Strange Days

- NATE -

but who am I to say?
let's all just run away

The aftermath of disaster is strange now. Not that Nate had ever really gone through a disaster quite like a volcano before, but there's still a disconnect between body and mind. He's drained, emotionally and mentally, a buzzing between his ears as he follows Sunjata along the coast. There's no struggle to move though, no ache in his body, unlike the haggard steps of the attuned. If anything, Nate is thrumming, if he didn't know better, if he was in a state to think he's say it's adrenaline, but he isn't, so it really doesn't matter.

It's a relief to be inside somewhere, away from sun and ash and the now oppressive view of Apopo, but Nate finds he really doesn't know what to do with himself now. So he goes through the motions, works on autopilot. Firm hands push Sunjata into a seat, then start to look him over, checking him for bruises, cuts, anything he could take of easily. There's bruises, some wheezing, which does spark some worry if only because of previous circumstances, but other than that, there is nothing physical.

Which only leaves the harder part. Nate kneels, tired of standing over the other man suddenly, and looks up at him, staring into stormy eyes for a long moment before speaking. "Are... you okay?" It's asking too much and not enough all at once, but whatever comes from it Nate will take.

grab your saints and pray
and we'll burn this world today

SUNJATA

the flood

i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"

In the end he’s not sure whether or not what else can go wrong. The house, itself, is covered in inches of ash, mixing and melding together with the wind and left behind droplets of water from a storm that had recently passed. And with it, a sludge of sorts that feels like his mind as he leads and guides Nate toward the home that he’d found with Maea – another ghost of his life. Perhaps that’s why he’d tried so hard to save the people of Haulani, to forgo the buildings with the ability to rebuild it once the dust and ash had cleared.

Buildings could be replaced. People couldn’t.

It was a lesson hard learned for Sunjata over many years. Yet on the decade anniversary of his Trial and his seventeenth birthday, this year was turning out to be quite exactly how he expected it. But he gets Nate into the house, sheds the bandana that had covered his face, daggers dropping to the table as Nate moves him into a chair where his body seems to simply give out due to exhaustion and some of the tightness in his chest from breathing in the ashen air.

He hardly notices when Nate checks him out, stifling a cough before the Ascended kneels before him. And with it, his stormy gaze finds Nate’s electric blues, the pause of the words reaching him in such a way that he’s not sure how to respond. The obvious answer is no, but something about it reverts him back to the version he was before. Don’t show weakness, don’t cry, don’t give in.

Strength wins in this instance, and he moves to rub a slightly ashen hand against his stubbled cheek as he shakes his head and leans back a small amount to look at the ceiling. “Yes and no.” At least he’s honest this time, though he doesn’t elaborate yet. Too much shit happening, too exhausted and burned mentally and physically to make the words work right on his tongue.

'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed

- NATE -

but who am I to say?
let's all just run away

It’s too much work to put the effort into seeming human, to keep up the facade of breath and blinking when he doesn’t have to, when there’s more to focus on. When Nate needs to watch Sunjata’s face closely, so he can try to guess at the answer he’ll receive before it comes. Honestly, he feels he knows enough about the other man to have an idea of what kind of answer he’ll get anyway.

That’s why it’s surprising when yes and no comes. Nate blinks then, nodding, and carefully weighing his next words. ”Is there anything immediate not okay? Anything broken or hurting that I missed?” Nate gestured over Sunjatas body, referring to anything that can fixed quickly, without too much mental anguish. Its the easiest thing to focus on.

grab your saints and pray
and we'll burn this world today

SUNJATA

the flood

i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"

He doesn’t mind whether or not Nate tries to appear more humanlike in his nature – Sunjata’s too far past his exhaustion to care whether or not the other man blinks or moves to pretend to breathe. Instead, the hand that reaches up to brush against his own cheek soon moves after to run through ashy hair, settling back in the chair and inhaling with a quiet wheeze that feels tight when he goes to exhale.

