playing with a stick of dynamite

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

Bag in hand, meat from a ramphire inside, all that was necessary now was to cook it amongst the Lava Pits. Snagging at her companion, figuring this would go better than the last time she’d ventured towards the Climb, she skipped along granite and earth, crust and mantle, seemingly unbothered by the threatening, ominous wake of the land. She rather liked it, honestly. No holds barred – it fumed and fueled, blistered and scorched – open and blunt about the dangers lurking at its seams.

Either because it embodied some portions of her soul, or she liked the notions of its angry, ferocious vestiges, she carried on after momentarily tripping over some loose shoal, shrugging her shoulders as she made her way closer to a particular pool of menacing, molten rock.

Fangorn was not a fan, and stayed relatively close to some boulders that didn’t appear near any fire, but she didn’t judge him. From her vantage point though, the youth picked a stone to sit upon, opening the satchel wide enough to retrieve the food. "It won't take that long," she promised him on a murmur.

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

We're riding 'round this carousel, getting dizzy 'til we're sick

He’s been searching everywhere for her, refraining from the dragon until he reaches the Climb – because at the very least it wouldn’t be super out of place, given the ebony dragons that flitted in and out of fiery region. He’s come up empty every place he’s been before, but he’d heard a rumor about how she had been heading toward the Climb, and so that’s where he scouts next.

The rumor was correct, however, and there’s a hint of relief that leaves the tight chest of the dragon as he descends, a ways away as to not startle her – unsure if she’s heard the news yet or not – but he knows he has to tell her himself anyway. He lands, shifting back into himself, steps toward his niece and Fangorn – bags of exhaustion lingering under his eyes. “Mel? I’ve been looking for you for a while now. We need to talk.” He says by way of greeting, getting it out in the open, knowing he wasn’t her favorite person but trying to make it as easy as possible.

For equal measure, he summons a bit of water to make a small little puddle by Fangorn to cool the pumpkin down, to offer him something should he want to roll in it or dip his vines.

the flood

Love is like a circle, there's no easy way to end

totally sniped from odd ilu

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

Fangorn uttered something incoherent and Melita just turned her head over her shoulder, after setting portions of the meat on her newly-acquired skewer (she figured she could use that as a weapon later), when she saw him. Dragon-form and then otherwise.

Not expected – really, given the circumstances of their latest row. The honeybee figured there was some semblance of a crisis brewing again, and there were some inclinations to pretend he wasn’t even there. What would happen if she ignored him?

Brows furrowed, jaw clenched and then unlocked, rolling from side to side for a moment as she decided how to proceed. She let out a long, slow puff of air into the molten void, before twisting back around, surveying the warmth of the void before her, ensuring the ramphire would cook while they discussed (argued) the latest occurrences. “What did you do now?”

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

We're riding 'round this carousel, getting dizzy 'til we're sick

She doesn’t want to talk to him, he can’t blame her. It seems he always arrives with bad news on his tongue, with life altering changes, but this time? This time it wasn’t about him. It was about her favorite of the two of them, and he wasn’t going to keep that from her. She could ignore him if she wanted to, but he wasn’t going to pretend like he didn’t try.

He heaves a breath when she asks what he did, because technically he did a lot but he wasn’t going to sit there and offer out all of the information. He was just going to tell her what the most important part is. So he bypasses the question, shaking his head, keeping his distance. “Have you heard about what happened in Stormbreak?” The start of a question, one that he pauses with before he continues, explaining it anyway. “There was an attack. Gideon, of the Order, and Sam ended up killing each other.” He pauses, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “So a few Ascended went and attacked the Tower in Stormbreak. Edrei died in the attack and… Nate didn’t make it out either.” He pauses, waiting to see how she takes it before he tells her that the Ascended may have a chance of coming back.

the flood

Love is like a circle, there's no easy way to end

totally sniped from odd ilu

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

It was probably best that Fangorn stayed well away, biding his time in the newly formed puddle, because the sudden bouts of rage peeling over his bonded were alarming. It built in an inferno, with her hands pulsing, nearly dropping the skewer, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she stared over the molten proportions, rooted to the spot only because of her quest. Otherwise Sunjata might’ve had the poker aimed at his chest, or something equally dangerous and asinine.

She hadn’t heard.

