(SE) bury me face down

SUNJATA

the flood

It reverbs in his mind, that he’s unwell, over and over again until it’s really the only thing Sunjata can think about. There’s a moment of clarity that sparks, has him nodding again when it comes to trying to feel better, unsure if that’s even possible. “Maybe.” He catches her grin but can’t find it in him to return it, instead his hand going back to the wound at his stomach, scabbed and surprisingly clean for how unkempt he’d been.

“And forgetting…?” He asks, staring down at the claws, imagining jet black claws of a demon swiping at his stomach. He tears his gaze away, breath hitching before he realizes nothing has happened to him and he can focus on the blinding street home, huddled in the shade with Haai continually poking him in the ankles. “I don’t remember any of it. Did I… Do this to myself?” He frowns, looking back down at the wound on his stomach and furrowing his brows. He teaches for Vai then, hoping to use her as a tether, but when he looks up to spot her face again, she’s different. Not the witch he remembers, but someone far older in his memory, someone that had told him to rebel against his father, and he stutters in his step — not knowing what was real or not. “I’m sorry, Mom.” He whispers.

did you get out all of that angry passion?
is it still formin'? Has it started to torture you?

”Maybe forgetting,” Vai murmurs, following his gaze down to the injuries as he notices them, as if for the first time. Honestly, it’s probably more of a secondary effect of the fever than anything else, but it all counts towards the sickness that he’s suffering from. It’s with a sad frown, though, that she has to admit that she doesn’t know where he’s been or what he’s done. ”I’m not sure. You might have hurt yourself. You’ve been missing for a bit, we’ve been out looking for you,” she explains. Sunjata reaches for her and she ducks under his arm, helping to keep guiding him along the shade of the buildings - the trek up to the lighthouse feels like too much for now, but she knows the Slagveld is nearby. Being somewhere familiar might help keep him grounded, so it’s to there that Vai heads. She starts, though, to hear him call her Mom, of all things, the witch glancing up at him. ”You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” she says, giving his arm a gentle pat. ”Nearly there, come on.” vervain well i'll rest my eyes and i'll let the earth breathe

SUNJATA

the flood

She doesn’t know and he doesn’t know and it’s a loss as to what could have caused it. So he follows her, slipping from shade to shade until he notices a vaguely familiar building. The Slagveld. But it holds no weight when his attention slips back to her beneath his arm — when had he gotten so tall in comparison to her?

“I do.” He rumbles quietly, accent thicker as he frowns and looks back toward the road. “So many things. Like… Like when I didn’t call dad.” He works at the inside of his cheek again, guided by Vai until the cool darkness of the boxing ring envelops them. And rather than staying down here, he tugs her along to the Advocates rooms, thinking nothing of it. He fiddles in a pocket for a key while he thinks, before he unlocks the door and steps into a far cooler, dustier section of the Slagveld.

“Because I didn’t call him and I thought… I watched him try to kill you.” His brows furrow, looking back to Vai as if he can see through the hallucination, forgetting that’s a symptom. “But you didn’t die… Or you did, and you came back when you got here… Like Luci.”

did you get out all of that angry passion?
is it still formin'? Has it started to torture you?

”Not to me, you don’t. You never have to apologise to me.” Vai smiles; it’s true that she’s only saying what she thinks he’d like to hear, given that he thinks she’s someone else, and she focuses her efforts on getting them up and into the offices in the boxing ring. It’s cooler but the air is musty, and Vai moves to try and open one of the windows (the one that... isn’t boarded up - she’s not going to ask). Returning to Sunjata, she carefully sits him down on an upturned crate, looking him over and sighing. ”What are we going to do with you?” she asks, taking in the sunburn, the dehydration, the injuries anew. ”Come here, let’s put you back together a bit.” She rubs her hands together, reaching out to rest cool hands against his temples. ”We need to make sure you’re well enough or your wedding after all.” vervain well i'll rest my eyes and i'll let the earth breathe

SUNJATA

the flood

He blinks his confusion as he watches her, hears her say he doesn’t need to apologize for anything. It soothes something within him, makes it easier to acknowledge and hum his okay before they’re in the Advocates Guild now, not that Vai would truly know that’s what this was.

She sets him down on a crate and he can’t help but to lean forward, elbows braced on his knees as he closes his eyes and rests his head in his hands, feeling the fever sweat and heat along his forehead. “I don’t know how this keeps happening.” He murmurs, quietly, frustrated before he lifts his head up to look at Vai.

Her hands find his temples and he closes his eyes, waiting for something to happen. “Will you come to it?” He asks, of the wedding. “I promised you I’d do the tradition… And I was married before and I did it but… I’m redoing it this time.” He extends his left hand out for her to see, the pale scar that crosses the inside of his hand.

did you get out all of that angry passion?
is it still formin'? Has it started to torture you?

