I drip and I pour

SUNJATA

the flood

you killed a man there, and i cried
but the rain masked the hurt behind your face

Perhaps it should be a reminder for the future – though it’s unlikely Sunjata will feel it as heavily as Niki might hope. It was different when people did it for themselves versus someone else helping, and Sunjata was firmly in the latter camp. He only felt better because he wasn’t alone in having to deal with the clean up, and Niki’s expert attention and focus on the nooks and crannies had helped him feel like he’s seen at the very least, and sometimes that is all you need. “Yeah.” He says instead with a little huff as he sips from the coffee.

“Oh I’ve had some bad coffee before. I’m glad you’ve never suffered through it.” Sunjata says, a small little wry smile crossing his face as he replaces humor with the bitterness of everything in his chest. “And yeah, hazelnut cream. Toffee is good too, though.” He points out as he busies himself with the cloth on his tattoo, swiping away black mark after black mark until he’s sure his arm and hand are clean, dunking the rag in the bowl as Niki’s surprise reaches him.

He looks up almost surprised for a second, confusion – because they had moved once upon a time, back when he’d been owned by Safrin. But as he looks back down at his arm to see everything still if not a bit wet, the realization hits him. “Oh, no, they don’t move. I have a magic that makes more tattoos when I’m wet.” The answer comes out a little bluntly, even if the wording could be misconstrued in any other conversation, and as he flicks his fingers and the water draws away from his skin so too do the floral tattoos spread within the actual ink on his skin.

For the demonstration, though, Sunjata looks up at Niki briefly as a thought occurs. “I’ll show you.” He murmurs, lowering the still slightly ashy lightning scarred hand, free from tattoos. A ribbon of water rises from the bowl to spread across his forearm, dripping it wet with water, and as it runs off his skin dark floral patterns begin to emerge on his skin.

by the way, dear, we're alive
and it hurts 'cause we survived it

NIKI

"Or perhaps I just do not know what bad coffee tastes like," Niki suggests with a dry smile over a fresh sip of his drink and a soft shrug of his shoulders. "Mm, I will trust your judgement on that," he decides of toffee and hazelnut, setting the cup back down. Evidently a purist when it comes to his caffeine intake, he leaves the matter at that. Besides, there's something more curious going on with the ink blooming to life and disappearing on Sunjata's skin.

"Oh, forgive me," he says. "From here it almost looked as though they were moving." He follows the other man's movements from the basin of water to his forearm as he conjures a slip of water to soak his skin, Niki's eyes widening at the sudden florals that appear. "How fun," he says before he can stop himself, his smile a little crooked as he sits back in the booth.

"Did you get to decide what shapes would appear, or was that up to Frey? I presume it is another gift from Frey anyway," he adds, trying not to think of how Sunjata must look if he's caught in a downpour unawares or if he goes swimming. (For more than one reason).

my body's on the line now, I can't fight this time now
I can feel the light shine on my face

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

SUNJATA

the flood

you killed a man there, and i cried
but the rain masked the hurt behind your face

“You’re a lucky man, then.” Sunjata says, managing to find the smile that grows easier on his face. He nods shortly after the abandoned says he’ll trust his judgement on it – figuring that sugar wasn’t really in the other man’s preferences for coffee would make enough sense that he would take his word for it.

As for his tattoos and the passive magic, Sunjata nods with a small snort. “It’s okay. They used to move, back when I was under Safrin.” It was an easy mistake to make, when the baseline of his tattoos had once harbored infinite stars that moved like stars passing in the night. “It is fun, yeah.” Especially when he forgets about it and suddenly realizes it when his hands and legs are often painted in those dark floral designs – roses to lilies and everything in between.

As for deciding, he withdraws the water with his magic from the lightning scarred arm until it’s a blank slate again apart from the scars before he’s dipping the cloth in to try and clean up the majority of the ash from this side – finding it more of a task with the way his skin is raised in those arching branches of electricity from years ago. “It is a gift from Frey. And no, I didn’t really know about it until one day it just happened. I like the flowers, though. It’s a nice soft opposite of all the scars I have.” He smiles with the thought – that having something beautiful like that offset the brutality of the scars, a careful balancing act of resilience. “I don’t think I would have chosen to do anything else if I had the option, though.” He admits, glancing up at Niki in between clearing up more ash to see what he thinks of that answer.

by the way, dear, we're alive
and it hurts 'cause we survived it

NIKI

"I do not think I have ever been called lucky before," Niki says, quietly amused by the prospect. "In this, though, I will take it." He might be a crippled orphan living alone in the woods after the death of the undertaker who had raised him, but he's never had a bad cup of coffee. It's the little things, right?

