As Sweet as Honey

I R I S There was still a ways to go. The man she'd bullied into following along was a couple of meters behind her frowning profusely. He carried the bee smoker she'd borrowed along with the jars she'd prepared. Iris had never collected honey before and after a brief inquiry about the necessary steps she acquired the helper who'd do it for her. After all, she was still bruised from a run-in with an exceptionally grumpy Fae and, more importantly, she didn't want to get stung. She also happened to enjoy bullying her father's men from time to time. She paused briefly to survey the cliffs, shielding her eyes from the sun, extracted a cigarette from her pocket, tried to light it, failed, sighed, and kept walking uphill. They'd just passed the lighthouse and she was sure that some trees grew up ahead that would provide shelter from the breeze blowing in from the shore. Sunjata

SUNJATA

the flood

'cause we might as well be blind,
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading

Nobody will notice an unassuming macaw in the skies. Least of all one that heads from the jungles, navy wings taking him lower and lower, drifting toward the edge of the cliffs if for no other reason than to search for a distraction. Distractions were common activities for the governor as of late, and he manages to find it as he spies two people passing the lighthouse, a smoker and jars in someone’s hands – though both of them he doesn’t particularly recognize.

Makes sense, he supposes. He hasn’t been around very much lately for meeting everyone. So he drifts closer to them, landing before the lighthouse and shifting into himself, hands in his pockets – peering up at the lighthouse briefly as if he’s deciding whether to enter it and let the strangers continue their way. But there’s something that itches within him, curious if she’s part of the Order or not, whether they both are. It’s enough to have him changing his mind, his course.

“Hey, what’re you looking for?” He asks, rather bluntly but his face and tone is nothing but curious.

you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do

I R I S Iris' frustration with the breeze distracted her from the macaw's transformation. It was the unfamiliar voice that made her turn around. The man carrying her things was the first to respond, appearing surprised at first but quickly sinking back into his melancholy. He grumbled something incoherent into his beard. "Governor!" Iris greeted, lingering on her surprise. She had been so preoccupied with her preparations that she hadn't paid much attention to Torchline's new government, despite her usual interest in the subject. It didn't make sense to bother with something she's soon to leave behind, after all. But she recognized the governor's face. He was on her 'Do not drunkenly offend' list. "Why don't you come along and find out?" She said cheerfully. Backtracking past her grumpy helper up to where Sunjata stood, she rummaged through her pockets. "But first... I just had them... Ah!" She pulled out a stack of matches and put the unlit cigarette between the corner of her lips. "Hold your hands up, like this." She cupped her hands up between them, creating two opposing barriers from the breeze before picking out a match.

SUNJATA

the flood

'cause we might as well be blind,
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading

Honestly, Sunjata pays little mind to the man with the woman, though part of him relishes in the moment of surprise that crosses the man’s face. But his attention is on Iris, as she greets him with her own surprise, an easier smile crossing his face as he dips his head as if he’s saying ‘yep, that’s me’. But his question is aired, curiosity laced through his voice, an avian tilt of his head as he considers her offer. It doesn’t take long, that easy smile twitching a bit wider as he nods, moving to sidle closer to the duo. “Suppose it can’t hurt.” He rumbles as she steps nearer, watching as she pauses to pull the unlit cigarette between her lips.

And it seems she’d like his help with it, lighting it that is, something that he can absolutely do yet not in the way she thinks. So he steps closer to her, to put one hand on the side of the cigarette to block the main bit of the wind that courses through, but his other hand reaches into his pocket to pull out a lighter that someone had crafted for him what felt like ages ago. He holds this one up instead of her match, hits the wheel on it and the flame comes to life, lighting her cigarette.

Of course, he’s not one to let her simply indulge on her own – so he also pulls out a pack from his shirt pocket, pulling one out and lighting it too. “That’s better.” He flashes her a wink and a rogue grin, feeling her out before he peers up the trail in the direction she’d been heading – still curious what it was she was searching for.

you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do

I R I S Iris adjusts the smoke for an easier drag and waits, leaning back slightly and watching in interest as the governor pulls out a small contraption. When a flame surges from it however, her hand darts up without hesitation to help protect it. She leans in and inhales. "What is that? Magic or science?" She asks, her breath coming out in a puff of smoke and beaming with amusement. As soon as Sunjata secured his own nicotine fix Iris turned back to the road ahead and tilted her head in silent invitation. Without any more hesitation she walked on. "Where do you suppose are the tallest cliffs of the Aumakua?" The grumbling minion that followed them still appeared nothing more than unwilling to be there, but he was trailing Iris a bit more closely now that the governor was at her side.

