[SE] a muddy good point

there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory

"Apparently," Ronin is saying as they approach the heated shoreline that borders Apopo, "people have been complaining about a load of mud creatures coming from this direction. I have no idea how they could've gotten up here if it's memory mud, but I figure we should check it out to be safe..." He's long stopped asking for rhyme or reason when it comes to the things that happen under Rae's behest, and as long as it leaves Torchline well enough alone, he'll return the favour.

It hasn't, though, and so off the Taliesins go to do their bit.

The Knight walks with his hands in the pockets of the light coat he's opted to wear, its collar turned up against the whipping sea breeze and his hair already damp from the last heavy downpour. They're between showers right now though, so the walk is pleasant enough. (If you like walking in the damp humidity around the borders of a volcano looking for mud monsters).

"...So Kaisel, huh," he says quietly under his breath, the ghost of a barely contained smirk on his face as he glances over his shoulder at Remi. "That's a choice." Not a bad one either, before anyone gets their proverbial knickers in a twist. Just a markedly different one from Flora's usual daddy issues picks.

RONIN

& my heart ran away from me

Remi walks easily beside Ronin, his curls already growing damp and unruly in the sticky air. The coat he’s thrown on is light but well-worn, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows as if to pretend it helps with the heat rolling off the molten earth. Every so often he glances toward the blackened shoreline where the steam rises like ghostly fingers, scanning for any sign of movement, mud or otherwise.

"Given how much it’s been raining, I’m not surprised," he admits, his tone even but thoughtful. "If the cliffs have been giving way, all that runoff has to end up somewhere." His gaze drifts toward the glowing vents below, sea green eyes reflecting the flare of light that comes from beneath the surface. "Hopefully it’s just mud, and not something more volcanic."

When Ronin’s voice softens with mischief, the mention of Kaisel draws a sharp bark of laughter from Remi; sudden and genuine, ringing bright against the low hiss of steam. He glances sidelong at his husband, mouth curved into a grin that’s all surprise and fond disbelief. "It sure is," he concedes, shaking his head as if still processing it. "I know he’s about Flora’s age, but—" his expression twists into a faint grimace, "does he seem young to you?"

He pauses, squinting into the fog ahead as though Kaisel might appear there on cue, youthful grin and all. "Not that it’s a bad thing," he adds quickly, hands sliding deeper into his pockets. Given that Flora's former lovers had mostly been their age or older, Kaisel was a bit of relief in some ways. "Just...different. It feels strange seeing her with someone who still looks like they can pull an all-nighter without consequences."

THE

BASTION

Table coding by Sky

there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory

"Volcanic mud is still mud," Ronin points out with a scrunch of his nose. "If the damn stuff stayed still for long enough it'd probably be really good potting soil." Volcanoes and fertile lands and all that, he thinks. For today, though, they're more likely to see the ashy splodges of things that used to be someone's snowman from Deepfrost - and it's probably going to try to make friends with them.

Peering across the thick layer of fog that clings to Apopo's shoreline to try and spot anything moving that really has no right to be, Remi's laughter surprises a chuckle of his own out of him, Ronin freeing one hand from his pocket to slip it around his husband's waist. "No, but he does," he gushes, his voice a dramatic whisper like they might be overheard even all the way out here.

"Not a bad thing at all," he's quick to confirm, grinning. "And gods, those were the days. How dare he look like he doesn't know what a hangover is. But yeah, he's... spirited, right?"

RONIN

& my heart ran away from me

"So long as it isn’t still actively lava," Remi replies with a low chuckle, the sound soft but rich against the constant hiss of steam. He glances sidelong at the molten shoreline, half-expecting to see something bubbling up that would make even his optimism waver. When Ronin’s arm winds around his waist, he leans subtly into the warmth, his hand brushing over the back of Ronin’s knuckles in a quiet return of affection.

The mention of mud sparks a thought that makes his grin turn mischievous. "You know," he says, squinting through the fog as though he might actually find it there, "we never did go check on our giant snow dick in the Hollowed Grounds this year." His frown is mock-serious, the picture of exaggerated regret. "Do you think with all this mud it’s...erect and moving around somewhere?"

He leans closer as if sharing scandalous gossip, nodding along to Ronin’s conspiratorial tone. The grin that follows is full of boyish amusement. "Spirited, yes," he echoes, laughing under his breath before lifting a brow. "Do you think it’s just a rebound? He seems the complete opposite of Jack. Maybe she just needs something to take the taste out of her mouth before she finds herself somewhere in between?”" His voice is fond rather than judgmental, warm with the kind of paternal bemusement that comes from too many years of watching their daughter make her own choices—often loudly.

THE

BASTION

Table coding by Sky

there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory

"Mm, I feel like if it was still lava it might have crossed the line from memory mud into something else entirely." Something that has people running at it with buckets of water and/or pitchforks. Very content to keep Remi's warmth against his side, especially as the clouds gather anew overhead, Ronin can't help the boyish laugh that bursts out of him at the prospect of a giant mud dick terrorising the Hollowed Grounds.

