The world could overwhelm me

CHULANE

What the fuck is going on?

The world was moving in a blur around him. His mind was overwhelmed - he was overwhelmed.

Dragons, somewhere in the numbness, there was a thought, a reminder of just how crazy this world was, how foreign, how magical.

Why would she go chasing dragons?

He didn't even know much about dragons, save for what was written in Jigano's notes, and what he knew from stories of dragons. But that's all they were meant to be, stories. Not real. Not here, able to cause damage, to inflict pain and death and -

Goddamnit, he was frustrated, he was angry, sad, mournful, and then he was numb again.

Warden Weaver, he hadn't even had the chance to call her the title she had held for such a small amount of time, but had owned it immediately, stepped into the role as if it was made for her.

He sat, at the Kraai of course, his head in his hands, his eyes aching from tears. An apple cider and whiskey drink sat, barely touched, on the table near him.

The only true wisdom is in knowing
you know nothing

it's 2am and i took 17 shots of vodka trying to forget your name

but the only name i forgot was mine. and sober —

She’s exhausted. The whole ordeal with Korbin and trying to keep him together when in reality she’d probably dealt far more damage than she had meant to in order to get him to stay. And that yawning void the raven had spurred in her aches raw and painful as she slips from her room, searching for the bar and something that can drown it out. She hasn’t even had time to process Weaver yet, too focused on dealing with Korbin and trying to keep him out of harm (though it won’t work, not in the future, no). Instead, all she has is a mission on her mind to drink and hopefully forget.

Her clothes are a bit askew, part of the furs missing from where she’d left them with Korbin to try and give him some sort of comfort, letting her eyes wander to the drinks behind the bar and how many of them had been Weaver’s creation, and the ache grows further. But her eyes continue to wander, continue to slip to the patrons, until finally she lands on him.

There’s no words for what she wants to say, for how she feels, for the exhaustion that lingers in her with one crisis after another. And so she heads straight for him, unsure if he sees her or not, but managing to slip up behind him regardless, an arm reaching out to tether herself to him, to force her way into his space, arms wrapping around him from behind as she rests her cheek on his shoulder and breathes him in. Chuy... She trails off, with nothing else to add or say, simply at a loss.

— or drunk, you're the only thing on my mind

KIADA

CHULANE

People came and went all around him, keeping busy, or grabbing a drink, or consoling one another. And still he sat, silent, disengaged, apart.

He didn't see her. He didn't see anyone. He would've sat with his head in his hands for an age had she not disturbed him, her form melding against his, her hands lighting the fire of life in his form once more, as he automatically unfolded his hunched posture to lean into her, even as she leaned upon his shoulder.

A deep, shaky breath rattled through his chest as her thought touched his mind, his name, calling to him amidst the abyssal numbness that otherwise consumed him. He clung to it, even as his hands rose to cling to hers that were wrapped around his form.

They were anchors for each other, they would weather this storm together.

He turns his head to lean his forehead against her, to breathe in the scent of her. "Kia." He hums back to her, his usually light and playful tone nowhere to be seen, replaced by a tone similar to the one her mental voice had sounded: Tired, spent, sorrowful.

A shot of relief went through him as he thanked whatever gods had a hand in this world that it wasn't she who had been taken by a fucking dragon. It was swiftly followed up by a wave of guilt, and then it settled back down to that all familiar cold, empty numbness.

"Sit with me..?" he asked, he begged, his voice soft and cracking, as he tugged gently on one of her arms that encircled him to draw her into his lap, where he might hold her, embrace her, and softly shed a tear into her dark, brunette hair.

The only true wisdom is in knowing
you know nothing

it's 2am and i took 17 shots of vodka trying to forget your name

but the only name i forgot was mine. and sober —

His arms rise, hands running along her own that encase him – her head resting on his shoulder and pressing her face into his when he turns his head toward her. The nickname he’s given her hangs in the air between them, equally as tired, emotionally drained, feeling just as deadened as she does. And she, too, feels numb. She feels the hollowness and void growing further within her, lifting her head a small amount as he questions whether or not she’ll sit with him.