Nate’s words are careful, and his steel gaze flickers over the man as he gestures, a small shake of his head before he lowers the hand in his hair to reach for Nate’s own cheek – still flickers of ash in his dark raven hair. “I’m okay, Nate.” He rumbles, attempting to give a small smile to try and prevent the idea that he’s sick enough with a case of something Nate can’t fix. He knows the Ascended well enough now to know what he’s searching for.

Sunjata doesn’t have that.

So instead, he tilts his head a small amount, gaze flickering over the Ascended with some pang of pain flickering in his heart, in his mind – mental wounds that stack on top of one another. “I’m just tired of it, you know? Everything imploding all the fucking time.” A heavy sigh to that, hand dropping away from the Ascended as his anxiety shows through in the form of navy feathers peppering and sprouting from tattooed shoulders.

'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed

- NATE -

but who am I to say?
let's all just run away

The wheeze catches Nate's attention in it's entirety, his body straightening as he leans up. Unintentionally leans into the hand that comes to rest on his cheek. There's no reason to quite believe the rumble, especially with the smile, but it does put him back into his own head. Cuts off some of the more unfounded worries. He nods, and reaches up to put his hand over Sunjata's, to squeeze it and try to offer back some of the comfort being offered out.

Nate's eyes haven't left Sunjata's face, but they're soft when the storm finally flickers back over him. "I know. I... can't imagine being in your position." Nate lets the hand drop away from his face without a fight, then pulls himself to his feet. The sigh that comes from him is much softer, comes with the weight of Nate's hands spreading over shoulders, over sprouting feathers. "None of it is your fault. And... I think today counts as something good, right? We did it. We saved people." That had to be worth something, though a drop of water in a bucket of shit really amounted to nothing.

Hands smoothed over shoulders for a moment longer, then Nate turned, a hand absentmindedly going to brush some of the ash out of the other mans hair as he looks around. There's something specific he has in mine, and it doesn't even take a second to find it, to step away and retrieve a bottle of something dark and amber and burning, and a glass. It's not substance abuse if its being offered by a doctor, and Nate knows it will take some of the edge off. Help the words come out of the tangle of everything. "Here." He offers the almost full glass, and sits beside Sunjata, the bottle tucked down by his feet.

grab your saints and pray
and we'll burn this world today

SUNJATA

the flood

i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"

The gentle squeeze from Nate is welcome, somewhat thankful, though he’s too tired to give into it and try to take more out of him. So his hand drops as Nate speaks next, steel gaze flickering over toward the room they surround themselves in – somewhat childproof with daggers and knives tall and high out of reach, arrows and his bow slung up high as well just in case, and there’s a further pooling of sorrow in his gut at it when Nate speaks next – gaze flickering back to the electric blues when hands smooth over navy feathers.

“We did.” He agrees quietly, knowing that they had. But at what cost, really, when it didn’t feel like it mattered anyway?

A muscle feathers in his jaw as Nate departs, watching the back of him before Sunjata leans forward a small amount to brace his elbows along his legs and rub at his eyes with the palms of his hands. He looks up to spot the glass and the alcohol, a brow raised silently at the fact that he was offering it – knowing his problems and where this leads to – but taking it nonetheless. A deep sip is given of it, swallowing down against the burn sharply.

“I just.” He begins, trailing off with a slight roll of his eyes, hands clutching at the glass now hovering between his legs. “Its one thing after another.” Lusea’s death round two. Adam and Peter and the dragon. Maea and the ghost whales. The Volcano erupting. There’s a weak smile and a huff of feigned amusement that leaves him. “When does it end? When do those that I surround myself with finally stay? When does it stop feeling like it's all my fault?” A shake of his head as he looks down to the glass in his hands. "I... Don't think I can handle much more."

