a bit of salt, a bit of lemon

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

"S'just how it goes," he agrees with a gentle smile that's still a bit lopsided, but he is nonetheless empathetic. And as Sunjata folds in on himself, Ronin scoots across the sand as if to wrap an arm around him, giving him a squeeze. "You dunno that Jata," he says, not that he can offer much more than drunken platitudes. "It hasn't always been shitty for you, right? There've been good times too." With a huff, he sits up a bit and musses at his hair, unsure quite when it got so long.

"I wish I could say somethin' to help with that one. You guys... you are on different sides of this. And all I can say is m'sorry for that." Rubbing at his forehead, Ronin shrugs helplessly. "You can work it out, though. I believe in you." As if it means anything in the face of the starcrossed love between Nate and Sunjata.

THE DARK STAR

and continue fighting

better get to diggin' while my body's getting cold.
i keep tryna fight it so just promise when i go, you'll bury me low

“Obviously there’s been some good.” He mumbles, shutting his eyes as Ronin ruffles his hair, working his jaw as the bottle hangs from his hand from the arms wrapped around his knees. “But it’s good for a second ‘fore it falls apart again ‘n when things are good I can’t enjoy ‘em ‘cause I know it’s just gonna end soon.” Better to prepare for the heartache than to be blindsided, right?

Except Sunjata’s quite good at getting hit with both. Preparing, only to have the preparation mean nothing.

“I dunno how to work it out, Ronin. The only reason I’ve got my daughter is ‘cause I was tryin’ to work it out. And now I don’t even know if that’s possible.” Not to be misconstrued with him regretting his child. He doesn’t. “’m sorry y’gotta feel what Nate did when I came home ‘n told him about her.” It’s a whisper above the tide, but he hopes that Ronin knows he means every second of it.

And there's a second of pause before his brows are pinching together and he's burying his face into his knees. "I had my happy family. Nate loves Ria and Ria adores Nate. At least... Did, 'til Safrin told her about the Voice and how apparently dangerous Nate is to her."

SUNJATA

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

Ronin's lips part before he thinks better of saying anything, offering only another squeeze to Sunjata's shoulders. In recent conversation Remi had called the Flood sulky, but to look upon him here and now, he seems more than ever like a child with nothing, trying to make sense of a world that keeps striking him down. And then he makes the comparison, between himself and Nate, and though the Star attempts to laugh it off, his own eyes are stinging as he shrugs.

"It sucks, yeah," he mumbles. "Sorry to hear about what happened with Safrin. It's... fuck, Jata. Anythin' I try to say to you isn't really gonna scratch the surface, is it?" At least he doesn't blurt out what the fuck are you gonna do? which is what's absolutely going through his head. "Is there anythin' I can do to help?" he offers instead, knowing the likely answer to that as well.

THE DARK STAR

and continue fighting

better get to diggin' while my body's getting cold.
i keep tryna fight it so just promise when i go, you'll bury me low

He should be used to it by now, given how often it occurred. Isn’t that why he was scared to grow attached in the first place? Because regardless of what world he went to, everything continued to get taken from him as if he were back in Korofi – stuck in a white walled room, no toys for his own, and memories only granted by the times he got to spend with his sister? He can feel the things he loves and cares for start to slip through his fingers like sand and he uses the squeeze of his shoulder from Ronin like an anchor, a tether, feeling himself slip away from it all.

“Not really, no.” He says honestly, because for every bit of optimism Ronin could try and show Sunjata, he was pessimistic at his heart. He could try and see the optimism, but he’d only see the way it would fall apart time and time again.

So he shakes his head on his knees, a makeshift way to wipe away the tears so that Ronin doesn’t see them – because crying is for the weak (thanks dad), and he sucks down a sharp breath to look up at the starry sky. “Don’t know what you can do to help. S’not your fault.” He manages, lips forming a tight line that tugs at the scar that spans half his face. “S’all shitty ‘n I can’t trust anyone anymore. But I trust you, Ronin. So... Please don’t take that away from me too.” He doesn't know what his friend could do to fuck it up, but the Flood wishes to cover his bases at the very least.

SUNJATA

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

"Yeah, well... S'not your fault either," Ronin mutters, his free hand reaching up to swipe at his eyes. He doesn't have any qualms with tears, not any more, and besides which, the Attuned bond he's privy to doesn't really leave anywhere for either man to hide. Letting out a long sigh, he can't help but scoff out a laugh at Sunjata's next remark, sad as it is. Letting his arm move around him properly, Ronin kicks over his little sand wall to let his feet splash in the rushing tide.

"I won't," he says quietly. "Or at least, I'll do my best not to. I trust you too, Jata. You don't haf'ta worry 'bout that, you know?" He smiles, even if it's lopsided and very drunk, the Star reaching out to pat Sunjata on the knee. Things might be going to hell in a handbasket, but at least they can still get wasted on the beach together.