(And now I'm gonna make a thread for it and you know it).

"That image alone is going to keep me entertained all Flowerbirth, you know," he tells Remi, leaning closer in turn so they're strolling the shoreline with their heads together like two gossipy teenagers. "I really don't know," he confesses. "If he is, I feel like Flora is far too stubborn to just let it be that." Grimacing - because that isn't good for either Kai or Flora - he's regrettably distracted by the sight of something slorping up ahead in the fog.

"Think that's our mud monster?"

RONIN

& my heart ran away from me

Remi snickers, shaking his head. "You can imagine why I hope it hasn’t done that then," he says, raising his brows with exaggerated gravity before his grin ruins the effect entirely. The humidity clings to his curls and lashes, but he doesn’t seem to mind; there’s a spark in his eyes that’s as bright as the molten glow spilling up from the shoreline.

When Ronin laughs, Remi tilts his head and presses a quick smooch to his cheek, voice dipping low and teasing. "Good," he murmurs, the word barely more than a flirtatious whisper before he chuckles again.

As the conversation turns back to Flora, Remi’s expression softens, then winces slightly as he considers it properly. "I hadn’t even thought of it like that," he admits, a quiet sigh slipping free. "But you’re probably right." His shoulders slump in mild defeat, the fond exasperation of a parent who knows he’s powerless to interfere. "I suppose we’ll see how it goes when we have dinner with them." Though what that would exactly show, he had no idea.

His gaze flicks toward the slorping shape ahead, grin returning in full. "Shall we?" he asks, bouncing his eyebrows at his husband in a way that’s equal parts challenge and mischief. As his shoulders roll, feathers shimmer into being; broad golden wings unfurling with a soft rush of air.

THE

BASTION

Table coding by Sky

there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory

Nudging Remi with his hip and flashing him a wicked smile for his trouble, Ronin's amusement is forced to fade in the face of the rest of their conversation, and now it's his turn to lean in for a smooch. "It's early days yet too," he reminds him. "Not like there are wedding bells or anything like that, right?" Kissing him again, the Knight steps away with clear reluctance as the sight of their quarry (heh, because it's mud) comes into view.

"We shall." Grinning right back, Ronin opts to keep his wings tucked away; instead, radiant points of fire ignite all around him, and he starts to creep forward to try and get the drop on the creature; it looks like it used to be a playhouse of all things, one that has unluckily merged with a snow-sculpture that had legs. "Wow," Ronin mutters. "I'll go low, you go high?"

Already darting forward, he lances a firebolt towards it. "Did Flora tell you?" he calls conversationally. "Dinner will be at Wildering House. I get to cook in a big kitchen."

RONIN

& my heart ran away from me

At the mention of wedding bells, Remi goes stiff as a board, his head snapping toward Ronin with wide, alarmed eyes. "There had better not be," he says flatly, a growl of parental dread curling beneath the humour. His curls are already frizzing in the heat, but somehow the idea alone makes him stand even straighter, as though bracing for the absurd inevitability of Flora doing precisely that.

Still muttering to himself about how far too soon that would be, he follows the spreading flare of Ronin’s light. With a small exhale, his focus narrows; muscles tensing, wings unfurling in a shimmer of gold. He kicks off the ground in one easy motion, gliding into the steam-thick air above the warped shoreline. Through the bond between them, his thoughts drift toward Ronin’s with a brush of dry amusement. It looks like one of those strange birdhouse things from Vai’s storybooks, he observes, the mental image of painted wood and cheerful colours warped grotesquely by mud and heat.

As Ronin’s firebolt streaks forward, Remi swoops low, feathers catching the volcanic light as he darts before the creature to draw its gaze away and keep its focus on him rather than the Knight. Mud splatters up from the ground, sizzling where it lands, but his grin never wavers. "Oh, is that right?" he calls down, voice bright with effortless teasing even as he wheels in front of the lumbering shape. "Any ideas for the menu?"

THE

BASTION

Table coding by Sky

there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory

Unable not to scoff at the Bastion's reaction - despite more or less sharing his opinion, if not with slightly less dramatics - Ronin holds up his hands as if to remind the other man that it had only been a remark and nothing more. "I haven't heard anything of the sort," he says. "I don't think we have to worry about her marrying her maybe-rebound just yet." Though if she did decided to do just that, the Knight would be interested to see Remi's plans to stop it (let alone the likelihood of their success).

It really does. Like that house with the chicken feet, he agrees, though the appendages hauling the mud cottage along seem more hooved, if Ronin was forced to take a guess. Either way, a chunk of the house splats away, sizzling even as it starts to reform, and Ronin groans. "It's gonna be one of those," he complains, launching another barrage of light and heat and fury at it.

"Jambalaya," he says easily enough, grinning up at Remi. "With ramphire and chorizo. And I want to make coconut shrimp, like we had the other day." That, yes, he's been thinking about ever since.