Nodding gently to hear Sunjata's clarification - he knows of the other man's time under Safrin, mainly from rumour and reputation, and it's a dark enough tale that he wisely opts to leave it well enough alone. "That must have been a surprise," he remarks, well able to see the Heartless in his mind's eye, puzzled over the suddden appearance of flowers on damp skin.

He doesn't know why it surprises him to hear that Sunjata likes the floral patterns for their softness, but it has his own expression growing a little more thoughtful, his right hand grazing across his left forearm where the majority of the heavy scarring sits on the limb. Niki blinks, then, as if realising his sleeves are still rolled up, and he absently tugs them back down again as he nods to the other man.

"They suit you," he says, and it's unclear whether he's speaking of the scars or the flowers. "And if nothing else, the scars tell a story. You are still here at the end of them, after all."

my body's on the line now, I can't fight this time now
I can feel the light shine on my face

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

SUNJATA

the flood

you killed a man there, and i cried
but the rain masked the hurt behind your face

Sunjata knows the feeling – of whether or not he’s been lucky enough to be called it. People have tried, but given his track record he feels everything but lucky – bad cups of coffee included. Instead, he focuses on the next comment, figuring Niki means to continue to talk about Sunjata’s surprise floral tattoos. “Oh, it was.” The memory sparks a soft little laugh – though he’d been a bit occupied with his deity at the time to fully appreciate it.

Later, though, he enjoyed testing them out and seeing them come to life.

He notes the way Niki seems to study the scars he’s working to clean up, the way the sleeves get tugged down with a bit of interest. And while he thinks he’s words might not mean much to him (he didn’t know just how many scars Niki has, but he’d seen those that criss crossed his arms), it was easy for him to flash him a small smile as he sets the cloth down and lifts his mug of coffee to his lips, taking a deep sip. “It was a big deal back home.” He murmurs. “Scars, that is. Tattoos were super taboo and honestly worth getting disowned if you had them.” His nose wrinkles briefly before he sets the mug down.

“In the section of Korofi I grew up in, scars were like… Rights of passage.” He thinks he might have told him back then when the mention of the scar on his wing had come up, though he can’t fully recall. Nearly dying so many times had taken a toll on his memory, sue him. “You wore them proudly because you’d earned them. The whole… What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? It’s why I can’t make myself get rid of any of them.” His gaze drops down to the scars on his hands, the palm of his right hand where one scar sits starkly across the interior like he’d taken a blade to it. “I did get rid of one.. but. It was for the best, I think. I didn’t want to remember that one.”

by the way, dear, we're alive
and it hurts 'cause we survived it

NIKI

Drawing his cup of coffee in front of him properly now, Niki curls his fingers around the ceramic to enjoy the warmth radiating out from it. "It was?" He raises his eyebrows at that - whether Sunjata knows it or not given his memory, this is the necromancer's first time hearing the lore behind Korofi and its scars. "That is a strange way of looking at it - tattoos and scars are similar in a lot of ways, no?"

Not that it seems to have affected Sunjata regardless - he's got as much ink as he has scar tissue, from all that Niki has observed so far. (And no, we shan't be discussing how much he has observed or how detailed those observations have been, thank you). Still, as the Heartless continues, as he speaks of choosing to get rid of his scars, Niki can't help the slightly bitter slant to his smile as he gazes into his coffee.

"Would that it was so easy to do such a thing," he says; an advantage of demigodhood, he supposes. "Still, I can understand the sentiment, even if I am not sure I can subscribe to it. Sometimes scars do not make you stronger." You might still be here to bear them, but not necessarily the same person you were before them.

my body's on the line now, I can't fight this time now
I can feel the light shine on my face

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

SUNJATA

the flood

you killed a man there, and i cried
but the rain masked the hurt behind your face

“They are.” Sunjata agrees softly, his lips smiling softly. “Between us I think the old texts thought the addition of ink made it tainted.” He snorts, because he can recall a variety of places you could go and get scars. Even if that was somewhat frowned upon back then, it was less so than tattoos. “I got the wings as my first little rebelliousness.” He says, rising up to gesture to his shoulders where the navy wing tattoos sit and move with each arm movement like pauldrons.

