the wild screaming weight

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us Despite the promise and cut of the incoming season, the Greenwing was alive with the hues of illustrious green and dazzling blue, surrounded by the usual snowy flare. From above, Deimos observed and patrolled, long plumage and feathers fanning outward for the opportunity of gazing upon the terrain and territory with keen observations and a way to calm a restless mind. He should’ve found some peace in all the circumstances lately – Ru safe and sound, busy striving to find a place for herself to carve out a new niche, Halo ready for Deepfrost’s lurking potentials, he also had much to occupy and hover around, like Evie’s impending birth in a few weeks time, and roaming notions about the bizarre weather.   Though the latter he could strive and bypass; the screams were less irritating now so much as a near constant. Lowering and banking along a thermal, his gaze narrowed along the swell of clouds nestled beyond the horizon as threats or warnings. Below though, frost foxes dotted the stream, ningos nested and rested along embankments, and luxere, glowing and pristine, were grazing and snatching upon whatever meals they could snag before winter’s edges took centerstage.    But there, in the distance, he could see something else maneuvering, sliding this way. the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left

sleep don't visit, so i choke on sun // and the days blur into one

Leafchange in Halo wasn’t his favorite place to be, but it sure beats Deepfrost. As a man not too excited about the snow in general, the Greenwing was actually a breath of fresh air. He’s never been here, of course, but it’s on the way and he’s more than happy to take a bit of a scenic route as he flies over the emerald and sapphire hues.

But it’s the familiar shape of a very familiar mythical beast in the sky, the dragon adjusts his trajectory to meet the Warden, hoping deep down that it wouldn’t be a fight in the sky like it might have been years ago. Deimos, hey! He calls out through the attuned bond, the scarred storm dragon coming into view as he twists to join the other man on his flight.

and the backs of my eyes hum with things i've never done

SUNJATA

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us Dragons in Halo were a usual risk; this one in particular, however, was well known to him, and so he pushed down the sudden inclinations of risk and ruin. He took a long, slow breath regardless as he wound over brooks and streams, giving himself a moment to disregard the usual instincts when it came to the flying lizards. For his part, the Flood seemed wholly unbothered, and so Deimos took the same regard; nonchalant, calm, stoic, even if his form couldn’t be still or silent. Sunjata. What brings you out this way? Perhaps one more round over mountains and valleys before turning for home, without Deepfrost’s lingering pulse making its way through the thickets. It was a much more innocent thought that the Sword would normally grant, but he was going to deliver something else that would likely cause some semblance of a stir to the demigod. I did have a chance to speak to Ru. A blunt edge, but with no weapons braced or extended towards the Archon. Just a statement of simple fact – calm, without prejudice or malice – waiting to gauge the reaction. the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left

sleep don't visit, so i choke on sun // and the days blur into one

He is unbothered, for the most part. He hasn’t seen any dragons so far on this approach, and for that the Heartless remains just as relaxed – sure that the people of Halo would understand the difference from his darker, longer shape than the white dragons that often plagued the region. As he settles in beside Deimos, though, through the air that’s warmer with this particular thermal, the dragon’s head tilts toward the Warden. Was about to head back to King’s End. Had to reup on our stock of Halovian Whiskey. It’s popular at the House. He admits, offering a beat of appreciation through the attuned bond.

The appreciation turns to apprehension, briefly, the spark of a certain kind of stillness overcoming the dragon that flies beside the thunderbird. I’m glad you had a chance to talk her. He offers, amicable, as even as he could be. There wasn’t any judgement in the tone of the Warden, though, which he thinks bodes well for him in the long run. I’m sure she told you, then? Vague, of course, given that he doesn’t want to start divulging his side, unsure if Deimos would even care at this point.

