wear the moon like a halo

SUNJATA

the flood

feeling alive while you fight for your life
as you swim back to the beaches

He surprises her and her wide gaze immediately makes him want to retreat, makes him want to shrink away, but it softens in an instant and she’s reaching for his hand and he doesn’t pull away. He can only swallow hard when she announces a simplistic answer to his reaction. He nods, agreeing, before his gaze drops from her face to her hand where she holds on.

“I don’t want to be like that, though.” He murmurs, shaking his head and taking a sharp inhale. “It reminds me too much of my father and he’s the last thing I want to be like.” He could be a train wreck, he could be adrift in his own sea, and he would be fine so long as he didn’t become like Shaju, so long as he didn’t act like his father had.

don't be scared of the tide, just prepare for the ride
as you float, you float, you float

Maeve

Understanding shines in the green of her irises and she nods slowly, fingers shifting to lace with his as she holds his hand loosely. He could easily pull away if he wishes too. Maeve licks her lips, considering her words as she searches his face for something. A hint that might tell her what to do here. She comes up short. Instead only seeing what she already knows. A hurt soul and a man who's beaten down. "Then be something else. Anything else." Maeve murmurs, taking a small step closer. She isn't crowding him, but she can feel the heat coming off of his body now.

"I'm sorry I pushed... I know I'm probably not helping things." Not helping with her suggestions or by even being here. She probably didn't help that night they met either. His refusal of her making more sense now than it did then. Her thumb brushes across the back of his hand lightly and she looks down at their entwined fingers. "We can finish this and I can leave you be. I've slowed you down more than enough already."

These violent delights
Have violent ends

SUNJATA

the flood

feeling alive while you fight for your life
as you swim back to the beaches

She interlaces their fingers and Sunjata doesn’t pull away, it’s a grounding for him — some semblance of touch where he surprisingly isn’t hurting her, and he wonders why it hurts Nate so much. He chews on the inside of his cheek, watching their hands before his gaze lifts to her face, to the understanding therein. “I don’t know how.” He tells her bluntly. He always falls back into old habits, he always reverts to simply surviving and not living.

He shakes his head to her apology, waving it off as casually as he can. She doesn’t have to apologize, as always it was him who was the problem. But before he can respond to her, her thumb is brushing against the back of his hand, over the lightning scar tissue there and his gaze is drawn back to it. “Okay.” He says quietly, though he makes no move to step back, to pull his hand out of hers, for what feels like a few long heartbeats.

don't be scared of the tide, just prepare for the ride
as you float, you float, you float

Maeve

I don't know how to. If she hadn't already argued with him so much today she probably would push back against this too, but she doesn't. Her thumb continues to brush against the back of his hand, tracing over that scar there without any hesitation. Maeve offers him a soft smile, the corners of her mouth just barely tugging up to form it. "That's okay. Don't have to know everything." She murmurs, voice honey sweet and warm as she gazes up at him with kind eyes. He doesn't. He can still learn and maybe she could show him that. Maybe. She doesn't know, but she's willing to try.

He doesn't pull away from her. Doesn't make to move. It's like he's finally come to a stop. No more fight in him to keep pushing him forward. "Or we can finish this and disappear for a little bit. Go swimming?" It's such a simple thing to propose. An easy thing. Something without any danger. Except for the fact that she can't swim and he knows that, but she offers it anyway because the ocean brings him comfort and maybe it'll comfort him now too.

These violent delights
Have violent ends

SUNJATA

the flood

feeling alive while you fight for your life
as you swim back to the beaches

She continues to rub the back of his hand, comforting where she can, and she shouldn’t need to do this. He should be perfectly capable of doing it himself, and yet here he was. He sucks in a deep breath, eyes lifting to her face, nodding, and then the prospect of swimming comes up. And honestly? It’s… Bold, because he knows she doesn’t know how, a tidbit he’d picked up from the last time they’d spoken. But it’s also her paying attention as well, that the ocean could calm him given his near drowning experiences.

