all just conjecture and gloom

Well.

Fuck.

Koa leaves the meeting with Sohalia feeling dizzy, his head on fire and full of bees. All capacity for rational thought has fled him like the ebbing ocean; thoughtless and aimless he drifts along, like a feather on a breeze. He left the Refuge on autopilot, made his way back toward the Boondocks and the skyships there. But then he'd reached the Castaway exchange and realized he wasn't ready to go home. How was he supposed to go back to Stormbreak and pretend that nothing happened, all the while knowing Sohalia was here?

So instead of getting on boat he'd found himself a bottle of something herbal and bitter and clear. It burned as he drank it, and yet somehow he kept taking pulls, desperate for relief from his running thoughts. Instead he'd only grown more antsy, the tight-knit laces of his composure loosening under liquor's spell.

So he'd decided to take a walk through the Boondocks, the bottle growing steadily lighter in his hand. And that's how we find Koa here: his boxing wraps on, the half-empty container of gin on the ground beside him, expression set in stubborn frustration as he swings his fist into a tree.

Tal was, unsurprisingly, making a delivery to the Boondocks on this fine if chilly Flowerbirth day. There were enough individual homesteads scattered about to keep him busy on the local end of things, and the Peregrine was a faster way to cross the region than the horse-drawn wagons. Things had gone fairly smoothly and he'd been on his way back to the Castaway Exchange when a bass caroling from his dragon drew his attention down to the green sward below.

The overgrown area wasn't always easy to pierce from above, but Boreal had a knack for finding friends in the unlikeliest of places, and the pale dragon circled above one tree in particular before diving down to make her presence known to Koa with a happy rumble of greeting as she backwinged to a heavy landing nearby and then presented herself for pets with her best 'sit pretty.'

It took Tal longer to find a nearby clearing to drop the Peregrine's ground anchor in and then shimmy down the rope ladder the dozen feet to the young grass. He eventually made it to the clearing with a grin already on his face, oblivious to Koa's inner turmoil as he greeted his friend. "Hey, Koa! Didn't expect t'find you all th'way out here! Need a lift anywhere?"

Oh fuck I've wandered away from civilization and now the Family has sent a dragon to finish me off.

That's what goes through Koa's mind as he watches Boreal descend, his nerves too frayed and brain too hazy to recognize the dragon. Oddly enough it isn't fear that grips the Dragoon at this notion; more an empty resignation, and sadness at how much he hasn't done. He should have been nicer to Sohalia. Should have taken better care of his dad. Should have told Flora he loved her.

Ah well. Too late now.

But the dragon doesn't murder him. In fact, as it lands upon the ground, Koa can't help feeling that its posturing is less harbinger of murder and more large dog anticipating pets. It even looks a lot like Boreal, which is strange. "Huh." Dropping his hands to his sides, the Dragoon takes an uncertain step froward, his brow furrowed into a frown. "Are you a trap? 'Cus you gotta tell me if you are. Rude to kill someone as a trap."

At some point he's knelt down, then sat, his legs crossed beneath him and his hands in his lap. (And maybe Boreal's head in his lap, too, depending on just how eager she is for those pets). That's the way Talyson will find him, perplexed and intoxicated, his knuckles bruised. "Oh, hey," Koa greets the courier bemusedly, belatedly looking up at the other man. "M....aybe?"

Oh, Koa, you sweet idiot humbo. You ain't doin' so good.

Boreal didn't really understand Koa's question, but she tilted her head to the side inqiuisitively and her serpentine tail snaked behind her in an approximation of a hopeful wag. The pets might not have been immediately forthcoming, but she appreciated the human getting down on her level, and she even waited until her companion's friend was settled before she scooted closer and did, indeed, half-crawl into his lap (proving that for all of Tal's threats to the contrary, she had most definitely not been missing any meals) to encourage horn-scritches and offer support for whatever had the Dragoon so obviously feeling down.

It was a well-known fact that petting a dragon could relieve stress and sadness, though she had no way to communicate that particular scientific finding aside from her stubborn affection in the face of human doldrums.

Her own particular human was less perceptive, but he sure as hail recognized someone who was down in the dumps and drinking to get through it. He'd been there himself often enough, in spite of the alcoholism that had killed his mother.

It took more than a glance to figure it out, but Koa's distraction and general malaise weren't hard to spot, even if it took a little longer and a lot more proximity to catch the smell of the gin in the air. Tal's smile faltered and his nose wrinkled as he caught a full whiff, but he only hesitated for a moment while the gears in his brain whirred and smoked before finally shifting tracks. He plopped down beside his friend and leaned a companionable shoulder against Koa's before reaching up to rub the back of his neck and look up at the budding leaves above them for inspiration. "Sooo... uh. Can definitely do that. But what're y'doin' way out here, anyways?" Aside from apparently waging a one-man war on the trees of King's End.

Or maybe just that one tree in particular. That leafy bastard.

