lost in time and space (OPEN)

Cold was no stranger to Tala, she’d lived on a tundra planet for her whole life. That cold was different. This one enveloped her entirely and bit at her skin harshly, her several layers of reindeer pelt clothing made some difference, but not enough to provide her any measure of comfort. Still, she’d been cold before, and she’d been uncomfortable before. She knew she’d be fine so long as she kept moving.

So she wandered onwards and onwards, resisting the urge to stop and rest for more than a couple of minutes. Perhaps she’d come through the wrong portal. She knew from the stories in her homeland that they all led to the same planet, but why had she gone and picked the one with ice and snow through that mirror like image? Familiarity, she supposed. It seemed to have been a bad choice to make. Tala was beginning to reason with the thought that she may very well die out here, before ever having a chance to establish a life the way she wanted. She longed for the way her clan would huddle together and rest with the reindeer during the harshest blizzards. All alone she wasn’t sure if she had much hope to survive. Until she saw buildings.

A renewed vigor took over her and she tightened her gloved, chilled fingers around the wooden quarterstaff she trekked with. It felt like it took eternity to reach the settlement, but she made it at last and began frantically searching for an open door to give her respite from the blizzard outside. She spotted someone entering a building that resembled every other house, but had a sign that told her it was a business, somewhere she could go.

She stepped through the door and froze as soon as it shut. The clutches of anxiety gripped her heart as she glanced around the room, fully realizing for the first time that this was an entirely different world. But she saw antlers on the wall, and something about that familiar sight, knowing that creatures like her own reindeer must exist here, caused her to relax ever so slightly. The fire was by far the most inviting element of the room, and she hurried toward it to begin to thaw out her freezing limbs, too distracted by the discomfort to acknowledge other people around her until the warmth began to permeate.

Tala

there's a world that was meant for us to see

KORBIN

But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?

He had a table all to himself, in the shadowed corner of the room where the light from the hearth did not quite reach. The tavern was crowded, as usual, as refugees from the ruined Palace and the destroyed houses throughout the town still had no other place to go. It would be a long time before this place had a slow evening, and Korbin knew his sister would have been secretly thrilled that her establishment was a success. A haven, a refuge, the place to go in Halo... though probably she would have preferred that they had a choice in the matter.

The bottle on the table before him was half empty. The bowl of stew was steaming still, but the young man had made no move to touch it. Part of him was ravenous, starved, craving the sustenance so badly that his hands shook... but that might just be the whiskey. Or the sleepless nights.

Or maybe it was the woman who entered in through the door. Her dark hair and posture was so familiar that Korbin sat up straight, face blanching as if he'd seen a ghost. Of couse it wasn't Weaver, he knew it, saw it with his own eyes as she walked towards the fire to warm stiff fingers by the flame. He knew it, and yet... yet still couldn't take his eyes off her. Had to keep looking, lest she turn away and he thought he was seeing her again.

It would be too painful.

Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around

Slowly, the feeling returned to her fingers as she warmed them near the hearth. She’d leaned her quarterstaff against the chair she sat in, and had hurried to the fire too quickly to have removed her backpack. Now that her brain seemed to have thawed out a bit, she shifted to pull the pack off and set it beside her chair.

She never truly understood how one could know they were being watched but the feeling, which she’d first attributed to being a part of the initial anxiety of entering an establishment in this world for the first time, did not subside. She lifted her chin and blinked through the mostly melted ice crystals on her lashes so that she could scan her surroundings properly.

The man was not hard to spot, he was staring so boldly. She’d been expecting someone watching her covertly, not something so obvious. She made eye contact and raised a questioning brow, then quickly searched the room to see if perhaps staring was just the custom here. She was new, after all. No, she didn’t see anyone else staring at anybody, so the act must at least not be the norm.

It was with great reluctance that she pulled herself away from the warm embrace of the hearth, but she always followed her curiosity before she followed her comfort. She lifted her pack with one hand and grabbed her quarterstaff with the other so as not to leave them unattended, and then approached the man’s table. For a moment she merely stared down upon him with a challenging look, but she was new here. Maybe she’d missed something important, or had done something grossly against the customs of this world. Her eyes quickly softened as she opened her mouth to speak. ”You stare more than the people from where I’m from do. Is that normal here?” She asked, used to being direct. She was somewhat surprised by the hoarseness of her own voice, but it happened plenty back home too, during blizzards where the cold air just got to be too harsh and burned at the back of her throat.

