all you have is your fire

to be lit up from within

vein by vein

Exploration and curiosity never faded from her bones, from her body, from her mind, from her soul – open and wandering, a flame to the endless wakes of sea beds and foam, pressing her feet into the rocky shoal, aching to launch along its surface. It was an ancient, illustrious pull, an entanglement of realms and kingdoms she’d been forced to consign to oblivion, cherishing the warmth of the sand shifting between her toes, the aching relish of lineages and ancestry she couldn’t have again. Fangorn lingered for a few moments before bounding after the cries of gulls, and she followed, a whirlwind of laughter in her chest, billowing and serenading the landscape.

Because opportunities lay before her, and she could imagine dancing along wooden planks and ships, staring out across veneers of glass and currents, of becoming alive and more than the shadow of so many other blistering things. She could almost envision a cannon before her, the weight of its might, of its peril, of its distinction, in the palm of her hands, in the tug of strings.

And for once, she might not have anything to leave behind – because the world churned and burned, because there were so many others whims and temptations, and they strayed into frays so many times.

to be the sun

MELITA

i try to keep it in line, maybe i'm just not the one

The blue form of birds darting around above wasn’t uncommon for Torchline, as Sunjata had come to find out. The land was tropical enough, his macaw form tended to blend in relatively well against the sky or the seas, even with how navy it had become. Only this time, this time when he takes to the sky, he’s searching for someone.

After quite awhile of searching, of scanning the cliffs and beaches, he finally spots a woman exploring the beaches along lines and rocks, and with it a hint of relief at the fiery red hair. He’d been terrible at keeping up with others aside from his own tragedies, his own story, and with it in mind he lowers himself from the sky. Blue melds to human, shirtless and scarred – though it’s far too warm for too many clothes – and he gives her a small wave of greeting along the beaches shore.

Jogging to catch up to her, he tries to offer her an apologetic smile. “Melita.” He rumbles, coming to stand before her, steel gaze lingering on the shorter form before him.

but you know i would

SuNJATA

to be lit up from within

vein by vein

Her eyes graced along the skyline, staring into the endless sun, the triumphant roll of the waves, sea breeze pressing, kissing over her skin – something to relish, something to hold, when there wasn’t much else for her to clench and grasp. Friends scattered here and there. Her companion. Her strength. Those were things she could lean upon, know, understand.

As she lingered along the sands, chasing after the gulls, unwinding from the tempestuous edges of mercurial whims and capricious folds, her name called across the surf. Raising her head, away from the fanciful shells attracting her attention, away from the currents enticing her to join, and suddenly, Sunjata was in her path.

Not expected, not really.

Maybe she didn’t have the right to be bitter about it; his forced presence in her life, the only being, the only thing, she could still consider family, gone off and leaving her behind. She might not been worth his attention, not after one catastrophe after the other (had they even really talked after that disastrous wedding?). Not when he had too many other individuals haunting the bar, quite literally as she thought of Maea. But she couldn’t help but feel forgotten.

He hadn’t even known she still lived there.

She ceased her movement and stood along the dunes, Fangorn colliding and clambering on ahead, unaware of the happenings behind him. Her eyes narrowed, and the spikes of her temper started to flare again, hands clenching into fists, bound down by her sides, bare toes kicking at the warm granules. The youth didn’t bow her head though, staring straight at him, with her smile dimmed and gone, with her eyes narrowed, speculative, surly. “Sunjata.” Her gaze was steel too, though flecked with gold, raising her chin in her usual brand of defiance, seditious and fighting to the rancorous end. She picked up on the scars, both new and old, and the frown failed to fade, crossing her arms over her chest. Not busy with your ghost today? hung on her jaw, but instead, she said nothing else.

to be the sun

MELITA

i try to keep it in line, maybe i'm just not the one

She’s still pissed at him, and with good reason he decides. He hadn’t recalled that she’d been remaining at the bar, hadn’t sought her out while his life was shaky and falling apart. And he curses himself internally for the misstep, too distracted, too… Not there, to realize where his own family was. The last time he’d seen her had been the Longheat festival, and that felt like weeks at this point. But he still carries the little rock she’d given him, a good luck charm as of late, and he shoves his hands into his pockets as he regards her.

