use your words

Ronin gets the fuck over a bridge. And onto a skyboat and all the way to Torchline to make a dock. Just to make a dock. Definitely not for any of that other shit that was contained in a certain letter sent to him. We'll stop lying now, and take us to the cliffs where the Wrenzaoks live; where Ronin has just arrived, after starting the initial work on the skyport. Honestly, he's really intending not to let his temper get the better of him, after all that's happened. But whether or not he gets that far is another matter entirely. Shrouded in moonlight and reaching out to knock at the door, Ronin takes a long, deep breath and lets it out again, stepping away to give Nate ample time to answer. If it's even Nate who's home. Either way, the distance from the doorway might at least dissuade Ronin from reacting with his fists rather than his etiquette. taliesin a long and lonesome road

NATE

Of course Nate is home. He has no where else to go, will not cède this minor sanctuary. Not while he still has it.

Historically, midnight calls haven’t been the best for them. For Sunjata, really. Maybe that’s why Nate is so quick to rush to the door, his footsteps silent through the sleeping house. The only hesitation is in the living room, when he searches for his husbands sleeping form, finding it nestled in with Haai.

It’s a relief, a small one, one that’s snatched away as soon as he opens the door to find tall dark and angry (he assumes) on his doorstep. Anger sparks bright on his face, Nate’s free hand moving to grab at a belt that isn’t there, for a pocket that isn’t there. He shouldn’t have rushed down so quickly, an irritated whistle leaving his lips as he focuses back on the Dark Star.

”Ronin.” He says by way of greeting, one hand still behind the door, like he hasn’t quite decided whether he wants to slam it. There’s a twist in his lips, a burning in his one blue eye, and a shudder in his jaw as he very carefully chooses his words. Word. ”What?”

What's the drive in being alive if you don't know where you are?
What's the fun in getting drunk if you can’t take it too far?

"Nate." Ronin is surprised to see the Ascended (the demigod, unbeknownst to him) answering the door, only ever seeing Sunjata in the house in truth. Then again, it's late, and given that only one half of the couple requires sleep, it isn't so surprising he supposes. What, though? The Dark Star scoffs, having to fill his lungs with air and exhale forcefully so as to stop the threats that want to leap off his tongue in reply. Instead he takes a second, he recalls the conversations had with his husband, and then he proceeds. With his words, Nate. "You said," he murmurs, "that if Remi ever hurt your family again, you would find a way to hurt him. A way that sticks." Ronin raises his eyebrows. To any looking at him, he's about as emotional as a marble statue. That says nothing, however, to the tempest that rages within. "Now, I can't stop Remi from doing what he's going to do. But given that he doesn't really care about physical pain, I'm keen to clarify what you meant. Because you said you aren't a monster, Nate. But I'm not sure any of us are in a position anymore to make that claim for ourselves." Ronin steps forward. "So tell me. What would you do to hurt my husband?" taliesin a long and lonesome road

NATE

Nate is many things, but stupid is not one of them. Ronin could destroy him without breaking a sweat, while Nate can’t even raise a fist to defend himself at the moment. He needs an edge. He needs Jack’s edge.

He hardly needs to think to tap into the stolen power, though he should have thought more before using it. All at once, Nate is drawn into a storm of protective anger, so intimate, so familiar that he sways a little, glad for the support of the door. And not only Ronins rage, but the distant, slumbering sorrow of Sunjata, all of it overwhelming in a way he was not prepared for. ”I-I did.” The words are distant, his voice shaking with the strain of keeping it steady.

”I don’t know.” The words grit out from between clenched teeth, Nate fighting to not let rage that isn’t his overtake him. To keep his gaze and his face as steady as he can. ”There’s nothing I can do to him, or to you. Can’t... dream murder, or... or invade your home under false pretences.” Leaning against the door, Nate swallows, and tries to steady himself with a breath. ”I guess I’d have to ask a higher power.”

What's the drive in being alive if you don't know where you are?
What's the fun in getting drunk if you can’t take it too far?