As if it were a choice at all.

She moves easily with his tugging, with the soft and cracking sound to his voice. She slips around toward his face so her back is to the bar, easily swinging one leg over him and settling into his lap, pressing herself against him and wrapping her arms tight around him again. Always. She replies back, hands lifting to the back of his head to pull him into her shoulder, into the crook of her own neck, taking solace in the comfort that they at least had each other.

— or drunk, you're the only thing on my mind

KIADA

CHULANE

Long arms embrace her, holding her to him, his need for her clear as he engulfs her in the breadth of his generous reach. He is like a child, clinging to the most familiar thing near him after feeling like so much has been taken away. A shaky breath fills his lungs as he presses his face into her neck, the scent of her hair filling him, relaxing him slightly. Enough so that another wave of sorrow can rock him, can crash through and disrupt this moment of peace.

Her reply has his breath hitching, a single sob racking his frame as he pressed his eyes tightly shut against her - he has barely looked at her, barely able to, so caught up in his own swell of emotions. Why did it affect him so? Weaver had not meant that much to him, surely, and yet his body cried at the unfairness of it, at the injustice of it all.

Perhaps her death was just the tipping point - maybe he had been this close to breaking all along.

Tears burned at the edges of his eyes, hot and wet, but no more sobs came - he simply stubbornly refused to fall deeper, how could he, when he had Kia holding him up. Her strength, her solidarity - he leaned his head against her shoulder, and he held her too in his strong embrace, inviting her to fall against him just as much as he fell against her.

He didn't know how much time passed, how long he just sat with her, but when he did eventually sit back up, his breathing was more controlled, more steady. He pressed a kiss to her cheek as he raised himself up again, murmuring a low and grateful "Thank you." With a small frown of concern, he lifted a hand to rest his palm against her cheek, as he finally looked at her.

"When's the last time you ate or drank? Or slept?" Genuine concern coloured his tones, as he guessed that her response would be similar to his own tale - too long.

The only true wisdom is in knowing
you know nothing

it's 2am and i took 17 shots of vodka trying to forget your name

but the only name i forgot was mine. and sober —

They mold together like two pieces of a puzzle, fitting together as she buries her face into his shoulder and he buries his into her neck and hair. It’s a gentle embrace, one of sorrow and solace, one of melancholy tones as she wraps her arms around his neck and keeps him close, lets him cry as much as he needs to. She doesn’t join him, if only for the fact that she doesn’t have more tears to shed. She’s exhausted, can’t remember the last time she’d eaten or drank anything, can’t remember what she’d even been doing before she heard the news and ran through the snow to find Korbin.

Then accidentally broke a couple of his ribs in the process of ensuring he didn’t follow the dragon.

She lets him take as long as he needs, before her icy gaze is landing on him, full of exhaustion and slightly puffy. She leans into the kiss a small amount, but when he goes to cup her cheek that’s when she finally nestles her head in close to his. “You’re welcome.” It’s a small breath of an answer.

But when he focuses on her and she opens her eyes about halfway to meet his, his question and concern are met with a small smile, arms tightening around his neck. “Not sure.” She replies honestly to all of them. “Korbin’s in my room right now. He’s… hurt. Badly. Won’t let the healers help.” She sighs lightly, frowning before she closes her eyes again. “Auni is with him and I came down to get something to drink and saw you.”

— or drunk, you're the only thing on my mind

KIADA

CHULANE

Her head rests in his hand, her face close, his thumbs running gently along her cheekbone, something lightly glancing over the edge of her full lips. Gods but she was so beautiful to him, even if she looked like the weight of the world was finally getting to her, even if she looked on the brink of collapse, of exhaustion. She was beautiful, but she also stirred more and more concern within him as he kept looking at her, silently admonishing himself to have missed it before, to have wallowed in his pitiful grief - but then, had he not been, he probably would not have crossed her path, not have been available to pick her up now.

