don't you shy away

VARUS

The Portal is a whole other world in and of itself. It had taken some time to get used to slipping out of the underside of the Spire, of realizing exactly what it was, letting it unlock his memory of what it had been like before. But he’s sure the Voice has simply managed to perfect her work in all the time since he could recall any of it. And some of his memory? Simply a block. Something he can’t get into.

He hopes it comes with time.

But it’s to the snows that Varus emerges, the vast land of Halo which has only become icier from what he remembers. He still doesn’t feel the chill of it, thankfully, nor does he feel the weight of exhaustion as he takes the trail toward some place vaguely familiar. It’s to Snowcloak he goes, scanning around the small city for anything that might spark more of those memories.

And in truth? He finds nothing, yet again.

So he pauses, by an unfamiliar door, pulling out a book to open with the only hand he has, scanning it for the things he does remember, and glancing up at the names on the underside of the buildings to designate which goes to which.

And again?

Nothing.

stories without a few let downs are boring when told
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds

I could take all that you love
We could get down fading numb

The path to the salon is freshly cleared by way of her and Deimos' efforts, which makes hauling supplies back so much easier. She has been slowly making one of the back rooms a bedroom for herself, though she still spends many nights in Deimos' spare room. But she can't live with waking up in the middle of the night, tears already fresh on her cheeks, trying to choke down her noises lest she wake her best friend with a grief he cannot understand. Empathize with, perhaps, in the same way he has lost Amalia; but he'd never approved of Sunjata or Nate. She is tired, that much is undeniable. Sleeping more during the day - snatches and fitful naps on the massage tables or curled in one of the fireplace chairs - than any long stretch at night. The beds are too cold, too large, even smaller as they are than the one she'd once called theirs in Torchline.

Atlas walks beside her, silent and supportive, carrying the wares in his saddle bags which we wears with no actual saddle overtop it. Despite his ever-growing size, Hotaru does not ride him much; he is her equal, more than just her mount, though it is a familiar argument between the two of them.

They notice their visitor at the same time, Atlas' ears easing backwards into his dark windswept mane and Hotaru's fair brows crinkling. She hadn't had anyone on the books today. She's sure of it. Had even double checked before she'd left for the city. Though Atlas postures at her side, horn gleaming dark, Hotaru shoos him away as soon as she has pulled the bags off his back. Snorting, the unicorn abides, but not without a wary glance towards the stranger. Hotaru does no such thing, coming up with her vixen smile firmly in place. "Hello there, care to come in? I have no clients today if you're looking for services, but I also have tea and a fireplace if you're in need of that instead." Because he certainly looks lost.

Gasoline kiss on my lips
Tell yourself you know it's me

VARUS

The second a sound is heard, he snaps the book shut. A quick glance is given over his shoulder as she arrives in a flurry of vixen smiles and offering warmth and a place to stay for at least a little. It’s a kind gesture, really, but one that he’d get no benefit from. He wouldn’t get any benefits from the warmth of a fireplace, nothing from tea, nothing but idle chatter unless she could help him with that and figuring out what the fuck had all changed.

He supposes that’s if she has any idea herself.

So he flashes her a charming grin, one that’s fanged and bright – matching her vixen smile – because two can absolutely play at that game. A quick glance is given to the door he stands before, realizing it’s a spa of sorts – and he quirks his head back to her with that same grin. “Ah, I’m afraid I don’t get much out of spas these days.” Varus offers with a soft chuckle. “Or tea.” There’s a look of consideration that hits him before it’s gone in an instant.

“I gotta say, though, it’s my first time in Halo in a long fucking time. Don’t suppose you could use that time to help me fill in some blanks?” His head tilts with the offer, lips curling in a feline grin. Worth a shot, anyway.

stories without a few let downs are boring when told
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds

I could take all that you love
We could get down fading numb

Normal as fangs used to be in her life, for a moment she overlooks them in his smirking mouth. When they register all the same, Hotaru huffs a laugh, tucking an errant strand of golden hair back behind her hear from where the wind had tugged it free of her fur-lined hood. It truly is a shame that her spa is useless to the Ascended as a whole, and while it's not in her power to change that it feels like a challenge to undertake all the same. "There can be comfort in old habits," is her rebuttal, though her expression is warm and teasing. Whether the motions of holding and drinking from a cup will bring him any peace is up to him.