SUNJATA

the flood

'cause we might as well be blind,
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading

“Science.” He offers her as he helps light her cigarette, before turning his back to the wind to light his own. He manages it relatively well thanks to the little contraption, and he closes the lid to it to stick it back in his pocket before he’s walking with her up the hill again, puffing from his own and letting the wind take the smoke away. The question has him tilting his head curiously toward her, pulling the cigarette from his lips as he considers the question.

After a moment of pause and glancing around, he decides some place near the base of Apopo is probably more accurate – a higher elevation just before the jungles stretch out. “Mm, follow the path and branch right, closer to the ocean but where it starts to rise up to the volcano.” He offers thoughtfully, letting his steel gaze slip back to her with a half-smirk, before he’s guiding her the way. “And forgive me, but I don’t think I caught your name.” She already knew who he was, it only seemed fair to him that he finds out a bit more about her, too.

you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do

I R I S She hums in acknowledgement of his answer, calmed by the ritualistic indulgence. The smoke pushed through the cobwebs in her mind. Time was running out, Iris could feel it. She considered the trinket, remembering the pocket it slipped into, amusing herself with the thought of making it disappear. Another puff of smoke and she was watching Sunjata think. A satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of her lips when he came up with the answer and she followed his lead with long, determined steps. "You might have just saved me from some aimless wandering. Maybe even some sunburn." She comments, warmly meeting steely blue eyes. "I'm Iris. It's a pleasure." And it was. The governor was charming in his willingness to help out a wandering teenager. His wording was familiarly refined, set apart from the average Torcher's casually insulting way of speak. It was almost off-putting. Iris thinking that was, of course, entirely hypocritical. She left her surname out on purpose. There was no need to align herself with Erasmus' little enterprise just yet. "Is Torchline treating you right, governor?" She skipped over a rock, casually kicking it back in the direction of the helper who was suddenly sticking to them a little too closely. "Governemnt attracts a whole different brand of animals, doesn't it?"

SUNJATA

the flood

'cause we might as well be blind,
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading

“We’ll see if I’m correct.” His accented rumble fills the wind-whipped air around them as he slants a playful smile her way. She introduces herself and he dips his head in his own quiet greeting. “Pleasure’s all mine, Iris.” Committing her name to memory is easier than he had anticipated, a nice little tidbit to reflect on. Still, he can’t help but to nod to her question as she skips over a rock that rolls toward the man behind them, Sunjata paying him little to no mind.

There’s a low hum of agreement that leaves him before he continues, helping to guide her up the path to where he thinks the cliff is that she seeks. ”It’s been great, actually.” He murmurs, casting his gaze back toward her with a roguish grin. “It isn’t all that different from anywhere else. Always the friends, always the foes. Always the ones that say they can do it better without ever stepping up for it.” Broad shoulders rise and fall in a shrug with that.

He guides her and her companion around the path until their altitude begins to change a fraction, turning the grasses a bit more lush, a few trees dotting here and there as the stone juts out below them above the ocean. There’s still a little ways to go, however, and Sunjata’s managed to finish his cigarette in the time it took them to get here. "I'd say a few more minutes and we'll likely be there. Good news for your... Friend?" He questions, cocking his head back toward the man that follows her.