He hears her short tale of Korbin's plight, possibly a moment of surprise, of confusion, dashing through him (- why was Korbin in her room? -) but he had pieced together a while ago that the two were friends, acquainted better than he and Korbin were, at the least. His own presence only seemed to stir disdain in the boy, an apathy so deep it hurt Chulane to try and engage with him beyond curt greetings and civil comments. So he had done his best to take a step back, to abandon his efforts in trying to find a friend in the raven-boy, the one who had led him off the tundra and into the Palace. The one who had rescued him, for surely if he had not found him, Chulane would not be here.

He sighed, processing his thoughts, nodding in understanding to her words, leaning towards her to rest his forehead against hers, lightly kissing the tip of her nose. "And then you came to comfort me too," he said softly, grateful again. "Have my drink, at least," he offered, reaching for the cup and pressing it to her hands, shifting so that she would have room to comfortably drink the cider and whiskey mix. "It's a Weaver special mix," he added, quiet, sad. "When you're ready, I'll whip something up in the kitchen for us." She would need to get off his lap first - a prospect he didn't want to rush, if he was honest.

The only true wisdom is in knowing
you know nothing

it's 2am and i took 17 shots of vodka trying to forget your name

but the only name i forgot was mine. and sober —

She isn’t as heartless as she’s made herself believe she is. Too kind to let Korbin struggle alone, even if she didn’t know the man very well. Too kind to let him go off and kill himself with a cold and cruel slow death, for someone who’d only shared one night of passion with the man. But she doesn’t mention that, not in the slightest as she simply is too exhausted and focused on their conversation of the here and now. Here, Kiada sits in Chulane’s lap, arms wrapped tightly around the man’s neck as he cradles her cheek, as his thumb runs along her lip.

But he sighs too, and she leans into his touch a bit more, watching through an exhausted half lidded gaze as he leans forward and presses his forehead against hers, his lips brushing a kiss to her nose. “Of course I did.” She says softly, offering him a small smile before withdrawing a small amount, keeping one arm around his neck while the other reaches for the drink that he offers. And when she takes a sip of it, reflecting on Weaver, she swallows it down with all that much more appreciation.

If nothing else, at least it alleviates some of the heartache to replace it with something number.

Her sip from it might have been a bit too big of a gulp, but gods does it feel like she needs it. And when her iceberg gaze flickers back toward him at the offer of food, she runs her thumb along the side of her neck as she considers him. “I’m… Not really that hungry to be honest.” A small frown crosses her face once more. “But if you are, we could cook something up together.” Because she wants that closeness, doesn’t want to give up and remain on her own just yet.

— or drunk, you're the only thing on my mind

KIADA

CHULANE

He is so glad to have her near, to have broken down the walls of attraction, of desire, to be able to call themselves partners, aiming to live this life they shared together. He didn't deign to think where he'd be without her, how lost and broken and hopelessly alone he'd be. But he wasn't alone, neither of them were, and he gave a squeeze with the hand that was still wrapped around her, the arm hooked around her hip, his hand somewhere across her back, a way for him to send silent pulses of gratitude, in absence of his ability to wield the bond without his shift.

A small bubble of simple gladness rises in him as he watches her drink, happy to know that she wouldn't pass out from dehydration, at least. At her words he nodded again, knowing where she spoke from - grief manifested in bizarre ways across the body, none of them usually helpful. "I feel like we could sit like this for an eternity," he said wistfully, a shadow of a smile softening his lips, as a yearning to lean in and kiss her wholly on the mouth, to taste the drink she swallowed for himself, rose within him - he ignored it, knowing the moment inappropriate, the emotional and physical fatigue plaguing them both preventing proper enjoyment out of the act.

"We can cook later - together," he reassured her with a low hum, his body not hungry so much as knowing he should eat something at some stage - and she should too. Moving the hand that was cupping her cheek down to rest upon her hip instead, he leaned forward into her space once more. "Talk to me," he murmured, he asked of her, if only so that both of them might get through this first excruciating night. "Tell me about your home?" He suggested, hoping to hear her voice, to learn more again about her, to know her even better than he currently did.