Tala

there's a world that was meant for us to see

KORBIN

But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?

He stared back when she turned and met his gaze, his blue eyes hard as flint. They did not veer away even as she approached, nor did his expression soften when hers did. Unapologetic and unflinching, Korbin looked the woman up and down, searching out every similarity, every difference, just so he could convince himself that this really was a different person. Not because he wouldn't recognize his own sister even if she came back in a different body with a different face, it was just...

He had to burn the hope that it would even happen out of his heart. That path led to madness.

Her question was ignored until he had satisfied that need, and when his eyes finally veered off the raven haired youth slumped back in his chair and reached for the bottle. Poured a shot into the empty glass, his hand shaking so much that he spilled half the contents onto the table.

"No," he replied, a hoarse quiet whisper that could not be blamed on the cold. Not today. "Thought you were someone else. That's all." Raising the glass to his lips he sipped the drink, felt it burn its way down his throat. Already he had dismissed the woman.

If she wasn't Weaver, she was of no consequence to him.

Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around

Annoyance began to set in as the man seemed content to ignore her and continue his staring. The stories she’d heard back home said that communication would be just fine, and she knew that when she spoke it was a language that did not feel like her own, yet she knew it. So she knew this man must be able to understand her. Were her hands not occupied by her pack and quarterstaff, she’d be indignantly crossing them over her chest. Instead, her eyes narrowed and a frown formed.

She might be inclined to sympathy, seeing the obvious signs of emotional distress this man was showing, but his words and especially his blatant dismissal were a sting to her pride. ”And who am I supposed to be?” She asked in as sharp a tone as her cold-burned throat would allow. If she would be treated rudely, she felt she deserved an explanation. Though the thought was nagging her that maybe everyone here was going to be rude, she wasn’t sure what to expect at all. It would certainly be a wound to her pride if everyone she met would be the type to stare, and then dismiss. The staring she could tolerate, the dismissal she could not.

Tala

there's a world that was meant for us to see

KORBIN

But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?

It would have been easy to ignore the question. To let the woman stew in her apparent displeasure until she tired and moved off, to someone who would more readily offer comoanionship and explanations. She was an Outlander, that much was made obvious by her question, the way she looked around, though she was far better dressed for the climate than most he had seen so far.

But something in her mannerism made Korbin look back up. A nagging, persistent feeling of gazing at something familiar. Maybe this wasn't Weaver, but they were cast from the same mold. Strong, fierce, confident. Accepting no bullshit. Merciless, no doubt. It was all in the fierce stare she leveled at him, and it made his mouth quirk, dangerously close to a smile. Riddled with fresh pain that did little to soften his features.

"Someone who died. My sister." He still couldn't bring himself to say her name out loud.

Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around

Her right eyebrow quirking upwards at the corner was the only indication that his words had surprised her, the rest of her expression remaining steely.

Death was incredibly common to her. The harsh climate of her home world claimed lives regularly, and everyone in her clan knew how to grieve for a day and then move along. But, she knew from her reading that even in other cultures on her own planet, death was something that caused people many ages of emotional turmoil. Perhaps there were a few deaths that even she still mourned, though she didn’t care to admit it. The news elicited the slightest bit of sympathy in her. ”I see.” She said, tilting her chin up slightly as she reappraised the man. Her manner was still cold and prideful, an ounce of sympathy could hardly move her to demureness.

After a moment’s pause in which she kept her gaze frigid while she decided how to proceed, she finally let her eyes drift off toward the bar so that she wasn’t staring quite so harshly. ”Apologies for your loss.” The words sounded a bit dull and unpracticed, she’d never mastered the art of compassion for those she didn’t know. Anyways, she had her own matters to worry about. ”Well, if you’re just sitting here staring, drinking, and being moody, then do you have a moment to tell me where I am?” It was clear enough that she was new, and if the portals were well known in her home then they must not be a secret in the place they lead, either. Subtlety and diplomacy were not in her wheelhouse. Why should they be? She’d spent her whole life surrounded only by family, and the way of their culture was to be direct in all - or, almost all, things.