Koa settles into the petting of Boreal as naturally as if he was born into it - which, let's be honest, he kind of was. As a legacy Dragoon he's been surrounded by dragons since the moment of his birth, and now he finds the familiar act of stroking a scaled head distinctly soothing to his frayed nerves. It makes him ache for the comfort of Pip, left in Stormbreak for her own safety. "You're a good stand-in, though," he mumbles to Boreal - a continuation of thoughts she will of course have no context for.

And then there's the familiar weight of Tal beside him, asking more questions that are simultaneously easy and hard to answer. Finding it hard to crane his neck toward the Courier, Koa settles for staring at a point between Boreal's wings, his brows drawn into a frown. "Oh, y'know," he answers blandly, gesturing vaguely toward the world at large. "Vibin'."

And the vibes, they are not good.

Koa's hand drops down to the dragon, returning to the all-important ministration of scritches. "Sohalia's alive," he announces out of nowhere and with no particular inflection, because the knowledge is pressing against his throat and lungs and threatening to suffocate him and he cannot come up with a better way to pass it on. "Here. In the Refuge. I--" But he isn't sure what he is, or feels, so he bites the word, shaking his head with a shrug.

Boreal didn't take offense at Koa's words, both because she was a laid-back lizard even at the worst of times and because she didn't fully understand his meaning. She knew 'you' and 'good,' however, and her scaly tail snaked happily through the grass as her eyes half-closed in draconic bliss as the Dragoon found the itchy spots with practiced fingers.

And maybe Tal's choice of place to sit was deliberate, but maybe it was just a byproduct of wanting the physical reassurance that leaning against a friend's shoulder brought; or at least to give it to someone who seemed pretty down for reasons the courier figured they could get to later. You know, sort of ease into the conversation gently? Which was, for Tal, a rather astonishing amount of tact and something that suspiciously resembled maturity.

Or at least, a reasonable facsimile thereof.

He nodded sagely at the mention of vibes, trying to look like he understood as Boreal stretched and burrowed her head more comfortably into Koa's lap. A faint rumble emerged from her chest, a reassuring sound of pure relaxation as her friend's human returned to his good work, and encouraged by the sound of Sohalia's name as well. Tal looked equally calm at first, a vigorous nod of agreement as to the former-Heart's status re: life. Before he could offer the evidence of his conversation with Mort, however, Koa dropped the tidbits that had the courier's jaw opening but nothing emerging.

It took him several long seconds to process the enormity of the revelation, and several false starts before he settled on a heartfelt: "Holy fuck. Is she... is she okay? She's not... y'know... hurt or purple or anythin', is she?" Koa was clearly going through something about it, too, but there were only so many questions that the courier could get out on a single breath before he had to stop and inhale again.

Is she okay? Honestly, Koa hadn't stuck around long enough to really find out - not his proudest moment, but he'd been pretty shocked. "She said she'd been sick?" he answers with an uncertain lilt at the end, fingers tracing over pale scales. "That she'd been recovering in the Greatwood, and had been too scared to send word." Which, were he sober and more objective he might consider fair, or even smart, but right now everything pretty much feels like a steaming pile of ramphire shit.

As for whether or not she's infected? Koa frowns in concentration, biting his lower lip. "The way she was talkin', though.... I don't thiiiiink she's purple?" He shakes his head for emphasis, then immediately regrets it as the world spins. "Fuck," Koa winces, reaching for the bottle. More alcohol, that's the solution. Drown away the noise in his stupid little brain.

He raises the gin up to his mouth, taking another (un)healthy pull before offering it to Tal. "We dated, y'know. Me an' Soh. Did I ever tell you that?" He can't remember. It had been such a short time - just a couple dates, not even really dating - and yet the ripples of that summer romance continue to rock him to this day.

His dragon was out of easy reach, giving comfort to his friend, so Tal settled for knotting his fingers in the hem of his shirt as Koa shared his revelations about Sohalia. The courier was shocked to silence, his stunned gaze wandering blindly to the tree that Koa had been punching without even registering it. A hoarse question slipped out between the dragoon's answers, but it was mostly rhetorical. "Y'mean... she really was in th'Greatwood this whole time?" A place he had searched repeatedly throughout Deepfrost until it had grown too dangerous to venture into once Flowerbirth had returned.

He focused slowly back on his informant as Koa offered what comfort he could in the way of hesitant reassurance and booze, and Tal automatically took the bottle and put it to his own lips. Through some miracle he managed to swallow before the last little truth bomb dropped and he coughed in surprise, thumping his chest with his free hand. "You what?? But she... an' Jude... an'... wait, were you...? Oooooohhhh." It was a bit of a journey but Tal was still sober (for now) and his memory dredged up one of the last conversations he'd had with his petite friend before her disappearance. She'd said something about breaking up with someone in order to date Jude, hadn't she?

So had that been Koa?

Well butter his butt and call him a biscuit.

He took a second, much longer pull from the bottle.

"Fuck, man. Just... fuck. I'm, uh... sorry? D'you need someplace t'stay tonight?"