There’s no reason for small talk, so he exhales quietly, looking to the clouds and Hels above as they flit around them – cooing and cawing – before he focuses on her again. “I owe you an apology, heuningby.” He begins, clutching the rock in his pocket as he remains in place, letting her decide if she wants to decide to stay or go. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around. A lot has happened but that’s no excuse for not realizing you were still staying at the VlamVloed. Ek is jammer.” The truth to his words reflect in the steel gaze that scans her face for a reaction – half expecting the Korofi fire to flit and pulse, half hoping it does.

but you know i would

SuNJATA

to be lit up from within

vein by vein

Her eyes segmented to the Hels above only briefly; the rest of her attention seared directly at the Flood, glare narrowing to finer pricks of gold and fire. She’d like to set him alight right where he stood, for rampaging off and gallivanting around in stupid, asinine circles, for recklessly abandoning any thought process. The youth could relate to impetuous acts, but his had become an overwhelming, suffocating series, clustered and held along the bar, and then tossed back out into the world. She would’ve gladly assisted, talked, or conversed like they had when building the memorial wall, when she thought she’d had family amongst the ghosts and wraiths. She considered him then, with a tilt of her head that might look feyish if she wasn’t so enraged; dangerous, lethal, a menacing, predator assimilation across the sands – where she belonged, pressed into sand and spewing vitriol, laden in Dragon’s Throat parallels. “I would’ve helped you. Through any of this.” Arms crossed, laden along her chest, the air of venom pervading, surrounding her essence. Irritated, vexed, annoyed, and exasperated. She’d believed she wouldn’t be forgotten once kin was back in her life – betrayed quickly, an error in judgement.

The honeybee girl considered not forgiving him. It would be in her nature to hold the grudge, the bitterness, the rancor, for the rest of her lifetime. She let it simmer in the wake of her lungs, in the restless twitch of her fingers, yearning to annihilate something. “I didn’t think I’d be tossed aside.” Her gaze didn’t leave his, reckless and emboldened, audacious and infernal, a conflagration brewing behind their accord, their essence. “I certainly wouldn’t do that to you.”

to be the sun

MELITA

i try to keep it in line, maybe i'm just not the one

She would have helped him, like she’d helped him when Lusea died. And he hadn’t cared to reach out, hadn’t wanted to, hadn’t thought to reach out to her aside from following her to the Crimson Cataract. And he’s not entirely sure why that was – though the further down he looks, the further dark the path becomes, and he realizes perhaps that it might be shame. So he swallows hard, dipping his head to her as if her gaze alone would set him afire.

“I know.” A quiet admission, her arms crossed and venom leaving her words. And all Sunjata has to offer is the quiet hint of defeat, that he knows he should have, that he likely wouldn’t have gotten into a situation like this had he reached out. But it’s perhaps the rest of it that bothers him the most – whether it was true or because he hadn’t realized his actions were like that.

So his gaze lifts to meet her fire again, his own a shadowed steel. “I didn’t intend to.” At least that part was true – he hadn’t tried to do it, hadn’t gone out of his way to forget about her. It had just happened, but that didn’t mean it was okay. Because none of it was. “I know you wouldn’t have. I’m sorry.” Another confession. “I didn’t mean to, it just happened.”

but you know i would

SuNJATA

to be lit up from within

vein by vein

She didn’t want his defeated platitudes, his languished attitude. Perhaps half her inclination was to fight fire with fire, bristle and grate until one of them exploded. But all she received in return were the leagues of regrets and rue, and she couldn’t kindle, spark, or instigate anything from those, except her own embers. They continued their simmering exposition in the back of her mind, stoked with each shadowed gaze and quiet admission, her jaw clenching, enamel grinding, lips ready to poise in some predatory, raised hackle. The youth thought about strangling him, wrapping her hands around his neck and merely tossing him back and forth until he did something other than moor or mire himself down these ramparts. The fortifications were all warped and desperate, sinking and anchoring, tying and tethering, into all these unknown ventures she couldn’t possibly fathom. And for what? And why? “Apologies don’t mean anything unless you’re truly going to do something about it.” Change some mode, some agenda, so he wasn’t pressing maddened wares and harebrained schemes into the cluster and cloister of the earth.

Melita didn’t look away, every inch the fiery beacon from the Dragon’s Throat, laden with her father’s ire and her mother’s compassion, a mixture of vitriol, animosity, and benevolence; twisted, gnarled now, in the shape of conflagrations and infernos. She heaved a great breath, and Fangorn must’ve felt it in their bond, finally returning from chasing down gulls, his eyes on the Hels at first, and then on the pair poised upon the sands, the beach, the swell of turf along rock-laden coasts and frustrated wiles. Her chin continued to take on its defiant role, jutted out, the way she stood more akin to some warrioress prowess, as if Sunjata didn’t have almost a foot of height on her. “You’re going to destroy yourself if you don’t get your head out of your ass.”

to be the sun

MELITA

i try to keep it in line, maybe i'm just not the one

A muscle feathers briefly in his jaw at the way she tells him his apologies won’t work. He knows this, deep down, and yet he still feels them important to say. So he nods to her, puffing out a small sigh to try and relief the tension in his jaw. “You’re right.” He says, half waiting to add to it when she picks up again, the Hels above them circling and crowing their interest while Sunjata feels nothing but guilt rampaging through his mind, soul, body.