He can sense the change in the conversation, though, and he debates whether or not to comment more on his experience with it or to blatantly ask Niki about his own. The way he looks into his cup of coffee like it’s a mirror of all the things in his mind he can’t quite filter down right. “I’ve never really subscribed to it, personally.” He admits, finding some common ground within it. “Some habits are hard to get rid of, though.” His brows pinch, lips pursing for a moment as he considers it, before he looks back up at Niki from where he’d kind of zoned out in the general direction of the other man’s neck.

“Would you get rid of scars if you had a chance to?” He doesn’t mention whether or not he’d seen Niki’s – though they’re nearly impossible to miss. It’s an offer he lets Niki divulge on his own terms, much like how he’s had the kindness to do the same for the Heartless.

by the way, dear, we're alive
and it hurts 'cause we survived it

NIKI

"Tainted," Niki repeats, trying and failing to hide his smirk even if it's directed now into his cup of coffee, and he soon lifts it to his lips again as if he might stand a chance at hiding his amusement. "If you ever happen to remember one of your old texts in the library you can conjure in the House of Midnight, I would be interested in reading it." Taking a long, slow sip of his drink, his eyes finally flick up to track the wings he can easily imagine span all across the demigod's back.

"Most habits are, from what I have heard," he agrees, lowering his cup and expecting, almost, for the conversation to bounce along to something different. But as Sunjata outright asks the question, Niki surprises even himself with the immediacy of his response. "Yes I would," he says, feeling heat rush to his cheeks but ploughing onwards, since he's begun.

"Some scars are not earned. They exist simply because things were done to you. I do not imagine many people would keep those, if they were given the option to remove them."

my body's on the line now, I can't fight this time now
I can feel the light shine on my face

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

SUNJATA

the flood

you killed a man there, and i cried
but the rain masked the hurt behind your face

“Hah, I’ll try. I can’t guarantee it’ll make that much sense, though.” He offers with a small smile, one that he hopes improves the conversation briefly lest they all fall into the depths of the sorrow and darkness that linger in the background of the conversation. It doesn’t help much, as he finds out. Especially when he’s nodding to the mention of habits being hard to break.

He, too, is surprised however to hear Niki’s immediate answer – the assurance in there that makes him think that the scars on his arms weren’t of anything Niki had a choice in, and there’s some amount of reason to believe that Sunjata can understand that, too. “I get that.” He says softly, maybe not to the extent that Niki means it, but his lips purse slightly as he thinks, a notable scar on his cheek being something that he’d had no choice in the matter of.

Along with the one on his neck. Held down as he was back then for that scar, there was very little he could do. “Some scars are more traumatic than anything else and definitely go deeper than just the skin.” He looks away from Niki out toward the rest of the café, his hand subconsciously reaching up to cover the faint one on his neck he’d tattooed partially over with the compass.

by the way, dear, we're alive
and it hurts 'cause we survived it

NIKI

Already feeling self-conscious by what Niki certainly considers an outburst by his own standards, the necromancer's fingers almost clutch around his coffee mug as if to give himself something to hold onto and ground himself. "You could certainly say that," he agrees quietly, eyes flicking up only briefly to catch the way Sunjata's hand drifts across the side of his neck. He doesn't remark on it, knowing he'd not want to draw attention if the roles were reversed, and so instead he forces in a long breath, sighs it out again, and conjures a smile.

"I did not mean to bring down the mood," he says apologetically; especially not having found Sunjata already looking quite morose outside in the square. And so instead the necromancer offers a change of subject. "This is my last day in King's End, you know," he says quietly. "...But I have been considering moving here from the Greatwood."

my body's on the line now, I can't fight this time now
I can feel the light shine on my face

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

SUNJATA

the flood

you killed a man there, and i cried
but the rain masked the hurt behind your face

A low “mhm,” leaves him as they promptly start to leave that conversation behind. Not that Sunjata will complain right now, especially as Niki switches up the conversation. Which is more beneficial, if he’s being honest. And by the time his gaze swings back to Niki he sees the smile that grows on his face and the apology thereafter, and it sparks some amusement. He drops his hand from his neck to reach for the kettle of coffee to refill his glass, holding it up in silent question if Niki would like more.