The only true wisdom is in knowing
you know nothing

it's 2am and i took 17 shots of vodka trying to forget your name

but the only name i forgot was mine. and sober —

She’s not sure what she’d do to cope throughout all of this had she not stumbled across him and the rogue vegetables that had decided to take a trip down the alley of Snowcloak. It’s relieving, to settle like this, to have a place and space where she could and would be welcomed at any point. She’d never quite gotten there with Ru’in, not with everything that had happened – gods, they were close enough to be engaged and yet… and yet. Nothing like this, the tender touches, the careful embrace, the sharing of stories and lives so bright in comparison to her own that gave her some sort of hope for a future.

She focuses on him a bit more when he speaks, drawing her out of those thoughts. “I wouldn’t mind that.” Kiada assures him with a lighter smile, already feeling a bit of the tension leaving her body simply because of him. “Though maybe a bit more privacy.” Because while it was nice to be here, despite everything that went on, the Kraai was still loud, still full of people, some that were shouting their grief and others huddled quiet and solemn in the corners.

All she wants to do is focus entirely on him if she can, to give him her all.

So when he mentions that they can cook together later, there’s a soft smile that tilts up the corner of her lips as she takes another sip of the drink, letting her other hand stroke along his neck and shoulder as she leans back a small amount, shifting herself on his lap easily as she goes to hand him his drink, a dark brow raising in case he wants a sip. But then he’s asking her to talk to him, about her home. “My home here? Or… Where I was born? Or… The next place I went?” She asks easily, a softer smile crossing her face with those options laid out.

— or drunk, you're the only thing on my mind

KIADA

CHULANE

"Mm," he mumbles his agreement to her statement about privacy, wondering if she had read his mind, unlocked those deeper dreams and hopes he had held for himself before he had been plucked from one icy plain to another. He had always wanted to build a life for himself, to settle and do good for whatever community he lived in. And in his mind's eye, what he had always imagined was that he would share that home with a faceless someone, an unknown entity, an ingredient he had yet to find - until now? But perhaps his grief addled, tired mind was overthinking, busily roving down all sorts of different trails, after having been caught up in a spin of dragons and loss, death and destruction.

He would give her the world if she asked it of him.

"Heh," a laugh that is nothing more than a huff of air escapes his lips as he shakes his head at her questions, asking him to clarify, for he had not been specific enough. "I hope to hear about all of them, eventually," he matches her soft smile, feeling the tension within him slowly leak away, as her mere presence has its effect on him. He accepted a sip from his cup, some vague amusement rising in the back of his mind as he notices that a rather large portion of it appears to have be drunk already. But he is only gladder still for it, as he handed it back to her, the whiskey warming him as it hit his stomach.

"Which do you think of as home?" he asked softly, hoping his question didn't cause her unnecessary pain as she might reflect on her past, on a place that was either no longer accessible to her, or one with a hard, hurtful history.

The only true wisdom is in knowing
you know nothing

it's 2am and i took 17 shots of vodka trying to forget your name

but the only name i forgot was mine. and sober —

The future for Kiada had always been tentative. A sort of… Unknown, after being tossed from world to world. Half of her expects to be tossed from this one as well – to lose Chulane and everything else she’d ever known. But instead of being too afraid to dive in and fall in love again only to be broken when she imagines it’ll happen again, she dives straight in. Because it’s better than being a shell, better than being nothing in comparison to how closed off she had once been. She only hopes it’s not cruel, not selfish of her to have those thoughts.

They’re not aired, however, as his breathy huff of a laugh leaves Chuy and she offers the glass to him, sitting back a bit to listen as he offers the comment of learning about all of them. Some were far better than others, and it’s not until he asks her what she considers home that she sort of stills. The fingers stroking along his neck pause in their gentle idle caresses as she focuses on what to answer with.

