hell to the stars

they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes

he's a demon, with a crown of blood

She crosses her arms to him, but he remains in place – peering down at her when she casually reminds him that she does indeed drink. Her next comment does arise a breathy laugh to leave his throat, enough of hidden amusement and a spark to his dark gaze. “So I’ve heard a time or two.” He informs her with a light tilt of his horned head, hands returning to the bar until she smirks at him, and he returns it, a crooked one with the hint of a fang.

But the glimmering orb of the alcohol catches his eye next, and he follows it until she brings it to her mouth, biting down gingerly, giving him a look that only ignites a fiercer smirk, an almost predatory gleam to his eye. Amused, entertained, surprised by this shift in her. “Oh, how cruel.” He hums to her, too drunk to think past anything else other than the way she taunts to him.

Was it to get a rise out of him? To get him out of his self-circulating misery? Probably. Did he care at this point in time? Not at all. He nears his head toward her, tilting it slightly, steel eyes flitting from her pale gaze to the lips that hold his drink. The smirk remains on his face and he lifts his hand to her jaw, fingertips rough and calloused as he tries to tilt her head up to better reach it should he have a chance to. And he nears closer, aiming for the drink, before he notices that she's pulled it in deep within her mouth, past the lips he'd last seen it at. “How unfair.” He purrs to her, stopping in his pursuit and searches her gaze, leaning away from her a fraction.

does it look like he's still under your control?

SUNJATA

You're so cold

but you feel alive

Somewhere, between their argument and the subsequent encounters where he'd waved words like 'proffessional, strictly business' around, Maea had settled into the belief that their little mistake by the river had been just that. Some kind of misguided joke that went a little too far, and nothing more. Nothing he'd done since then had indicated anything but regret and frustration over his messed up relationship. So the girl thinks nothing of teasing him, didn't imagine he'd do anything except scowl and whine when she stole more liquour from him. He'd drawn a line and kept to it, and she had done the same, even though some part of her regretted it.

She just wanted to make him laugh. Or at least smile a little. Anything but look so brutally miserable.

Not realizing what he was about to do when his hand went to her jaw, she couldn't react fast enough as he smirked at her, tipping her chin up. The liquour dripped from the corner of her mouth and she half choked on it, feeling the burn of it in her mouth, in her nose and throat as she forced herself to swallow. Her vision was filled with his face leaning in, and it startled all manner of memories to vivid recollection in her body, a visceral churn that had everything to do with him being so close. It seemed a cruel thing to her, that he would try to play that stupid game again even at a time like this when he'd specifically said friendship was all he wanted...

Her hands shot up and pushed into his chest, trying to shove him even further away, make him let her go. Practically able to feel his mouth against hers, even though he only close enough that she could feel his breath on her, reeking of alcohol and smoke.

lay your hands on me

one last time

MAEA

they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes

he's a demon, with a crown of blood

In a way, Sunjata had only done it for her, finding that it was easier for her to deal with the idea of him training her if he kept that line in the sand while he wore that wedding ring. And he had, too, kept to it that is. But now? There were no obstacles, aside from the way he’d always seemed to drift from person to person, bed to bed, focusing his attention about as often as he found someone who accepted it. And this close to her? After their training sessions, how much she knows about him? How she’d lost control of her magic and he’d warmed her up until she was okay, until she was safe?

She has his attention now.

He lets off on his closeness to her when her hands push into his chest, pushing him away. And he follows the direction, stepping back with that same almost kind of smug smirk along his face to lean his back against the bar beside her, bruises on the back of his arms, along his spine that he can acutely feel the soreness of as he presses back into the electric charred wood of the bar top. He exhales a quiet, smokey, shaky sigh as he surveys the damage for a brief second. And his head tilts toward her in consideration. "It's still unfair." He admits with some small amount of amusement lingering in the accented tones of his voice.

does it look like he's still under your control?

SUNJATA

You're so cold

but you feel alive

She coughed and splurted for a while to dislodge what little of the liquid that had slipped into the wrong windpipe. Wiping the spilled drink from her chin, Maea glared at him, at the smug smirk and amusement; seeing him so casual when her face was once again flushed and marked with embarrassment (and perhaps other things, but she wanted to shove those as far back into her mind that they'd not even appear in dreams) making a rare temper, enough that her eyes flashed.

"What's unfair? That you didn't manage to drown me this time?" she snapped, practically hissing. The way her upper lip curled lended a feral quality to her, like a cat showing teeth in outrage. "Have the damn bottle if you're so desperate for it, see if I care!"

She made it come skidding towards him, pulled by the liquid inside. Turning her back to him, Maea tried to steady herself, regain some semblance of the calm she'd felt only moments before. But it was gone, vanished like smoke. All that remained was a nagging restlessness in her body, and the thick taste of regret in her mouth. So close... yet he hadn't kissed her. Hadn't even tried to.