“I’m pretty sure I brought it down first.” He accepts the apology easy enough, and with the announcement that it was Niki’s last day in King’s End he perks up to hear he’s considering moving here. And that is something Sunjata latches onto swiftly, his brows lifting with the surprise before he tries to relax and blot out the hope that glitters in his gaze for a moment, trying not to seem desperate when it felt like everyone else he talked to as of late felt like they were here out of obligation. “It was all the graves, wasn’t it?” He asks, lips quirking into a small smirk as he aims for humor to lighten the mood, dumping some sugar and creamer into his coffee before he looks up at Niki more fully. “I’d love you have you here, if you do decide to move.” He realizes the terminology is a little off, given that he physically can’t love right now, but he hopes the sentiment is understood. “We’re about to start making a healing river, which I'm excited about.” He tacks on, just in case Niki needed more reasons – and Sunjata suddenly feels like he’s cosplaying as Caido’s worst car salesman when it comes to trying to get people to live here.

by the way, dear, we're alive
and it hurts 'cause we survived it

NIKI

Nodding readily and offering out his cup for Sunjata to refill it, it isn't that Niki is expecting a negative response to his announcement, but he's not prepared for such a positive one either. The lift in the demigod's expression takes years off him, however briefly, and the laugh that breaks from his lips is as much surprise as it is honest amusement. "You got me," he drawls, waving a hand in faux dramatics.

"The way to a necromancer's heart is a poorly guarded mausoleum, you know," he adds, his tone dry and his smile easy. "In all honesty though, I did not have much time to look at the Barrows. I will have to explore further, should I decide to relocate permanently." Which is looking more and more like a done deal, if he's honest with himself.

"A healing river?" he repeats, immediately interested. "It just keeps getting better. If you can convince the Hollowed Grounds to move the Gilded Market headquarters here too, I really will have everything I need."

my body's on the line now, I can't fight this time now
I can feel the light shine on my face

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

SUNJATA

the flood

you killed a man there, and i cried
but the rain masked the hurt behind your face

It damn near works, the mention of the graves being the key to Niki’s necromancer heart. And as he continues, Sunjata can’t help but to let the accented chuckle slip from his lips, a lopsided smile, genuine for the first real time today as it blooms on his lips. “Good thing I’m familiar with them.” He jokes back, settling to hear that he hadn’t even had a chance to really look at the barrows previously. “I’ll have to show you around them, then. Or you can talk to Calla, she’s the Barrows Keeper.” He offers out easily.

It was her job to keep an eye on the spirits at least, perhaps she and Niki might get along.

Perking up to hear the Gilded Market mention, he winces at that requirement, all drama and feeling more alive in the past few minutes than he thinks he has in the past week alone. “Hmm, I dunno. That’s a big ask.” He tuts, head tilting this way and that, the dangling silver feather earrings dancing in his ears bounce with the movement. “Might have to settle for a nice not magical workshop.” He says as he hides his smile behind his cup of coffee.

by the way, dear, we're alive
and it hurts 'cause we survived it

NIKI

"Oh? Should I be worried that the leader of King's End is so familiar with its mass graveyard?" Niki asks with a raise of an eyebrow, barely hiding his smile as he lifts his refilled cup to his lips. "Perhaps both though, in all seriousness. I did not even know there was a keeper of the Barrows. I daresay she and I will have much to talk about." Organising graves and funerals, the best way to prepare a body, what happens when the dead get up and walk about when they aren't supposed to... y'know. Normal stuff.

Sighing with exaggerated deflation to hear that relocating the entire Gilded Market is beyond Sunjata's capabilities, Niki shrugs as if to say it was worth a shot. He can't hide his surprise, however, at the other man's offer of a workshop, unsure whether or not they're still joking or if he ought to be taking this seriously. "I did not realise you offered all of your new citizens bespoke places of work," he says.

my body's on the line now, I can't fight this time now
I can feel the light shine on my face

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!