“The Aurora Basin.” She says softly, that soft smile remaining despite it’s nostalgic tone. Her iceberg gaze finds his as he hands the glass back and she takes a lighter sip from it, settling with the warmth in her stomach. “It was a lot like Halo… Not quite as cold. But we lived in the mountains and had a lake that never froze, and these hot springs that were… Wonderful.” She smiles a bit more tenderly with that, thankful for the distraction. “And at night… The aurora would appear.” Her head tilts up, almost as if she can look through the ceiling and see them dancing above. “It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

Her head tilts down then, slowly, as she lets the alcohol warm her from within, letting it take a bit more of a hold over her to wash away the sorrowful feelings. "Did they have those in Oz?"

— or drunk, you're the only thing on my mind

KIADA

CHULANE

Perhaps he was foolish, or naïve still, having only been thrown through one world, one life-altering event, and so swiftly managed to find his feet, at least as much as he could. Perhaps his entire experience had been on 'easy-mode', or maybe he was just more resilient than he felt, more naturally inclined to always go back to loving someone, to letting them in despite the threat and possibility of losing them. Perhaps he was just still too innocent, and this harsh realm would eventually make him more guarded, would harden the soft edges of his open kindness, his easy smiles and affectionate kisses.

He didn't think anything in this world or another could ever change the way he viewed her, the way he yearned for her.

Her strokes elicit a low, satisfied moan in him, barely audible - almost a purr, as his head tips and his neck stretches into them, like a cat arching its back into a pleasant pressure along its back. But then the touches pause, and he, much like a cat would, leans into the hand that rests against him, turning his head towards it to press a kiss against her inner wrist.

Then she is talking, describing what she thinks of as home, and though it is different to any kind of home he's ever heard of (except perhaps Halo itself), he can tell the wistful nostalgia its memory brings up is a welcome distraction from the current state of affairs. As she glances to the ceiling, his gaze follows for a mere moment, before settling back on her, beholding the quiet look of bliss as she relives the memory of the aurora lights transform her before his very eyes.

Then she says Oz and brings him back from the bliss he had gotten lost in by just looking at her. A tired smile touches his lips. "My home was vast, and hot, and dry most of the year. If you travelled to the southernmost point, at the right time of year, such lights could be seen. We called them australis borealis." He paused, needing another sip of the drink they were sharing.

"I was away from home when I was brought here. Travelling, many months by sea, to a frozen desert much like Halo, to study the animal life there. The night I was taken, I had seen something in the night sky - the australis borealis, I thought. It wasn't until much later that I realised it was the wrong season for it.. That it was impossible. The lights surrounded me and…" He shrugged, as if to say now I'm here. He had comes to terms with the experience itself, though what it implicated, what it meant on a deeper level still affected him, as his eyes misted over belatedly, as he kept looking at her.

"Hot springs sound nice. Halo should get some hot springs." He said by way of blinking away the tears that threatened, of diverting the conversation back to safer topics.

The only true wisdom is in knowing
you know nothing

it's 2am and i took 17 shots of vodka trying to forget your name

but the only name i forgot was mine. and sober —

As she speaks of the Basin, she settles into the nostalgia that crosses over her. It’s a welcome feeling to the numbness of before, something else to focus on, glancing toward the ceiling briefly as she recalls the aurora before her head is lowering to grant him all of the rest of her focus. She asks of his home, taking a small sip from the drink in her hand. “Oooh.” A quiet musing to the mention of the australis borealis – it makes sense, she supposes, that there’d be similar things in other worlds.

None of them were the same from where she came from, much to her disappointment.

But she listens more, of how he’d ventured to a place much like this with the cold and frigid climate, to studying the animals – wondering absently if that’s why he attuned. And she listens when he mentions the night he was taken, she can’t recall what hers had been like, but it still intrigued her to hear about it, even as the glassiness crosses his face and she yearns to help him more.

Instead, all she can do is nestle in a bit closer, offering him a small smile of understanding, because there’s really nothing else she can do. They can’t go back. Instead, her hand runs along his cheek now, offering him a gentle smile before she settles in a bit more once again. “I think they’re in progress.” She hums to him, lifting the drink in a small mock toast. “Your home sounds nice. I’ll admit I’m not much one for excessive heat, though.” She offers, trying to lighten the mood a bit, head tilting slightly.

— or drunk, you're the only thing on my mind

KIADA