the way we say goodbye

i closed my eyes and saw my father's sins, they covered me like a second skin
i peeled them off, and sure i bled a bit, but now i'm free to sink my own damn ship

One thing Sunjata learns quickly, is that it’s tough in the Port during the monsoons to try and find anything close to what he seeks. He’s gotten the sitter again to watch after Kamaria, had collected a few things to fight against the storm to get to the port and whatever shops remain open. A dragon descends, a dragon turns to a man, barreled by the wind, and after ducking into a few of the shops, he ends up here.

At least it’s still open.

He tries to get as much water off of himself before stepping into it, heading straight for the merchant without looking around. Pleasantries are extended before Sunjata’s asking about any sort of blanket selection they might have, one that could hopefully work for a child. Something soft and small and easily bunched up. A child could never have too many blankets, after all.

A bit of bartering and jesting, before he’s waiting as the merchant slips into the back of his shop, trying to find what pieces remained from before everyone had taken off from the storm.

i cut my branch down from my family tree to start a fire in the living room

SUNJATA

Phoebe Steadman I've dropped out, burned up Fought my way back from the dead Phoebe had forgotten just how truly disgusting monsoon season was. She and Harper hadn't managed to get their act together in time to leave the now waterlogged paradise. So she was doing her best to help at the Halenani...which was not nearly as prepared as she had hoped it would be. Thankfully the inn had been well fortified and the keeper kind enough to let them continue to stay in their room. The midwife hadn't wanted to take up space in the brothel when it could be better used to serve paying customers. And that was how she had found herself hurrying through the rainstorms, doing her best to find the things she needed to help fortify the weakening structure of the brothel. After a few stops she was pointed to one shop in particular...which was how she wound up darting into the same store as Jata just moments after the shopkeep stepped into the back. Of course, she didn't notice him at first. Phoebe was too busy trying to wring water from her hair and clothes, drenched to the bone.

i closed my eyes and saw my father's sins, they covered me like a second skin
i peeled them off, and sure i bled a bit, but now i'm free to sink my own damn ship

The bell rings to alert for another patron but Sunjata’s focused on waiting for the merchant to come back with the hope of there being some left over blankets in the back. Luckily for Sunjata and Phoebe it isn’t long, but the merchant returns with a few bundles of blankets, a bright grin on his face as he spies the next customer, setting the blankets on the counter before Sunjata before calling out a ‘oy, ‘ello miss Steadman!’ A phrase that has Sunjata stilling as he unfolds the blankets to see the quality of them.

He remains with his back to her for a bit longer than is likely good, before he’s standing up a bit taller from his hunched over position, turning halfway to let his steel gaze see if it actually was Phoebe or not. The realization hits and Sunjata swallows hard, returning to the blankets and picking the first one he sees. “This should do wonders.” He murmurs quietly to the merchant, before the merchant is protesting, forcing Sunjata to look through the rest of them despite how the Governor seems to leak awkwardness.

i cut my branch down from my family tree to start a fire in the living room

SUNJATA

Phoebe Steadman I've dropped out, burned up Fought my way back from the dead Phoebe didn't look up until she heard her name called, rather dismayed at the state of herself. Wet clothes were the worst. And of course, in that instant, she saw Sunjata looking back at her. The midwife froze in place, holding his gaze wide eyed until he turned away, murmuring to the shopkeep about whatever he had been brought. A lump welled up in her throat, finding herself at a loss for words as anxiety rose. She didn't want a fight. She really *truly* didn't want a fight. Phoebe wasn't sure she had the mental fortitude for it, having only just returned to Torchline, remade to suit Frey's purposes. So instead she focused on her business, honeyed gaze locking on the shopkeep as she managed a smile. "Hello, Hank. You know Phoebe is fine." she said with a light laugh as she approached the counter. Which meant standing next to Jata of course. Lovely. "I heard a rumor you might still have some support beams and brackets? The Halenani wasn't prepared as well as it was last year." she said.

i closed my eyes and saw my father's sins, they covered me like a second skin
i peeled them off, and sure i bled a bit, but now i'm free to sink my own damn ship

The merchant beams, nodding to Phoebe before dragging Sunjata through the fabrics, waiting for her to arrive to the counter to speak with him too. Sunjata idly flips through the blankets, wanting to bury his head into the sand, wanting nothing more than to leave before barbs can be thrown. Hank focuses on Phoebe as she arrives and when Phoebe stands beside Sunjata, she’ll find a whole set of new scars spanning his skin, most notably the half Glasgow smile that puckers up half of his cheek. ‘Mm, lemme check the back, Phoebe.’ Hank says with a playful wink, before a dead serious gaze drifts to Sunjata paired with a hand pointing his finger directly at the Governor.

