your hands are scarred from murder

MAEA

It was late by the time she got back. The trip from the Spire portal to the Domicile usually took no time at all, but it felt like she had been walking for hours by the time she finally made it to the VlamVloed. Walking stiffly, Maea chose to go around the building and slipped in very quietly through the back door. The hall was still full with the murmur of voices and drunken laughter, the scent of smoke, drink and food filling the air. Usually it made her smile, but this time it only turned her stomach, and without drawing much attention to herself, Maea slipped off towards her room and pulled the door after her.

She was so tired, didn't even notice it was left slightly ajar. The bed seemed a heat mirage to her, so very far away all across the other side of the room. Wincing, she began to peel off her hunting leathers, but found the motions all but impossible to manage. She couldn't bring her arms higher than to the elbows, and there was an insistent, pounding pain in her neck that was nastily familiar.

With the tunic only halfway off, Maea had to slump down on the chair next to the small table, sweating and cursing under breath. This was ridiculous. How could it still hurt this much?

Lost in a world full of non-believers
Searching for smoke in a still water pond

BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3

SUNJATA

the flood

with every breath and every intake
tip toe further away

Of course he sees her when she arrives through the back door, slipping past the bar to her room. He might be drinking a bit more, smoking a bit more than usual as well, but he’d always spot her. He’d been listening to a patron drone on and on about the heat, the way there wasn’t a good way to cool off within the Grounds, and to be honest he finds it rather trivial. But she’s a good distraction for him to slip away, most of the regulars realizing now that they’re together. And that Sunjata hadn’t seen her for a while.

So he has someone else cover for the rest of the night, slips away with a glass in his hand only about three fourths of the way full, and a cigarette perched between the fingers that hold onto the glass. He doesn’t bother with knocking when he reaches the door, slipping it open and stepping within to see her sitting at a chair, trying to peel the hunting leathers from her person. “Maea.” He hums quietly to her, in a sort of greeting, before setting the glass on the table and takes a drag from the cigarette as he does a somewhat visual check to see how she is.

“What happened?” He asks in a puff of smoke, cigarette hanging loosely from his lips, crouching down before her and resting a hand along her leg — the other reaching up to cup her cheek. ’Where did you go? Are you okay?’

further away from this mistake
i'm no savior, i'm no saint

MAEA

She should have known he would see her. Probably Maea should have come up to the bar to say hi, before going off to her room, but... she was so tired. Bone weary, sore and stiff... not at all in the mood to smile at the other patrons, dodge their questions or explain why she walked with a slight limp. She'd half hoped to be off to sleep by the time Sunjata came to check on her, buried deep in the covers of the bed and gone to the world... but no such luck.

Looking up as he pushed open the door, she managed a faint smile in greeting, that faded as she made another attempt at slipping her arm out of the sleeve hole and failed as every muscle in her back screamed to stop. The girl looked a mess. Her hair was matted and clumped with salt, clothes similarly stained and still half damp. Blood had crusted in the scalp over one temple; some attempts had been made to rinse it off, but it still clung like flakes of rust to the hair and in streaks along the neck... and there were curious spots on her shirt that looked like more blood, but of a slightly different color. More green than red.

"Sunjata," she said, weary but still affectionate. "I'm okay, I just - ow!" She hissed at he put his hand on her leg, flinching away from the touch as a pounding pain made itself reminded. "I... just... overdid a little, is all." She tried to sound reassuring, and leaned her cheek into his palm. (At least that didn't hurt... hurray.)

A blatant lie, it was. But she didn't want to make him worry. Not after everything.