So he mulls it over, withdrawing his hand after a few long moments before he nods. “I’d like that.” He offers her. There’s almost a boyishly sad smile that crosses his face and doesn’t meet his eyes, but it’s there. A peace offering of a sort. And it’s that which has him withdrawing, to finish loading up the bags with her help alongside the edge of the clinic, before he’s collecting everything into a pile to be taken back home when they were done.

don't be scared of the tide, just prepare for the ride
as you float, you float, you float

Maeve

"Me too." It doesn't sting when he pulls away this time because he's already agreed to her silly little plan. Swimming. Something she really has no idea how to do and admittedly scares the shit out of her. Except he loves it. So maybe it'll be fine. He offered to teach her before and if not she can at least wade in the shallows. Maeve turns her focus back to the work and soon they're done. The clinic is properly boarded up and as safe as it's going to get thanks to their work. Sweat makes the hair at the nape of her neck stick there, clinging to her skin much like her shirt. She grabs the front of it, shaking it out a little to try and cool off.

Maeve glances over at him, pushing her hair away from her face with a huff, "I think we did a pretty good job." She nods, hands planting firmly on her hips as she looks the clinic over with a surge of pride. It felt good to help and she was glad that she came by when she did. Just for this, if nothing else. She's glad Sunjata was here too. That she could be there for him. Just like she is right now when she turns to face him. "So.. I think I said something about swimming? Still up for that?" Maeve asks, arching a brow as she extends her hand to him in hopes he'll take it.

These violent delights
Have violent ends

SUNJATA

the flood

feeling alive while you fight for your life
as you swim back to the beaches

Work goes by quickly, the cleaning up bit. And that’s where it ends, with a muggy afternoon and sweat clinging to their skin, with the promise of a swim to hopefully take his bad mood and put it aside. He hopes it works, a distraction without being the distraction that had gotten him into this mess to begin with. Regardless, the pile is made and put back onto the little wheelbarrow to be taken back to the Slagveld once they were done, and Sunjata’s stepping back over to her.

“We did. Thank you.” He offers her, casting a glance back at the clinic, before he looks back to spy her extended hand. He moves to step beside her, offer his elbow for her to wrap that hand around — gaze peering off to the ocean just around the end of Haulani and waves. “It’ll be nice to cool off.” He rumbles, accepting her offer, before he’s starting to head that way — back to the beach, to the waves that drift deeper and deeper into uncertainty, quite fitting to his moods right now.

don't be scared of the tide, just prepare for the ride
as you float, you float, you float

Maeve

Maeve slips her hand into the crook of his elbow, fingers curling their lightly as he starts to lead the way towards the beach. "It will be." She murmurs in response, eyes on the path he sets them on. Her boots sink into the sand in a way that makes her steps slide just a bit when walking and as a result her hand tightens on his arm. When the water comes in sight, a breath leaves her and her smile grows. Even after living here for all of this time, she never gets tired of looking at it. So large and vast. An endless horizon that holds so much mystery. She loves it. Would probably love it more if she didn't fear for her life every time she got more than waist deep.

The water is still cold and it will most definitely cool them off as soon as they get in. Maeve comes to a stop near an outcropping of rocks, bending to fiddle with the buckles on her boots before pulling them off so her toes sink into the sand. Her shirt goes next, revealing pale milky skin covered only by a scrap of fabric that barely constitutes as a bra, and the faint outline of barbells is apparent through the covering. There is a tattoo on her skin. The first one he's seen and the only one that seems to be prominent. An array of flowers on her right side, extending down from beside her breast to wrap around her ribs until its framing the underside of her breast. A black snake is nestled amongst the flowers. Besides a few stray beauty marks, her skin is free of scars. Another difference between them.

Her fingers go to the buttons on her pants, deftly popping them before she's wiggling out of those too. Her underwear matches that same scrap of fabric, hugging her hips and ass like a second skin. She tosses her clothes onto the rock before casting a glance towards Sunjata to see if he's following suit. Her brow arches as she looks him over, "Well? Are we swimming or not?" Maeve drawls, already taking a few light steps towards where the waves crash against the shoreline.