'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed

- NATE -

but who am I to say?
let's all just run away

Nate is giving out comforting words that mean nothing again, that make no difference, but he doesn't know what else to do. He sits, close enough that their thighs are touching, and he watches Sunjata drink from the glass, and he wonders if maybe he made a mistake, if he's going about this all wrong. But it seems to work, seems to loosen words from lips, words that Nate focuses on with all the intensity he can muster. "One thing after another is.... just life, isn't it?"

As soon as the words leave him Nate winces, and lifts a hand to again squeeze a feathered shoulder, trying to apologize. "That's not... I don't know. It's not fair. None of it is fair, especially not to you. You don't deserve all of this, all this shit, and I... I'm sorry." Nate only knows a few of the things weighing on the attuned, hasn't heard too much of the dragon, of Lusea, but what he has heard is still too much. Would break a lesser man. Was breaking Sunjata. He hums, for once not mirroring the smile, the weak laugh, but instead squeezing the shoulder a little harder, like he could pull the pieces back together, one handed.

"I can... fuck, I will promise you that I'm not going anywhere. Not any time soon." Nate swallows, half his mouth pulled into something that's trying very hard to seem positive. This would be a lot easier if he could also drink, could also grease those wheels just a little bit, but instead he has to force genuine emotion out past the block in his throat dry, has to have it scrape and stumble. "I'm not... trying to be a replacement, or... fuck, a reason, or anything, I just... I need you. I want to help." He's still not saying quite what he wants to, isn't sure if it even makes sense, but hopefully it means something. "It's not your fault. None of it is."

grab your saints and pray
and we'll burn this world today

SUNJATA

the flood

i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"

Yeah, the first words that slip from the Ascended certainly don’t help. But Sunjata says nothing to it, knowing that Nate wasn’t exactly one to sugar coat things — and he liked that about him. But the man squeezes his shoulder again, continuing to speak and attempting to back up the conversation in such a way that it seems a bit less harsh. Until of course Nate states he doesn’t deserve it.

“Don’t I, though? After everything…” He trails off, fingers spreading wide to try and gesture, but the glass is in his hand when he goes to do it — spending a moment to lift the glass to his lips to take another deep sip, to take the edge off. His shoulder is squeezed harder then and Nate continues to spill more truths, muscles clenching in his jaw as he holds it down tight, lips forming a fine line to keep in everything he’s been taught. To be strong, even if he doesn’t have to. “They all say that.” He manages before shaking his head.

“And then I do something stupid or they do something stupid and it’s over. They’re gone. They die. And the process repeats itself.” Some flicker of a shadow crosses over his face, his eyes. “I don’t want… I don’t want that to happen to you too.” He manages before reaching up to pinch at the bridge of his nose, to rub at his temples, clutching the glass in his other hand. “I pushed her away, you know. Got antsy, and now she’s dead Nate. And I can’t even find out what she wanted to say to me from Delphia until I get over Lusea. And it’s fucked up — it’s so fucked up and not fair. But nothing is anymore. Not for me.” His hand drops and his gaze lifts to Nate with that shattering storm cloud gaze of his.

“So maybe you should go. Before I end up dragging you down with me too.”

'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed

- NATE -

but who am I to say?
let's all just run away

"Why would you? Fuck, after everything the only thing you deserve is a vacation. Some fucking... good news and a nap." Nate scoffs, wanting to shake the other man, to get his own frustration out and keep it from building. He refrains, barely, not wanting to spill the drink, not wanting to be too rough. His words are already doing that job for him. Instead he just watches Sunjata drink, watches the muscles in his jaw tighten just so, in a way Nate can feel in his own face, it's so familiar. He sighs hard, and licks his lips, trying to wrap some tact around his words.

Trying. "Well, I'm the one who has the best chance of outliving you." Trying. Nate winces again and clenches his teeth, not loosening them this time until he's actually gone over what he's going to say in his head. "Nothing is going to happen to me. I know you make stupid choices. You know I make stupid choices. I... the only reason we're close is because of a stupid choice." It feels like he's getting back onto to track, or at least clambering onto it for the first time.