and the backs of my eyes hum with things i've never done

SUNJATA

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us Traversing to Halo for whiskey, while a larger commodity, elicited a brief snort of understanding. Thereafter though, he could feel the tug of apprehension, the push and pull of trepidation making its march across the Attuned bond. There would be no pushback from the Sword now; not after years of advising Ru to not follow through on her plan, watching her do so, and then not being surprised at all when everything backfired once more. Patterns with people were easy to follow; only a matter of when. While he was disappointed for the Valkyrie, perhaps he was also relieved. She was alive. The burdens vanquished and the opportunities were not. She could traverse and roam and do what she pleased, without being tied down. Freedom and liberation for a woman who’d only wanted the individual near him, and all it had gotten her was a way to spiral. All of which he didn’t say – still working through and processing it on this juncture too. Same. I did not realize how much she had gone through. Nor how it had come about; his endless searching for someone who couldn’t be found – and presuming it was to linger, to lurk, rather than perishing and rejuvenating, renewing, into something else. Or the heart matter on your end. There was an inkling to ask further on the subject (namely the why, but Ru had already done her best and Deimos had figured if things couldn’t be built on trust between the pair, maybe that was more than the first sign), but he pressed it back against his teeth and along the edges of his mind. No rage like before; no incandescent vitriol. Calm, cool, collected, a long breath and a shake of his head. She seemed ready to start something else though. In that Sunjata wouldn’t be stabbed or have something burn down around him on this interim. the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left

sleep don't visit, so i choke on sun // and the days blur into one

It’s a lot. He agrees, keeping the attuned bond deadened as much as he can, but the air of quiet and stillness still creeps along, cautious and a touch apprehensive. The mention of the heart, though, has a soft sigh leaving him, the dragon dipping his head for a moment as his wings remain extended, catching on the wind and ruffling the leather portions in the process. I thought maybe it’d change things. It helped with the Family being here. When he was under their control because he could never truly love them the way he imagines they wanted him to in order to get their claws dug in deeper.

I’m glad, though. That she’s okay enough. And he means it, every ounce of the things he says. I didn’t want her to stick around for me to fix this. She deserves more than that. It’s exactly what he’d told her too, that he needed to be able to do this on his own without using her as a crutch. Without using anyone as a crutch. And maybe, perhaps, that was the bitch of it.

Still, he lets it fall across the attuned bond whether or not Deimos judges him for it. There’s an ease of which they currently have that leads him to think Deimos isn’t out to get him this time, and for that he falls into the sense of improved maturity he’d learned over the years.

and the backs of my eyes hum with things i've never done

SUNJATA

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us Immortality had its edges too. She’d suffer and be reborn; to either find something worth grasping again, or lingering on the thresholds of everything she’d ever found wanting. Renewal could be bitter – that family had a particular way of dancing on the lines of death and managing to overcome them, but Deimos wondered about all the things Ru hadn’t said. That Sunjata didn’t offer. That between those designations some portions simply couldn’t come back whole; not yet, anyway. It had taken him some time to regain his senses upon resurrection. What did it mean for the Valkyrie, other than a new opportunity? Or was it just that – the dangling threads of goals and purposes realigning without a noose in front of them? Sunjata extended some of the insight a little further as plumage unfurled and Deimos took on another passing thermal, the lift of air feeding into his need for restless movement. Precautions for a wartime, parasitic fiend, and the whole notion of the inevitable; probably once he’d tried to understand the footholds of the Refuge. Deimos had believed it’d been firmly on a lack of trust, rather than the potential for more claws to sink in. And then it just died? He felt like he was missing a few steps, that all those knots had a few more gnarled portions he was forgoing, forgetting, before reality could truly tuck into the fathoms. His contentment for Ru’s subjective peace made the Sword narrow his eyes – not in any threatening measure, but concentration, speculation, an art of focus as they drifted along another intertwining valley, the glow of the luxere herds below. I agree he mentioned initially; a concurring of Ru not sticking around, not waiting, not lurking, not miring herself further into the orbit of someone who couldn’t, wouldn’t, want her. the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left

sleep don't visit, so i choke on sun // and the days blur into one

It probably had far too many twists and pulls in the story to make much sense even if he’d had the time to explain it all. But it hadn’t been a trust issue as far as Sunjata was concerned. It was an attempt to block himself from letting anything tear him away from Hotaru once he’d found her again, once they’d promised to try. In the here and now, though, without the sensation of love in the slightest and every bit of it lost to him (even his previous loves), Sunjata feels just about as hollow as he thinks he probably should have been the entire time.