Instead of directly answering him, Hotaru shamelessly sidles up to pass by him, the arm of her coat brushing against him as she goes to unlock the door and step halfway inside. Only then throwing back her hood and pulling out her long hair, gesturing him inside with a playful wiggle of her fingers. "Conversation with a handsome, mysterious stranger? What a burden." Stepping all the way inside, she waits for him to cross the threshold before closing the door and divesting her coat to hang on the rack in the entryway. As always, her chest aches as she toes off her shoes, recalling Nate's rules back home - no, not home, not anymore - and she turns away towards the fireplace as if keeping the shoe rack itself out of sight is the key to ignoring her pain.

Even from a distance, her lightning is masterfully controlled enough to light the fire, and with a snap of her fingers to generate the spark of static Hotaru sends an arc of it towards the wood in the basin, setting it ablaze in an instant. So she likes to show off a little, sue her. "Pick a seat," she insists with a catlike smile curling the edges of her wind-reddened lips. "You can start asking your questions while I make some tea." Regardless of whether he wants any himself, Hotaru habitually unwinds with it herself, and if she's going to be doing a lot of talking she'd prefer a little natural lubrication. For her voice, of course.

Gasoline kiss on my lips
Tell yourself you know it's me

VARUS

“That there can be.” Varus offers with a huff of a laugh, but watches her nonetheless, waiting to see if his request is accepted. Despite not getting anything out of tea or warmth from a fireplace, he decides quickly that the idea of it might be worth more credit than he’s giving it. But she’s sliding past him, her arm brushing against his only one, and he regards her curiously as she passes, tucking the book away in his gloved hand as she opens the door and gestures for him to step in.

And after flattery like that? He’d be a fool to not agree to go with her.

He follows her lead, kicking off snowy boots and removing the fur jacket around him to reveal the deep red shirt beneath it, short sleeved where only one arm is still attached. The other sleeve waves a bit uselessly with his movements.

He does as she says, scanning the room out of habit and picking a seat that has a view of the exits, with his back to the wall — every ounce the soldier he was created to be. “Neat trick. Are you Acquired?” He asks, unknowingly dating himself with the term used for Abandoned, but lets it slip regardless as he lets his bright blue gaze land back on her. “Questions… Right. Well,” he pauses to pull the book out, propping it against his thigh as he opens it with his only hand, “I’ve heard a lot has changed up here since I was here last… I guess what’s happened recently in Halo?” A marker to start to see where they’re at.

stories without a few let downs are boring when told
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds

I could take all that you love
We could get down fading numb

His curiosity is not obscured, but he can stare and ponder all he likes; Hotaru has never been particularly forthcoming about herself. It doesn’t seem to dissuade him from entering at least, the draft of the door closing only inspiring her all the more to restart the fire in the hearth. Though she is used to it, she seems to run cold these days when the sun sinks low; she doesn’t like to dwell on the reasoning behind that.

Her own curiosity becomes readily apparent at his missing arm, but he is not the first Hotaru has met with some sort of missing limb. It’s not as readily apparent in Caido, but some of her former lands it had been a conspicuous effect of war. Most of them had ended up on her massage table back then, and she’d learned the proper ways to maneuver around the topic. As such her eyes slide past it, not bothering to comment or question, but not avoiding the entire sight as if it would offend him. Focusing instead on his handsome face when the old word falls from his mouth, a pinch of her fair brows and slight tilt of her head revealing the way she studies him. “Quite the outdated term there I’m afraid. They call us Abandoned now. But yes, I am.” The word doesn’t sting; she’d had no choice in her designation when she’d arrived, and her chosen Herald does not care as much about such matters.

Once he has chosen his own seat, Hotaru gracefully folds into the one opposite. He may choose his for strategic reasons, but Hotaru knows her spa down to the wood grain; where she sits doesn’t matter for her. And though she may not be forthcoming about herself, Halo’s affairs are free game - though she is fond of these people, they are Morgan’s, not hers. “Leadership was under Neron Launcelyn for quite some time as I understand. It transferred hands briefly, but now our Warden is Morgan. It isn’t a haven for Ascended as the Grounds is, but it’s effectively the same; you’ll mostly find Ascended and Abandoned here.” Recalling Stormbreak and the woman she writes to there, Hotaru wonders what the other realms look like in terms of racial distribution. “The Warden has been making strides towards turning the Citadel into a more hospitable town; magical warmth through the winters, and a greenhouse now in the works. There’s very little stirring in Halo - where the chips will fall if war comes will have to be seen.” A shrug of her shoulders as she leans forward to pour her tea is her only physical clue as to what she thinks of the matter. Waiting to see if he has any more specific questions he’d like to steer the conversation toward.