‘An don’t you go nowhere, Flood. I’ll check if there’s more for you too.’ With the threat given, Sunjata nods quietly while Hank busies himself in the back. He sighs, flickering through the blankets. “Hello Phoebe.” He says quietly, tentatively, prodding without looking at her. His awkwardness continues to leak from him like a faucet, busying himself with the blankets.

i cut my branch down from my family tree to start a fire in the living room

SUNJATA

Phoebe Steadman I've dropped out, burned up Fought my way back from the dead Phoebe only dared glance at him from the corner of her eye. The scars should have shocked her...but given the man in question she could only internally sigh. Of course he was littered with more scars than healthy skin. The man ran at the god of death arms wide open, only to have him laugh and say, "Not today." She was more surprised by her own reaction. Such recklessness used to make her blood boil. But now, all she could muster was pity. Despite his angst and fire and attitude, he really was nothing more than a pale shadow of the man he could have been, brought to ruin by his own hand delusioned with unnecessary guilt. Briefly she wondered if this new lens was brought about by Frey's influence. Guilt was a human emotion that accomplished little after all. When Hank stepped to the back, she focused her gaze on the counter before her. The cracks in the wood, the areas that dipped from years of repeated wear and tear. And she would have been content to continue to stand there in silence, counting each individual line in the woodgrain to pass the time; but alas, Sunjata was not. For a moment, she hesitated. Perhaps she could just pretend she didn't hear him. But her conscience got the better of her. "Hello, Sunjata." she said quietly, with equal stiffness in her tone. Frey could come and whisk her out of this deathly awkward situation any time now. Any ole' time. Pretty please?

i closed my eyes and saw my father's sins, they covered me like a second skin
i peeled them off, and sure i bled a bit, but now i'm free to sink my own damn ship

Hank remains in the back and Sunjata wishes that he’d hurry up. It’s awkward enough as is, let alone being trapped here with Phoebe. And with everything that has gone on in Torchline, he doesn’t dare try to offend. So he remains, shifting the blankets so he can peer at the bottom one. It’s certainly a child style of blanket, soft to the touch with silk on all edges. “I had heard you left for some time during the Climb Fever. People were worried.” He pauses, running a lightning scarred hand along the fabric. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He doesn’t ask what she’s done, never intentionally aiming to press her buttons. He’s glad she’s okay, wherever she had gone and whatever she had done, and that is where he leaves it. Silence extends for a few seconds longer before Hank’s arriving back with a bag full of brackets in one hand and a quizzical look on his face as he goes to set the bags directly next to the blankets. ‘Miss Phoebe, here’s some’ve those brackets yer lookin’ for. How many of the support beams are you thinkin’?’ He asks, before pausing and turning back to Sunjata.

‘O, and I got a couple’ve more blankets. They’re just a little small. How big are ya needin’?’ Sunjata inwardly grimaces as he picks out the answer. “How small? She’s… About five. Somewhat taller than most, given… you know.” His attempts are in vain to keep it quiet as the merchant nods. ‘You’re tall yourself, it ain’t surprisin’ she’s tall too.’ He tips a wink toward the Flood, not reading the room as he grins to Phoebe. ‘Our Gov’ner got himself a daughter. From Safrin, of all people!’ He chimes a pleased laugh, before departing into the back again.

Sunjata stands a bit taller, taking a moment to stare at the ceiling with a huff of awkward silence.

i cut my branch down from my family tree to start a fire in the living room

SUNJATA

Phoebe Steadman I've dropped out, burned up Fought my way back from the dead Her eyes remained on the counter as Sunjata did his best to make small talk that clearly neither of them wanted. But social cues were rarely his specialty. "Thanks." she said quietly, not really sure how to take that last part. Glad she was okay? Since when had he gotten so bad at lying? "I didn't have the fever though. Frey took me and made me a demigod." she said quickly. normally she would not have been so blunt. But the midwife hoped beyond hope that it would surprise him enough to keep him from saying more. Really, neither of them wanted to chit chat anyways. They could much more easily suffer in silence until one of them could leave than try to keep up pleasantries. If their past held true, it would only devolve into an argument after all - a pattern she had almost as much confidence in as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. Thankfully it wasn't long after that Hank returned. "Five or six, ideally. It is probably going to take a few trips." she admitted with a small smile. And hopefully that would be enough to keep the northernmost wall from collapsing in on itself. Really, what had Maeve been thinking, putting off prepping the brothel for so long? Though she did have a lot on her plate, having the business suddenly dropped in her lap. But her mind was torn back to the present as her ears picked up on Hank and Sunjata's conversation. Her face paled, eyes widening slightly. Sunjata...had a child? The notion didn't compute in her mind, bringing it to a dead halt. Only once Hank addressed her and she was force to put on a small smile for the merchant's sake did her brain start racing again. Conversations, disagreements, old hurts, futures that could have been but snuffed out far too quickly by the blight... Again she dropped her gaze, realizing her fingers gripped the edge of the counter until her knuckles went white. The Nightingale swallowed a lump of emotion in her throat, forcing herself to keep tears from rising as she struck once again by the unfairness of life. He had a child - a child! - the one thing she had yearned for since she could remember and twice over lost. A child he had insisted he never wanted, his relief at the one they had lost now replaced with another he had not been so lucky to avoid. And now here he stood, father of a demigod, buying her blankets with all the pretenses of a loving, doting father. "Congratulations." she finally managed in a tight voice. Still she didn't look at him, wet clumps of hair obscuring her face as she tried to reconcile what she had been told.

