one step forward, two steps back

Maeve

While they'd been able to fly from Torchline, they didn't have such a luxury this time around, instead having to make their way back on foot. It would be a good days worth of travel, but there was surely plenty for their to discuss to fill the time. Maeve is quiet at first, unsure of where to even begin after the last time they saw each other. A night she's done her best not to think about if only because she's trying not to remember what drove her there to begin with.

Finally, she breaks the silence just as they reach the first end of the bridge, unease settling in her belly. "So are the rumors about this place really true? If you look down you'll be tempting an early demise?" Maeve asks, not daring to step forward yet, pursing her lips as she examines the bridge, clearly not trusting its integrity.

But the cut of your love never hurts, baby
It's a sweet butter knife

SUNJATA

He’s silent most of the trip so far too, now that he’s back in his human form, walking along the bridge and letting his hand rise to run his fingers along the vines that dangle down on either side of the bridge. His gaze only slips toward her when she speaks, as she hesitates. “Maybe.” He rumbles with a small shrug, drawing his arm back toward him, hovering at her back as he stares at the bridge. “I wouldn’t stress it, Maeve.” He offers, stepping around her and flashing her a half smirk as he steps onto the bridge.

It sways beneath his feet but he turns to face her as he steps back a few more times. “I’d catch you if you fell.” A sculpted dark brow raises as the feathers spring to life along his shoulders and neck, the navy blue dark as ink in the sunlight dappling through the vines. “It’s a bad look if the ex leader of Torchline went on a trip with the current leader and she got hurt, don’t you think?” Stopping in the middle of the bridge he cocks his head toward her.

i no longer know if i wish to drown myself
in love, vodka, or the sea

Maeve

Maybe. Maeve shoots a playful glare his way, narrowing her eyes at him at his nonchalance, not at all liking how he seems to be okay with it. "Easy for you to say... You're not the one scared of heights." Or boards suddenly giving out under her feet or ropes snapping or simply plummeting to her demise because she dared to look at her feet while she walked across the bridge. Sunjata steps around her easily, moving onto the bridge like it's nothing and Maeve stays frozen in place as it sways, boards creaking under his weight.

Her cheeks flush with heat, snapping up to his gaze as he promises he'd catch her if anything were to happen, but she can't make her legs work. "As reassuring as that is I still don't trust this thing." Maeve reaches out to hold onto the ropes, grip white knuckled as she takes a tentative step forward, blanching as it sways. "It would be a pretty bad look. I think Aurelia would have your head." The woman has been rather protective of her lately and she doesn't think that even the Flood's friendship with the Fireheart would spare him her wrath if something were to happen. He's in the middle and she's barely managed a step. This was going to be rough.

But the cut of your love never hurts, baby
It's a sweet butter knife

SUNJATA

“How do you know I’m not afraid of heights?” Sunjata quips back quickly, flashing an amused grin her way as he stands on the bridge, feeling the boards sway beneath him. “The thing is, you don’t have to trust it. Just pretend it isn’t going to go anywhere and cross it quickly and it’ll be fine.” He suggests, remaining in the middle of the bridge, head cocked as he regards her.

He does bark out a laugh at the threat of Aurelia, though. And while the Fireheart was ferocious in her own right, the grin that’s shot Maeve’s way is toothy and primal. “I think she could try but I’d absolutely keep my head.” A huff of a laugh leaves him, before he’s watching her start to step on the bridge. She grips onto the rope at both sides and he steps further back, giving her room without him to sway the bridge further. “You can do it.” He offers, stepping further back until he’s managed to reach the steadiest part of the bridge with the most support so far.

i no longer know if i wish to drown myself
in love, vodka, or the sea

Maeve

Maeve narrows her eyes at him, five seconds from sticking out her tongue, "Of course the person who can turn into four different flying creatures isn't afraid of heights." She huffs, jaw feathering as she tries to find it in herself to step forward. He was clearly enjoying this way too much. Asshole. "How the actual fuck do you expect me to trust this bridge?" She grumbles and if he looks closely he'd be able to see how her hands tremble.

"Might keep your head, but can't promise you'd keep anything else." Aurelia was down right terrifying bright now when it came to the Nightshade. Something that she wasn't expecting if she was being honest. Not that she minded. His grin does make her smile just a little, the corners of her mouth twitching up as she edges a little further forward, drawing in a shaky breath and keeping her eyes trained on him. This was a terrible idea. The worst thing she's ever done. "Yeah, I probably can, but I'm not going to be fast by any means." Especially not when she steps and the bridge sways and her eyes squeeze close. Nope. Definitely not fast.

But the cut of your love never hurts, baby
It's a sweet butter knife

SUNJATA

“Don’t forget I’m an Outlander and came from a place with no magic or anything of the sort. And I fell out of a tree when I was young and ruined,” he looks down briefly to make sure he points out the correct leg, “this leg. I had to have surgery for it.” He lifts his gaze back to her with that same shit eating grin. “I was afraid of heights until I got the shifts. Ironic, I know, considering how tall I am.”