Gasoline kiss on my lips
Tell yourself you know it's me

VARUS

“Ah, so that term actually stuck then.” His nose wrinkles in distaste, a sort of quiet frustration that he does add into the small notebook he keeps, if only to ask about it later. For now, though, she sits opposite of him and his bright blue gaze lifts to meet her pale face, to meet her dual toned gaze. She informs him of names he doesn’t know — should he be surprised? — and he writes them down into the notebook as well, mulling over the words with a hint more of confusion. “Launceleyn isn’t a name I recognize.” He offers her with a small, almost tight smile. But he moves past it quickly, tries to take that edge off where he’s content to sit there and brood.

But she mentions if war comes and Varus pauses to run his tongue along his teeth, before he’s leaning forward to brace his elbow on his knee, leaning toward her curiously. “Between you and me, sounds like it’s a for sure thing.” He pauses, sitting up a bit straighter. “I was in the last one. It’s a shame it couldn’t have been worked out before.” A small sigh leaves him, his hand moving to close the book.

“I’m Cal, by the way.” He murmurs, flashing a small fanged smirk her way. “When did you open this up?” He gestures to the spa, curiosity glimmering in his gaze.

stories without a few let downs are boring when told
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds

I could take all that you love
We could get down fading numb

"Unfortunately," she agrees lightly, amusement curling her pink lips despite the nature of her response. Hotaru has been met with little to no judgment on the matter admittedly; even her chosen deity does not much care for her designation. And those who spoke up against her nature? Well, they would find themselves on the wrong end of her lightning, and that would be that. "They were a ruling family for a time. Held quite a terrible grip of the Grounds, too. They are mostly dead or scattered these days." A roll of her wrist, dismissing the idea out of hand with an air that could almost be described as apathetic. For all she misses Loren at times, the rest could rot for all she cared.

Perhaps laughter is not the appropriate reaction to talk of war, but it is what the stranger receives. "Oh, I don't doubt it is. Until one is destroyed, neither side will cease trying." To Hotaru, that is merely the way the world works. Fight and fight and fight until you are left triumphantly standing overtop your enemy's felled form. She has orchestrated enough of her own wars, not to mention those of Gods who seek to make them soldiers. What is one more to the list? Though he reveals his hand when he notes his involvement in the first war - Hotaru is too sharp to let such a comment go without investigation. "Ah, so you must be one of The Voice's original Ascended. How old does that make you?" Nothing more to be found to her tone than genuine curiosity.

His smirk causes a line of heat to run up her spine, but whether that's due to his own attractiveness or the echo of Nate's grin in the space of his mouth is beyond her. It does at least remind her of her manners. "I'm Hotaru, you can call me Ru," she expounds with a smirk of her own, extending the nickname like a bared wrist, an offering. Her own gaze follows his, searching the structure she has made her own. "Hm, a year now I believe? Where I came from, I ruled a kingdom with an environment almost identical to Halo, but we had natural hot springs not found here. I created this as the first phase to that ultimate goal."

Gasoline kiss on my lips
Tell yourself you know it's me

VARUS

She agrees with him on the term – truthfully, Varus has never had an issue with Abandoned, never once in his life. No blame to befall them, not like what had happened after his stasis and shut down, not like everyone else stuck in the Grounds. Speaking of which, when she mentions that the Launceleyns held the Grounds for a bit, his nose wrinkles in a hint of distaste. “Good.” Varus mutters, leaning back in his chair to raise his brows at the sudden laughter over talk of war that arises from the stunning blonde across from him.

“True.” He offers with a quiet laugh to accompany her own, shaking his head as if it might show just how exhausted he was by it all – let alone to come back and be right smack at the start again. As if he hasn’t already had to deal with the first battles of war.