These violent delights
Have violent ends

SUNJATA

the flood

feeling alive while you fight for your life
as you swim back to the beaches

Honestly, he figures he can take as much time as he wants, given the fact that she’d mentioned she wasn’t a fan of the water. Sunjata is, would likely always be. But she dives straight into removing her clothes, a feat that both shouldn’t and does surprise him. It’s fine, honestly, Sunjata slipping over to step out of his boots, pairing them nicely together (some hidden part of that enforcer within him), followed by his shirt, followed by his pants which do leave him in a pair of shorts.

Where she has her unmarred skin, Sunjata’s is a battlefield. Navy wings spread along both shoulders, blending into the starry wave tattoos for sleeves on his arms, and dead center in his chest sits a constellation, the new one that Safrin had given him, inked black against suntanned bronze skin right beside the arrow swathed in flame above his heart on the left side of his chest. But for the scars? Pale silver lines mark the trails of Nate’s bites along his skin, a long scar from under his ear flows along his neck to the top of his chest, a burn scar has taken out some of his feathered ink on one wing, left behind scars of tentacles.

Pair that with the crescent shaped shark bite scars that span his torso, his legs (one she’d likely see transferred to the orca shift), the lightning scar on his hand travels under the inked tattoo, flaring out across the right side of his chest, creeping ever closer to his heart. Both sides of him have pale lines of the swipes of claws that dip below the band of the shorts. Above his hip sits a freshly pink scar of where his father had twisted the dagger in his side. But there’s muscle beneath it all, broad shoulders, strong legs, powerful despite his mental state.

He doesn’t look at her long, not delving into wanting to look, but he makes note of the tattoo on her skin and how pale she is, before he’s rolling his eyes at her with a hint of playfulness (a surprise, given that he’s been so broody). “I don’t know, are we?” He challenges her, striding right past her into the cold bite of the waves, casting a glance back over his shoulder as he pauses for her. He’d have to go deeper to get more covered by the sea than she does, but at least they could descend into it together.

don't be scared of the tide, just prepare for the ride
as you float, you float, you float

Maeve

There is so much to look at. So much to take in. While Sunjata might not look at her because he's trying desperately to keep some distance between them. She already knows from the night that they met he's interested. That he would have her if it wasn't for everything going on in his life. Maeve, on the other hand, has no such qualms. She looks, eyes raking over his skin. Maeve takes in all of his scars, tattoos, muscle, and skin. She wants to explore those scars. Trace her fingers over them just like she did with the one on his hand. That isn't on the table and she's not sure if it ever will be.

He rolls his eyes at her. He teases and she's glad for it. Maeve huffs, rolling her eyes right back as she follows after him, "Yeah. We are, dear Flood." She retorts, shaking her head as she speeds up her steps, feet slipping in that powdery white sand that makes up their shores. The water is cold as it washes over her feet and she only pauses for a second before pushing further into the waves. Goosebumps rise over her skin and by the time she gets up to her calves, she is sufficiently cooled down.

Maeve watches him stride forward confidently. As if the waves are his second home. Her steps don't falter yet. Even as the water rises to her hips and she swallows thickly, dunking her hands under the surface so he doesn't seem them trembling. Maeve stops when the waves slosh around her waist, drawing in a shaky breath.

These violent delights
Have violent ends

SUNJATA

the flood

feeling alive while you fight for your life
as you swim back to the beaches

Her eyes are on him, he can feel them rove over his mangled amount of skin, but he pretends as though he doesn’t notice. It’s easier that way. It’s easier to pretend, and that’s exactly what he does as he tries to let the playfulness out, in a roll of his eyes, in the way she rolls her own back and taunts back with that moniker of his.

She speeds up to him, goosebumps rising along her skin that Sunjata’s growing accustomed to while he waits for her, waits for the water to devour them both. It reaches up to her waist when she finally stops and the water has barely reached his hips by the time he notices, turning back to her because he knows why she’s stopping. She doesn’t have to hide the tremble of her hands – so he returns, dunking himself a bit lower in the waves, a colder one cresting against his back as he offers both his hands to her to try and draw her further out. “Hold onto me. You’ll float.” He murmurs, gently, flashing a small and surprisingly easy smile given his outburst earlier.