“And to that too.” He agrees, because he would end up destroying himself if he wasn’t careful. Only… He didn’t know how not to. So he lets his gaze drift about her face, the red hair, the crashing of waves in the back. Maybe he’s an idiot to admit it, maybe he’s stupid and childish and will never know how to fix himself. Or maybe… Maybe he could try, with those who cared.

So his head tilts curiously toward her, some hidden glimmer in his gaze. “I’m not sure how to change.” He admits, but the brow he raises seems to ask if she has ideas on how to help him, if she even wants to.

but you know i would

SuNJATA

to be lit up from within

vein by vein

She watched, waited, for some kind of rebuttal, for some seething notion, for some fire to be spewed and unfurled, and not just from her own infernal accord. The rapacity curled through her veins and pulsed along her frame, biding her time, bare minimum of patience resting in the gilded turn of her eyes. You’re right wasn’t what she wanted, or needed, to hear. She knew that already. It was him who needed it sunk into his flesh and bone, into his ridiculous, stupefied mind. He was hellbent on self-destruction, and unfortunately, would take others down in his wake, in his burning at both ends, in his consuming, devouring nature. Her chin lifted again, the stare never fading, never glimpsing away, truth and veracity pouring from her lungs, from her throat. “We all make mistakes. But you just seem to be making the same ones.” Running away or to others, endless shapes and beacons, bottomless drums signifying nothing. What did he have to show from all his tireless affairs and stupid actions? Death? Broken bars? Ruptured bonds? “Do something different.” Her utterance was emboldened and she didn’t care; half-hoping he’d commit another action besides agreement in her words. Perhaps he’d said them to himself over and over again, and it hadn’t stuck. Hadn’t clicked.

She felt like setting him ablaze on the fringes, on the edges, of his own kindled provocations and denseness. Arms still folded across her chest, the wake of Hels curling above their heads, she regarded and stared, shaking her head slightly, locks wild and free. What would it take for him to be free? Unburdened? Unshackled? Untethered by every ignorant line he’d tied, knotted, and gnarled for himself? “What are you even trying to chase?”

to be the sun

MELITA

i try to keep it in line, maybe i'm just not the one

He’s surprised when a quiet huff of laughter leaves him at her observations, a shake of his head and a roll of tattooed shoulders. “At least I’m consistent.” He offers unhelpfully, before the amusement dies on his tongue and his smile fades ever so slightly while he shifts within the sands a bit uncomfortably. A hand raises to run through his hair as he focuses on her.

He supposes he could do that. Do the opposite of what he gut tells him… Though he’s not sure whether the result of that would be better or worse than what it is right now.

The question of what he’s trying to chase has him squinting his gaze to her a small amount as he considers her, before the steel flits to the surroundings, to the Hels above. “I don’t think I’m really chasing anything anymore.” Had he ever had anything to chase once he’d left the rebellion? He doesn’t think so. So he sighs quietly and considers her again. “Maybe just… Do what I can for Safrin, move to Torchline, make a bar in Halo…” He trails off with a slight wave of his hand as he folds them across his chest.

“What are you chasing?” He rumbles to her with a tilt of his head.

but you know i would

SuNJATA

to be lit up from within

vein by vein

At his laughter, at his indifferent attitude, she had the inclination to punch him in the throat. It would take little effort on her part; swift and keen, a balled fist clenched in her rage, reaching out on her tempestuous, mercurial eaves and listening to him choke on air for a moment. Would that ensure he listened? Would it mean he took her seriously? Would it matter in the slightest?