Tala

there's a world that was meant for us to see

KORBIN

But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?

Another difference. Prideful and occasionally haughty though Weaver sometimes could be, she was a flame. Always warm. Always able to find a smidge of compassion in her for everyone, enough empathy to keep listening even as she planned out how to kick their asses later.

Weaver was never cold.

It was enough of a differenxe that Korbin did not thaw further. His heart was bleeding and the scabs made it hard, jagged. His grief was raw and visceral, not the kind you stepped over after a day of drinking. The bond with his sister had not been that shallow.

Korbin shrugged. Reached out a hand and nudged the still steaming bowl of stew so that it skidded over the table to the woman and stopped before her. It was not a kindness; Korbin had already discarded the meal. It cost him nothing to give it away.

"You are standing in the Kraai, my sister's tavern. It is located in the town of Snowcloak, within the walls of the Citadel, in the region of Halo, on the continent - and world - of Caido. And you've got some nerve, Outlander, to carry that attitude. As if you have a right to demand anything from anyone here. If you want anything you better fucking earn it."

It was a pretty little speech, and should have been accompanied by frowns and smirks, straightened backs and a lifted chin. The pompous preening of some young rooster, convinced of his own solid place in the world.

But his words rang hollow, empty, and there was no fire in his eyes. It sounded like a phrase rehearsed to boredom, an attitude pulled on like oversized costumes. Awkward, listless, numb. Korbin rolled the glass between his palms, and seemed to neither notice bor care that his attitude was just as deplorable.

Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around

She watched the bowl travel across the table and paused for a moment before she decided it was meant to be an invitation, and took a seat in the empty chair beside the table. She’d been ignoring the tugs of hunger in her stomach for hours. ”Thank you.” She quickly said as she sat.

Tala’s eyes narrowed as the man spoke, and then she let silence settle for a moment as she considered his words. It was tempting to take it as another affront, but it was clear from his deflated attitude that if they were going to get in a pissing match about who could be ruder, they’d be here all night. And she was more focused on the first part, about where she was. That sparked excitement. After a moment a grin spread widely across her face, out of place though it seemed. This was new. Snowcloak, Kraai, Citadel, it was all new. And she couldn’t say she was fond of the first person she had met, but she couldn’t deny the joy of finally letting her curiosity lead. Giving names to these new places made it feel all the more real.

”Outlander, I like that term.” She said as she took her first swallow of the stew. It was exactly what she needed. ”You don’t see me demanding anything of anyone else,” She said pointedly, but her words were a hair more pleasant now that she was eating and the excitement of her new adventure had lifted her mood. ”But if it’s not rude to stare at someone and then dismiss them out of hand, then I can hardly see why it’s rude to ask where I am.” Of course, she knew she’d been quite snippy about it, but she wasn’t about to bring that part up. She let out a slight breath of laughter as she remembered the word he’d use. ”Though I do suppose you’re right, I do have some nerve.”

Tala

there's a world that was meant for us to see

KORBIN

But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?

She did not rise to his half-hearted provocation, and Korbin quickly found that he did not have the mental fortitude for sparring with words. Just having another human sitting across the table before him was strainibg his resources, and he did not respond to any of the defenses save with a single shrug. As long as she was clear on the part where nothing came free... it was not so much a threat as a piece of advice. Rudely offered, sure, but no less true. And his would not be the only poor attitude to another mouth to feed when the Citadel was in ruin and every resource already had to be turned twice to cover the inhabitants and the Grounders. A new outsider to be wary of... not to mention that she had been able to march straight into the town without being stopped by guards or told where she was.

Morgan had a lot of work to do.

"Why would it be rude to lack interest in someone I don't know or care about? I'd be more offended by false courtesy and empty flattery." But few people seemed to appreciate his outlook on that, and Korbin had stopped trying to convince them that brutal honesty was better than comfortable lies.

The one who had actually understood that part of him was gone now too.