“Don’t be scared. Just breathe. I’ve got you.” His tones rumble, waiting for her to latch on so he might pull her deeper into the waves with him.

don't be scared of the tide, just prepare for the ride
as you float, you float, you float

Maeve

Maeve wasn't sure he'd come back for her. She was preparing to stay right there and watch him disappear further into the waves. Except he does come back for her. He hasn't forgotten her confession and he's not just leaving her. His hands extend towards her, steady and firm. Ready to support her weight and hold her steady even as the waves knock into him. Sunjata doesn't waver once and it's with a hitch in her breath that she places her still trembling hands into his. Maeve tries to smile back, but it's brief as the anxiety starts to set in. "Promise you won't let go?"

Her voice trembles almost as much as her hands. It's the first times she's sounded unsure of herself. No confidence or playful teasing to color her words this time as she looks up at him with wide green eyes. Maeve doesn't take that first step until his arms are fully extended, but she does step forward if only out of fear of losing her hold on him. The water slowly creeps up her waist as the sand gently slopes beneath her feet, taking them deeper into the sea.

These violent delights
Have violent ends

SUNJATA

the flood

feeling alive while you fight for your life
as you swim back to the beaches

Her hands fit into his calloused ones, hers tremble and his are steady as he pulls her along toward him, deeper in the waves as the cold water pours into his bones. “I promise I won’t.” He assures her, offering her a gentler smile. She’d put up with him and his outburst, had held on while he’d been torn between wanting her company and wanting to spiral alone. He takes a deep breath inward, pulling her closer and closer until there isn’t a single way she could slip out of his hands.

“I’m going to partially shift so you won’t feel my legs anymore. Don’t freak out, alright?”  He tries to assure her again, offering as calm of a smile as he can once he’s pulled her to about his collarbone height of water. She’s flush against him at this point, though, not wanting to have her freak out from the space where she might think she’d get swept away.

And he reaches in for that part of himself, the whale shift, partially shifting his lower half to that of the orca. It’s sleek and smooth, aside from the crescent shaped scars in the skin. From his back sprouts the dorsal fin as well as it creeps further up along his body, past his hips.

don't be scared of the tide, just prepare for the ride
as you float, you float, you float

Maeve

Deeper and deeper they go, forcing her up onto her tip toes until her feet can no longer touch the bottom. They kick erratically and the beat of her heart ratchets up, thundering in her ears as her breaths quicken, "Jata..." Trepidation clear in her voice as she looks at the water, unable to see anything but the faint outline of her legs. He pulls her forward as her fingers squeeze his until her knuckles turn ghostly with her grip. There isn't any resistance even as water sloshes up against her jaw and she raises her chin, but he guides her towards his chest and suddenly their is no space between them. Instead it's the warmth of his skin that's been tempered by the cool waves and his grip keeping her secure as water tries to work between their bodies.

If she wasn't so anxious she'd be more aware of the way her breasts press against his chest or how sheer her top has become as water soaks into the fabric. Except she's torn between looking up at him and down at the water. The ends of her hair swirl lightly around her shoulders, inky strands somehow made darker as the curls become weighed down. "I'm not going to freak out. You don't freak out." Disregard the fact that there is nothing for him to freak out about. She's absolutely trying her best and she's not as witty out here as she is on dry land.

To her credit, she doesn't freak out more than she already is. When her feet kick they don't brush against his legs anymore, but instead the smooth skin of his orca shift. A soft noise of surprise rises in her throat and if he wasn't holding on to her she might have slipped beneath the waves. She doesn't and his hold on her never wavers. Maeve looks up at him, green eyes still wide, but her breathing is starting to slow the the knowledge that he isn't going to let her go. She swallows thickly, drawing in a shaky breath as her body slowly acclimates to the way the waves make them bob up and down in their wake. "T-this isn't so bad." Maeve says softly, looking back up at him. There are a few beads of water clinging to her lashes like dew drops on the petal of a flower. A barely there smile tugs at the corners of her lips.

These violent delights
Have violent ends