Then the topic shifts, and Nate can't bring himself to be quite as blunt, can't bring himself to say anything at all for a moment. There's a rift in his chest that wants to sink with Sunjata, wants to let himself drop into the despair that can only come from losing someone close. But on the other side of it, there is a flash of anger, drowning out everything for a breath, thrusting the despair away easily. "I'm... I'm sorry, what?" Nate can't even hear the words coming out of his mouth, can't quite control his tone. Suddenly the message on the notice board makes more sense; it had put a bad taste in his mouth initially anyway, but now he couldn't even feel the slight bit of closure the final words had brought to him. "Who the fuck is she to decide that? I... what the fuck?!" The electricity that keeps Nate moving seems to be leaking out of his eyes, the blue so bright, so angry it's almost a wonder Nate hasn't launched himself to his feet. "Fuck that. Fuck. That. I... fuck, I'll help you get through that, I... fuck."

Nate has to stop, has to suck in a deep breath. The hand on the attuned's shoulder pulls him closer, Nate leaning in, speaking slowly. "You're not fucking getting rid of me that easy asshole. I just said, I'm not going anywhere. That I need you."

grab your saints and pray
and we'll burn this world today

SUNJATA

the flood

i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"

A vacation? He wants to laugh. The idea is foreign, a time where he might not have to worry about anything. Because that’s all he fucking does anymore. Worry and worry some more, push people away and keep himself in his pit of despair until he burns and crashes and self-destructs. It’s a never-ending cycle for him. To get pushed more and more, closer toward that edge until he dares to try and take the step.

Only… He never does. He’s tried to before, multiple times. And none of them had worked.

The bluntness of Nate outliving him reaches him in such a sharp way that he inhales somewhat sharply, gaze flickering up to the Ascended while he speaks – but it’s only briefly. A shake of his head, a shrug of feathered shoulders as he lifts the glass to his lips again to try and drown it out, to bandaid the problem so he doesn’t have to look at it anymore, can pretend it doesn’t exist until it festers worse and he lashes out.

However, the anger from Nate is unexpected and somehow Sunjata feels a bit more validated for his reaction – the muscle feathering in his jaw again. “I don’t know.” He offers quietly, unsure. “She called me an incubus, as if I had any fucking choice whether the people around me died or not.” A scoff of a sound, a sharp exhale and inhale. “She had some magic or something, I don’t know. It was like she was holding my soul, jerked me around and I was incapable of stopping it.” A shiver runs down his spine as he recalls the way he’d grown jagged and shaky with the movement she’d caused within him. His fingers almost tremble around the glass, twitching slightly as he hears Nate and feels him pull him closer.

The slow words almost seem to pierce through it, that block of his mind. But he shifts somewhat uncomfortably, head tilting up as his feathers flex beneath Nate’s touch. “What do you need from me, Nate?” He asks bluntly, perhaps a bit sharply, muscles feathering in his jaw as he regards Nate. “What exactly do you get by sticking with me and putting yourself through the never ending bullshit that's my life?”

'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed

- NATE -

but who am I to say?
let's all just run away

The sharpness of Nate's words only seems to reach the other man momentarily, a realization that neither of them seem to really want to face for any longer than the moment. Then it's back to the glass, back to the spiral, back to Nate not know what to do. And that scares him, which only starts a loop, a cycle in his mind because he wants to help, wants to be able to comfort his friend, wants to be able to help shoulder some of the burden, but there's nothing he can do. Except get scared, and angry, and sad, and no one of those is going to help him, help them, help Sunjata.