Yeah. I think it had a long time ago. She kept it in her pocket dimension and when she… died.. she couldn’t keep an eye on it, I guess? It wasn’t like a magical item or anything. It was and wasn’t. Organic, is what he’d understood when he’d seen it withered in that box. Not a hard rock or a charm of sorts that was impervious to outside elements. Leaving it unattended to was almost the equivalent of setting it on fire to watch it burn. The end result was the same. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t her intention, but I also can’t feel anything anymore. So.. Hence the fairness of it, in his mind. Why should she stick around if he physically and quite literally couldn’t care.

Even if he knows that he should, which was always going to be the problem. He knows what he should do, how he should feel. He just doesn’t feel any of it. And much to his relief, Deimos agrees – an almost tangible feeling, palpable in the attuned bond between them that he’d made the right choice.

and the backs of my eyes hum with things i've never done

SUNJATA

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us They’d promised to try. One would have to wonder how much effort had been put in. How much damage had been done. How many days spent in limbo and transgressions hadn’t made hearts grow fonder; and instead, seemingly wilted and decayed, in an unknowing stranglehold. He didn’t bother hiding the air of confusion as Sunjata began explaining; recalling Seren’s pocket dimensions and the capabilities of said areas, but that the tangible heart had been left to fade in Ru’s incorporeal state. A mistake, but barbed enough to have it maim and tear at both of them in swift, abrupt cadence. No two halves of the same whole, but a parted puzzle, driven back by the states of their grief. Perhaps that made it more tragic or a given all along. Deimos wouldn’t be the one labeling it – but neither Sunjata nor Ru had a decent track record when they opted to strive together. This one hadn’t ended in stabbing or arson; but the slow, withering potential of a purpose, an ambition, gone to fade into nothingness. And what had the Flood earned, after all of it? He left that thought to himself, a withheld, inward snort stifled into the back of his mind, interspersed with a careful, long breath to hide the warranted means. An unfortunate side effect of it all, for her ruin to also be the cause of his. Then he lofted another inquiry, one he hadn’t bothered to ask the Valkyrie, not in her state, not in her desperate need to find more ground. If you get it repaired, would you try again with her? the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left

sleep don't visit, so i choke on sun // and the days blur into one

It was an unfortunate side effect of it all, and without hearing or feeling much from Deimos’ side of the bond it bolsters the fact that Sunjata might not be as awful as he feels like he should be for all of this. He knows the Sword enough to know that he wouldn’t hide his displeasure or upset at him – gods knew he had the scars up the side of his body to prove it from one of the other man’s shifts years ago.

It’s a valid question that he asks next and one that he thinks about longer than he probably should – it’s been a question on the forefront of his mind, one he’d ultimately denied with Hotaru if only to not keep her held back if she found something better. No, I think.. We’re past that now. They’d already tried so many times to make it work and it still ended poorly one way or another. Maybe that was a sign. And at this point if he did get it fixed, he’d rather stay alone than try to fit puzzle pieces back together that had become too warped to fully commit to taking shape. I told her not to wait. I don’t want her stuck on me fixing it and hoping to make it work again when I’m not sure it will. It goes back to the fairness of it all – how unfair it was for both of them that this was the result.

But this is where they are right now. And he lets that answer hang in the air as he takes another thermal, leather wings flexing as he soars above the Greenwing, his silver gaze lifting to scan Deimos’ shape.

and the backs of my eyes hum with things i've never done

SUNJATA

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us The answer took time. Deimos was neither disappointed nor surprised by the notion of the pause – he’d always known Sunjata to act on impulse over calculations, but the simplistic endeavors of thinking it through was enough of an allowance to not inquire again. When the response finally came, his eyes narrowed again, staring out over the vastness of glowing luxere herds and long plains of green that would soon turn to snow, and the strange dead end Ru and the Flood faced. Years before the woman had been desperate to cling back to him; the Sword had certainly struck an argument with her over such matters and the agonizing way she strived to flicker in the man’s orbit, craving anything she could. And for what? An abrupt finale, a brush of death, and then the threshold of nothing; stymied and stagnant, paling in comparison to what had been before. I think that is fair and wise of you. A consideration for both of them – and one that Ru might never have angled in yesteryears, not in those seasons when she’d only been encouraged to find her wake in Sunjata’s crosshairs. A bizarre way to end the segments of tales – from such passionate displays of vehemence and then compassion and then naught at all. He gave a long and low sigh but not in any particular direction – smooth, calm, composed in the wake of movement and motion. Whether or not either of them would find this newfound freedom and liberation worthwhile would remain to be seen; carving out new niches and pathlines for themselves. She has always been strong, even when she wanted to wallow, it was never for very long. She will find a place. He had steadfast faith in his friend. What are you going to do now? He angled his gaze to segment briefly on the dragon, before they looked onward again, towards horizons; figuring the heart would be mended and then he’d go forward from there, but Sunjata had never been the type to do whatever else the world sought and required. the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left

