you’re looking to disappear

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

He’s drained, too. Too closed off from everything to pay attention as she begins to remove her wet, bloodstained clothes. Even the sound of them hitting the floor nearby does little to distract him from his thoughts, from the feeling of being such a failure for having done this – even if the quest had still granted a heart. A terrible end, a terrible way to start it off. And yet – yet he’s unsure where that leaves him.

Was it worth it for the shrine? His own stupidity? His own over assumption of how difficult the dragon would be – thinking it would be easier to talk to it, to try and convince it to come for Amalia when in the end the simple hello had already caused enough bloodshed. He trembles when she reaches for him, but at least his skin isn’t ice anymore. His heart is, but his body is warm, alive.

She presses in against him, holding him close and he’s half tempted to pull her away and put some distance between them, to tell her as he’s told many that to get close to him was dangerous because he was reckless, stupid, arrogant. He clenches his jaw, trying to refrain from the same old same of pushing people away. The last thing he needed was for her to leave him too.

He squeezes the bridge of his nose before inhaling sharply and tries to pull her into his lap, to hold her tight and press his head against her shoulder again, keeping her near in an effort, an attempt to change. “I’m sorry.”

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

MAEA

She half thought he would reject her presence. Push her away, continue his lonely descent into the abyss on his own. The relief was immense when he tolerated her touch, even pulled her up in his lap and returned his face to her shoulder, where it seemed he could stay forever if she let him. Maea would let him. If she had known what an effort it was for him not to withdraw, to actually try and accept her presence, her feeble attempts to comfort him, she might have wept in gratitude.

As it was, her chest just sqeezed tighter at his broken apology, like he'd done something to hurt her. She brought her hand back up to his hair, raisin-fingers light and tender as they stroked his neck, threaded through the damp curls with nails scraping soothing lines over his scalp. His scent was the same as always; one of smoke and whiskey and whatever horrible concoction he'd downed before. Of water and salt, and now the metallic tang of blood. Maea breathed it all in, leaning her cheek against the side of his head. Let loose a soft sigh.

At least he was talking again.

"I am too," she murmured to him. "Trade a thought for a thought?" It didn't matter what he said, just... Maea wanted to keep him talking, if possible. If he could.

It felt better than letting him drift back into the void.

"I keep wondering what happened to the others... Amalia, and Deimos. But didn't want to ask."

I'm bleeding out for you

BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

He half thought he would reject her presence too. But no, its an act of him trying, to do something different than he’d always done when it came to him and his loss, to tell them that it was better to stay away from him in the long run where he couldn’t get anyone else hurt. But that wouldn’t work here, would it? She was in too deep, and he was too lost without her as the moon to his dark sky.

She doesn’t protest when he pulls her into his lap, presses his face against her bare skin, holding back in the tide of emotions that swell and surge within him. She keeps the water warm, though he knows it should have been cold a while ago, and yet all he can do is hold her close for however long it is that he does. Her hands move through his hair, her cheek pressed against the side of his head, and he apologizes.

Though when she apologizes too, it doesn’t make sense to him. Why should she be? Instead, he listens as she wishes to trade a thought for a thought, the question of what happened to Amalia and Deimos, and his head shakes a small amount on her shoulder. “Amalia’s companion nearly died, Deimos’ companion was hurt too. Only Haai and I remained near the entrance to avoid getting too close.” He manages, though it takes him awhile, random pauses here and there.

“Deimos made a shield to keep us safe, Amalia and I tried to talk to the dragon into letting us take Adam and Peter back.” There’s a shiver that runs down his spike, raking across with a fierceness. “Deimos used his magic to get Coffee to us and we had to leave.” A shaking inhale, trying to understand how to keep talking. “I handed Coffee to them when I left to come here, but they're in the same condition I am.” Fine, but not mentally. Fine in their exterior but not internally.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

MAEA

His speech was staggered and slow, but it was there. His voice might be weak, hoarse, choked, but Maea heard him, and listened closely. "I see. I'm glad they are somewhat alright... at least physically." She thought of Zuriel, the proud unicorn that healed her during a lesson under Deimos tutelage. Thought back to her last encounter with Amalia, and found none of the old rancor at the sound of her name. Only relief that the childhood friend and her companion was not among the tally of dead.

"The dragon did not let you bring them back, then?" she said, swallowing back a new wave of grief as she was reminded of the losses. Urged him on, so proud over the way he managed to bring the words out despite the pain. Thanked him for trying with a long, lingering kiss to his neck - one that had nothing to do with their usual games and everything to do with access, comfort and encouragement.