”How what keeps happening?” Vai wonders, and there’s a sadness in her tone that suggests she knows what he might be talking about. But it would be good to hear it from him nonetheless. With her thumbs pressing gently to his temples, the witch falls silent for a moment to concentrate. Cool healing energy flows out of her and into Sunjata, soothing away the redness of his skin back to its regular tan, smoothing away the marks of claws and teeth. She tries to tackle the fever too, while she’s there, but it rises like an impossible wall before her magic. Something beyond, something other. It can’t be touched, it can’t be beaten back - not by the skills she possessed, anyway. Opening her eyes, Vai smiles a little as she looks over him, pleased to see him looking a bit better physically, if nothing else. ”Of course I’ll come to your wedding,” she says. ”If you want me there, I’ll be there.” She of course knows absolutely nothing about the tradition he’s talking about, but as he shows her his hand, she reaches out to brush her fingers cross the scars, as if trying to guess at what they mean. vervain well i'll rest my eyes and i'll let the earth breathe

SUNJATA

the flood

“How this keeps happening to me.” He rumbles, wanting to gesture to the scars that span his body, to the wounds he doesn’t know how he got. But he doesn’t, because his head is held in cool hands, feeling some relief swarm through him. It’s the only thing he can focus on, the way his skin and flesh begin to heal with the help of the witch, the woman he thinks at this moment is his mother.

He finds it fitting that his mother would have healing magic.

But when it’s done, tanned skin remains in place of burns, the claw scratches to his chest are healed and scarless, the wound to his wrist are healed as well. And when she pulls away, his steel gaze is soft as he looks up at her, explains the tradition. But he’s not sure she gets it, she wasn’t here for it. “I do.” He murmurs softly about the wedding. And as she strokes the scar on his hand, he focuses on it far more intently. “I wish I could remove it and pretend it never happened. It didn’t last long, but I want a new one. With Nate. He’s getting one too. It will last longer.” They agreed that the wedding tradition of scars would be placed upon both their hands, their blood both to be placed upon the other with the backwards Korofi words spoken, the only promise he made his mother when it came to marriage.

did you get out all of that angry passion?
is it still formin'? Has it started to torture you?

”Maybe it’s to make you stronger,” Vai suggests softly, her other hand brushing across his cheek, as if trying to focus him on the here and now rather than the scars that span his body. Her eyes drop to the scar on his hand again, and whilst she has absolutely no idea what the tradition means, at least Vai can try to make him feel better. ”I don’t think you should want it gone,” she says, a gentle nudge at acceptance. ”It might not have lasted long, but it’s still an important part of your past. If you want to make a new one with Nate, it can add to your story.” Reaching up, she smooths damp hair away from his forehead, a sigh slipping between her lips. ”I think you need to get some rest, Sunny.” vervain well i'll rest my eyes and i'll let the earth breathe

SUNJATA

the flood

To make him stronger. It’s a mantra that keeps running around his mind, one that in his fevered state makes him want to shy away from it. So he focuses on the scars, on Vai’s acceptance of it where he has none, and his lip quivers slightly. “I want it gone.” He repeats, staring down at the pale scar that spans his palm. “Can you take it away? I don’t want it as part of my story. I don’t want her as a part of my story.” He doesn’t want to remember it every time he looks at his hand, with a new scar over it with Nate’s scar. He just wants Nate’s.

His gaze lifts then to hers as she runs her fingers along his forehead, a bead of sweat dripping down from his temple that runs to his jaw. “I can rest after.” He can see the shifting and melding of her face, of bright blue eyes that meld to a greenish hue, the way her curled hair shifts longer and shorter, and he has to look away — afraid that when he looks at her next she won’t be who he thinks she is.

did you get out all of that angry passion?
is it still formin'? Has it started to torture you?

At first she doesn’t know how to respond - not because she can’t do it of course; Vai is simply worried that he’ll regret it once he’s sane again. But Sunjata seems coherent enough, at least when it comes to this, and as a matter of wedding traditions and promises... there’s no way to refuse it. ”Okay,” she whispers, nodding and letting her hand drop so she can hold his between both of her palms. ”Just this time, though. I don’t want you thinking you can get married over and over again, just because I can get rid of the scar.” Her hands are already pulsing with a soft light, and when Vai’s fingers slip away again, he’ll be blemish free. At least on that part of his body. ”You can rest now,” she objects, her tone gently insistent. ”Just lay down for a bit, okay? While I clean everything up.” And tries to find out how best to get him back home. vervain well i'll rest my eyes and i'll let the earth breathe

SUNJATA

the flood

She agrees, and his hand flattens out in her own, his gaze focused on watching the healing magic smooth out the scar as if it were never there before. And the smile that crosses his face at seeing it gone is boyish, grateful, pleased. “I won’t… Just Nate.” He promises, flexing his hand a bit as she withdraws her hand, his other hands fingers running along where the pale scar had been to find nothing remaining. There’s a shimmer in his gaze, of tears of gratitude that he can’t quite keep from falling.

And when he looks back at her next, it’s still his mother he sees. “Thank you, mom.” It comes out as a whisper, and he does exactly as she says — standing to step over to the bed, curling up with his hand clutched in his other hand, running fingers along the scar that’s gone as he closes his eyes to try and get some rest.

— FIN <3

did you get out all of that angry passion?
is it still formin'? Has it started to torture you?