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 pulls her along, keeps her close as can be, tries to let her become accustomed to the idea of it all as the water presses in. He isn’t going to let her go. “Don’t look down.” He murmurs to her gently once they’re pressed against each other. “Just look at me.” Easier that way, keeps her head above the water, keeps her chin high above the waves. He does angle them, however, so the waves that press in break against his back rather than hitting them from the side to take her by surprise – and his gaze scans her face to see how she’s adjusting to it.

He can feel her legs brush against the shift of his, one hand moving to let go of her hand to rest around her middle, the other hand still tangled with her own. “It isn’t so bad, no.” He offers her gently. “You’re doing great, by the way.” He offers her just as much of a ghosting smile as she offers him. “We can try it here if you want, but perhaps the Miana would suit better to the first true lessons of swimming. Essentially, you will need to learn to float.” The hand around her middle spreads out, spanning against her skin in the middle of her back. “Move so that it’s like you’re laying on your back and you won’t sink.” He hums to her, entirely giving her the option of whether or not it’s something she wants to do once they reach where he figures is the best place to start.

He remains where he is in relation to her, however, that orca tail of his keeping them afloat, dragging them toward smoother waters where the waves aren’t as choppy, despite it being deeper. She’d be able to tell with the way the tail bumps against her, the way it pushes off the currents down below, despite Sunjata easily pulling her along against his chest.

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

Maeve

The instructions are easy enough to follow. Green meets steel blue and she notices how much softer he seems out here adrift in the sea. As if he's come to a home he knows more intimately than the one on back on shore. His jaw isn't clenched tight, threatening to crack a tooth with the pressure of it. Maeve focuses on him, letting her breathing slow and her heart starts to beat more steadily. That staggered staccato it was slamming against her ribs earlier fading into a steady pulse with the waves that push against his back. "Guess it's a good thing you're pretty nice to look at." It's a gentle tease. A hint of her playful demeanor bubbling up as he holds her securely to him.

He lets go of her hand and she's half a second from protesting, but then that hand is spanning almost the entirety of the small of her back. Warm and firm as it keeps her snug against him. Maeve smooths that free hand up his chest now, curling at his shoulder as her finger tips press into tan skin. The praise draws a bigger smile to her lips, lighting up her features with delight. If there was one obvious thing about Maeve, it was that the girl lived to please.

"My first true lesson? This isn't it?" Her brow arches and she keeps her chin up, eyes trained on his face as he explains. That smile slowly morphs into a smirk and she's unable to resist the temptation of poking fun at him, "Are you saying I get to do this again? Aren't I a lucky girl." Maeve giggles, but she doesn't make a move to actually try and float. Perhaps her flirting is a distraction to delay what he's suggesting she attempt. Her heart is threatening to pick up speed again, fear already trying to well up in her belly all over. Maeve swallows thickly, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as she looks up at him, willing herself to move more than she already is, but nothing happens. "I- I don't think I can.." She whispers as if she's confessing a sin, cheeks flushing pink.

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 ease makes it easier for him to relax, now that he has some semblance of control within the waves. Another playful roll of his eyes is given to her, a tilt of his head. “You sure you’re not distracted?” He raises a dark brow to her, turning his head slightly so that the scar that spans half of his face is angled toward her. He manages to bring them to the smoother waters though, the two of them floating along the sea where he keeps her close to his chest.

“Technically it is, I suppose. But you had only asked to swim and not a lesson, so technically not.” This is said with an easier smile, a crooked smirk crossing his face, peering down at her as the waves dance around their shoulders. It fades as her worry sets in though, his hands never leaving where they connect, letting her curl against him as she needs to.

She peers up at him with that doe-like worry, nibbling on her bottom lip, and Sunjata tries to reassure her before an idea springs to mind. “You’ll be fine. I’m right here.” He moves now, letting go of her hand and using it to align her up with him, pulling her onto him as he moves onto his back, giving her a chance to float without actually floating by herself. “How’s that?”

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

Maeve

He's rolling his eyes at her, but it's with that same playful nature as before, "I'm sure. Unless you mean distracted by you? In which case, absolutely." Maeve shoots back and that hand that's on his shoulder slips to his neck and her thumb barely brushes across the scar on his face. Her head tilts a little closer and for once they're even thanks to his grip on her and the help of the water, "I stand by my answer. Very nice to look at."

It's her turn to arch a brow at him, thumb still tracing along his jaw almost absentmindedly, "Didn't know you were so into technicalities, dear Flood." She drawls, a smile playing on her lips, but it doesn't last long because he makes the suggestion to try and float. Her body is unwilling to comply, but of course he has a solution.