i closed my eyes and saw my father's sins, they covered me like a second skin
i peeled them off, and sure i bled a bit, but now i'm free to sink my own damn ship

Only, he hadn’t been lying when he said he was glad she was okay. Despite the marriage and everything else, Sunjata had never wanted Phoebe hurt. But he knows better than to say anything of the sort, knowing she believed her truths just as much as he believed his own. So he nods as he flits through the blankets, hearing her mention so casually as if it were something as easy as the change in weather, that she’d become a demigod for Frey.

“Congrats.” He rumbles, trying to wrap his mind about just how many demigods there were now running around. Just how many he’d become close to that had changed and yet he still remained the same. Not that he’s complaining about it, of course, he nearly feels as though he’s become close enough to it without the responsibility, what with Safrin’s name etched into his ribs.

Hank returns for a split second and Sunjata finds himself staring at the ceiling if only to avoid Phoebe’s white knuckles, the promises he’d given her, the arguments they had over this specific thing, the child they’d almost had if it weren’t for the blight. He draws in a deep breath as she says her congratulations. He knows she doesn’t mean it. And all he can muster up instead is evident in the way he picks one of the blankets out. “I’m sorry.” He’s been saying it so much as of late, but he feels the need to say it here.

Hank returns with another couple of blankets and a few other trinkets, starry and bright, perfect for a little girl, that Sunjata tries to occupy his time with perusing them as he finds a hat among the midst. ‘It’s gonna take some time Miss Phoebe. Gotta haul ‘em into the cart. We can deliver them for ya. The Halenani, y’said?’ He says, awaiting a response and still unable to read the room as his gaze swings to Sunjata. ‘Oy, my ol’ woman said she wanted to give y’this for her. Said that all lil blonde girls love t’have crowns ‘n hats.’ Sunjata nods idly, quietly. “Thank you.” He tells Hank, still refusing to look at Phoebe.

Outside the wind rails against the shop, bringing torrential rain along with it. It seems that even if they wanted to leave or not, they weren’t going to be able to. So Hank, in his wide bit of surprise, pops back into the back to produce a couple mugs of cocoa, warm and steaming that he offers to the two of them. ‘Have y’two met before?’ He asks, suddenly finding the room a bit awkward but thinking nothing much more than that about it.

i cut my branch down from my family tree to start a fire in the living room

SUNJATA

Phoebe Steadman I've dropped out, burned up Fought my way back from the dead Phoebe said nothing to his congratulations, nor to his apology. Both were hollow and meaningless, just like everything that came out of Jata's mouth. His platitudes helped nothing, changed nothing, were worth nothing. Instead she focused on controlling her own emotions. Frey had once said that how she felt was all the mattered... but she wasn't sure it was so simple. Because here, faced with this reality, what she felt didn't matter. It didn't fix anything and only served to make her miserable. Was that a power she wanted to place in his hands again? No. And so she wouldn't, if by sheer stubbornness alone. "Yes, the Halenani. Thank you, Hank." she said with a smile, her usual perkiness returning. By force, sure, but it was convincing enough. And when he brought her a drink while she waited out the storm in what was still awkward silence with Jata, she thanked him quietly again. But of course, he had been bound to notice eventually. As the question dropped, it was all she could do not to sigh. "Jata and I were married briefly and divorced quickly thereafter." she said, biting her tongue when a snotty quip tried to work its way up.

i closed my eyes and saw my father's sins, they covered me like a second skin
i peeled them off, and sure i bled a bit, but now i'm free to sink my own damn ship

Phoebe’s chipperness to cover everything else stills him. It does in the very same way that Nate had stilled Sunjata when he’d perfectly lied — if it hadn’t been the blood ring connecting them, Sunjata would’ve never known. For now, however, he takes the cocoa that’s offered from Hank, nodding his thanks. He lifts the mug to his lips, taking a sip as Hank drops the question of if they know one another, and with Phoebe’s quick response, he nearly chokes on the sip he’s taken. “It was back in the Grounds.” He steals a glance over toward Phoebe curiously before he’s looking back at Hank.