RONIN

& my heart ran away from me

The look Remi shoots Ronin could have curdled milk. His brows knit, gold and green eyes narrowing like the Knight’s words alone might have summoned the nightmare into being. "Better not," he mutters darkly, the words almost lost beneath the sound of hissing steam and slapping mud.

The absurdity of their foe helps dissolve his irritation; a laugh escapes him as the lurching house-creature groans and reconstitutes itself. "Mmm, of course it is," he says wryly, twisting midair to avoid a chunk of sizzling sludge that misses by inches. The heat rolls off the molten cracks below, his wings flaring briefly to catch a rising current as he swoops to keep the creature’s muddy attention focused skyward rather than on the firestorm Ronin is hurling from below.

At the mention of jambalaya and coconut shrimp, Remi’s stomach promptly betrays him with a faint growl. "You know," he calls down, voice bright with amusement, "since it’s such an important dinner, you should probably practice the meal before we go to Flora’s." His grin turns slow and suggestive as he dips through a plume of steam, raising his brows at his husband. "Maybe tonight?"

THE

BASTION

Table coding by Sky

there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory

Ronin's onslaught of firebolts might make him feel better - and the creature does seem more interested Remi despite bits of itself flying every which way before creeping back (which, rude) - but it isn't actually doing much to get rid of it. Grumbling, the Knight is forced to change tactics, exchanging firebolts for zephyr and hoping to corral the thing towards a steep edge and a fate at the bottom of the sea.

He doesn't hear Remi's grumbling stomach, but he really doesn't need to when the other man's voice calls his way. Grinning, Ronin raises his eyebrows up at his husband. "I think that only seems fair," he agrees. "I really wouldn't want to get it wrong if we're meant to be making good impressions on Flora's boyfriend. Maybe you can also give me dessert suggestions."

"If you bank to the left a bit, there's an outcrop I can topple it over," he adds absently.

RONIN

& my heart ran away from me

Remi pulls a face so exaggerated it borders on theatrical, tongue poking out slightly as if the very word boyfriend had left a bad taste on his tongue. It isn’t that he dislikes Kaisel—not really—but now that Ronin has gone and said it out loud, the young man is forever branded in Remi’s mind as some teenager scheming to marry their daughter. The thought alone makes him scowl, though the expression doesn’t last long.

As Ronin’s voice cuts through the steam with talk of dessert, Remi’s mood lifts at once. Banking easily to the left, he obeys without hesitation, golden feathers flashing as he sweeps around the lumbering mud creature. "Oh, I like that idea," he calls back, voice light as he dips close enough to bait the thing toward the cliff’s edge. "We could hunt a ramphire on the way home—fresh ingredients, right?"

The creature slorps after him, unsteady and hissing, and Remi grins over his shoulder. "And for dessert... maybe crème brûlée?" he suggests, tone deliberately casual, even as his wings flare to keep his balance over the searing air. "You can do the flambé yourself right at the table." His grin turns mischievous, glancing down toward his husband with the faintest spark in his eyes.

THE

BASTION

Table coding by Sky

there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory

Tittering to himself, Ronin wonders whether Remi ought to be the one to do the honours and threaten ensure Kai knows what he's getting himself into (and the consequences of breaking their baby girl's heart). Then again, Flora would murder them both in retaliation if they frighten the boy off, so perhaps not. In close pursuit of the walking mud-house as it tries to pivot and clumsily squelch after the glitter of the Bastion's wings, Ronin's zephyr starts to whip around it in preparation for that final push.

"Now we're talking," he says with a broad grin. "Coconut shrimp, crème brûlée and one practice ramphire coming up for us tonight. And if it's a success, we'll have to bully Flora into having the real dinner before I forget how I did it."

Speaking of his ability to produce his own flambé, though, as the mud-house finally reaches the outcrop, Ronin switches back to his tried and tested firebolts and hits the creature with a barrage of radiant fire, sending it more or less exploding down onto the rocks and churning waves.

RONIN

& my heart ran away from me

Remi can’t help the quiet laugh that escapes him as the Zephyr tears through the steam, the creature wobbling precariously toward the cliff edge. "Don’t worry," he calls down, voice bright and teasing. "I’ll stand by and keep very diligent notes of everything you do." His brows bounce suggestively, a grin flashing white against the glowing haze before he angles his wings to keep the house’s muddy attention fixed squarely on him.

A few of Ronin’s firebolts streak upward, their light scattering across the fog as the creature groans and topples. Remi flares his wings wide, gliding back just far enough to avoid the collapsing mess as it hits the rocks below with a deep, wet splat. He hovers for a moment, peering down through the rising plumes of steam, one brow quirking.

"It looks like it’s still trying to reform," he calls, voice dry with mild exasperation. "But," he shrugs one shoulder, golden feathers rustling, "it can go wander around the bottom of the ocean for a while. Maybe it’ll start a new life."

THE

BASTION

Table coding by Sky