[Training] [se]who we are in our heart of hearts

Having lost her beloved chakram, Wessex is forced back to her roots; knife, sword, bow and arrow. Nothing fancy, just old fashioned skills and experience - none of which will do her any good when facing Remi or Ronin. She’ll need her magic for that, but it’s too hot and dry to safely use her lasers. The last thing the Grounds needs is more fire. So that leaves half-hearted assaults on a practice dummy until something better comes up. The demigod moves with a fluid grace, sliding through a series of attacks with a smoothness born of years of practice (and also the lack of a moving opponent). She’s there and then she isn’t, shifting and moving around the dummy in a circle, each movement punctuated by a dull thwack until she’s back at the beginning again. No sweat, just… a growing sense of frustration as she stares at her dull and lifeless opponent, willing it to move. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm

don't try to follow me, i would hold you down if i could make you the enemy,

There’s some deep irony in it, to find Wessex like this. A lot of it reminds him of the first time he’d met the demigod, back when he was freshly ported to Caido – around LongNight before he’d realized just how horrible of a time it was. Either way, he finds her after he’d been searching for her – his mental state a fraction better than it has been recently, focusing on the perks and benefits (because if nothing else, those in the Grounds had been far more welcoming to Sunjata’s ascension into demigodhood than the Old Gods friends he’d had).

He clears his throat once he’s sure she’s already thwacked the target and stepped back to stare at it, Sunjata stepping into the ring shortly after. “Hey, I was told I could find you here.” He comments by way of greeting – his shoulders a bit heavier than they were the last time they’d talked – something more quiet and moody settling on his chest rather than the laid back ease of before. “Wanted to talk if you have a moment. I could even help you train if you prefer that.” He suggests, rolling a shoulder in a shrug, his steel gaze focusing on Wessex with curiosity.

the flood

i would  let   you     d    o    w    n

totally sniped from odd ilu

Wessex

“Mmmm, a General at the Barracks. Surprising, right?” She is, however, outside the building, as inside would be nothing but darkness. Fine for her, but not so much for those who aren’t Ascended. Tossing the blade to the ground, Wessex turns and looks at Caido’s newest demigod. Her brow furrows slightly as he mentions he wants to talk to her and as her head cocks slightly to one side, she says, “You know me, always ready for a friendly spar. What’s up?”

While waiting for the Flood to spill whatever’s on his mind, she glances to the sword on the ground, and then to her hands. Meh. Boring. She suddenly shifts into her Kitsune form - a shadowy grey fox with black fox and several tails, all sporting white tips. Her tongue lolls out in a vulpine grin as she attempts something she isn’t quite sure will work - Can you hear me like this?

What is life? A madness
What is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story

hey young blood, doesn't it feel like our time is running out?
I'm gonna change you like a remix, then i'll raise you like a phoenix

A snort does leave Sunjata – finding himself more at ease with the Ascended as the days go on. At the very least, they’re the only ones that haven’t outwardly gotten upset with him for the choices he’d made. So he draws his posture up, letting the small twitch of a smile start to lift the corner of his lips. “I was just wondering if you could tell me more about the Voice.” His accented rumble leaves his lips, head tilting up slightly. “What she’s like to you. I’ve heard from Nate but, I guess I’m just more curious about everyone else’s experience if I’m supposed to talk to her.” The last thing he wants to do is offend yet another goddess.

He only gets so many second chances, right? (He’s on his fourth now it seems).

His brows rise though, soon as he notices the way Wessex shrinks and shifts, a fox with many tails staring up at him, her words filtering through his head with enough surprise that his brows rise, steel eyes widening a fraction. “Oh. I can, yeah.” He rumbles – wondering if maybe the metal shift had some sort of blocker in it, or since it was more robotic it kept them from talking. Either way, this one works, and Sunjata fiddles with his soul internally to figure out which of his shifts might make for the most challenging and fun one.

