Priorities

I've been thinking too much.

The first thing Nathaniel regrets is the dog. A week with no company but her, and suddenly her absence is a missing stair. He turns toward her and she isn’t there. And it’s dramatic, sure, because she’s only back at home. Because she only has a job to do and she isn’t his friend, but he misses her all the same. It takes less than a week for him to forget how to interact with human beings. He wishes he could just put a hand on her head and say something under his breath. Something like, I didn’t miss this place at all.

But Flowerbirth is dawn at the edge of night, sunlight on the whole miserable world, and Nathaniel has a list of things to do. It starts with melting snow and mud in the streets. Frost dwindling to bare the earth naked and raw underneath. Soon comes the rain, planting season, baby chicks, maybe this is the year he finds a new dog… His thoughts run away, disappearing somewhere in the future. Things due today: Supplies. Information, too, if he can find it.

This is why he finds himself in the marketplace, willingly surrounded by the indefatigable thrum of life. As if the whole place wasn’t drenched in death and darkness just a few days ago. As if people weren’t just dying on these very streets. And this is why he misses the dog — because she would be a constant presence at his side, stolid ribs pressed into his thigh, ears pricked, eyes watchful. Without her, he is a little lost, wandering down the street in the haze of his thoughts, trying to remember most of the things he needs.

Candles. A new whetstone. Maybe a new blade for the old knife. He hates haggling more than he hates most other things, so it takes him a while. One stall to the next, picking things up and turning them over. Making conversation. Someone tells him the Spark Bird descended this year, and he laughs.

Eventually, he has most of the things he needs. Shoved into pockets or cradled awkwardly in the crook of one arm. Nathaniel makes his way in the direction of the perch, just to look. He is, as usual, too caught up in his thoughts to pay much attention to anything else.

Nate

This place was definitely strange, new...but Adam knew marketplaces like the back of his hand. They were always the same. It was easy, now that he was well practised at it, to immediately pick out the shopkeeps that would be easy to lift from. Those that were distracted, picking at their wares or talking to others. As he headed into the stalls, he easily took a piece of fruit from a farm stall and casually ate it as he walked along, frowning at the odd new taste but deciding he didn't mind it and continuing to eat. It appeared the fucking massive bird on fire was gone. He had gathered it was called The Sparkbird, and was only a wintertime arrival; apparently the seasons here came and went very quickly for apparently in just a day, it had become spring. Adam drifted towards the perch as he wondered whether or not the feathers were worth anything. There was another man approaching it, who looked very sad, trapped in his thoughts. Giving him a nudge with his elbow, Adam nodded towards the perch. "Missed your chance to make a big Sparkbird sandwich, eh? Maybe you can do it next year, don't look so miserable." ADAM maybe i'm my own greatest fear maybe i'm too scared to admit that i might not be as dark as i think maybe i'm not the person that i never wanted to be

I've been thinking too much.

Scorch marks. Nathaniel sees them, but doesn’t quite believe them. How many years spent huddled up inside, the darkness keening against the windows like a tortured thing? How many years watching the perch go up? Praying luxere would be enough? Of course the thing waited to show up until he was long gone. He isn’t sure if he’s annoyed or grateful or something else.

It’s then someone has the audacity to run into him, a jolt against his ribs and also somewhere up in the nebulous reaches of his brain. He doesn’t startle, just stares, a little annoyed to find the stranger of an even height with him, though maybe about half as wide. A lanky, wild sort of fellow, dark hair and strikingly sharp features. Almost like a handsome version of Nathaniel, if Nathaniel also forgot to eat for six months.

“Did you see it?” he asks, shifting deliberately away. The comment about the sandwich is so stupid he ignores it at first, moving forward instead as he contemplates touching one of the scorch marks.