It's so much easier to throw himself into a righteous anger, leave behind the loop, and it seems to be more effective than anything else he's done as well. "She has no fucking right." It's a growl, a snarl, and all Nate can do is hope it doesn't come across as anger at the other man. "It's not your fault Sunjata. It's... it's so fucked up that she... that anyone would try to... who fucking gets to decide how you grieve? Who is she to fucking hold it up? And..." Another pause, where Nate all but chews his tongue, to try and control his volume, reaching out instead to hover his hand over the attuned's jaw, his fingertips barely ghosting against ash stained skin. He wants to say he'd do something, because fuck, but all he can do is work his jaw and stare, get the other man to try to look at him. How is he supposed to soothe in the face of a violation as deep as that? It brings the sadness back suddenly.

The sadness is so much harder to bite back than the anger, so much harder to swallow, and the question doesn't help. Feels almost like an accusation. What are you trying to take from me? What else is there to take from me? "I don't need anything from you. I just... Need you. And I'm a selfish fuck." More selfish than he's willing to admit, more selfish than he can put to words, than he's willing to put to words. "You're... like a brother to me. I want to fucking deal with your stupid bullshit life with you. And I want you in mine. I..." Nate stops, nostrils flaring, as he realizes suddenly he's making this too personal, taking it too personally. He's forgotten to keep up that distance, that guard of humour.

grab your saints and pray
and we'll burn this world today

SUNJATA

the flood

i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"

Sunjata doesn’t know what to do either, except continue his self-destruction, his spirals, his breakdowns away from everyone else. Had Nate not come with, it likely would have ended much the same way – a glass in his hand full of whichever liquor it was he had in the kitchen, a pack of cigarettes and perhaps a lot of silence staring into the flame of the fireplace. He has none of this, however, not with Nate here and the conversation and words that slip from his lips.

Nate’s anger is a welcome reprieve, honestly. A validating feeling that soaks him to the bones and he has to stop himself from telling Nate where exactly the whole ritual of things were to try and forget those that had been lost and forgotten. “I try to pretend that I’m not, but if you haven’t seen it yet, I’m quite easily manipulated if you know the right buttons to press. And she pressed them, Nate.” A sharper tone to his voice to that, though it fades quickly as soon as Sunjata’s expressing his unintentional accusations, his breakdowns.

It fades, because Nate’s hand is at his jaw, hovering and lifting his gaze to meet the vibrant electric blues of Nate’s eyes – is that hurt that he sees behind it? He doesn’t know who it’s for, if it’s for Nate to see Sunjata in this way, or the fact that nothing seems to go right for him regardless of how much he tries? A puff of air leaves him through his nose at Nate’s comment of being selfish.

He’s heard the same said about him, but honestly… Sometimes he felt like he deserved to be a little selfish now and then. If nothing else, at least.

Still, there’s that sorrow and sadness and the need to crash and burn himself down and down until there’s nothing left, that hangs at the forefront of his mind as he both looks at Nate, but through him as well. A hollow sort of look that begins to sharpen and snap to Nate’s face at the comment of brother.

And that certainly makes things problematic, doesn’t it? The glass in Sunjata’s hand shakes a small amount as he exhales, gaze dropping to it, another quiet wheeze of breath leaving his throat. “You saved my life, you know.” He comments briefly, lifting his head out of Nate’s hand to push up on the chair to stand on sore legs, smelling of smoke and ash and alcohol now, clutching the glass in his hand. “I just wish I was more grateful for it.”

'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed

- NATE -

but who am I to say?
let's all just run away

Sunjata's words only bring more of the sadness bubbling up, quenching the last of Nate's anger. Because he knows how to press the other man, how he could be manipulated, and to think of it being used against him is horrible. It breaks his heart. "I'm sorry. Fuck I... I'm so sorry." It's not the time for jokes, but he really can't help himself. "I think the buttons I push are better." It's quiet, hopefully enough that it can slip away without comment, and hey, what's one more thing he regrets saying at this point?

The urge to shout at Sunjata, to shake him, to get something through returns as slowly, his gaze grows hollow, distant. This isn't how Nate wants to lose him, lost in an emotional precipice that he has no idea how to combat. He needs something to reach through, to really touch Sunjata, and he doesn't know what. Touch isn't enough, and nothing that comes out of his mouth seems to be right. Nate doesn't want to have to press through this, but he'll go to the ends of the earth for it. For Sunjata.