As for trusting the bridge, well, he doesn’t know how he expects her to but he absolutely does. He gives her space away from him so she can work without him fucking it up, and when he reaches the stable part he folds his arms across his chest, feathers glimmering in the dappling light. “Mm I don’t know. I think I could take her.” He quips back, head cocking again as he watches her.

“If you go faster it’s over sooner. Like ripping off a bandage.” He suggests, remaining in place for her to keep her eye on him. “Besides, I’m much heavier than you are and if I didn’t break the bridge coming across it, you certainly won’t.” Seems like solid logic to him.

i no longer know if i wish to drown myself
in love, vodka, or the sea

Maeve

It almost makes her laugh. He earns himself a slight huff that's almost a laugh, but she's not going to give him the satisfaction. Not when he's being so gods damn smug. Maeve rolls her eyes at him, "Stupidly tall." She shakes her head, pressing her lips into a thin line as she takes another little step, the bridge swinging with her weight. "And I know you weren't the tallest, but you're still tall. Like fucking tree." Maeve is absolutely deflecting and he's just going to have to deal with it.

His constant banter does help her focus on things besides the way the bridge sways and the way her heart pounds against her ribs, palms clammy and face white, but she dares to look up at him again. "I didn't say you couldn't take her, but she's like hellcat right now." Glaring at anyone who dared to look at her too long or got to close, hovering to make sure she wasn't overexerting herself, practically growling when someone crossed an invisible line that Aurelia had drawn in the sand. "She'd give you a fight."

It was sound logic, but sound logic was hard to listen to when there was nothing but irrational fear in her mind. Maeve continues to slowly inch forward, "You rip off bandages?" She arches a brow, looking at him in disbelief, not exactly understanding that herself, but the again Maeve didn't often have a reason to use bandages. "How much more do you think you weigh?" Just keep distracting yourself, Maeve. She's about a quarter of the way onto the bridge now, taking it a bit at a time, holding on tightly to the ropes.

But the cut of your love never hurts, baby
It's a sweet butter knife

SUNJATA

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” He says in a flat tone, but snorts nonetheless. “Haven’t heard that one before.” No, it was words straight out of Ronin’s mouth if memory served right. But regardless, he focuses back on her as she continues to creep across the bridge like an inchworm in comparison and Sunjata wonders if they’ll be here all day at this rate. “And? She might be a hellcat but I’m a dragon.” The grin that spreads across his face again is still just as primal, just as toothy, as his starry sleeved arms come to cross over his chest.

As for ripping off bandages? “In Korofi they had sticky edges that kept them in place rather than having to wrap them. So you’d rip them off. Hurt less that way.” He shrugs with the explanation – realizing that in most cases here they were tied, but back home they had the equivalent of bandaids which he obviously had a love hate relationship with.

He regards her carefully, though, as the question is raised through the air. “I’d wager at least one hundred pounds more. Let alone adding in the partial shifts when I have them.” He doesn’t know for sure of course, but it sounds good enough for him to be believable. And he sticks with it. “C’mon Maeve, we don’t have all day.”

i no longer know if i wish to drown myself
in love, vodka, or the sea

Maeve

"Yeah, I'm sure you haven't because I'm wholly original. Didn't you know that?" She smirked, wrinkling her nose at him and the snort he makes, knowing that she got him at least a little bit. The fact that Ronin had said the exact same thing as her wouldn't at all be surprising. They had a lot in common when it came to teasing. Especially when it came to teasing a particularly tall man named Sunjata. "I know, beastie. You've got lightening and wings and big fuck off teeth. So scary." She quipped, having to bite back her laugh as she continued to oh so slowly inch forward.

Her brows drew together, pausing in her progress to look up at him, obviously unfamiliar with this concept. "Put if it was sticky it would just tug at the healing wound when you tried to change it. That would hurt. Why would you hurt yourself more when you were already hurt in the first place?" Korofi was fucking weird. With their sticky bandages and guns and trials.

It wasn't like she didn't know that he was bigger than her. He was by more than a little. Easily he dwarfed her and it was nothing for him to actually lift her. The difference in weight shouldn't be surprising, but hearing the number outloud still made her pause. Up until he griped about how slowly she was moving, "Oi! Listen here, beastie, I will go as slow as I want. I don't like heights and if you have a problem then do something about it." She snapped, not that there was any real heat in her voice, but she definitely didn't speed up despite his complaining. She'd go at her own pace thank you very much.

But the cut of your love never hurts, baby
It's a sweet butter knife

you promised me sunshine, why's it gloomy? we'll wait 'til the night to catch the moonbeam

“So fucking scary.” He comments with that same toothy grin, allowing a few of his teeth to shift to the jagged, sharp points of the dragon’s shift, before they fade away back into his real teeth, blunt and pale. “I wouldn’t want to be on the opposing side of me.” He tacks on with a light shrug, turning halfway to look down the rest of the bridge as he waits for her to effectively crawl across it.