The worst of the shock was settling in Maea. Like a dull, throbbing ache it remained within her, a wound that would need tending to later, processed in full, but at least she was a bit calmer now. Able to focus better on Sunjata. She scooped handfuls of water up to drizzle over his neck, to keep it warm, keep him warm, and couldn't help but nuzzle deeper into his arms. Settling herself comfortably against his chest, quite content to linger there for the rest of the night if need be.

Though, they probably should get out of the water eventually. It would get cold soon enough.

I'm bleeding out for you

BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

He nods against her but says nothing of agreement. He’s not sure what he would’ve done had Amalia been hurt, what may have happened to him for affecting two of the women that the General holds close. Perhaps that’s cowardly, but it is what it is. Instead, the mention of the dragon not letting them bring back the bodies is met with silence for a heartbeat or two before he can find the words to speak.

“No.” A quiet answer, a whisper against the quiet, withdrawn and exhausted but at least he’s clean now. She continues to run the water along his skin, despite the fact he feels as though he doesn’t deserve any of it, any sort of kindness granted to him. Hadn’t he told her he was a monster? Did she not realize that these weren’t the only ones that he’d had a hand in? Over and over again the thoughts circle back and he clenches his jaw again, a short breath against the tightness he can feel in his chest.

But he knows he can’t stay like this, that Haai is already warming the bed for them, that the blankets and everything else are ready for them. So he exhales after who knows how long, pulling away from her to search her face with that same hollow gaze. “We should dry off.” His voice is still thickly accented, but there’s nothing else to it. Hollow, flat.

He waits for her to slip away from his lap before he goes to stand, hands still trembling slightly but there’s exhaustion that linger in his face instead of the rage and sorrow of before. A cold, numb, shield of a broken mask slipped up along the sun-kissed bronze of his skin.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

MAEA

There were limits to what you could ask from a broken man. Maea sensed that she was reaching it, and reigned in her impatience as best she could. It wasn't that she wanted him to suddenly become cheerful and upbeat again - that would be slightly horrifying for a number of reasons - but perhaps she had hoped for some resolution to this crisis. For a revelation to set in, for some measure of light to return to his eyes... But when she looked these hopes over, she understood the folly of them.

Of course this would not be resolved in one night. It was a jagged wound cut deep into a half-healed chest, and healing would be slow. Not impossible, given time and patience, but not quick. Or easy. And with this understanding came a new determination. If he thought she would abandoned him for his mistakes, for the blood on his hands and the bad times to come, then Sunjata really did not know her at all. Maea was as stubborn as she was resolved to stick with him, and so far nothing of what she had seen of him repelled her. If the darkness of his thoughts scared her, it only made her more eager to look deeper so she could understand the shadows better, learn to love them just as much as she adored his storms and his silver linings.

"Alright," she agreed softly when he finally seemed ready to leave the bath. She eased herself from his lap and stood, the red-tainted water sloughing off her marble skin like some terrible rubies. She rinsed off under a trickle of fresh water brought on by magic, and would offer him the same, before she went to find towels. Bringing them back, Maea draped one around herself and opened the other for Sunjata, meaning to wrap him into it as though he was some oversized child. Of course he could take it and do it himself, but... she did not quite wish to relinquish this role of caretaker. Not just yet.

It was the only thing she could really do for him, to show her support.

I'm bleeding out for you

BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

She stands, rinsing off the scarlet tinged water and does the same for him. And he takes it, easily, unable to find the fight within him as she steps out and grabs a towel for herself and drapes one around him. He’ll let her care for him, for now, until she at least knows more about him. Decides whether or not its worth it to remain with someone so shattered, so broken, who wears a mask of duct tape and paper to try and pretend that things were okay. Even when they weren’t.

Who hides away with alcohol and cigarettes to keep the pain at bay a bit longer.

A quiet sigh leaves him as he dries off, reaching for some clean clothes, a pair of shorts or pants to keep warm from the icy chill that creeps in once more. And when he’s somewhat put together, he reaches for her again – hoping to pull her toward the bed as he crawls into it, pushing Haai toward the foot of the bed. The griffin goes without complaint, spreading out to warm the feet, choosing Maea’s side to have more freedom to move.