His hand leaves hers and instantly she grips onto his other shoulder because he's suddenly moving her. A soft sound of surprise leaves her as she finds herself straddling his waist just above where his orca tail starts. Her legs dangle into the water and she barely holds herself up with hands braced against his shoulders. It takes a moment to adjust to the new position, but it's not bad. A thought pops into her head and she's giggling, the sound soft as she looks down at him, "When I thought about you being under me for the first time... I can't say this is exactly what I had in mind." Maeve murmurs, a mischievous smirk curling on her lips as she finds herself almost nose to nose with him.

These violent delights
Have violent ends

SUNJATA

the flood

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

His nose wrinkles with the compliment – never having been one to take them. It takes a while for it to sink in, paired with the fact that she (and those that had called him such) could be lying. But there’s that part of him internally that preens with it, the attention. A part of him that always would. As for technicalities? Sunjata snorts, his head tilting ever so slightly in the touch to his jaw, the fingers along his neck over the compass tattoo. “Sometimes technicalities are called for.” He murmurs, shrugging his shoulders lightly before he’s switching them up.

He moves to pull her onto him, like a raft of sorts, Were she to sit up, she’d be able to see the way the shark bite scars beneath her meld into the orca shift that sprouts, the bronze skin that fades to a pale moon white on his stomach, curled by a sharp edge of ink black. But as it were, now, they’re eye to eye and Sunjata’s quiet rumble is in the air.

She giggles though, and he’s silent for a moment as he considers her, his hands abandoning her back to rest along her legs, his tail curling around the current in the waves. “Hmm, me neither.” He murmurs, flashing a quiet huff of air that was certainly some sort of laugh. “This is nice though, is it not?” He tilts his head in the water, one of the waves crashing against his face where it flows along his neck and shoulder, but it doesn’t affect him more than a simple blink.

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

Maeve

"And are technicalities called for here? Because if you're looking for an excuse to spend more time with me you don't have to try so hard." Maeve coos, resting against his chest with her forearms braced carefully against him. She's mindful not to dig her elbows into him. Not that she thinks he'd complain all that much, but she's trying to be a good passenger. Maeve lets her fingers play over his skin, tracing tattoos and scars with featherlight touches as the water washed over his chest.

His own hands shifts from her back to instead grip her legs at the crook of her knees, keeping her anchored to him. Not that she would dare think to move away. Even if they were on land and not floating offshore. He huffs something that could be considered a laugh and it makes her grin grow, "So you've thought of being beneath me? How lovely." She coos, bending so they are almost nose to nose as she relaxes atop him. Maeve nods, hair falling forward into her eyes as she gazes down at him, "It is nice... I could get used to this."

These violent delights
Have violent ends

SUNJATA

the flood

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

“Who said I was looking for an excuse?” He shoots back – finding it easy to get stuck in this banter, because at least this playful teasing and gentle prodding meant he didn’t have to think of everything else that was falling apart. Here he was afloat in the ocean, buoyed by his partial shift and the fin for a tail, the dorsal fin that juts out along his spine stark and sharp. Her hands travel along his skin, featherlight and gentle against him and given the scar tissue his body suffers, well, he feels it but he also doesn’t.

Suddenly, though, she’s all against him, his hands hooked beneath her knees, smirking lightly up at her. “The swimming or the view?” He asks, raising a dark brow, unable to keep the smirk from his face as he peers up at her, the waves rocking them gently as he directs them with ease from his flipper. One hand rises from being hooked behind her knee to run along her leg, to her side, following along the trail of the ink there that he noticed but didn’t comment on, all while remaining silent to await for her answer.

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

Maeve

Maeve arches a dark brow of her own, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth even as her lips curl up into a smile, "Are you admitting that you don't need an excuse to spend time with me?" She quips in response, wit whip sharp as she plays this game with him. It's so easy to fall into it. Eager and willing as she is to help him forget because she truly is. She wants nothing more than to help him through it. Not necessarily with sex. Maeve is fairly certain that it won't help. Given how he got into the mess in the first place, but they can play. They can play, tease, poke, and prod without consequence. Her touch grows more firm, fingers finding the knots that tense in his shoulders and she carefully works them loose.

Her smirk matches his and she's tempted to close the space, but doesn't dare move. Not when they've settled into this playful warmth. "Is it too bold to say both or are we past that point?" To be fair, she's practically naked and laying atop of him in the ocean with scant scraps of fabric covering her modesty. When the warmth of his fingers trail over her skin, making her shiver as goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch. "I already know how you feel about swimming. I'd rather like to know your opinion of the view." Maeve murmurs, greens eyes searching his steel gaze as the waves rock them gently.