Though... considering that he'd just broken up a marriage, miserable and spiteful or not... perhaps she should have been more worried if he had.

lay your hands on me

one last time

MAEA

they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes

he's a demon, with a crown of blood

Oh there’s some fire to her, as he finds out. And he’s not sure if it’s because he’s drunk, and as tall as he is in comparison to her, but it only adds to the amusement he feels within. Her lip curling – lips that had been so soft, so untried during their time at the river, that he focuses on her rather intently until the bottle comes skidding toward him and she turns her back to him. Ah, so perhaps he’d gotten under a nerve or two.

But she still has his attention, turning toward her with the bottle in hand now as it slides back toward her on the bar and he approaches from behind her, bending down a small amount to hover his head over her shoulder if she seems so insistent on staying. “Oh but I think you do care if I do, Maea.” He hums to her, a bit more serious now, voice deep and rough and relatively tired. “You wouldn’t have snatched it away from me if you didn’t.”

And he thinks that to be true, that the reason she stays is to see what happens. The longer she stays, the likelier it becomes. The likelier he comes to crossing that line, with the humming and purring in her ear.

does it look like he's still under your control?

SUNJATA

You're so cold

but you feel alive

It was a line that shouldn't be crossed. Not here, not now. Perhaps not ever. But she felt him inching closer to it as he leaned in, entering her space, peering down at her over her shoulder.

That she felt things for him was probably quite obvious, even though she tried her best to hide it. It was in the quiet attention she gave him, in the way she kept coming back even after he hurt her, how she made sure to check in, help out, be present. And physical attraction was only a trigger for it. Perhaps it would have ended up the same way if they had never kissed, if her only contact with him had been idle chats across the bar - only utterly one sided and hidden away, a secret to cry over in the lonely night.

But now? The way things were? It was a far more complicated beast altogether. Even in the midst of it all she could recognize how much of a disaster it would be if she ever let him close again. How easily he could destroy her, break and drag her down into the same darkness he inhabited.

"Maybe I just don't want to see you kill yourself with it" she countered, but it was a weak reasoning. No doubt he'd be sick as a pig from drinking so much, but it likely wouldn't get worse than that. Tensing, she twisted, shudders were crawling all over the back of her neck. Maea could feel heat from his body leech into her back, and was almost tempted to fall backwards, see what would happen if she leaned into him.

But she didn't. Just glanced up, turning her head ever so slightly to meet his gaze. She frowned at him, without much conviction.

lay your hands on me

one last time

MAEA

they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes

he's a demon, with a crown of blood

He’s entirely content to spiral into his darkness, to cocoon himself with it and leave everything a smoldering destruction in the eye of his storm. The freedom granted of not being chained or shackled, or caring or wanting to help, when it was evident he wasn’t particularly good at it, has him reaching for that shift more and more every day. As for this? It’s been a few hours likely, though he can’t really tell. He’s wallowed, he’s understood the implications.

And still, she remains, stealing the bottle and taking a drink of it for herself, while he attempts to drown himself with it, to forget about all the shortcomings, all the stupid things he’s done in his life – because gods it was an incredibly long list, with mistake after mistake made again and again. But her counter is weak, and she knows it and he knows it, and he gives her a fanged smirk as she twists to look at him, to meet his gaze.

“What do you want?” He purrs to her, deep and with the briefest hint of a husky roughness to it, debating reaching up to run a hand through the silk white of her hair, but his fingers tap idly on the bottle instead, waiting to see what she says.

does it look like he's still under your control?

SUNJATA

You're so cold

but you feel alive

Oh, that voice. It brought back memories, the very same memories she'd locked away just a moment ago. (She had, right? Quite certain.) Of fingers in her hair, lips against her skin, hunger and want and the taste on her tongue as she licked his neck. Kissed his mouth. It was all there, hovering in the space between his chest and her back, like a current of possibilities. Maea saw it in his eyes too, the knowing and the smirk, and she realized he was doing this on purpose. Because he could. Because... he wanted to?

Biting her lower lip, worrying at it in a way that might draw blood if she kept it up for too long, Maea tried to look past the insistent hum of her body that told her exactly what it wanted. See what else there was. There was a moment where she considered denying she wanted anything at all, but... He'd entrusted her with so much. Told her everything, without deception or attempting to hide who he was. A dangerous man, a bastard and a fool. But an honest man, too.

"I want to be your friend," she said, very quiet as she lowered her eyes. Hovering there, neither moving closer or walking away. "I want you to think of me as one. I want to trust you, and be trusted... and.. m-maybe sometimes, I want to be special. T-to you. Just.. just a little." Like he was becoming to her.