sleep don't visit, so i choke on sun // and the days blur into one

He waits for a potential backfire from what he’s said – not that anything in this conversation has given him the idea it might happen. History or not, the Heartless feels as though he’s learned, he’s not trying to repeat past mistakes, and at this point he’s tired of trying to chase after ghosts time and time again. So instead of focusing on a future he’s uncertain of or trying to take short cuts to get to, he chooses the longer path. The harder one, probably. Thanks. He offers quietly, the sound crossing the attuned bond with an air of a sigh as the dragon flies beside the thunderbird.

He moves with him, staying close within the confines of a conversation, but also so it doesn’t seem so shocking to those below with the storm dragon that flies above alongside their Warden. I know. I just hope it’s everything she wants. Even without him in it. But as for himself? It’s a loaded question he doesn’t really know the answer to, but he can tell Deimos what he wants to do now. Lead my region, finish our quest.. Focus on that and fixing my heart eventually, maybe. Maybe it’s in that exact order or maybe it bounces around, he isn’t sure. Either way, there’s intention in admitting each one.

and the backs of my eyes hum with things i've never done

SUNJATA

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us Deimos had made a fair number of mistakes in his lifetimes too. Some had been in the cold, malicious wake of his anger, in justice for a friend. And while he might not have regretted the actions, for fire and brimstone and power and devastation, he’d abhorred the outcomes. In all their behest and hunger for vengeance, the Sword had lost his position – but thereafter, they’d rallied in war frames and tossed thrones and then petulant violence for the coveted, icy world. One domino after the next, until they’d been banished and gone and needed to resort to planning from worlds apart. He'd gone far deeper and cooler and measured in calculations now. In this interim, there’d be no point in rising to anger at either Ru’s behest or Sunjata’s actions. Ru had died – delivered them no message, no means, no understanding, until her revival. Sunjata had cut their ties then and there when the actions left him with nothing. Something they could move on from; no ashes, no cinders, no embers, nothing to flare into woe and agony. No newfound children from goddesses. No secret romance. No jaded exes. Just a loss to follow another; and whether or not anyone would take the mantle thereafter. Everything the Valkyrie wanted couldn’t be fit in so small of an idea – but he snorted and nodded just the same. Catching another thermal, his wings extended outwards to hover on the breeze, listening to plans, to the minor motions after fractures. You say maybe. Would you want to stay this way? He’d once been entirely heartless too; chilling, defined only by the bloodshed he could bestow and the indifferent within his mind. Nowadays he reserved it for the battlefield, or for adversaries – but for every day? Every waking moment? What sort of life was that? the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left

sleep don't visit, so i choke on sun // and the days blur into one

Maybe he would get his heart fixed. Maybe he wouldn’t. It was up in the air still as to whether or not he found it worth it in the end. So when Deimos questions if he wants to stay this way, he’s also unsure on that. For now, kind of leaning toward it. A humorless laugh leaves the dragon as he curves in the air again, catching another breeze that slips through.

It would be selfishly easy to, though. To not have to feel it all when it inevitably went south again – because it always would, he’s realized. He doesn’t get the happy ever after, and rather than spend the rest of his life mourning the what could have been maybe he should be content with how he is. And if he isn’t, well, then that gives him something to work on doesn’t it?

The dragon’s nostrils flare slightly before he’s exhaling a staticky breath. I want to get it fixed eventually, I just think I feel more level headed right now to make those big decisions because it isn’t there. So I don’t want to be like this forever, but for now? Yes. He doesn’t even know if it makes sense, always having been shitty at words, but he hopes that Deimos understands the difference.

and the backs of my eyes hum with things i've never done

SUNJATA