Regarding the woman while she are, Korbin waited for more questions. He asked nothing about her, and did not care about names. Ultimately her presence was a mere distraction, and once she had moved on to friendlier faces, he would be more than happy to forget her.

Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around

Tala smiled again, finding her spirits were much lifted by just a few bites of food in her stomach, and the proper realization that she was in a new land. ”I suppose it was more of the staring part.” She said, it was almost teasing though she still had the patent awkwardness that most of her social interactions outside of her clan had. ”Not a fan of false courtesy myself. Nor am I any good at it.” She added. ”What’s the point in not meaning what you say?” She gave a little shrug to mark her point, though under all her layers the movement only caused a little rustle of the reindeer pelts on her shoulders.

She let her eyes wander up to look at the man head on again. He seemed like an awfully depressed individual. Tala hated offering sympathy, she wasn’t good at it at all, and so it wasn’t the route she would pick. Still, her clan placed high value on reciprocity, and the man had given her a meal, and she kind of felt guilty for not being a compassionate person. Clearly the sister must be on his mind. ”Where I come from, we each carve a bead out of the shed antlers of our reindeer whenever a clan member dies, and save it in a little wooden box.” She had her own such box buried in the bottom of her pack, ”On the longest day of the year we braid the beads into our hair and spend the day storytelling of those we lost.” Her words sounded out of place again, it was clear enough that she wasn’t used to discussing anything even remotely emotional with a stranger. The longest day’s event was not solemn in any way, and was indeed quite celebratory. ”Are there traditions here, to honor those you lose?” She asked, somewhat hesitantly. It was probably pretty clear that she was well outside of her wheelhouse, but she was trying her best.

Tala

there's a world that was meant for us to see

KORBIN

But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?

If only his loss wasn't so fresh. Once upon a time, Korbin would have enjoyed comparing traditions, exchanging banter, trading insults and smiles in equal measure. Held a shallow disdain for outsiders as a shield behind which he would be soft and caring and sympathetic to shared experiences.

But he didn't remember how to smile. Had forgotten about empathy, set aside compassion and care. Maybe they still existed in him somewhere, buried beneath the pain, but today he could not reach them. Her little story was only a splinter of glass cutting into raw flesh, opening up more wounds to bleed. Or was it the same one, just grown a little larger?

Korbin turned his face away, expression stony. "We burn our dead," was the only reply he gave. Rough, raw, unhelpful. He didn't want to talk about this. Did not want her sympathy, clumsy or otherwise. It had been fine so long as they weren't talking about him, but now they were approaching dangerous territory and the young man tensed gradually, bracing for more probing questions, more shared details he couldn't care less about.

She better find someone else if this was how the conversation would continue.

Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around

It was plain to see that she’d miscalculated. She may not know what to say in most situations, but she knew how to tell what people thought about it. A part of her was annoyed, but she couldn’t hold it against him. Sadness was sadness, and technically she had approached him, after all. She could hardly expect him to be in a good mood. ”I see.” She said, letting her eyes wander around the bar to give her somewhere to look.

”Thank you, for the meal.” She said, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in the presence of the broody individual, and looking forward to finishing her stew and returning to the fire. She sped up her eating a tad in order to down her last few bites more quickly.

Tala

there's a world that was meant for us to see

KORBIN

But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?

He would have let her go. Should have. Didn't exactly crave company, or chatter. But through he was moody and absorbed in his own misery, Korbin was not quite numb enough to be cruel either. Too many voices buzzed in his head, speaking of care and concern and  to prove that you're not the bully you say you're not.

When she began to eat faster, clearly hurrying to be away from him, Korbin dragged a hand over the face and sighed quietly. Guilt flooped over somewhere inside, reminding him of emotions other than the pain.

"Sorry," he muttered quietly, the words forming reluctantly. "It wasn't long, since... but not your fault." Dragging long fingers through the unruly hair, Korbin took a deep breath, tried to muster some semblance of civility. It did not come easy, and he didn't smile, but after emptying the glass and the burn of alcohol kicked in, he managed to straighten up.

"You're gonna want to find someplace to crash, if you can. LongNight is coming... If you think it's cold now, you're in for it." Already the temperature was brutal, and a week of perpetual night would not improve anything.

Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around