"Yeah. She and Jude." Which Koa hadn't known about, until he had, and then he'd bowed out, and then... he shrugs, running his tongue over the roof of his mouth and tasting the lingering gin. "So she told me to fuck off, and I did, 'cept then she told me to un-fuck off cus she was into us both, and I told her to fuck off, and then she and Jude broke up, and then... I dunno."

Suddenly feeling a little bit dizzy, Koa leans forward far enough to rest his forehead on Boreal's scaly hide. The coolness of the lizard skin soothes his fuzzy, burning brain; he sighs against her, breathing her in and letting his eyes fall shut. Gold fills the backs of his eyes, gold and blue and sunlit smiles and the smell of jasmine on starlit nights. "I'm never gonna be good enough for her," the boy groans, and it isn't clear just who he means: Sohalia? Flora? Safrin, perhaps? His mother, dead and yet still looming over, a shadow cast across his heart?

He turns his head to look at Tal, cheek still on Boreal (or his own knee, he can't be sure). "I'mma catch a boat?" he answers uncertainly, a youthful quaver in his voice. Wasn't that the plan? Catch a skyship home? Though now that he tries to think about it, he isn't sure when the last ship was supposed to leave from port.

Or is he, again, too late?

Tal listened with the face of the blinking-man gif and the soundtrack to "A whole new world" playing in the background of his thoughts as Koa revealed a whole ass daytime soap opera that he had missed out on. The complete lack of context didn't really help matters, and Sohalia might have left out some of the details for a good reason, but Koa was letting them all hang out and Tal wasn't about to interrupt and ask a stupid question that would stop the flow.

Partly because he couldn't even formulate a single question when so many were clambering for primacy on his tongue.

When Koa finally collapsed down onto Boreal like a sponge cake on the Great British Bakeoff, Tal was only able to follow the breadcrumb trail to one of the potential 'her's that he might be unworthy of: the one they'd just been talking about.

"I mean, maybe?" he offered his friend with his best bedside manner, giving the Dragoon's back an awkward pat. "But I figure I'm not good enough for Alys an' she still wants t'be with me anyways, so... you've still got hope?" Though, to be fair, Tal knew he set a pretty low bar.

At least he was on slightly firmer footing with the next question, and he took a (small) swig from the bottle as Boreal turned her head and began to helpfully wash Koa's face with a broad pink tongue. "You're gonna catch th'best boat in King's End," Tal assured his buddy with a proud swell of his chest and a flicker of a grin. It was easy to smile when he didn't understand what Koa was really asking! "C'mon, let's get you home an' patched up." Tal's home, not Koa's, though the Dragoon would probably figure it out eventually.

"Naaaaah, you're plenty good for Alys." It's second nature to build a brother up, a reflex that even half a bottle of gin hasn't cured Koa of. He reaches blindly for Talyson, patting reassurances wherever his hand lands. "You're like... you're like... you're like, just, like, really good, y'know? A good dude. Good friend. Good boyfriend." Not like the Dragoon, who technically hasn't actually managed to be anyone's boyfriend yet.

And without female validation, what even is he?

He's just Ken Koa.

The large tongue on his face has a startling effect, Koa pulling back in bewilderment and mild alarm. "Oh, that's rank," he exclaims, wrinkling his nose at the pungent aroma of dragon breath. "I mean- sorry, B'real. But you oughta brush your teeth." It's certainly invigorating, though, a sharp jolt to foggy senses that has his mind feeling slightly clear. Blinking at Tal, Koa tilts his head curiously. "Best boat?" he asks, looking around as though anticipating said boat to have manifested behind him. But also... "Yeah, cleanin' up sounds good. An' home. Fuck I'm tired. Or... maybe I could just sleep here?" The spring grass is rather pleasant, and what more does he need than gin?

Tal looked down at the foot Koa was patting, faintly puzzled for a moment before his friend's words sunk in. Once they did he blushed crimson from his ears all the way down the back of his neck before it rose to his cheeks, and he reached up to push his hand self-consciously through his tousled hair - tousled, but no longer scruffy thanks to Koa's previous intervention on his split ends and advice on conditioner.

"Aww, that's just th'gin talkin'," he mumbled, pleased as the proverbial punch at the compliments and blissfully unaware of the downward spiral of Koa's thoughts.

Boreal showed her own affection in a dragon's special way, giving a smoky chortle at Koa's words. She might not understand the specifics, but the important thing was that he was paying attention to her, right? Tal just snorted at the sense of her emotions through their bond and pushed himself up (taking the gin with him). He offered Koa his free hand, ready to haul the Dragoon up and take as much of his weight as his friend needed. "Th'Peregrine, o'course! She's anchored just through these trees. We'll get y'scrubbed up an' sleepin' in a proper bed t'night." Tal's assurances had only one snag: getting the drunk Dragoon on to the Peregrine, but they could burn that bridge when they came to it.

~Fin~