But then he admitted to not chasing anything; that all of these ridiculous motions seemed to be just that – ether and air, nothing of substance, of tangible wares. She smoldered and fumed along the wake, lips nearly curling into a snarl. “That has to be more than whatever the hell you’re doing now.” Maybe she could toss her staff into his teeth, remove the counterparts of charm and charisma, see where he belonged and arrived when lacking those fundamental figments. The youth shook her head, breathing in a strong inhale of air, pondering if it was too calm herself down, or simply set off more ignition. “And what are you going to do in Torchline?” Irritate and inveigle? Fall into more of his own snares? His trips for Safrin hadn’t been wildly successful either – the news flickering and faltering about her ears. She hadn’t known Adam well, save for helping him with a bow, and Peter not at all. Still, it was death on the fringes and boundaries of his attempts, and surely there was something marring his flesh, his thoughts, on those spirals.

Melita narrowed her eyes as he threw the question back to her; but she’d always had an answer for that. “Power. Strength.” Anything and everything she could get her hands on. “So when something threatens those I cherish again, it will think twice of touching them.” Because she’d be able to defend, be able to destroy, be able to unravel. Be able to withstand, protect, and upheld, unlike the days of the Rift. So she could drive something to annihilation and ruin, instead of the other way around.

to be the sun

MELITA

i try to keep it in line, maybe i'm just not the one

Oh she’s having none of it, and he can tell his attempts at jesting and poking fun at his shitshow of a life isn’t working. So fine, if she wants fire, he’ll give her his flood – gaze focusing and narrowing a small amount more on her as she offers the retort of what he plans to do in Torchline. And well, since she’s his niece, perhaps it’s time she learns a thing or two more about him.

“I’m moving my guild here. I’ve got the boxing ring. I’ve got whatever else Safrin needs me to do.” He says somewhat flatly, head tilting up to regard her a bit more, all the amusement and ire gone from his gaze. “And likely trying to get a hand in the smuggling business that’s going on here once I’m done in Halo.” There she has it, the true motives of things he plans on doing all jokes aside.

And when she tells him that she’s chasing power and strength, there’s a quiet huff that leaves him, a nostalgic smile that crosses his face as he looks at the water that crashes along the beach before his gaze flickers back to hers. “Become the bigger monster, Melita.” He hums to her, taking a step toward her and letting his steel gaze follow down to her. “But you can’t save all of them.” A bit of brutal honesty to that, a knowing glance that seems to say that he’s tried and tried before and failed. Again. And again.

but you know i would

SuNJATA

to be lit up from within

vein by vein

Guilds moving and maneuvering, boxing rings established, Safrin ties and lines; the girl narrowed her eyes and filtered it through her mind. Better than remaining a stagnant doofus, assembling his actions on others instead of marching forward, onward, towards something more. The smuggling business caused her to lift her brow, but the sentiments were hardened pieces of fire; granules of cinders and embers yearning to burn something to the ground. Did she care any longer, if everything was seedy, havoc-wreaking, and bedlam ensued? Or was this just a glimpse of the future, a derisive step towards emblems and banners of realms she’d often existed and thrived within? Mayhem, descent, terror, and tyranny – following fault lines and fissures of their own. Perhaps it was her turn to offer musings, potentials. “I’ve been offered a job on a ship.” To see the world, to glory and adventure. “To man the cannons.” The first notch of a grin formed, wicked and malicious, savage and nefarious.

None of that changed or altered when he proffered words she’d spoken ages before - become the bigger monster - her chin lifting even higher, as if to overthrow any and all chaos, worlds that stood in her way. “I have never been able to,” and that was the truth – her mother, her sister, her makeshift family dwindling amongst the Rift; but gods, she wasn’t going to cease and desist any longer. “But I’m still going to try.”

to be the sun

MELITA

i try to keep it in line, maybe i'm just not the one

A job on the ship? His brow raises and he moves to stand a bit closer to her, head tilting somewhat to the side as he focuses on what it all means. Manning a cannon, adventures, going off on her own. There’s a hint of pride that blossoms in his chest at that, the fact that she’s at least got it figured out enough to go and take on challenging things and hopefully come out right. At the same time, however, there’s worry and concern.

But Melita is strong, and he imagines she’ll be just fine. And if anyone were to lay their hands on her he’s sure they’d be missing them in the end. “Did you take it?” He asks quietly, a smaller ghost of a smile crossing his face, something like a smirk. “Feel free to shoot one at me when you’re in town.” He rumbles, giving her a bit of a wink before settling in a bit more again.

She tells him she’s never been able to save those she cares about, and honestly? Neither had he in the end. He might have saved Saartjie, but at the end of the day he wasn’t there. So much for protecting. He puffs out a quiet sigh, shoving his hands into his pockets as he regards her again. “Good. Have you kept up with your training?” He asks with a tilt of his head, focusing on the topic of her because that’s far easier.

but you know i would

SuNJATA