Nate

Oh dear, it seemed like this guy was going to be difficult. That was Adam's immediate opinion of anyone who didn't go along with his stupid bullshit humour right away, and he wrinkled up his nose as Nate moved away. People paid for the chance to be close to him. Nate was throwing away a great privilege and he didn't even know it. "Yeah, I saw it. Yesterday. Big fucking thing, huh?" His voice did not carry any of the appropriate reverence for the mythical creature he had witnessed, more the tone of someone talking about an odd bird they'd seen in their garden the other day. "On fire and shit, too. How'd you miss it?" He stayed back as Nate moved forward to touch the scorch marks, putting his hands on his hips and shifting his weight onto one foot as he looked up at the perch. "This place is goddamn weird, man." ADAM maybe i'm my own greatest fear maybe i'm too scared to admit that i might not be as dark as i think maybe i'm not the person that i never wanted to be

I've been thinking too much.

Nathaniel snorts a laugh as he turns to raise a brow at the stranger. “Big, yeah.” How pathetic is it to admit he’s jealous? He decides he isn’t, really. He survived, after all, without any need for outside help. Nathaniel shoves the worried tangle forming in his guts far, far down. Well out of reach. “I don’t live up here.” For half a second, he considers saying more, but then he looks at the stranger. And decides he doesn’t really want the man to know where he lives. “Anyway, it’s better to keep your head down on Longnight. Unless you don’t want it.”

If he feels a twinge of pity for the obvious Outlander, Nathaniel doesn’t show it. “You’re not from here, are you?” He asks, turning to fully face the stranger again. A sort of triumph sneaks into Nate’s tone. An I know more than you do, anyway even if he rarely takes joy in talking, at all. He is still better off than some random Outlander, Spark Bird or not. “Did you get here in the middle of Longnight?” Poor bastard.

Nate

When a laugh came from the previously serious man, Adam smiled encouragingly. Maybe this conversation wouldn't have to be a wade through grumpy waters after all. "Can't blame you. Must be dangerous to live nearby where a big fucking bird on fire comes to hang out." Given that Adam didn't know much about anywhere, Nate's specific address would have meant little to him anyway. In all honesty, Adam was glad he was an obvious foreigner to this place. It was bloody dreary and miserable, and he wanted to stand out from it. "Is it that obvious?" He asked with a laugh, looking down at himself. Certainly no one else here seemed to wear skintight leather pants and knee-high heels. They were missing out. "Well uh, as much of a shame as it is 'cos it sounds like it was super great, I only got here yesterday, so I understand I missed a lotta the party." Actual, real tragedy and Adam didn't mix, so he was glad he had been absent for the week of dark and death. "Is it...normal for people to come falling in from the roof here? Gonna have to get a fucking helmet or something." ADAM maybe i'm my own greatest fear maybe i'm too scared to admit that i might not be as dark as i think maybe i'm not the person that i never wanted to be

I've been thinking too much.

Were Nathaniel the type to be concerned — of course, he wasn’t — he might find the Outlander’s lack of caution alarming. Such ignorance was dangerous in Caido, especially during the darker months. People prayed for big fucking birds to bless the town with burning light. And here was this Outlander, dressed like a clown, shooting off at the mouth as if he had any idea.

“All Outlanders are obvious,” Nate says dryly. Of course, he might be wrong. He might only notice the obvious ones — he doesn’t exactly interrogate every stranger he passes on the street. He feels better making absolute statements like this. Feels knowledgeable, something which occurs so rarely he takes this opportunity to bask in it.

“From the ceiling? No. But people… show up. We call them Outlanders. It didn’t used to happen so often, but these days…” Nathaniel drew in a long breath and shook his head. “At least you missed most of the fun. Do you have a place to stay yet? You won’t last long out here in that.” His dark eyes rake Adam up and down, taking in the man’s tasteless clothing without making any sort of judgment other than disgust, of course. There was nothing interesting about such a lack of practicality. Or about swaggering around town making bad jokes. Nothing at all.

It was simply in Nathaniel’s best interest to make sure the stranger found a place to stay far away from the places Nathaniel liked to visit.