Her comment on bandages has him looking back at her, barking a laugh. “No, it had gauze in the middle you put over the wound. The rest of it was sticky so it wouldn’t fall off. It’s quite smart, actually.” His tone takes on an almost tittering, chiding tone before he settles back on his heels as she begins to gripe and he huffs.

She doesn’t speed up and Sunjata watches her curiously before he shrugs, shifting into his macaw shift and planting himself on the post of the bridge toward the end, wings tucked in tight. “Sorry. Can’t.” He croaks out, peering at her from the steel of his gaze, surrounded with yellow – feathers ruffling along his head.

SUNJATA

Maeve

Okay, maybe it was pretty scary and maybe she wouldn't be on the other side of it, but that wasn't the point of it all. Nope. Not one bit. He shifts to have fangs and Maeve bares her own teeth at him before huffing a breath, "Yeah, yeah, yeah.. We get it. You're a big tough guy." She would give him one thing, the talking was really helping to distract her from the fact that she was incredibly high of the ground with only a few rickety planks separating her from plunging to her death. So at least he had that going for them.

"Alright, well, you keep your weird, sticky, quite smart bandages to yourself." Maeve mutters, knowing for a fact that he can hear her, continuing her slow progress forward, finally making it to about the middle of the bridge.

That stupid blue feathered motherfucker. Maeve narrows her eyes, glaring at him as he glides away from her to perch at the end of the bridge, croaking out his excuse. "Sorry. Can't." She mimics, letting out a string of curses in French, not caring if he understood her or not. "You know, if the roles were switched and you were the one scared and inching across the bridge, I'd help you. You know why? Because I'm a good friend. That's what friends do, Jata. They help each other." Is she complaining? Yeah she is. Does she care? No she doesn't. He can deal with it. Plus, it's a distraction. Which really helps because if she even stops to think about this all she's definitely going to be sick.

But the cut of your love never hurts, baby
It's a sweet butter knife

SUNJATA

She mimics his avian tones and Sunjata’s head cocks to the side, his feather’s splaying with the motion as he ruffles his wings a fraction as he stares at her. He clicks his beak a few times during her rant, mimicking a laugh that echoes against the vines before he’s pushing himself off the end of the bridge, flying back toward her only to turn around behind her and fly back to the end of the bridge where he turns back into himself, leaning against the post that signifies the end of the bridge.

“I am helping you.” He says, flatly, lifting his hand to inspect it as if he’s checking his nails. “If you don’t do it yourself how will you ever manage it again?” He lifts his head to peer back at her with a playful smirk. “You’re no princess that needs rescuing. It’s a bridge. Look, you’re already halfway across.” He gestures to it, before he crosses one boot over the other and leans back on both hands now.

“And also if you’re going to go that route, I wouldn’t be in that position. Or if I did, I’d get through it myself.” Because he was Korofian and when faced with issues like that which feared him, he practiced it over and over and over again until he was good at it, so nobody could use it against him again.

Exhibit A) The Korofi Swim Test.

i no longer know if i wish to drown myself
in love, vodka, or the sea

Maeve

He was such a show off. Preening and clicking at her words, making a sound that was almost like laughter and if it wasn't for the fact that she was scared of letting go she would absolutely throw something at him. He continues to show off, doing a full loop around her before landing back at the end of the bridge, shifting once more to lean against the post nonchalantly.

"This isn't helping. This is goading." She mutters and honestly if she wasn't so irritated by his smugness, she'd likely be crying by this point. Hell, there is a chance she still might cry, especially when a sharp breeze blows through, causing vines and bridge alike to sway. Maeve makes a truly pitiful sound, eyes squeezing shut to resist the urge to look down, but that makes the swaying feel worse. "You say that like I ever plan to cross this damn bridge again. Absolutely not." That was not on her current list of things to do and it likely never would be. No, she's not a princess. She's a queen, but she's queen who is very much on the verge of tears thanks to the breeze and the way her stomach rolls unhappily.

Maeve lets out a shaky breath, not moving forward another step, "Well not everyone is like you." She mutters, trying to calm her racing heart and get over the nausea that's currently twisting in her belly.

But the cut of your love never hurts, baby
It's a sweet butter knife

SUNJATA

“Is it working?” He retorts quickly, still the picture perfect image of someone that’s just leisurely stopped for a break during their stroll, even with how his head is cocked toward her and the sun dapples in through the vines to pepper his scarred skin with spots of bright light against the otherwise bronze hue of his skin. “Well you have to get over it first before you can say you won’t cross it again.” He murmurs back to her.

And then she stops and Sunjata watches her for a moment, before he’s turning his attention away from her to reach for the vines and the flowers that pepper through them, searching through the vibrant hues of pinks and golds for the lilacs and the blues. “No, not everyone is like me. Thankfully.” He rumbles with a snort, pulling a vine from the curtain that covers the side so that he might be able to inspect the flowers a bit more closely.

“Take a deep breath, calm yourself, and then count your steps. I’d say you probably only have five or seven steps to go before you’re here.” He doesn’t look up at her as he focuses on the flowers, running a calloused thumb over the petal of the golden yellow one.

i no longer know if i wish to drown myself
in love, vodka, or the sea