“The priest? The one who always screamed outlandish shit in Torchline?” And Sam? Dead? Disbelief blinked once or twice through her gilded eyes, before she rounded back to her uncle, teeth clenching in a malicious little bite. It was the last sentence that did her in more so than everything else – some small scale assault on a region known for its ties to obliterating Ascended, and them doubling back to try and do the same to the Order… ”What do you mean, didn’t make it out? Are they holding him prisoner?” Because in some proportion of her young, defiant little mind, there weren’t any other options. Nate was Nate, strong and dependable and enduring, and Sunjata was Sunjata, impulsive, impetuous, and short-sighted.

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

We're riding 'round this carousel, getting dizzy 'til we're sick

“Yes.” Sunjata says simply. Gideon, the one that had actively sought out the Ascended shrines to destroy them. Gideon, the one who showed up to spout stupid things nonstop to the people of Torchline, preaching all of this love from the Old Gods when there was so much proof of the opposite floating around the grimy region he loved so much.

But when she asks if they’re holding him prisoner, well, he supposes they are in a way. Muscles feather in his jaw as she turns back to him and he focuses on keeping his attention on her face, ignoring what it is she’s trying to cook, whatever it is she’s trying to do. “He’s… Dead. But not? He’s immortal, as far as I’ve heard.” He doesn’t know, though, it isn’t something he thinks Nate knew either. “He’s in the Temple in Stormbreak. I intend to go with Isla soon and get him back.” But if they can’t, the next steps would be delicate.

The Voice had offered to explode Nate’s body. “I don’t know how long he’s… Asleep? Shut down for, but…” He trails off, letting his shoulders drop with a quiet sigh, letting his hand rise to run through his shorter hair now, thumb pressing against his temple briefly before the hand drops.

the flood

Love is like a circle, there's no easy way to end

totally sniped from odd ilu

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

The shock of it all should’ve sent her into tears or hysterics. Perhaps his next set of lines ensured she did neither – her brain clinking and clogging things together in a rapid pace, and then having to go over them again and again. Dead. But not. Immortal. Capable of returning. Wasn’t that something like resurrection? Numb – perhaps that’s what she was for the moment.

She swallowed down a trace of bile instantly clinging to her throat, one hand rubbing away at whatever flickered in her eye. Her attention meandered from the meat, though by the smell and gentle steam rising from its ramparts, she knew it was cooking, and everything else didn’t seem to particularly matter. “I didn’t-,” she wasn’t even sure how to finish. Didn’t know anyone, save for the gods, could be in such a way. Maybe it was something faceted and attached to the demigods and their allegiances. “I didn’t realize,” she muttered, uttered, dimly. Fingers clutched over metal again, and her gaze pinpointed to the ground. “Are they going to let you have him back?”

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

We're riding 'round this carousel, getting dizzy 'til we're sick

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands or how to stand, how to explain everything that’s happened with both the limited understanding he has of such things. So he hums a quiet sigh, ends up folding his arms across his chest, pressing at his temple again. “I didn’t know either. I… Don’t know if he knows either.” He admits with a small frown, trying his best to not grind his teeth.

Are they going to let him have Nate back? To this he shakes his head with uncertainty. “I don’t know.” He rumbles, heaving a sigh, arms unfolding to wave unhelpfully in front of him. “I hope so.” But he can’t make them. He can try and make demands but it likely wouldn’t go far against Ronin. “It’s why I’m going with Isla. She wants to talk with them about a peace treaty I think.” He shrugs again because he doesn’t know. All he’s in it for is getting Nate back. Getting him home.

the flood

Love is like a circle, there's no easy way to end

totally sniped from odd ilu

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

The unknown clawed and grasped, and the war beckoned that much closer. Maybe she’d felt somewhat out of it, skirting and floating by, tending to her own affairs and adventures, rather than adhering to the ominous beacons. That it hit and pummeled and bombarded this close to home, in family, burst the bubble and left her fingers tightening on the handle.

Does one mourn an individual that was due to come back? Did she make him a lantern? What was the protocol for immortality? All the people she’d lost had never returned.

She bit down on her lip, miring and mooring herself along the fiery pits and the maelstrom below. The honeybee felt like an errant tide, washed ashore with no real anchor; adrift and nothing. “Okay,” she softened, as if trying to puzzle through the murk. “What about the kids? And where are you staying?”