It was a whispered confession, a baring of her soul. A throwing away of all pretenses - because she had thought it too. That there was no ring now. No promises. Nothing wrong anymore... Except perhaps in wanting him at all. In daring to dream of anything that could break.

Swallowing, she continued; "I want to be a Loreseeker. A good one, who travels and makes discoveries. I want to see the world, travel it, live it... and with all that strength and the knowledge, I want to serve the Old Gods.

"And I want to change, enough that I can do all those things without being a burden to anyone. Without tying anyone down, or making them worry. Strong enough that no one can hurt me, even by mistake."

As she listed all her dreams, Maea wondered if Sunjata really would fit with any of them. Or if he was the kind of distraction that might make her pause, hesitate, alter her mind. Make her dream of things she'd already given up, that he did not want, that none of them wanted.

Perhaps it was not the kind of want he'd been asking to hear of, but there it was. All of her, in the ways that mattered to Maea. Laid out for him to break, if he was so inclined.

lay your hands on me

one last time

MAEA

they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes

he's a demon, with a crown of blood

The confessions come from a worrying lip, and he focuses on her with an intense precision, and he listens while she speaks, horned head tilted slightly as she begins with wanting time become his friend. And for a second, Sunjata has to take a second and wonder if he even really has those anymore, sure he had this Guildmates — a couple of them that didn’t entirely think he was lost —

“Special to you.” She stumbles and his head cocks a bit more, keeping that focus, hearing her confession loud and clear as the earring in his ear works to make her voice as though she’s said if right up against it. But he lets her finish it, letting go of the bottle and rubbing his hand against his neck, feeling the bite marks beneath them as he continues to consider her — the way she doesn’t move away nor come closer.

Was it all just a simple crush? Was it because he’d been her first kiss? Or did she think there was a possibility of something more lingering under the surface when he couldn’t even care for himself?

Their goals are similar in a sense, when it comes to exploration — Sunjata openly wishing to get the world available to them again… And well? He considers her carefully, smirks and playfulness disappearing, gaze flitting from her pale gaze to the bar around them. And when he speaks, his voice is hoarse, sore. “I do consider you a friend.” He begins, until his gaze finds hers again, searching her pale face. “But if this is anything to go off of, I’m not exactly portraying a trustworthy person.” He explains, gesturing to the bar, to himself and the bruises and the bites.

His mind whirls with everything, a few short hours of not being in a relationship any longer, body wracked and riddled with bites from someone else. “I can’t make promises Maea. But I can make you feel special, if you want that.” His dark brow raises considering her. “I can train you and get you stronger with your magic and your fighting.” He regards her and the crush laid out. “But I won’t give you anything serious, because obviously it fails.” A dark hum of a chuckle leaves him, glancing around the bar as though it’s proof itself and he focuses on her face again. “So if you want to have fun and feel special, learn and explore sometimes… Well. I can help you with that too.” Sunjata accepts the idea of her crush, giving her a soft crooked smile at that. But he’s done with anything more, anything deeper than that until he finds it in him to figure out what it is he wants to do with his life.

does it look like he's still under your control?

SUNJATA

You're so cold

but you feel alive

Heart thundering in her chest, in her head, the pulse was louder than the sound of his breathing and for a moment she was afraid. Trully, genuinely terrified of what she'd just done. It left her so vulnerable, like a wall teetering and ready to topple at the slightest push in any direction. Towards him, away from him, all at the mercy of his words. And if she'd learned anything so far, it was that she could only really trust his actions, because words... they meant very little unless lived by.

Eventually, what she got was a half reply. A shrugging kind of 'sure, why the heck' that came with conditions, clauses and again those lines in the sand. Drawing up a box of boundaries, rules... she could have him, but never make demands. Ask for things but never expect to get them. Have fun, but also never complain if that fun was not hers alone. It was acceptance and rejection all at once and... not exactly what she had been hoping for. Not that Maea knew what it was she'd wanted him to say, standing here in the rubbles of a shattered promise, with a man whose wife left because of teeth marks on his neck and wrist that spoke more plainly than explanations ever could.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Maea lowered her gaze and turned halfway towards him, moved to lean her back against the counter of the bar.

"Well... this is hardly any time to make decisions like that either," she said, still a bit red in the face. Eyes roaming the bar, the small oases of restored order in a desert of ruin. How many hours had passed since it all went down? It didn't matter, it would always be too soon. Her reply was somewhat evasive, stomach tight and churning from... what, she wasn't sure. Nerves, disappointment, excitement, all of it and none at the same time.