He picks his own canine shift, a black german shepherd standing in front of the other fox, ears perked. I can do this one or the panther, pick your poison. He rumbles back toward her mentally, his tongue lolling out of his mouth with a surprising amount of ease.

wearing our vintage misery, no, i think it looked a little better on me

SUNJATA

Wessex

Oh she knows what a panther can do, and quite frankly, her tails and tiny canines are no match for the sleek apex predator. She knows it. He knows it. And yet… she’s kicked his ass once or twice, so it might be time to repay the favor. If you want to try and do some damage, bring on the panther, but these shapes are more fun. And equally matched. Outwardly, she makes a little inviting whine and all her tails sway back and forth, inviting the dog - or panther, if he switches - to play.

Then Wessex turns tail and runs, scampering around the corners of the building, hopefully taking the Flood by surprise with her sudden departure, and giving her long enough to round a corner or two before pressing herself against the wall and trying to create the illusion that she’s ~* dIsApPeArEd*~ into thin air.

So the Voice… she replies, taunting Jata with the sound in his head and yet ‘nothing’ on the ground.. To me? She’s everything. Is that a little needy-slash-cringey? Who cares? It’s true.

What is life? A madness
What is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story

hey young blood, doesn't it feel like our time is running out?
I'm gonna change you like a remix, then i'll raise you like a phoenix

The canine eyes her curiously, a pulse of amusement flickering down the attuned bond toward her – something he can share with someone else for what feels like the first time in ages when it had been so instinctual for so long. Not having his partial shifts and his ability to chat with attuned (or Nate anymore) had really taken a number on him – made him feel relatively lonely even if he was everything but.

More fun it is. The ex-attuned decides, long tail wagging as his ears perk up to watch her with his steel gaze. The shift isn’t a secret anymore anyway, having no reason to keep it hidden (and despite the fact Wessex knew about it anyway), and so he settles back on his haunches, watching and waiting for her to take the first move.

He's slow to start, launching himself after her the second she starts running – but it’s delayed, this shift a bit less familiar than he’s used to, but he rounds the corner in a bit of a skid, kicking up a bit of dirt before his ears flatten and he draws up – nose to the air to try and sniff her out. Mm, more than just the obvious? He probes, stepping along the side of the building, nose to the sky and to the ground, alternating to try and seek her out. I met her once, I think that I got off on the wrong foot with her. I want to make sure I don’t make the same mistake. He admits, a little sense of apprehension sifting down the bond.

wearing our vintage misery, no, i think it looked a little better on me

SUNJATA

Wessex

She is utterly unaware of what Sunjata is missing, only knowing that the paths of communication opened up with this shift. And it’s amazing, particularly when she realizes she’s able to feel emotions. Of course she’d known it during her borrowed shifts, but because this is all her own,  surprise and delight blossoms in return.

It turns into amusement as she flattens herself agains the wall and watches him try to find her - it shouldn’t be hard, she doesn’t try to mask her scent or anything (though what a normally inorganic person in an now-organic body smells like, she’d love to know) other than the visuals. Oh alright. She’s the only one who’s ever truly accepted me for who I am, flaws and insecurities and all. Don’t get me wrong, Amun came close, and some younger Ascended have a bit of hero-worship eyes, but they don’t know the real me.

They’ve never asked. They don’t want to know what keeps her up at night or how fast her mind races. But the Voice takes it all in and makes it okay.

Anyway, back to the game. Much like a certain scene from Fox and the Hound, when Sunjata’s nose finds a paw, she fox-laughs and reveals herself, jumping high and away from the wall, tails flying behind her. Hoping to have taken the dog!Flood by surprise, Wessex tries to dart away again, this time mulitplying herself so there are five different versions of Wessex milling in one area. She might like you better, now that you’re not with Safrin. Though truly, the Wraith has no idea what the Voice things of the Rae and their ilk. After all, some might say that she and Rae/Frey are diametrically opposed.

