that allowed him to see through the tv-static of panic, to perform the motions and assess that oh my god thank fucking Rae and Vi and Mort and Dyrga, the idiot's alive.
4. There is a healing spring back in the Court of Stars.
Which brings us back to the beginning, and the long march across the sand. He'd stripped his own shirt, wrapping makeshift bandages of flamingoes and leaves around the worst of the injuries until his cousin resembled a Florida Fried mummy. Then he'd hauled Kaisel over his shoulder, adjusting the weight as best he could. He hadn't stopped speaking the whole time, hoping his voice would keep his cousin focus, alternating between scolding and cajoling and cheerleading as appropriate. It'd been a long fucking road, but finally, here they were.
"See? Told you we'd fucking make it." Koa stops before the fountain, his knees shaking as he contemplates. He's pretty sure one is meant to drink it, but the idea of setting Kaisel down and then getting a cup and then forcing the water down his throat is absolutely laughable. He's already fucking exhausted, every ounce of his energy and then some spent on getting his cousin here. And so after a moment's hesitation he half-shrugs the shoulder not supporting his cousin and takes a step into the crystalline water. Occam's razor and all that shit.
Shifting Kaisel in his arms with an apology and a wince, Koa cradles his baby cousin against his chest as they both sink into the opts to cool, clear pool. He hopes the way his heart is pounding doesn't injure Kai any more, fears that it's enough to rattle both of them to their bones. "C'mon, kiddo," Koa coaxes, pleads, orders, his fingers leaving rivulets where they stroke his cousin's face. "Open your eyes." Maybe it's messy, and unnecessary, and extra, but Koa isn't taking any chances. The last person he cared about who got electrified fucking died.
He isn't giving anyone else to Mort without a fight.
What matters is what he does know:
1. He'd been heading to the lighthouse when a bolt of electricity thundered out of a cloudless sky.
No, seriously - one minute it had been a cloudless summer evening, the next, BTTZ, a the smell of ozone and flash of light brighter than Safrin's tits. All the hair on Koa's arms had stood up. It had been fucking wild.
2. He'd made it barely 5 more steps when Kaisel pretty much materialized on the beach, looking like badly burnt bbq and smelling even worse.
Like, bad. Bad bad. At first he'd been utterly bewildered, but as Kai slumped over in the sand Koa knew something was utterly wrong. He'd barely even recognized his cousin - his skin was puckered and pink and crispy, his face slack with pain and lack of consciousness, his hair a halo of electrified ends.
3. Kaisel was not dead.
Not that he'd been sure, at first. In those first few moments of stuttering shock between seeing his cousin and landing to his knees beside him, Koa had been absolutely certain he was dead. Terror had gripped him in frigid, skeletal fingers, threatening to rattle him out of any ability to coherently think or speak. Thank fuck for the training that kept him calm in this sort of situation, the ability to compartmentalizing like a boss. It was only that partitioning of his brain that allowed him to see through the tv-static of panic, to perform the motions and assess that oh my god thank fucking Rae and Vi and Mort and Dyrga, the idiot's alive.
4. There is a healing spring back in the Court of Stars.
Which brings us back to the beginning, and the long march across the sand. He'd stripped his own shirt, wrapping makeshift bandages of flamingoes and leaves around the worst of the injuries until his cousin resembled a Florida Fried mummy. Then he'd hauled Kaisel over his shoulder, adjusting the weight as best he could. He hadn't stopped speaking the whole time, hoping his voice would keep his cousin focus, alternating between scolding and cajoling and cheerleading as appropriate. It'd been a long fucking road, but finally, here they were.
"See? Told you we'd fucking make it." Koa stops before the fountain, his knees shaking as he contemplates. He's pretty sure one is meant to drink it, but the idea of setting Kaisel down and then getting a cup and then forcing the water down his throat is absolutely laughable. He's already fucking exhausted, every ounce of his energy and then some spent on getting his cousin here. And so after a moment's hesitation he half-shrugs the shoulder not supporting his cousin and takes a step into the crystalline water. Occam's razor and all that shit.
Shifting Kaisel in his arms with an apology and a wince, Koa cradles his baby cousin against his chest as they both sink into the opts to cool, clear pool. He hopes the way his heart is pounding doesn't injure Kai any more, fears that it's enough to rattle both of them to their bones. "C'mon, kiddo," Koa coaxes, pleads, orders, his fingers leaving rivulets where they stroke his cousin's face. "Open your eyes." Maybe it's messy, and unnecessary, and extra, but Koa isn't taking any chances. The last person he cared about who got electrified fucking died.
He isn't giving anyone else to Mort without a fight.
Koa Carpenter
Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone
Engage with the pain as a motive
Engage with the pain as a motive