Lost in a world full of non-believers
Searching for smoke in a still water pond

BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3

SUNJATA

the flood

with every breath and every intake
tip toe further away

She certainly doesn’t look okay. And as she flinches away from the hand he places on her leg, he removes it and pulls the cigarette from his lips, resting the hand on the table instead, but runs his thumb along her cheek as she leans into the other touch. His brows furrow slightly as he takes in her appearance, the blood dried from her temple, how much she needs a shower of all things, how she struggles to remove the clothes she wears.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and you can tell me about it?” He suggests, running his hand from her cheek to her chin, raising a brow in quiet question before withdrawing. He rests one knee on the floor, downs the drink, before he recalls that there was a shower upstairs — no need to pull in a bath or anything of that nature like they had in Halo. And the upstairs had been relatively unused — remaining there for when he couldn’t stay in the Advocates and had no other place to stay.

It’s been a place he’s frequented a lot lately when she’d been gone, when he’d returned from Halo and had found her room to be cold when she wasn’t there, found the Advocates too open. “There’s a shower upstairs, can you make it up there or do you want me to carry you?” He rumbles, tilting his head to her curiously, moving to stand.

further away from this mistake
i'm no savior, i'm no saint

MAEA

Closing her eyes, she savored the comfort in his touch. His hand was steady and warm, very strong and very capable, and Maea was tired enough that she could have fallen asleep on it, right there. Sitting up, with the tunic awkwardly trapping her arm like Wicker Woman branches. He withdrew it all too soon, however, and she reluctantly looked up again at his question. Glanced to the bed, longing to just topple onto it and black out.

But she was sticky. And itchy from the salt. And it would only get worse if she slept in it, let the skin dry out and become flaky. The girl sighed. "I can walk," she said, with a tone of someone who lamented this fact very much.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed the arm back out through the sleeve again - it hurt just as much as trying to bring it the other way, and left her gasping for breath - but with a pained sigh she stood. Swaying a little. Then began to drag herself off towards the door again, like some shuffling undead. There was a definite limp to her step, on the leg she'd favored from his touch.

Lost in a world full of non-believers
Searching for smoke in a still water pond

BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3

SUNJATA

the flood

with every breath and every intake
tip toe further away

She tells him she can walk though he finds it hard to believe as she begins to make her way back to the door. He puts out the cigarette in a nearby ashtray, focusing his attention on her slow moving frame, opening the door for her to pass through and to guide her the way upstairs. It doesn’t bother him how long it takes, the only thing that bothers him right now is wondering what she’d gotten into, where the blood had come from, how much of it were hers…

He keeps a hand hovering by her back just in case she needs support, until the stairs are reached and up they go to slip behind another door. This one, he locks behind him after she’s entered. The interior is dark, though he slips away from her side to light some of the candles and lanterns within, bringing a room to life with a large bed in the center, a couple desks stashed off to the sides, a table with a couple of chairs — the master bedroom in a sense, should one like it exist.

The bathroom is attached off on a wing opposite of the entrance, and he gestures her to follow him into it as he lights more light to brighten the room before he turns on the water to the shower to get it heating up.

further away from this mistake
i'm no savior, i'm no saint

MAEA

She felt dead on her feet. Every step was an effort. Maea was vaguely aware of Sunjata looming behind her, ready to pick her up should her legs fail her, and some stubborn part made that all the more reason to keep moving on her own. To push herself a little more, try a little harder, so she wouldn't fall behind. Wouldn't become a burden on him.

He guided her to a room she hadn't been in before. Maea stood in the dark while he kindled the lights within, knowing she should help but unable to bring herself to do anything. Not until she was directed to the bathroom, and she had to force her unwilling body to move again. He made the water come on, and Maea began a new attempt to peel her tunic off. This time she tried to ease it off over her shoulders, but the leather was hard and stiff from being dunked in salt water, and her shoulders were so tender she almost wept after getting it halfway up over the chest. Then, finally, it slipped off, and half the shirt was brought with it over her head, exposing her back and sides.

They were splattered with color. Large, splotchy bruises rippled across both ribs and shoulderblades in hues of purple and green, showing signs of having actually bled through in places. They continued down her hip on one side, disappearing beneath the salt-stained breeches.

"Ow," the girl groaned, half-sobbing as she began to untangle herself from the shirt, only half succeeding.