“We divorced shortly after the Portal to Torchline opened.” He adds for context, sure now that the merchant knows, everyone else would find out sooner or later. So he sets the mug down, listening as Hank’s surprise overtakes him. ‘Oh well look’it that!’ The merchant says with a hint of confusion and wonder and perhaps a bit sorrow. ‘Now don’t take this th’wrong way Gov’nor, but what’d some speck’a sunshine like you, Miss Phoebe, see in somebody like ‘im?’ He asks, curious and not at all abated by the fact they divorced. Hanks arm cuts out to pat at the starry tattoos covering Sunjata’s arm. ‘Yer a bit dark ‘n broody, ‘n somethin’s always happenin’ to ya.’ A gasp hits him as he grins to Phoebe. ‘Oy! Was it that? The broodin’?’

Sunjata flushes his awkwardness now, thankful for the jacket he wears to keep the feathers from appearing too much. But he stays silent, allowing Phoebe the time to tear him down if she wanted. After all, the rain continues to pound outside. It isn’t like he’d be better off getting out of this situation only to drown himself outside when at least he could be warm and somewhat dry in here.

i cut my branch down from my family tree to start a fire in the living room

SUNJATA

Phoebe Steadman I've dropped out, burned up Fought my way back from the dead Phoebe allowed herself to find a small bit a amusement in what she assumed was embarrassment on his part. How awful for him, to have this little speck'o'sunshine tarnishing his perfectly shadey reputation. But she didn't let it show on her face, instead focusing on her cocoa or the water against the window panes or the cobwebs in the corner or literally anything else. Of course the truth wasn't enough for Hank. He wanted all the details. And so with a small sigh, she looked at Jata. It would he easy enough to come up with a myriad of very nasty things to say. With Hank's perception of them both, she could make Jata into a monster without much effort at all. But...she knew it wouldn't be truthful. It would only stoke the fires of old angry flames. And surely, the Phoebe who would have lived for the chance to so publicly demean him had been buried with the chrysalis from which she emerged. "He was charming. Protective. Fun." she said, looking at Frank with a small smile. "You should know people are much more complicated than they appear Hank. Sunjata just wasn't ready to accept that someone could see past the broodiness. And I was...young and stupid and needy. With plenty of things happening to me at the time." she added with a small shrug.

i closed my eyes and saw my father's sins, they covered me like a second skin
i peeled them off, and sure i bled a bit, but now i'm free to sink my own damn ship

He waits for the ball to drop just as much as Hank appears to drool over the possibility of gossip. And they both don’t get what they expect. Phoebe’s words leave her lips and Sunjata’s head finally turns to regard her, brows pinched slightly in surprise. Even Hank seems surprised by this, his head tilting to Sunjata as the Flood regards Phoebe carefully, a dark steel gaze nearly like a wounded animal before he blinks and it’s gone.

“You weren’t stupid or needy, Phoebe.” He says quietly as his attention flickers back to the mug. “You… Wanted a future I wasn’t ready for. That’s not stupid.” He lifts the mug to his lips, taking a long sip from it before he’s peering at Hank. “She was one of the first people I saw when I got to the Grounds.” He pauses, looking over to Phoebe as a small smile blooms on his face. “I was swimming in the Oasis and she thought I fell in. I convinced her to join me, by the end of it. But she didn’t have a swimsuit. She wore my shirt, instead, after so much more convincing.” Back when things had been simple, even if Sunjata couldn’t open up then like he does now. “I remember how surprised you were by the audacity of me asking you such a thing.” Here, a soft laugh leaves him as he shakes his head.

“But you agreed and I was sure Pim was going to devour me whole when you finally stepped in.” Hank, to his credit, hangs onto this story with awe while the sounds of people in the back room haul wood into a cart.

i cut my branch down from my family tree to start a fire in the living room

SUNJATA

Phoebe Steadman I've dropped out, burned up Fought my way back from the dead Phoebe was surprised to hear such kind words coming from Sunjata. But instead of being a balm on her heart it felt hollow. A little too little too late in away. What had been there was not only gone, but she couldn't even muster the energy to care. And yet, despite her own inner lack of turmoil, it was easy to see in the intensity of his stare that the Governor still hung on to each word she said, searching for some meaning in them. Which she supposed was a satisfying feeling. "But that was all a long time ago." she said with a slight sigh. It had been a wonderful day at the Oasis, a memory she couldn't help but recall fondly. But in the end, it had led to a great series of mistakes that had nearly killed her. "And besides, it seems you have that future I wanted now. Strange how the world works, hm?" she said, not curtly or with any venom, but with a straight forward, no nonsense tone. Despite how much he had protested it, here he was, buying blankets for a child he had fathered, and here she was, feeling further away from her personal dreams of family and motherhood than ever before. His words couldn't soothe the sting of that reality. And so she turned slightly, staring out the front window into the downpour. The Nightingale had no interest in continuing to dwell on the past, only to fume over the unfairness of life.