These violent delights
Have violent ends

SUNJATA

the flood

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

“Of course I don’t need an excuse.” He assures her, an easy quip back as he smirks to her. “I’m the Governor.” And arguably one of the most powerful men in Torchline, though he doesn’t say that part. It doesn’t feel right, given everything else. So he settles, focusing on her and her breathing, on the feel of her warmth atop him that does wonders to surprisingly ground him, adrift in the ocean.

As for both? Well, he can’t help but to offer another breathy hum of a laugh, the water crashing against his chest and her side this time. He takes a deep breath, scanning her face, running his hand up and down her side if only to have something to do. His head tilts back as he considers it, the view, watching her wait for his answer with a hint of hidden amusement. “I think the view isn’t what I expected when I set out today.” He pauses, because it isn’t coming out right — a standard theme of his. “It’s beautiful, though.” His hand rises again, drawing his fingertips along her side to her ribs, lingering there as he peers up at her.

He’s quietly thankful for the distraction she brings in the form of her against his skin, in the playful teasing tones she offers, in the way their breaths mingle and her hands run along his bronze skin, navy tattoos, and scars.

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

Maeve

A huff of laughter bubbles out of her and she rolls her eyes at him, "The Governor, the Flood... What else do they call you I wonder?" She hums, tilting her head to gaze down at him as she licks her lips, tasting the salt there from the stray drops of water that have stuck to her skin. "So many things I could choose to croon to you." Maeve murmurs, a gentle heat simmering in the depths of her green eyes. Nothing like that first night they found themselves tangled up in each other. It's softer. Almost sweet. She likes playing this game with him. Whatever it is.

When the wave crashes against her side and partially washing over her back, she does not startle. Be it from the comfort she finds in his embrace or perhaps his calm here in the water. Maeve can't place her finger on it, but she doesn't question it. Instead grateful that the fear doesn't come to grip her chest as he supports her weight with ease. Her brow arches even as her fingers press firmly into his skin, easing any remaining tension in his body as his hand roves over her own skin. "What were you expecting? Dreary skies?" Maeve teases as her fingers slip up his neck, over the compass tattoo and teasing into his wet curls. The strands slip through her fingers easily, "I'm glad you find it pleasing enough, dear Flood."

Her words come out in a coo as she takes in a breath, stealing his exhale and letting it fill her lungs instead. Maeve cocks her head to the side, eyes dipping to his lips and then back to his eyes. That same steel gaze that seems so soft as he regards her now. Be it because of the sea or because of her, she can't tell, but she's glad it's resting on her now.

These violent delights
Have violent ends

SUNJATA

the flood

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

He could delve into the worse things they call him, but he doesn’t for once. Instead, he simply tilts his head lightly, peering up at her curiously, watching and waiting for whatever it was she planned to say next. “What might those be?” He asks, his tones easy if not entirely curious what her thoughts were on the matter, what nicknames she might give him if given the chance. Purely out of curiosity of course, but curiosity often killed the cat.

She doesn’t falter when the wave crashes, doesn’t as his hand remains there to support her and she relieves the tension in his shoulders, in his chest, in all the spaces where he lets it sit and grow and grow until it’s all he is. “Oh, quite dreary.” He murmurs, playfully if not a bit distracted by the way her hand runs through his hair, along his neck. His jaw tenses briefly as he watches her steal that exhale, so many memories of himself stealing the smoke off Nate’s exhale.

But he scans her face instead, reaches into himself to stop extending his partial shift as his soul has been doing, the orca shift crawling up his hips to his stomach, a smooth surface beneath her that might become too slippery. He pauses tear his gaze away from her to spy the storm clouds that break overhead, shimmering in hues of pinks and purples through the moody grey skies. And with it comes a sharper gust of wind, one that has a particularly large wave coming toward them. “Hold on.” He informs her, wrapping his arms around her to spin them slightly so avoid the majority of the wave, to roll a fraction with the after current. But they come back up again, Sunjata helping her to the surface with ease, as if the large wave hadn’t bothered him at all.