She’s sharp and quick, though, the question aired in such a way that Varus tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling, as if he might find the answers in there. “Mm, well. Three hundred and forty-two.” His head lowers, a dark brow raising toward her, wondering how she’ll take it. He’s told people he’s a few centuries old by now, but not down to the specific year. He wonders if the real number brings about a different reaction.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ru.” He offers, her nickname rolling off his tongue with ease as that smirk falls back into place, before he’s looking around the establishment, until his eyes land on Hotaru again. “Did you?” His gaze brightens with a fraction of curiosity shining through his exterior. “I always thought Halo could use a few spaces to be… Warmer, of course.” Not like it matters now, but before, when it had? He’d shivered his ass off far too many times here.

“And how has business treated you?” He asks, curiosity getting the better of him. Was it a good endeavor for her? Was it all she had hoped it would be?

stories without a few let downs are boring when told
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds

I could take all that you love
We could get down fading numb

His agreement is not unprecedented even with what little she knows of him, but her appraising multi-hued gaze settles on him unblinking all the same for a moment. "I won't be so presumptuous as to offer my condolences, but I will say it's quite shitty luck to have returned here in due time for a second showdown." Such crassness does not seem to become a woman as refined as her, but Hotaru is a creature of multitudes, and thrives on doing the unexpected. Plus, it is not as if she is being untruthful - a rarity, really.

His answer garners a slow rising of her blonde brows, taking a moment to sip her tea and chase a droplet across the rim of her cup with her tongue as she considers the answer fairly. "I'm not surprised so much as curious. It's hard to envision the gravity of so many years when the rest of us are afforded less than one third if we are lucky." The rest doesn't matter to her. His age is merely another facet of his being and his potential usefulness, and as such she is likely not the best to gauge a response from.

"I could make it nicer," she flirts boldly, the heat of the tea turning her lips red as she smirks at him from where she sits. Though Hotaru is not so easily distracted and moves easily into the next topic. "After spending so much of my life in the cold, I don't have the same longing for warmth, but I feel hot springs are allowed the be the exception with how delightful they are." A small trickle of laughter leaves her even as she sets her teacup on the table at her side, idly crossing her legs and humming in consideration of his next question. "Quite well. It took some time to convince people to try it out - Halovians are not the type to vacation or let strangers touch them - but word of mouth moved quite fast. Soldiers, hunters, shop workers...I have quite the steady flow of newcomers and familiars alike now." And yet she still feels so empty. For all she can touch them, it is an experience that is never returned. Ironic then that he calls this place warm, because Hotaru has never felt colder these days.

Gasoline kiss on my lips
Tell yourself you know it's me

VARUS

Her comment of his shitty luck does spark a hum of a laugh from him, something that brightens his smile, showing off bright teeth and sharp fangs. “Yeah, never quite had the best luck.” He shrugs, the best he can with one arm. If nothing else, he was at least alive and that had to count for something, didn’t it?

The comment of a few years has him mulling it over, considering her with a bit sharper of a gaze – similar to her own that she regards him with. “If it helps, I was shut down for three hundred and twelve of them.” A dark brow raises as if to challenge it. He’d been shut off, shut down and stuck under a hedge within King’s End before he’d woken up surprised, confused, bewildered at how much everything had changed and grown. “I was only Ascended for… Fuck, four or five years before I fell in the King’s End fight.” He offers this information easily, because it wasn’t like it could be used against him.

Everyone that knew him back then, aside from Aamu who was definitely on his side, were dead now. So what did it matter?

Dark brows raise in both amusement and surprise at her bluntness, the flirtation aired and receiving a brighter smirk. “That so, huh?” He interjects before she’s moving on about the hotsprings and Halovians and how hardworking they were, how much they were stuck in their own traditions. He remembers the Grounds much like that, too, but things had changed so drastically then that it was hard to imagine it had taken place in the first place. “They’ll come around.” He assures her.

They always did.

But he regards her with a bit more interest, a bit more amusement. “Got experience with Ascendeds? Or are they a bit more out of your wheelhouse?” He asks, pausing as he leans back into his seat, chin tilting up a fraction. “If you need any practice, I could be your guinea pig.” He offers as easily as if he’s discussing the weather, though his bright blue gaze remains on her with ease.

stories without a few let downs are boring when told
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds

I could take all that you love
We could get down fading numb

"I wonder then if being unaware for so long used up all your given luck," is her rebuttal, eyes gleaming in the firelight as she smirks, closed-lipped and foxlike in comparison to his own bared fangs and curled corners. "Being awake but stuck for over three hundred years would likely be torturous on the mind, even with The Voice's modifications. You'd hate to hear your own voice." A lighthearted end to a darker proposition, envisioning him talking to himself for years on end - incapable of going hoarse, unable to even sleep. Hotaru can envision no grander torture.