Lost in a world full of non-believers
Searching for smoke in a still water pond

BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3

SUNJATA

the flood

with every breath and every intake
tip toe further away

He turns to her once he’s turned the water on, watching for a moment in silence as she finally gets the tunic off, and he frowns slightly at the bruising and blood that’s clung to her. But he doesn’t stand still for long, kneeling before her again where she sits, he lets his gaze flicker over her pale skin, bruising of a different type coloring her skin. She tangled herself within the shirt and he reaches forward to try and help her, try to keep her from moving as much as possible and touching any of the bruises.

“You overdid it?” He asks quietly, though there’s some clear hoarseness to his voice — wondering what it was she was doing anyway. “What were you doing?” He finally asks, hoping that he’s gotten her free from her shirt to better evaluate the damage, how he could try to hold her without hurting her — seemed impossible at this moment.

His gaze flits to her almost expectantly, dark brow lifting in question — gaze reflecting some sort of deep fear.

further away from this mistake
i'm no savior, i'm no saint

MAEA

She struggled to get free, and only seemed to tangle herself even more. Then his hands were there to help, and Maea sighed a hoarse breath of relief when the shirt came off, leaving her torso bare save for the chestcloth. There weren't quite as many bruises on her front as there was on her back, though her ribs had outlined in faint blue against the white skin, and it was clear one side of her had been hit a bit harder than the other. It did hurt when he touched her, but no more than it did just to breathe or sit upright, and she did not complain about it, beyond what small winces she couldn't entirely suppress.

But nor would she meet his gaze when Sunjata asked what she'd been up to. Worrying at her lip with nervous teeth, she could hear the unsteadiness of his voice. Feared what she might look like to elicit such a look on his face. That bad? It was that bad, huh... With a sigh, Maea reached into a pocket and fished something out, that she held in her balled up fist.

"I, eh.. went hunting. In Torchline. And... the Cloud Manta I went after... well, it, it fell on me." A little sheepish, half embarrassed at the ridiculousness of the confession and just as afraid to hear the reaction, she held out her palm. Opened her fingers.

A small crystal lay on her palm. Round as a pearl and not much bigger, though far heavier than it seemed. Reflecting the light of the candles in the room, it seemed to shimmer. It was, Maea thought, rather beautiful.

"I found the crystal though." It was said in a tentative way as she looked up, searching him for whatever expression. Bracing a little for... well, Maea wasn't even sure.

Lost in a world full of non-believers
Searching for smoke in a still water pond

BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3

SUNJATA

the flood

with every breath and every intake
tip toe further away

She doesn’t meet his gaze, and instead she pulls out an item of sorts and lets it settle in her hand as it‘s balled up, preventing him from seeing what’s inside. His gaze flies to her face instead when she speaks, talking of Cloud Mantas and how it had fallen on her, and his frown deepens somewhat. He’s not sure entirely what it means, not until he sees the trinket in her hand and his head tilts.

Where once he might have held some anger, some rage at what had happened, how foolish she had been to try and go at it alone (because he doesn’t know that she indeed wasn’t alone) that part of him is empty. And instead, he reaches for the crystal to inspect it with his own gaze.

After a few moments he looks up to meet her gaze, searching her for something while he holds his same impassive look, unable to read the thoughts in his mind through a shadowed steel. “Is it so you can swim and breathe beneath the water?” Ronin had done it, when he’d swam with Remi and the Dark Star. And it had worked then, impossibly well.

further away from this mistake
i'm no savior, i'm no saint

MAEA

His lack of reaction was if possibly more worrying than anything else. Though she searched his eyes for some clue as to what he might be feeling - she usually managed just fine on that front - there was, for once, not even a hint to be found in the gray clouds behind gaze. Nor did his voice help, because it was very even, very calm... though, perhaps the words were a bit too casual? Maea swallowed. Nodded.

"I... wanted to get one, so I could go swimming with you. Not just by the surface, near the shore but... deeper, and further. I thought, if I had this, I wouldn't slow you down... by needing to... breathe so... often..?"  