THE DARK STAR

and continue fighting

better get to diggin' while my body's getting cold.
i keep tryna fight it so just promise when i go, you'll bury me low

He’d be willing to argue the point – that it is his fault, time and time again. His fault for not being enough, his fault for making the wrong choices, his fault for saying the wrong things when he truly means something else. But he’s silent, because his emotions are too much like dry grass in the middle of a scorching summer, where someone’s dropped the flame of a match.

The arm wraps around him and Sunjata’s tense at first, until he relaxes into it, burying his face more – trying to prevent how fucking weak he feels. “I’m glad.” He mumbles hoarsely. Glad that Ronin trusts him too – it feels like those that do as of late are going smaller and smaller. It’s added to the scaley exterior, the warding off of those that could hurt him if they got too close.

He recovers enough, sucking down a few deep breaths, before he’s able to lift his head and reach over to hook his arm around Ronin’s neck to tug him in for another hug of sorts, on the beach covered in sand as the tide comes in and laps at their feet and legs now. “I’ll try not t’worry about it.” Oh, but he will.

SUNJATA

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

"Oop--" comes Ronin's elegant response as he's dragged into a hug, the Star smiling and wrapping his arms around Sunjata properly in return, even if it covers them even more in sand and seawater. "Even if you can't not worry 'bout it, do somethin' productive with it. You can always write to me y'know? They'll always find me, wherever I am. Even if I only end up sendin' you stupid recipes."

With a bark of laughter, Ronin pulls back enough to muss his friend's hair and wipe at his cheeks, even if he obviously hasn't been crying. Obviously. "C'mon," he suggests, shifting to try and duck under one of the Flood's arms. "Let's go for a walk, yeah? We'll take the bottle, an' we'll talk 'bout somethin' else."

THE DARK STAR

and continue fighting

better get to diggin' while my body's getting cold.
i keep tryna fight it so just promise when i go, you'll bury me low

He doesn’t know what he’d do without Ronin, if he’s being honest. The hug is a sloppy reciprocation, but it has all the warmth in it regardless and it soothes Sunjata’s frayed edges better than a lighter taken to string. “I didn’t know that.” He mumbles into the hug before it parts. “Could be anywhere?” He reiterates, moving to stand even as he sways heavily and clings to Ronin every chance he gets.

“’m a bit fucked up.” He says, swaying and stumbling into Ronin again, before his gaze is lifting to the sky and the stars that sprinkle overhead. “Are—Are you fucked up too?” He asks, arm around Ronin’s shoulders, his head tilts back down to look at his friend. “You’re a good size y’know that?” Often times Sunjata makes no comment on people’s heights unless his is addressed first, but there’s something about being really fucked up and finding it comfortable and easy to wrap your arm around your best friends shoulders without having to stretch or crane too much.

SUNJATA

we shall heal our wounds, collect our dead

"Anywhere at all," Ronin slurs with a grin, even as they try to wrestle each other onto their feet (good luck, boys). "I got a charm an' it means all letters will get to me, wherever I am in the world. Must drive the ravens crazy." Chuckling, they get into a standing position even if it's very unstable, the Flood and the Star dancing off down the beach for a few paces before they find some sort of balance propped up against one another.

"I'm so fucked up," Ronin giggles, "and it's not even from th'drink." He means to give a gentle pat to Sunjata's shoulder, but his arms are kind of all over the Flood, so he ends up patting his belly instead. Go figure. Oh, but then Jata calls him a good size and Ronin's eyes fill with true-to-the-gods tears. "Really?" he croaks, stumbling forward that they might go for their stroll. "That's so sweet of you to say."

THE DARK STAR

and continue fighting

better get to diggin' while my body's getting cold.
i keep tryna fight it so just promise when i go, you'll bury me low

“No fuckin’ shit.” Sunjata mutters as he works both with and against Ronin to stand, a part of him wondering if he’d even remember the charm in the morning once he’s lived through the incredible hangover he’s sure he’s about to have. For now, though, they’re balanced, propped on one another, making their way down the beach.

A quiet oof leaves Sunjata as Ronin’s hand pats his stomach, a stuttered mumbled laugh leaving him. His arm remains tight around Ronin’s shoulder, at least until the Star stumbles forward. “Yeah.” Sunjata says quickly and easily, giving Ronin’s shoulder a light squeeze as he stumbles to try and catch up too with the stroll. “Real good.”

The conversation shifts to something neither of them will likely remember or will make sense to anyone passing by, but that doesn’t matter. It’s relieving for Sunjata, even marginally, despite everything else going on, and whether they end up spending the night in the sand with their toes in the tide or manage to find some place to sleep off the alcohol, is anyone’s guess.

- FIN <333

SUNJATA