He slides in, pulling the blankets up close, back to the wall and front facing her as he rests his head along a pillow, shutting his eyes for a few quiet, somber moments, before he finally figures out what he wants to say. “I have to tell you some things about me.” He manages, eyes opening to try and find her pale face in the dark. “And I want you to decide if you want to stay.” Stay with me. To still be mine.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

MAEA

He tolerated her ministrations, and Maea was grateful for it. It would have been so easy to shrug her off, and she would not have protested. Knew she shouldn't force anything, because it was not what he needed, what he wanted. So afraid of creating a cage around him, so terrified of driving him away by loving too hard, too visibly... though she knew it probably shone through anyway, for all that she tried to hold herself back.

She found some clothes for herself too, plain undergarments that provided the bare modicum of modesty and let him grab her, bring her to the bed. Maea took a moment to pet Haai over the head, whispering quiet words of gratitude and sympathy for the frigths the griffin had experienced, for the stoic tolerance it had for Sunjata's no doubt messy mind... But before long she too crawled in beneath the blankets, tucking herself in beside him, with Haai nestling into the crook of her legs.

It was... still not a natural thing, this bedding down together. It still felt foreign, new, a terribly wonderful thing that she was allowed to lie in his bed like this. Especially without the roaming hands, the hungry eyes, the smoldering heat in the blood to distract her. In the silence, she tried to acclimatize herself to it, somehow accept it as a new normal. Not an easy thing, especially not tonight.  

Then he spoke, and her attention was brought sharply back to Sunjata. Wide eyes met his, shocked at the seriousness of what he said, what he implied... that she might not want to remain with him once she learned what he had to say.

Maea bit back an urge to tell him she would never leave. Knew it would be foolish, when she had no idea what was coming. So she nodded instead, accepting his offer - though she raged against it on the inside - and curled up on her side, facing him. Hands within easy reach should he want them, gaze attentive.

"I will listen," she promised. To the end. Until there is nothing more to say.

I'm bleeding out for you

BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

Her eyes are wide when his question is said aloud. But he doesn’t stop, doesn’t shy away. She needs to know and she needs to learn what it is she’s getting into if she wants to somehow figure out what’s going on in his mind. It’s a longshot, and many of these things he hadn’t told anyone. Phoebe knew some things, Lusea knew them all because she had been there, Peter knew… But Peter was gone now. And so he inhales deeply, shatteringly, refraining from touching her to simply watch her face as the words leave his lips.

“I told you that Korofi was a hard place to grow up in.” He recalls the talk of their swim test, the way they kept population in control, things of that nature. “Growing up they would condition us to try and become the next Arbiter. My father was ruthless in it but I was too soft, I didn’t… Want to hurt anyone.” A brief pause. “Every year when at least ten boys turned seventeen, mostly noble or families who could afford to buy them entry, they’d take part in a Trial.” He wonders if he’s mentioned the Trial before in passing, can’t recall if he had.

“The Trial was what determined who would be the best fit to take the Arbiter’s place, so they would take all the boys and dump them into a pit of mud with knives and swords and see who lived to the end.” His pause is longer here, searching her face. “I… Won my trial. Someone had brought a gun into the pit to try and get me first. I ended up killing seven or eight boys that day…” He can’t look at her then, shifting to lay on his back and stare at the ceiling.

“And they pulled me out of that fucking pit, posted my picture everywhere, painted me as the hero to save the Senzaoks, covered in blood and mud. Only my mother saw what it did to me.” His jaw clenches. “So I stayed away from everyone for a year or so until they started making me go to training to become an Enforcer. During that time I planned on how to take down my father, learned as much as I could to try and get close to him, to pretend to be this other version of me that he wanted me to be. But they stationed me at the hardest place after a while, in the Slums with a variety of men to watch over. I’d lost a few in some brawls with the rebellion, and our mission had been to find where the rebellion began…”

“I did… One day when it was raining terribly bad, I couldn’t… Handle, it anymore. The constant feeling of pretending to be something different with no hope in sight. So I went to the rooftop to test myself, to see… If maybe I’d take that extra step. The building was a bit smaller than the Spire, but tall enough off the ground.” She’d know what he means. “And when I looked down… I found a couple notable faces of the rebellion, reckless in their attempts to hide their entrance because they'd gotten into a brawl.”

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

MAEA

She lay very still beside him as she listened. Quiet as a ghost, still as a pale shadow in the gloom; she was warm and safe but the story that unfurled from his lips was enough to chill her to the core.

Boys fighting to the death in the mud. A life of terror, trying to find weaknesses in a man that should have been the safest of people, with only a few people to fall back on, and never quite trust even then. Struggles, not being where he wanted to be, not knowing where to go...

The terrible, lonely desperation of standing on a rooftop, with only a step between him and an end...