What is life? A madness
What is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story

hey young blood, doesn't it feel like our time is running out?
I'm gonna change you like a remix, then i'll raise you like a phoenix

He imagines she smells similarly to how Nate does, a mix of flesh and fur but that underlying tone of what Sunjata can only equate to gasoline being some sort of undercurrent. An afterthought, as it were. Still, he comes out relatively empty, nostrils flaring and tail waving ever so slightly as he seeks her out – thinking he’s found her around a corner (the wrong one, of course) and he pounces, only to come up empty.

A snort leaves him through the bond, well practiced enough in it to keep his darker emotions to himself and able to allow over the feelings of amusement that spark along it. We all have flaws. He hums thoughtfully, continuing his search. He rounds another corner, finding a paw as he pounces and a bit of pride racks through the bond as Wessex reveals herself.

She absolutely has caught him by surprise, though, and he stutters, paws scraping along the floor as he scampers to try and catch up to her – watching as suddenly five appear. He huffs quite audibly in his canine shift, picking number… Four and darting after it. I think I like myself better not being with Safrin, so that makes sense. Sunjata mutters, huffing another laugh down the bond. I need to talk to her about Frey’s proposition too… I just don’t want to offend her with it. I feel as though I’ve been back at the drawing board, among everything fucking else that’s been going on. He sighs, continuing the game. How have things been for you? Lately, that is.

wearing our vintage misery, no, i think it looked a little better on me

SUNJATA

Wessex

Is there such a thing as an eyeroll emotion? If so, she sends it right back. Of course we all have flaws. Mine tend to get people killed no matter what I do. And are much harder to forgive, if anyone were to ask Edy, or the Fae, or fuck, Deimos. Living with that kind of responsibility is hard, and even as the Wraith feeds Sunjata the illusions of multiples of her, she turns pensive and borderline self-indulgent. And she eases my guilt. Reminds me of what I can and cannot control. Without a partner, or a lover, or… anyone, really, I have a fucking Goddess who keeps me on a need-to-know basis.

She knows why, of course. But it doesn’t help with feelings. Despite being one of Wessex’s closest confidants, The Voice doesn’t reciprocate fully.

Sunjata’s nose touches number four and it vanishes in a puff of smoke, leaving one, two, three, and five grinning at the black dog. Then there are suddenly four mirrors of him, each one barking or whining or making some kind of dog sound as they challenge Sunjata to chase them.

You definitely seem happier, which is followed by a pulse of not-quite-affection. Definitely something good, though. What’s Frey’s proposition? And what could it possibly have to do with the Ascended?

What is life? A madness
What is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story

hey young blood, doesn't it feel like our time is running out?
I'm gonna change you like a remix, then i'll raise you like a phoenix

I know the feeling. Sunjata replies. Maea, Atlas, Lusea twice, Nate nearly once. He shoves all those darker, deeper thoughts down though not wanting to influence Wessex’s own emotions and instead channels it into pouncing after one of the illusion Wessex’s. It comes up empty, though and he turns tail to chase after the next one, feeling a bit like he’s playing a game of whack a mole. Only then does he realize that the Wessex’s have turned into him and his ears pin for a second as he stops, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he pants, trying to pick which one to go off of.

He picks number five, figuring that it’s worth a shot if nothing else. The feeling Wessex sends over alleviates some of his worries, though, even if he still doesn’t entirely know how to talk to anyone about the proposition. I know she says she designed you all to be perfect, but… With as much traction as the room here gets, Frey said it might be possible to figure out a way to work with the Voice on how to revert that so you wouldn’t need the room. That was only part of the proposition – the other one he’s still not entirely comfortable bringing up to anyone that wasn’t Nate.

Not wanting to deal with the judgement - the why save one when you can fight to save us all.

wearing our vintage misery, no, i think it looked a little better on me

SUNJATA

Wessex

Number five was a good choice, because it turns out to be Wessex, who roo roo roos at Sunjata before snapping playfully at him and leaping against his side, trying to provoke a tussle. Now that she’s his own size, it seems more appropriate, somehow. More even like this than with their various shifts and powers.