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

We're riding 'round this carousel, getting dizzy 'til we're sick

It’s the best way this conversation could have gone as far as Sunjata’s aware. And the relief is palpable in his shoulders as the tension drops from them, as he stops grinding his teeth — making a conscious effort to do better with that. He swallows after her question, his gaze flickering between whatever it is she’s cooking and the flame beneath it. “We’re in the Grounds. Back at the VlamVloed.” He pauses, his arms dropping to hang limply at his sides.

“It’s likely where we’ll stay until Nate comes back.” Something familiar enough, like he’s taken a nap and just woken up. The rest of it, though, was also to protect him from the repercussions of what the Ascended had done with his dragon shifts. Protection, because for all he’s done for the Ascended, they can offer him that much for himself and the twins.

the flood

Love is like a circle, there's no easy way to end

totally sniped from odd ilu

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

The meat cooking was barely a distraction, though she twisted the handle around so the other side was touched and scorched by heat too. Sunjata and the twins back in the Grounds. At the VlamVoed; almost like touches and fringes of the past, except everything else was skewed around it. She shook her head, eyes going towards molten pits and iron rocks and cores that simply became infernos; mindful of the way the Flood intended to tuck himself into a haven of Ascended.

And what that really meant – she’d known all along. Especially with Nate.

“What about Stormbreak? Did people make it out okay?” Something she wrestled with – not really caring about how the Order tumbled along, because if they all fell apart, with their racist and radical agendas, maybe the rest of this would too…but how Edrei and Nate had been decimated left her wondering, pondering, brow furrowing slightly.

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

We're riding 'round this carousel, getting dizzy 'til we're sick

It had become a line drawn, one that he hadn’t crossed under Safrin’s ever watchful eye. But without her and the new encouragement from Frey to make his stands, to be less afraid, he’s drawn those lines and despite what everyone else might think, the Flood doesn’t regret them. Frey had told him to stop looking into the past so much, it’s likely time he starts trying to stop. His arms find themselves folded across his chest with her question, his head shaking, eyes returning to her as the frownlines in his face deepen more.

“Not everyone.” Sunjata begins, tentatively. “A couple of Order members died in the attack. Ronin was there, he’s the one that fought for Stormbreak’s side but eventually the Tower was brought down.” He pauses. “It fell on top of Nate’s body.” He cringes with the sentence that just left him, his face twisting slightly as he turns away to reach up and rub the side of his face, over the scar left behind from his father. “I assume they put him in the Temple so they could figure out what to do with their own casualties.”

the flood

Love is like a circle, there's no easy way to end

totally sniped from odd ilu

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

Considering Ronin a friend as well, Melita kept her mouth shut. For an instant, at the very least, she pondered what that scene must’ve been like – for she’d fought alongside him, knew his power well – and that he’d defended the land against all of them must’ve signified something too. Foolishness on Nate’s part? Why did he keep going? “Would Nate have stopped?” She whispered, mostly to herself, as it scattered amongst stones and meat. He’d had family at home.

And then a Tower fell on him.

She swallowed down multitudes until it might have bound or choked her – circumventing along her lungs like smoke and ash and flame. “What are you going to do now?” She asked finally, out across the outcropping, barely twisting her ember-laden head in his direction. Not about getting Nate’s body back. That was a given. But everything thereafter.

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

We're riding 'round this carousel, getting dizzy 'til we're sick

Sunjata also knew his power well, yet he also knows the answer to the question that she asks, the one that’s whispered yet the gilded earring in his ear allowing him to hear clear enough. “No. Only because of Ronin.” And because of his interactions with Ronin that spurred so much hate between the two – something that Sunjata doesn’t know how to approach, something he hoped he never had to, and yet here they were.

He turns slightly back toward Fangorn, summoning more water to offer for the puddle given that the heat is easily dissipating the puddle he’d created before, and when he turns back to Melita and the meat she’s cooking, he finds himself frowning, shrugging a shoulder, the uncertainty clearly written on his face. “Just… Whatever Frey asks of me now. I’ll stay in the Grounds with Nate until he’s back so that he’s got access to the shrines whenever he’ll need them. Aside from that? Taking care of your cousins.” He sighs quietly, feeling like the idea sounded so simple but knowing his track record, it would likely end up far more difficult.

the flood

Love is like a circle, there's no easy way to end

totally sniped from odd ilu