The further she came in that scentense, the more the girl shrunk under his gaze, and the quieter her voice became. Maea all but held her breath, waiting for this looming threat of a storm to break, or clear or... anything.

It... did not really help that she knew it'd been a reckless thing. "But I'm fine, really!" she tried to add, quickly before he could interrupt. "I was healed, so it's not bleeding anymore and the concussion is gone. Well... mostly. and the bruises... should be a lot better than they were too." Maea attempted a smile, hoping this would cheer him up. It could have been worse! It had been worse, but wasn't anymore. Great, right?

Right?

Lost in a world full of non-believers
Searching for smoke in a still water pond

BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3

SUNJATA

the flood

with every breath and every intake
tip toe further away

She tells him it’s because she wanted to go swimming with him, to not tire him out when in the end? It didn’t matter to him how long she lasted or how many times they’d have to stop, so long as she was there. But he searches her face as she speaks, watches her shrink beneath his gaze so he looks to the curls of steam coming from the shower. At least, until she mentions she’d been healed.

“Were you alone?” He asks quietly, surprisingly so, finding his attention returning to her to see her answer. He’s assuming that either she wasn’t, or she had seen someone shortly after for it. But it still didn’t relieve him any, and he finds a muscle feather in his jaw as he focuses on her again. “You were seriously hurt.” He says somewhat flatly.

And he hadn’t been there, she hadn’t asked him to come help her. Perhaps he could’ve prevented it? He clenches his jaw again in quiet consideration, still unreadable, but clearly not buying her excuses for doing such a reckless thing.

further away from this mistake
i'm no savior, i'm no saint

MAEA

Maea was quick to shake her head at the question - a little too quick perhaps, because the motion tugged on her sore muscles and made her wince. That shift in his jaw was one she had learned to read as a bad sign. Clearly her attempts to reassure him were not working this time.

"No, I... I arranged for a local to come with. He knew where the Cloud Manta's were, and... well..." Maea flinched at his reproach, at the tone - so flat, so even as if it was all he could do to hold back - and again she swallowed. Felt a bit like a child being scolded for climbing too high into a tree... or perhaps a student gone off to attempt something that really should have required years of study. She supposed it was apt... Sunjata was her teacher, in a sense. He'd taught her to use the bow, after all. The very one she had taken along for this little quest of hers.

"I... shot the manta first," she went on, going back to explain the details. Perhaps that would help, would tell him she hadn't been entirely thoughtless. "And then he cut at it with a sword, but the manta knocked me over with its fin. And when I got back up, he'd stabbed it really deep, and it was falling. Would have landed on him, so I... I sort of ducked in between? To make a shield, so he wouldn't get crushed. It worked! Well, until the manta fell onto the shield. Then it sort of... collapsed, onto me.

"Too heavy," she rounded off, by way of explanation. A bit lamely, with a feeling that she wasn't doing herself any favors.

Lost in a world full of non-believers
Searching for smoke in a still water pond

BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3

SUNJATA

the flood

with every breath and every intake
tip toe further away

’Arranged for a local. He knew where they were.’ The muscle feathers again and he tilts his head somewhat avian like again, stormy eyes focusing on her. He’s not sure what to say to that, but he doesn’t have to as she begins to continue on, about how she’d shot it and how the other man had stabbed it and she had jumped into the center to create a shield… only to have the shield fail.

He exhales a long and slow breath, smelling of smoke and whiskey before he looks back to the shower. Somewhere internally he wants to know why she hadn’t brought him along instead, made some sort of adventure. But he knows that’s not the true root of the problem for him — the problem was that she was hurt and he was unaware, didn’t know, and after Lusea and recently with Peter and Adam, Sunjata has a harder time trying to deal with protecting those closest to him when he knows he can’t.

“I see.” Is what he says, because he knows it’s a problem with himself mostly. He frowns again before standing, hands outstretched for her to stand with him so he can get her into the shower. “Did he heal you, then?”

further away from this mistake
i'm no savior, i'm no saint