His surprise is sweeter than the sugar in her tea, and Hotaru simpers at him, aiming a feigned look of innocence his way. "Why, do you doubt me? You wound me, Cal." Tongue curling around the syllable of his name with a lilting, purring quality. Happy to be brief in her flirtations, darting here and there between their conversation instead of derailing it entirely. Though his assurances are unnecessary, they are sweet, and a small part of her softens at it, which makes his next question all the more painful with the slight weakening of her guard.

Of course, Hotaru is blessed to be an impeccable actress, and the only sign of her grief is a slight stiffening of her smile that quickly bleeds away into a flirtatious expression in less than the blink of an eye. "I don't consider anything to be out of my wheelhouse handsome," she purrs, brushing her hair back to reveal the silvery bitemark scars on her throat, usually concealed in the paleness of her skin but drawn out by the flickering nature of the firelight. Her fingertips ghost over them, and the reminder makes her shiver plainly. "I find I can make you feel if I use my magic a certain way," she murmurs, peering at him from half-lidded eyes as she pulls her fingers away from her throat and lets sparks dance along the length of them. "A bit more interesting than a simple bite, hm?" Not that the bite itself is understated in any way with how it lets Ascended feel for that brief moment.

Gasoline kiss on my lips
Tell yourself you know it's me

VARUS

“Mmm…” A low rumble leaves him, a shrug of his shoulders as she comments about going insane mentally. Luckily, Varus doesn’t recall that. Either he’d shut down too far to think or he’d blocked it all out. Either way, perhaps that’s where his luck had gone — not having to deal with his own mind over the centuries he’s been gone, wondering why he can’t move, why nothing has changed other than a quiet, dreadful, stormy black. “Suppose I did.”

A feigned look is shot his way in response to his surprise, a hum of a laugh leaving him as he hears her purring tones, as her voice lingers and pulls on his name and he smirks lightly in response to it. He does see the way her smile stiffens for the moment, but she doesn’t elaborate fully, and he doesn’t know her well enough to ask. So instead, he focuses on the way it shifts back to something playful, something cat like and coy.

His eyes dip to the silvery scars along her neck and his head dips a fraction in understanding as well as curiosity as she continues, her half lidded gaze, her shudder that runs down his spine, and he realizes it’s been quite some time since he’s had a bite from someone with blood (Wessex, not counting, given that it was a fluid reup despite how fucking good it felt). She promises something else, the electricity that sparks along her skin and Varus finds himself leaning forward on his one elbow, intrigued and curious despite it all.

“How interesting.” He hums, regarding her a bit more interested now, wondering what it might be like to have that spark of electricity sore through his veins paired with a bite, let alone just on its own. His lips curl in a playful smile, and he folds the book and tucks it away. “Well, I haven’t felt much at all in the last few centuries. What’s it cost?” He asks, head cocking to the side.

stories without a few let downs are boring when told
perfection and poems are a lie when it all unfolds

I could take all that you love
We could get down fading numb

His laughter is soothing and enticing all in one. It sounds so different to Nate and Sunjata's tones of amusement, and she clings to it like a lifeline. This is a mistake, her mind whispers to her. This won't fix how you feel. But Hotaru ignores that voice staunchly. She already knows it won't heal her, but it will distract her for a moment, and that's all she can hope for right now. Just a few moments of peaceful nothingness in her head. He's nothing more than a key to her own escape from grief, and frankly Hotaru is not a good enough person to care that she intends to use him for the night and throw him away. All it will take is convincing him, but even the low-level interest she can read off him is enough to work with.

"A bite," is her smooth, purring answer as she lets electricity dance across her fingertips as they sway and lead the sparks throughout. "No strings or attachments of course, and you can have my lightning as an additional gift. Letting me try my skill on you, broadening my services as a business owner? That is payment enough for me." With the increasing amount of Ascended in Halo, Hotaru wants to be able to offer them something they can actually feel. And if she can feel something herself tonight as payment? That will be enough to keep her going a few days more.

Gasoline kiss on my lips
Tell yourself you know it's me