Brother. That's what finally does it, and it's not even quite right, but its enough for something, enough to get Sunjata to really look at him. There's a tremble in Nate's jaw that comes from how tightly he's clenching it, how hard he's trying to keep everything from spilling over, to keep his eyes dry. His brows are pulled together, and there's a silent plea on his face. Please, please, let me help. Let me try. It's not enough though. Stormy eyes drop away from him, drop to the glass, and Nate regrets again suggesting it, though it's opened up something.

"I did?" Nate isn't sure how, when he sure as fuck hasn't done anything particularly noteworthy. Didn't even really help to heal Sunjata, when his lungs were threatening to collapse, when he could have. He doesn't expect the attuned to stand though, doesn't move his hand until the other is already on his feet, Nate's eyes on his back now. "Whatever I did, it.. it wasn't for you to be grateful. I'm not doing this so you'll be grateful."

"I'm not... I'm not fucking good at this. I don't know how to help, and I want to. I want to help you, because I... I like you, and I want to keep you around, and I want you to keep me around." There's no sound as Nate rises to his feet as well, not beyond his pleading voice. "Let me... fuck, I don't know. Let me save you again. Let me help. Just... fuck, please don't... don't fucking act like you're nothing. Like you deserve this." He moves around to the attuned side, reaching to take the glass, to replace it with his hand. "Sunjata. Please."

grab your saints and pray
and we'll burn this world today

SUNJATA

the flood

i can't believe that you could just say
that "the answers unlock this gate"

Honestly, Nate’s right. The buttons he presses are better. But in this instance, there’s some sort of relief under the idea that the Ascended isn’t trying to make him do anything – not really. Nothing huge like keeping the last words of someone he loved from him. Instead, Nate is simply trying to get Sunjata to keep him. To stay. And Sunjata can understand this, somewhere deep within that rational section of his mind.

Somewhere far away from here.

Because the alcohol begins to burn in his stomach and it causes his mind to swim, and the initial thought of everything rational goes in one ear and out the other – irrationality taking control over everything else as he moves to stand – offering a nod to Nate as Sunjata shifts a small amount to step away from the Ascended. “You did.” It’s a simple response, a simple shift in the way that Sunjata speaks as though there’s no room for excuses or preventions. Had Nate not ensured that Sunjata stopped drinking and smoking during that time - where would he be? He doesn’t know, doesn’t want to find out.

But Nate’s still speaking and as much as Sunjata wants to shut him out, he can’t. Forced to listen, between not knowing what else to do. Gods, he needs a shower, to get out of these clothes, to feel numb and forget about everything for awhile. And yet… Yet he roots himself to the spot, legs feeling numb and heavy all the same as Nate’s words hit like knives deep within him. That pleading voice. How often had he used it? That day his father murdered Lusea, those cries in the dungeon cell to let her go.

He doesn’t move when Nate arrives, removing the glass and taking his hand. And it takes some time before his shadowed gaze focuses on lifting to the Ascended, jaw clenching and unclenching as he tries to figure out what to say. “I do deserve it, Nate.” It’s a weak attempt to argue back. “All I do is bring destruction upon everything around me and those I care about.” Perhaps the Flood moniker still fits after all these years.

Slowly, his gaze focuses on Nate, a quiet moment of pause while he burns and breaks from the inside out. “And I can try, so fucking hard, to change that. But at the end of the day? The end of the day I’m still a murderer. Still a life ruiner. Still someone that everyone seems to think they can change. Maybe it works for a time until you get too close and then I push you away for some bullshit reason.” Lips curl into a frown at that. “Look at Maea. She got too close and I told her I needed time. I needed time because I was fucking scared that this would happen and I’d have to lose her too. And I did.”

'cause if you knew his name, not a thing would change
you'd still be wishing you were blessed