you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do

I R I S Iris considered his answer, pausing to snicker at his comment. "Just like a criminal syndicate, then." She chirped the statement innocently, with a fine dose of hilarity. She wondered if the governor would find the comparison as amusing as she did. No leader of Torchline has ever been truly "clean". While the other regions subscribe to causes and ideologies to justify their rule, the tropical paradise had always been a more honest place. "Governments do tend to have more bureaucrats though." A visible chill coursed though her body at the thought, like she'd just walked through cobwebs. If being stuck on the fringes of her family's enterprise had taught her anything, it was how much she hated the technicalities of administration and the people who thrived around them. As patches of vegetation started appearing, Iris would wander closer to the cliffs, inspecting them for traces of the famed honey Ludo coveted. They weren't there yet, but her anticipation grew. She'd been paying the man trailing them no mind until Sunjata pointed him out once again. Glancing behind to see him glare and mumble once again she shrugged. "A helper. Well, he was supposed to be. Supposedly he knew the terrain, but I think he just drew a short straw." Raising the volume of her voice by a fraction she added, "The job would be easier if he did it with a smile." She turned back to Sunjata and adjusted the volume accordingly, "You don't boss any minions around? Just for afternoon entertainment?" Her tone suggested she spoke in jest, although evidence pointed to the contrary.

SUNJATA

the flood

'cause we might as well be blind,
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading

A low hum leaves him in a quiet chuckle at her response, a bob of his head and a rogue smirk splashing across his face. “Not too different.” He agrees easily. He already wasn’t the cleanest person, deals made here and there between his rule, his guild, and the smugglers via Jack. They all went hand in hand and he was simply there to play a face, only to have another hidden in shadow behind.

He does offer her a snort at the mention of bureaucrats, an almost exhausted sigh leaving him. “It’s a shame, really.” He murmurs with all the playfulness as they climb along the pathway, as the jungle begins to grow both dense and open the closer to the cliffs they got. He guides her still, glancing back toward the man that accompanies them who appears as though he’d never wanted to show up in the first place.

At least, if the glare was any indication.

There’s a louder laugh that leaves him. “A few. Though most of my entertainment comes from the ring.” He offers Iris honestly, flashing a wicked smirk her way. Yes, most of his entertainment came from the boxing ring, with training and both kicking people’s asses and having his own handed back. But he guides them through a set of trees that dangle over the edge of the cliffs, pausing to glance down them and to the rest of Torchline in the distance as he mulls it over. “Hmm, somewhere around here perhaps.” And he stands still, dark brow raised at the man holding the smoker, still trying to figure out what it is they’re searching for.

you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do

I R I S Iris echoes Sunjata’s mood, an amused giggle and a gentle nudge of the elbow coming his way. He was turning out to be far more pleasant than she’d come to expect from the men and women running Torchline. Iris looked at the dark-haired man with curious wonder. She’d expected the head of the beast to be a lot uglier. ”I wonder, do the rest of Caido’s leaders have your sunny disposition?” Meanwhile, as the vegetation got denser Iris’ mood got brighter. There was an added spring in her step as she wandered the invisible trail upwards. Her eyes were drawn to the colorful flowers that began to appear among the green while the sound of insects became a humming constant. ”I prefer the bow. There’s something meditative in the draw and release,” she said, voice turning dreamy. ”And a catharsis in pinning down your target. Also, a lot less danger to the face,” she added with a chuckle, fingers fluttering in the direction of her well-kept features. Upon Sunjata’s announcement Iris turned pensive. She quickly made her way to the edge of the cliff, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the way the bright rock reflected sunlight. She stepped onto a protruding tree-trunk and leaned over the chasm to get a better view. The breeze was rougher here. It ruffled her hair as she searched the cliffs. Soon, she started spotting the constructs that stuck to the rock in defiance of gravity. But she remained in her spot, watching, looking for the right one. Then, she looked up and saw it. No more than fifty meters away stood an overhang, draped in vines. Behind the green curtain stood a hive, almost two meters wide, sticking to the rock like a seashell in dark glittering gold. Iris pushed herself off the tree and turned, grinning, to Sunjata. ”Look,” she beckoned him closer and pointed in the direction of the hive. ”That’s what we’re hunting.” With that, she set off towards the cliff, leaving her helper to stare over the edge in stunned disbelief in what such a seemingly benign task was turning out to be.

SUNJATA

the flood

'cause we might as well be blind,
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading

“Depends.” Sunjata chimes with a bit of amusement, a quiet smirk on his face. “I like to think I reflect Torchline quite well.” Whether or not that’s true is another story. So instead he focuses on the answer she gives him on what she prefers. He offers her a nod and a chuckle at the mention of less danger to the face, Sunjata’s hand rising to his jaw as if to rub at sore muscles and finally disappeared bruising. “Mm, that is true. Last time I dislocated my jaw.” And it hadn’t entirely kept him down.

