onassis

she tells me, mama you look lovely when you take a stand

Tonight it was The Hanged Man, somewhere Aisha had heard about the last few days but was yet to explore. Something about the breeze, or the overwhelming sweetness of the Halenani had drawn her away from her temporary shelter, and out to the ocean bar. And what a good decision it was, the salt on her skin and a fruity drink in hand, anything stressful or worrisome was far out of heart and mind.

Her eyes wandered over the crowd of other's gathered here, and she wondered how many of them were residents and how many were refugees. And of those refugees, how many were here to relax and drink away their frets as well.

---

Osozo

AISHA

There were generally few reasons for Osozo to enter a bar, few reasons to stick around, but after the message from Wessex, the dark news delivered from so far away, they want to be close to people, to crowds. It's not quite sorrow, but it is surprise. The Family might not have gotten along, but they had seemed strong, but now they've lost two members, and it leaves the Demi-god in a bit of a lurch.

They have a drink in hand, if only because they feel like they should, so they have an excuse to stay leaning against the bar, eyes moving over the crowd of people. Their hair is a dark enough blue that it seems black, and it keeps too many eyes off them, keeps them relatively anonymous, though Osozo's eyes still flash purple when they pass over a familiar face in the crowd, locking onto it like the force of their gaze was enough to draw attention, to beg for some kind of contact.

OSOZO

The touch and gaze of those to whom we are less than nothing

she tells me, mama you look lovely when you take a stand

One face she recognized, one face was surely a refugee, and the hunger for attention their eyes held was a familiar sentiment. She locked onto them with her own honey hazel gaze, and for a moment she analyzed, watched, and simply gave her attention to them. That wasn't enough, she was curious about the other, Osozo if she remembered correctly, and they were just the distraction she sought.

Pushing through the crowd with the confidence of the cat, she placed herself across from them, and gave a soft smile. "You're from the grounds," she stated more than asked, honing in on what they had in common.

AISHA

Their gaze worked, magnetizing the familiar woman towards Osozo, a fact that came as no surprise to the Demi-god. For a moment, they stared at each other, honeyed eyes meeting multicoloured ones, though they didn't move right away, didn't shift. They let the other approach them. Osozo fixes a smile to their face, straightens up, and just for show, raises their glass to their lips, so they can have the moment to think about their first words. Though, the other makes it easy on them.

"I am." They conceded easily, no grace missing from their voice, though it was still a far cry from the boisterous act they'd put on in the Grounds. There's a moment's pause, before they continue, offering another fact, wondering how exactly the conversation was going to go. "You're... Aisha, aren't you? You were at the murder... party?" Hands come up to add some fanfare to the words, though it brings with it a discomfort, hair and eyes both turning a dark, queasy green. What a nasty bit of foreshadowing that had been.

OSOZO

The touch and gaze of those to whom we are less than nothing

she tells me, mama you look lovely when you take a stand

There was a gracefulness to Osozo's words, but they act different than they did last they'd met. So lively, with hair that shifted from fire to ice. Now it was coal, dark and plenty telling. She could figure why, but not the specificity of it. She'd recieved no word on the fate of the penumbra, as cruel and dark as it were.

She let a slight smirk cross her face at the mention of the murder mystery, and she nodded. Tilting her head curiously, studying the way their hair grew a tint of moss. "Aisha," she confirmed, then endeavored to pry, "Have you heard anything from back home?" There was no reason for them to, but she felt like she had to ask. How odd it was, that it'd taken so little time for her to absently begin recognizing the hollowed grounds as home.

AISHA

Even having a familiar face nearby does wonders for the strange darkness settling over Osozo, their mind clearing just the slightest bit, the smile on their face growing more genuine, more natural somehow.

If there was breath in Osozo's throat, it would have frozen at the question, the first thing out of Aisha's lips. "I have." They wonder if this is news they should share, if it is meant to be spread around, but it will come out one way or the other, regardless of what they do. The rest of the drink is thrown back, because it feels right, feels dramatic, before the Demi-god fixes his new companion with a red eyed stare. "There's been casualties. The queen, and another." More, they were sure, simply knowing the little they did of Longnight, but this one seemed to carry the most weight, for ascended and non-ascended alike.

OSOZO

The touch and gaze of those to whom we are less than nothing

she tells me, mama you look lovely when you take a stand

They have, Aisha's own eyes widen a bit at this, wondering where they'd gotten it and who from. She inched a bit closer, watching Osozo finish their drink and following the red of their eyes. Red was not a promising sign, but an omen. It swept upon her like the reaper, a cloth that darkened her gaze and cut the tension she'd been carrying with her. She knew now how well their preparations had been executed, how effective her hard work had been. It was for naught, blood stained the grounds regardless.

What a wicked game they'd played, back at the beginning of Deepfrost. A presage to her death, though surely not carried through by the young women with fiery hair. This murder felt like a failure, and Aisha sunk into it as she stared back at Osozo.

A few moments passed before she broke from her thoughts, and snagged a drink from a drunk dancer nearby. She threw back the shot, then passed the glass to another intoxicated man, "Fuck," she murmered back to Osozo.

AISHA

All they can offer in response to her single word is a strangled laugh, Osozo’s hand clapping over their mouth almost as soon as the sound leaves them. They’ve never experienced loss, in any form before, and they know, logically, that this is minor. That Rexanna is distant to them, closer perhaps than a stranger, but that is still not close. Clemente was a stranger, and still that loss bit the Demi-god.

They’re silent another moment, hand clapped tightly over their mouth while the red bleeds away to a pale, watery blue, their hair lightening in patches as well. ”You’d think... of anyone, she’d be safe.” Osozo manages finally. Because she was the queen. Because she was Ascended. Because she’d survived before.

OSOZO

The touch and gaze of those to whom we are less than nothing

she tells me, mama you look lovely when you take a stand

Aisha's eyes narrowed for a moment when an unexpected sound erupted from her company, for now was absolutely NOT the time for laughter. Something about the way they knew it, and tried to cover it up brought her for a moment out of the brutal inner workings of her mind, and the faintest and crookedest of smiles grew upon her lips. Aisha had a terrible habit of finding situational fallacies funny, a nearly fatal flaw in times like this when her brain told her to be upset and sad but her humor told her to smile.

That moment luckily faded with the red of Osozo's hair, her smile disappearing into her hand as she wiped her face. She nodded to their comment, sobered but gods wishing she wasn't. Failure and sadness hit her hard, this week had been doomed from the start but now there was no way around it. "It's not fair," she murmered, remembering Bastien, how happy he'd been with Rexanna, how he'd told Aisha about their baby with so much excitment.

He'd be alone now, and that was some fucked shit.

AISHA

At least their immediate reaction doesn't earn them the girls scorn, the helpless sound only just barely contained. Osozo feels some part of themself settling, more comfortable with the slight acceptance, the acknowledgement that they hadn't reacted too wrong.

"It's not fair, is it?" That was the crux of it, made so simple the demi-god was amazed they hadn't come to the conclusion themself. It wasn't fair. Not for Rexanna, not for Clemente, and not for Bastien. They aren't sure what else to say, but they are content to sit with Aisha for as long as she will allow, enjoying the company while they try to work through the new tangle of feelings they're processing.

Perhaps, by the time the sun rises again, they're feel better.

Fin~

OSOZO

The touch and gaze of those to whom we are less than nothing