It isn’t until after they part for a breath that Wessex goes back to what Jata said about Frey. She doesn’t want to be a debbie downer in what overall seems to be a good thing for him, but pragmatism and reality rear their heads in the back of her mind. I don’t want you to get your hopes up, she says, finally, reticence and a pulse of caution headed towards the other dog.Maybe after the war, if we survive, it might be something to bring up. But I don’t see it being a priority any time soon, not when that kind of change might take up energy and time spent elsewhere.

If he wants to stay on their Goddess's good side, he needs to understand her priorities, which are more likely to be geared towards keeping herself and the Ascended alive than whether or not they were able to fuck like rabbits again. In fact, if someone came to her with that kind of request on the eve of war, she might wonder if the person really cared for their Ascended partner at all.

What is life? A madness
What is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story

hey young blood, doesn't it feel like our time is running out?
I'm gonna change you like a remix, then i'll raise you like a phoenix

Oh he certainly gives into the taunt, the tussle between the two canines that have Sunjata’s chest heaving as they eventually pull away from their little play fight, before Sunjata’s offering a play bow toward her, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth and his tail wagging with the way his shift seems to start taking over him more and more. His ears only waver at her answer, an understanding flickering down the bond toward her, before he pounces out at the other canine again. It’s more of a prolonged plan. Like after the war. He admits, sure that Frey likely isn’t going to be thinking about that initially. No, maybe on the back burner, but the forefront is trying to make sure Nate’s safe.

Because he can’t – he won’t do this without him. Call him clingy and selfish all you like, but his priority is certainly his husband. And by that extension, their children. But their children weren’t Ascended and as far as Sunjata knew, wouldn’t be in immediate danger as Nate and Wessex currently are if things head south. If… You were given a chance to wait out the war somewhere else, would you? He asks instead, some sort of confusion and curiosity coating the bond as he leaves it wide open for her to decide, without any interjecting thoughts.

wearing our vintage misery, no, i think it looked a little better on me

SUNJATA

Wessex

As the other illusions fade away, Wessex play bows back to him before leaping sideways and away, tail high and wagging as she explores the capabilities of holding this kind of illusion for a decent amount of time - and while doing other things. It’s a lot and every now and then there’s a flicker of something else under the dog’s facade.

Understanding flickers back towards the Flood; she knows the pull of long-term dreams, even if they feel like a luxury she can’t afford to indulge in right now. That kind of emotional energy is hoarded, saved, stuffed into secret wells for when everything goes to hell in a handbasket - she can’t afford to allow disappointment into the mourning mix. That understanding, however, quickly turns to curiosity and she turns, fixing him with a tilted-head expression.

No. Never. She thinks the answer to be obvious. Not necessarily the nuances of why she would never do such a thing, but the overall No.Why do you ask?

What is life? A madness
What is life? An illusion, a shadow, a story

hey young blood, doesn't it feel like our time is running out?
I'm gonna change you like a remix, then i'll raise you like a phoenix

The concentration is certainly one that he can see faltering – but he’s pretty sure the way his chest heaves in his canine form is a good sign that he’s exhausted, used up most of what energy he has in both his mental state and his physical state, so when Wessex grows curious as to why Sunjata’s asked the question, there’s a brief flicker of shyness, of frustration with himself, perhaps a hint of shame and selfishness that has the canine flopping down among the grass and dirt, panting as he averts his gaze from the demigod to peer off into the distance, hearing the sounds of people walking down the street.

It probably makes me terrible, but. I would. He admits, roughly, his mental voice a hint shy, preparing mentally for himself to be judged. Any war, really. I’m tired of the conflict and the not knowing how to fix it. He realistically can’t fix it, but he can try to come to terms with that. Tired of losing everyone.

wearing our vintage misery, no, i think it looked a little better on me

SUNJATA