But they’re moving a bit quicker now as Sunjata guides him toward the spot he’d figured that whatever it was she was looking for would be found. She bounds ahead of him and he follows curiously, watching as she climbs onto a protruding tree trunk above the cliff, Sunjata approaching the edge without hesitation and leaning over – unworried of whether he’d fall or not, he could shift into a bird and fly his way back out after all.

So he accompanies her when she tells him to look, his steel gaze scanning the side of the cliffs until his brows furrow a bit and he looks back to her with a disbelieving smile. “We’re here for bees?” He asks, raising a brow. “If that’s the case…” He casts a glance back at the smoker, pausing to lick his lips as he follows her to get closer to the hive, unworried of the anger of the bees as he reaches out. “Let me give you a hand, then.” He reaches out and compels quite a few of the worker bees on the outside of the hive to go and collect pollen and leave them alone, convincing them that they’re not a threat. They zip past him and Iris until they disappear into the foliage behind them and his gaze turns expectant to her. “So what do you need to get from them? I’m assuming it’s not a bee. A piece of the hive? The honey?”

you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do

I R I S Her subtle inquiry about the rest of the continent's leadership was ignored in place of some self-praise from the governor. She chose to show no outward reaction to the statement, merely to wonder if it meant there was an ulterior motive lurking beneath his jovial demeanor. There was nothing Iris could think of that reflected Torchline better than underhandedness and trickery served with a smile. That was the way she was raised, anyway. She hissed at Sunjata's (somewhat proud?) recollection of his injuries, her hand instinctively going up to her own face while she looked down the man's jawline. Iris was to remain forever oblivious to the appeal of the ring. On the other hand... Betting on these fights might prove profitable. "I should come watch you in the ring sometime. Should be quite a show if you give as good as you get." Her tone was subtly teasing while her eyes leisurely roamed across the fighter's skin for spots unmarked with injury. Thoughts of future profits faded as her current prize stood before her. Then she and her helper both watched as Sunjata shoved his hand into the hive without hesitation. When it awakened and gushed outwards Iris took a few steps back, even if the governor seemed to have its residents under a spell. Finally, she hummed, "Neat." She clapped her hands, rushing her miserable assistant along. "Off you go now." As grumpily as ever, he complied, drawing out a dull knife and starting to scrape the honey off of the gigantic hive. "What else have you got in your bag of tricks?," Iris asked Sunjata, visibly impressed, eyes wide with the possibilities. "Can you make seagulls shit on your enemies? Direct swarms of mosquitoes at annoying tourists?" A wide, childish grin spread across her face.

SUNJATA

the flood

'cause we might as well be blind,
if seeing is believing, this parable's misleading

“Mmm, well, I do try.” Sunjata remarks easily in regards to giving as good as he gets in the boxing ring. “Should drop by some time, I think you might enjoy it.” He offers her with another playfully roguish smirk. Little would he know that it would be taking a back seat in the future – with more scars and far more pain and worry than what Sunjata could imagine. But when he was back on his feet again? He’s unsure what could stop him from the boxing ring again.

As it was now, however, he reaches into himself for that attunedness, to compel the bees away from them as Sunjata remains standing nearby, peering at the hive, trying to ensure he’d distracted them enough. All it really took was finding the queen and getting her to take a quick little vacation. They could come back to it, he doesn’t care, but for the moment it’ll keep the bees settled enough to not start stinging the ever living shit out of them.

He remains idly by, shoving his hands into his pockets, peering at Iris while her assistant worked. His steel gaze lingers on her, a huff of a laugh leaving him as she details out the things he could possibly do. “I could. Though for some reason I haven’t done it yet.” His shoulders shrug, his amusement shifting to something more mischievous. “I got a few encantados to summon a storm to attack the sea panther recently.” Though he doesn’t admit that the endeavor with that lead to the lightning scars on his body.

you've got your shotgun loaded with excuses
— that you'll fire in vain —
but those 12 rounds just won't do