Maea did not interrupt him. Did not say anything, and kept her thoughts to herself. For once her face was quite impossible to read... but she listened. Knowing there was more to come.

I'm bleeding out for you

BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

She lets him speak, and for that alone he’s thankful. “So I had a choice, I could… Abandon, the attempts I’ve made on my own to take the monarchy down and use what I knew to fight with the resistance if they’d let me… Or I could uncover them. I told my men my father had called me away for private work, slipped away to find the entrance.”

He pauses then. “They didn’t trust me, obviously. Because my face had been plastered around for the last couple of years. They knew who I was. And so I offered to box for them, because it might help to get some of their frustrations out if they could kick my ass and see that I wasn’t about to run off and tell my father. And they let me… Lusea’s father, let me, I should clarify. And I did. But then my mother was killed and the whole thing happened with Lusea and I and the resistance, and things were… Okay. We were fine. And then some other noble from a different county that had been working for the resistance ratted out our location to my father.”

A shaky inhale, but he closes his eyes tightly as he pushes through it all. “They captured us and took us back home to my fathers. Locked us up in our prison and tortured her for weeks and forced me to watch. After all of that, he brought us up to the foyer and surrounded himself with guards and continued to tell me that I had been the reason this happened, falling in love with someone lowly. Asking her if she regretted it.” Somehow, somehow, there’s a hint of a smile that crosses his face. “She spit on him, told me she loved me.” A pause, the smile fading as quickly as it had arrived. “And he slit her throat.”

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

MAEA

It was so hard not to reach for him. Her hands ached to take his, braid her fingers into his and squeeze them tight. She did sense that this was not the time or the moment however, that any contact would have to come from him at this point. Maea's task was to listen and understand... and make a choice? Like she hadn't already chosen, one early LongHeat day by a river.

It was easier to hear him speak of the rebellion, because it was clear it had been a good time for him. Lusea's name was familiar to her, and while Maea couldn't quite ignore a slight tightening of jealousy in her stomach as he talked about her, it was nothing so strong that she couldn't suppress it. Look through it, and see the good she had done for Sunjata. Lusea had loved him, and he loved her back, and then...

Horror. Pity. Maea felt sick to visualize the things he described, of torture and death, and her raw emotions were stirred up again. Tears burning behind her eyes, throat thick and tight with them. Swallowing, the girl blinked and drew a deep breath; not sure if she wanted to cry for Lusea or for him.

Perhaps it was a bit of both.

I'm bleeding out for you

BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

He doesn’t look at her. “And the guards held me back, with a blade to my throat and I surged against it.” His voice grows quieter, wondering if she’ll see the scar that faces her, that it was likely fatal if not for the stitches and healing he had survived. “And they let me go once I was bleeding too, my father had left, and I held her until she died and I passed out.” From blood loss, from the pain of it all.

“When I woke up they had fixed me, brought me back to the foyer she died in and arranged a marriage for me and Saartjie.” He's quiet for a moment longer. “My father claimed that I had been a spy for the rebellion, put it out everywhere until people believed it as truth, and tried to fix me to continue the line and take his place. Only I didn’t, the only way out was if there wasn’t anyone to marry to.” His jaw clenches again and he’s silent for a good while.

“So I... killed them, took Saartjie with me and we left Korofi.”

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

MAEA

In the end, it was impossible to hold back the tears. There was too much pain in the story he told, even if Sunjata's voice sounded quite impassive most of the time. Like he was reciting the recap of someone else's life. Only occationally did he hesitate or stagger, and the little snags only cut her deeper, because they told the truth. This was his story. Plain and ugly and brutal, full of death and despair... just like he had told her, once. Maea had not really believed him.

Her breathing remained slow and even, but the hot rolled unhindered down the sides of her face. She blinked, squeezed the eyes closed for a moment in the hopes to stave them off, but it didn't work. Still her hands ached, and Maea wished he would look at her. His profile in the dim light was too alien when she did not have his eyes there to drown in. She realized that she had never really bothered to look properly at his face before. Not like this, truly seeing it. Not just the beautiful parts with the strong jaw, the high brow and long eyelashes, but the scars. The lines, the frowns, all those little imperfections that were so very easily ignored for a girl with love in her eyes.

How very human he was.

She raised a hand and wiped at her cheeks, trying to move as little as possible. Scared of interrupting, before his tale was told in full. There should still be some things left. Time after Korofi, time spent in the Grounds before she stepped into a bar, and learned not to fear the strong hands that rested on top of the counter. Before she knew he existed.

I'm bleeding out for you

BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3