teardrops of starlight

CHULANE

Can you hear it echoing?
Take my hand

He did his best to explore his mind for what Kia had said about LongNight, for what everyone had ever said about it to him. He knew there were monsters, he knew they terrified a great deal of people - he'd helped the Grounders clean up their partially ruined city afterwards, as well. "She said that they come out to kill, and to get stronger." Something Jigano said, about how the Voice discarded her initial experiments, rose up suddenly in his mind. "Jigano said they are the Voice's early attempts at Ascended? That they lust for ways to upgrade themselves?" Beyond that much, he could hardly imagine - he'd not experienced the torture, the mimicry they were capable of, the psyochological warfare they could wrought on the depending parties.

Another nod, as he agreed with Deimos' words. "We can only try. Whenever there is a chance… we must try." It was all he could think to say in response to such things, all he could cling to in a time of tumultuous emotions and world-changing news. He'd stick to his training - at least he hoped Deimos would continue to teach him, to help him hone his skills and get stronger, more capable, in both combat and his attuned shifts.

But it all tied back to their survival, their resilience to the turmoil that Caido threw at them, to the chaos that Chuy did not fully appreciate when he was first told about it. It was so easy to deny, to focus on the positive, when that was all he had known in his privileged life. Of course others saw him as soft, as weak, as naïve - he was, by the virtue of his life so far. But he was also determined, even if in this moment, he felt anything but. In this moment, he felt like he was breaking, like all the words and assurances he made were hollow - but he made them all the same, in some vague, miniscule hope that they might one day ring true, for both of them.

All the stars we steal from the nightsky
Will never be enough

DEIMOS

The sound of iron shots is stuck in my head
The thunder of the drums dictates

The Voice and her remnants, failed experiments and voids gone awry, no messes cleaned up, and the rest of the Grounds meant to suffer for that week. He couldn’t fathom how they’d done it for hundreds of years, listening to the claws, to the wails, to the screams – he’d only existed there for three, and each one had been more conniving, and anguishing, than the last. “Yes. And they torture you physically and mentally.” He wouldn’t share the horrors, the memories, the way they tainted and contorted voices of loved ones, trying to lure and draw them out into death and desecration – the nightmares had been real, tangible, and fluid; knotted and adorned with thorns and scars. “I can train you for the former, but not the latter.” The beast didn’t doubt Chulane; but it was easy to promise, to pledge, when one hadn’t experienced the weight of such travesties.

When he hadn’t been in the midst, waiting for hell to take him.

Only a nod was given towards the other words, spoken with innocent resilience, to a man who’d survived time after time after time but was so damn tired and exhausted. Who would fight until the ends of the earth, but even still needed rest, a break, from the near-constant torment. Peace just didn’t seem to exist anymore.

The rhythm of the falls, the number of dead
The rising of the horns, ahead

CHULANE

Can you hear it echoing?
Take my hand

He nodded, feeling like it was all he was capable of now. More information, more devastation, more challenges promised. Just a few hours ago he would've been enthused by the prospect of a challenge, incensed to rise to its level and meet it face on - now, he felt like a shell of a man, capable of only nodding in the face of challenges, making promises he wasn't sure he was able of keeping, but making them anyway. He'd try, it was all he could do now - especially in this, especially for her.

Auni stirred, moving his legs beneath himself, and with Chulane's help, he ended up sitting in the vet's lap. Chulane let his hands rest on the luxere, leaning into the affectionate gesture easily, welcoming the closeness. It did something to fill in the void, the abyss within him, something to soften the blow of the loss he'd been through. He bowed over the luxere, shutting his eyes for a moment, just being, existing in this new reality.

And within the newly forged bond, he discovered remnants of her, memories and affections and leftover shadows, feelings that reminded him of the attuned bond, of what they shared together, in times of joy, in times of heartache - they had shared it all. And within Auni, he found it again, and let the feelings just be. It wasn't complete acceptance of what had happened… but it was a step closer to it.

"Let's have something to eat." The suggestion came seemingly at random, after a few second or minutes or hours had passed, after all of the other words were said and done. He wasn't hungry, or thirsty, or anything right now. But he knew they had to keep on going, to persist - even if it felt wrong and broken and fake. Shifting, he gently ensured Auni could support himself, could walk alongside (letting him take some time to drink, giving him more food to eat), and made his way to the door - to leave this place, this house of memories and loss and Kiada.

--

Fin <3

All the stars we steal from the nightsky
Will never be enough