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

Maeve

Maeve seems to consider this for a moment, tapping at her lips in thought with her free hand that isn't currently soothing those knots that hold his frame so tight. So much tension from supporting the hardships that never seem to stop for him. Still, she doesn't pity him. Maeve didn't lie when she said that. She hasn't lied to him once. Her eyes meet his and her lips curl as she drops her hand back to join the other. "There are the usual things... Darling, lover, sweetling." Maeve muses, watching his expression as she feeds him each little name. "Of course.. I already call you Jata and dear Flood," her lips quirk into a playful smile, bottom lip catching between her teeth, "But perhaps you need another? Beastie?"

She seems proud of herself, laughing softly as she dips her head down for just a moment, lips close to her ear, "What do you think, beastie?" Maeve coos sweetly before she's drawing back to look at him, arching a perfectly shaped brow. She nods, regarding him with soft eyes as he admits that he was expecting nothing but grey skies to match that dark mood of his. Not that she blames him. Of course he wasn't expecting anything good to come from this day. She's not even sure if she qualifies as good, but she'll take it.

Vaguely she feels the shift crawling further up his belly, slick skin of his orca shift pressing against the soft skin of her belly. If he wasn't holding on to her, she might slip, but he is and she doesn't. His eyes flick away from her face and she's about to follow his gaze when his words of warning come. Hold on. Green eyes going wide before she realizes what's happening just in time to draw in a quick breath and squeeze her eyes shut. He rolls them quickly, trying hard to keep her head above the water, but the wave is too big and it's hard for him to position her. The water crashes over them, washing over her head in a cold rush and the panic floods through her chest even though her head is only under the water for a second.

She sputters, clinging onto him tightly as her hair clings to her face, sticking to her neck and cheeks as water runs down in rivulets over her skin. Maeve doesn't let her hands leave his shoulders to push it from her face. Her heart hammers wildly against her chest, beating erratically against his.

These violent delights
Have violent ends

SUNJATA

the flood

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

He lets the usual nicknames roll off her tongue, his face impassive and masked as they land, finding nothing particularly him within them. Until she says the nicknames she already has come up with, but even then she picks another, one that has her smiling and amused and Sunjata’s head tilts toward her curiously. This breaks his composure, a dark brow raising and a crooked smirk forming on his face. “Beastie?” He murmurs, as if tasting it on his tongue, her whisper in his ear has him focusing a bit more intensely on it. “You haven’t even seen the half of them yet.” He rumbles, managing an almost awkward huff of a laugh, before he can feel the shift in the waves, the break in the clouds, the wind that pulls and tugs at them.

But he does his best to protect her, to keep her head above water, to keep her flush against him. And despite them both going under, he manages it. He keeps her pressed against him, however, close enough to feel her rabbiting heart, one arm wrapped around her while the other lifts to pull her hair from her face and her eyes. “You’re okay.” He rumbles, reaching down once he’s managed to pull the hair from her eyes and cheeks and neck to rest that arm around her too.

He isn’t on his back anymore, they’re both quite upright in the water, bobbing with each subsequent wave, enough that his dorsal fin cuts through the following waves that try to come at them from behind him, smoothing it out. “You did well holding on.” He offers her an easy smile to that, encouragingly.

Because the ocean was unpredictable, much like himself, and when it threw the waves at you sometimes all you could do was roll with them and hope that you came out right side up on the other side.

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

Maeve

She doesn't get to answer him back. There is no time for teasing or hinting that he could show her more. No time for any of it because they are rolling, tumbling, and surfacing moments later. Her breathing is quick again. Pants that push past her lips as he carefully brushes back her hair from her face. He tenderly tends to her, rumbling a gentle encouragement as he rights her current state of being. Maeve drops her forehead against his as she wills her breathing to slow. To match his and the push and pull of the waves. In and out. In and out. In and out. Finally, they slow enough that she can thank to even answer him. "I don't know that you could pry me off." Maeve whispers, words almost lost to the waves, and her eyes finally open. That soft green meets the steel grey of his and her hand comes up to his cheek, eyes fluttering shut again.

It isn't meant to mean more than this. More than holding onto him as they float in the ocean together. It doesn't mean more. Not really. Except it does because she's connected to him now and she's not all that sure that she could let it be. Whether it's because she wants to make sure he's okay or something else, she doesn't know. She does want him to be okay, though. Maeve doesn't want him to go through it alone. He won't if she has anything to say about it. He draws her from her thoughts, bringing her back to now.

The fear slowly fades, ushered away by his hold on her and his gentle encouragement. Her throat constricts as she swallows thickly and her other arm wraps loosely around his shoulders in what mimics a lover's embrace without the commitment of one. "Sorry.. I guess it's going to take some time, huh?" She asks softly, finally drawing back with one more deep breath as she looks up at him.

These violent delights
Have violent ends