Ronin, of course, is not privy to the fact that Nate has just become intimately familiar with his anger or his thoughts, and so when he speaks it's with as much sharp eloquence as before. "I don't know isn't good enough," he says simply. "If you are going to make threats like going to a higher power about hurting my husband, then you can't in good conscience say that you wouldn't hurt my son. Because gods won't care about what you think makes you a monster." Inhaling a long and shaky breath, the Star tries hard to let his shoulders relax. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that last part. All I want to know is what I should be looking out for, should Remi decide to do something that breaks whatever rules you've just set for him. Because - and I know you know where I'm coming from here Nate - if you do hurt him in a way that sticks, I'll bring this house down on top of you. Mark my words." taliesin a long and lonesome road

NATE

It’s an echo chamber. It’s like staring into a mirror, except the mirror hates you. Except the mirror reaches out to pour itself down his throat until it’s all he is. All the anger, all the sharpness, none of the eloquence. ”Oh, believe me, I know exactly how little your gods care about any of us!” It sneers out of him before he can stop it. ”I wont’t be going to your gods though. I think that makes enough of a difference.” There are better arguments he could make, but his mind is scattered, useless.

”The last part? The part where you let a murderer into my home to torture my husband? Where you used his trust in you? That’s the part you’re not going to hear?” A hand comes up to press at his forehead, trying to focus himself, trying to separate what’s his anger and what’s Ronin’s anger. They feel so similar, but if he can get a reign on one, maybe he can pretend to go along with the pseudo peace they’re in.

There’s no answer for the question he’s been asked, no real plan for revenge, but there’s another twitching sneer as Nate’s hand drops back to his side. ”Thats the difference isn’t it? You can make good on a threat like that. I can’t. And if I try to get some justice, well you’ll be right there to tip things back into your favour, won’t you?” Snorting, Nate rolls his eyes. ”But I’m the bad guy here, right?”

What's the drive in being alive if you don't know where you are?
What's the fun in getting drunk if you can’t take it too far?

Ronin can only raise his eyebrows at that - at all of it, and when Nate's anger (or his own - he can't possibly know) lashes out like a whipcrack, if anything the Dark Star only grows colder. That isn't to say they are out of the woods - quite the opposite in fact - and cold can burn, as the Ascended before him is about to find out. Nate might be accustomed to feathers betraying fear or nerves, but that is not the case for Ronin's partial shift. Gold and crimson fan out along his shoulders and down his arms, cloaking him in fiery plumage, and there's a black and chilly sort of heat in his eyes. "Quite a proponent of life, for someone without a heartbeat," he remarks softly. "You talk about justice as if this situation was completely adrift without your wise and lofty input. But here's the thing." Ronin leans in, just a bit, just enough for the heat of the fire to roll off him. "You're right. So might I suggest you bleat and bemoan your situation to those you can fight. Don't poke lions and complain when you are bitten. It doesn't make you the bad guy - it just makes you pathetic." Ronin steps back, looking Nate up and down as if suddenly seeing a man much different to the one he has heard so much about, and scoffs out a breath. "Enjoy your evening, Nate." taliesin a long and lonesome road

NATE

Nate refuses to let himself be intimidated, refuses to back down from this lofty point of burning anger, even with the chilled rage wafting towards him, impossible to get away from. Even with the flaming plumage that spreads over Ronin’s shoulders, a calculated threat against him, one that has the ascendeds face twisting.

”Oh so that’s it.” Rage burns just a touch hotter than fear, even as Ronin leans in close enough for Nate to feel the threat rolling off the other. ”You and yours can walk around doing whatever the fuck you want, because no one can hold you accountable. Must be nice to sit on the top of that mountain and sneer down at the rest of us. Fuck us, right?” A humourless laugh coughs out from the sneer on his face, Nate’s eyes rolling so hard his head moves with them.

”Fuck you!” The scream tears from him loud enough to wake the house, and if he had somehow managed to not disturb everything and everyone in a mile radius, the way he slams the door hard enough that the glass in it shatters will take care of that. A hate-filled stare watches Ronin’s back, Nate intent on not looking away until this intruder is far out of sight.

Fin~

What's the drive in being alive if you don't know where you are?
What's the fun in getting drunk if you can’t take it too far?