Mostly there was a sense of resistence. A strain against the idea of becoming some... plaything. A toy to be used and set aside when it got boring. But... perhaps that was just the ego talking.

lay your hands on me

one last time

MAEA

they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes

he's a demon, with a crown of blood

She turns halfway toward him, and his brow lifts toward her in silent consideration; but she leans back against the bar, arms wrapped around herself. He turns to lean a bit more forward, to look at the space behind the bar with a quiet sigh, a quiet agreement. But perhaps he could indulge her a bit more with his reasons, to accept her friendship with one of his own. “It’s the way I cope.” He begins, steel gaze sliding over to look at her face.

“I drink, and I lose myself with other people for a while.” A slight shrug, lifting the bottle to sip from again before his gaze flits around the mess that remained. “Makes it easier for me. But I’d understand if you didn’t want to dive in with something like that.” He offers, keeping his gaze at the bits and pieces of the bar that have been salvaged.

But his gaze slides back over to hers with a lingering hint of amusement sitting beneath. “I am flattered though.” A crooked tilt of his lips to that, not sure if he’s ever had anyone openly tell him they had a crush on him. “And I would like to explore Caido, too, once I have semblance of my life back in order.” Tattooed shoulders rise and fall with that.

does it look like he's still under your control?

SUNJATA

You're so cold

but you feel alive

It was not an escape she could truly understand, because she had never known that it might be possible to lose oneself in another person. The drink she understood, had seen the wreck it made of people - knew it for the crippling crutch it was - but the rest? Maea shrugged, a slight lift of thin shoulders that merely expressed her confusion at the attitude. Maybe she just equaled the needs of the body with the emotions he stirred up in her too much, unable to know that one could have one with the other, in both directions. That one could love without the need, need without love and that there was room in a heart for more than just one special person at a time.

All the same, she appreciated his candor. The explanation, for all that it showed him in all the ugly, broken, messed up state he was in. That he was amused by her was obvious, and Maea wondered if he was trying to make her feel less awkward. She squirmed a little, shifted nervously under that crooked smile, the idea that he might be laughing at her on the inside.

"Glad you appreciate it," she mumbled behind barely moving lips. Mortified. Unable to quite find the tone again. How was she supposed to look at him again without either accepting or declining that crude, messy offer of his? She wasn't sure what to do about it, both wanted it and not...

"At least there's that. Perhaps... that's the best place to start?" Being friends and allies. Traveling, learning, growing... and perhaps the rest would come on its own, the answer make itself clear with time. Daring a glance at his face, there was a quiet question in her eyes. Would he accept that kind of not answer? He'd made plain his own non-committment. Well, here was hers. Open to the idea of... things... but not leaping at them like it was the only thing that mattered.

And if everything else failed, she still wanted to be there for him. A friend. Someone to rely on, if only just a little.

lay your hands on me

one last time

MAEA

they made a mockery of him once 'look at the walking tragedy' now they whisper when he passes

he's a demon, with a crown of blood

He’d be willing to show her what it’s like, if he’s honest with himself. But he’s pretty sure he’s done chaining himself down when he could become so much more. His conversation with Safrin enough of an idea to show that he doesn’t have to help, that he’s probably just not good at it. This? A reinforcement of maybe he shouldn’t get his hands dirty anymore.

Wasn’t worth it.

And with nothing tying him down aside from the Guild anymore, what was there to stop him? Nothing. But she breaks the silence, awkward and stifled, and his fingers tap against the glass again as though he’s debating something internally. She comments again and he focuses on her, on the look she gives him, and he gives her a quiet smirk.

“Travel companions then?” A slight tilt of his head, horns reflecting the light around them with a gesture. “I will say this, though, if you did want to try out other things I’d be glad to be your first to that too.” He winks to her, turning toward the bar and reaching for the bottle again.

does it look like he's still under your control?

SUNJATA

You're so cold

but you feel alive

Except, she was in the kind of company that plunged head first into waters without even bothering to check if he would break his neck or not. Who didn't care one bit that she was both shy and insecure and completely inexperienced when it came to this kind of situation - relationships, flirting, dealing with people - and seemed to take a wicked sort of pleasure in seeing her blush. Which she did, turning scarlet at the blunt, straight to the point offer that swept all her illusions right away.

So maybe she had been wrong. Apparently he had not lost interest... and was clearly drunk enough not to keep up any kind of facade anymore.

"You've had enough of that," she snarled, after trembling, murderously painful moments of silence, unable to even properly respond to the overture. His reaching for the bottle was far easier a thing to lash out at, and with a quick snatch of magic, switching grip from water to telekinesis with almost practiced ease, she made it swoop to her hand. Then pushed away from the bar and stomped off for the trash bin, where she had thrown out all the rest of the useless, dangerous things. Fully intending to chuck it.

Anger made a fine replacement for flustered embarrassment. Nice and easy to hide behind.

lay your hands on me

one last time

MAEA