Nate

"Outlanders." Adam repeated, having heard the word a couple times but not really understood what it was referring to until now. He kind of liked it. Made him sound interesting, unusual; like he had a better story than the boring people who lived in this dump. He couldn't tell if Nate's question was born from actual concern or a desire to keep Adam far away, but he had no reason to not answer it. Adam shook his head and shrugged. "Nah. I'm not intending to stay all that long. I know, I know, you're gonna be all 'oooh but you can't fucking leave, mate'. Well, I'll see about that." With a wide smile he looked about at the town as if daring it to prove him wrong, to trap him in this place forever. When he turned back to Nate he was still smiling, though now it was more of a friendly smirk. "I should introduce myself. Adam Pikely. I guess you haven't heard of me, but you'll hear my name a lot soon enough. I'm kind of a big deal." ADAM maybe i'm my own greatest fear maybe i'm too scared to admit that i might not be as dark as i think maybe i'm not the person that i never wanted to be

I've been thinking too much.

Not intending to stay all that long. Nathaniel can only listen with poorly veiled amusement to this declaration, one he has certainly heard before. He wonders how long the fellow has before getting chewed up by the spire monster.

“Well,” says Nate, lifting his free hand to run through his hair, a minor tell of something like embarrassment. “You might want a weapon or something if you end up near the big black tower. The monster around there is nothing to take lightly.” Of course, maybe this will only encourage the reckless behavior. Nathaniel can’t be sure, but at least he gave the warning. It won’t be his fault when the Outlander ends up dead.

He probably ought to say something polite, something like nice to meet you, but it isn’t exactly, and Nate doesn’t think he’s ever actually said nice to meet you in his life. Maybe under threat of physical violence. Maybe when he was much younger, and much smaller. Instead, he just says, “Nate,” his expression dubious. He can’t fathom hearing anything other than an obituary, really, but at least the Outlander has personality. “Good luck out there, Big Deal.”

Unless the Outlander does something to keep him, Nathaniel intends to head back home. A lot of work awaits him, and the farther he is from Outlanders and Spark Bird perches, the better.

Nate

"Monster? Ha. I'm sure I can handle it." Adam said, all bravado and grins with a flash of his guns at his hips, but internally he made a mental note to stay the fuck away from this 'big black tower'. Raids on caravans and Lord's houses, the odd intimidation job, those were cool and sexy with little chance of death. Monsters? Not so much. He got a name then was dismissed within the same second. Adam didn't know if he had much left to say, but he didn't like being so quickly tossed away. He reached out to grab Nate's elbow. "Hey, hey man, don't be running away so quick. I know I'm fucking intimidatingly hot, but we can hang out. Maybe you could show me the ropes around here? Maybe somewhere I could stay? I've been uh, in the back room of the pub but...that's not very comfy. Hell, I'll find a way to pay for your floor, if you'd give it me." Nate's grumpiness didn't put him off at all. Adam had made his career off the back of cracking smiles from grumpy people. ADAM maybe i'm my own greatest fear maybe i'm too scared to admit that i might not be as dark as i think maybe i'm not the person that i never wanted to be

sons could be birds,
taken broken up to the mountain

The hand on his elbow is unexpected. More the sudden movement, but maybe the weight of contact. Nathaniel freezes, the muscle in his arm all tensing at once. He doesn't send his elbow smashing into Adam's nose, a level of restraint and self-awareness Nathaniel would never have counted on. Instead, he jerks away and turns to face Adam again, each movement stiff and deliberate, a dog with its hackles up.

"I'm not attracted to you," he snaps. It isn't anger, exactly, in the words, but something else. A weird intensiy, like the energy in a rubberband pulled just too far. Nathaniel's eyes are dark and unfriendly suddenly, though he is trying to calm himself down. Difficult when he isn't even sure what he feels. Afraid? Surprised? Some small, reptilian thing in the back of his head is hammering on him and he has no idea what it wants, but he should go away.

He stares at the Outlander.

He doesn't hear everything Adam says.

Or — he does, but it doesn't penetrate the (small) thinking portion of his brain for some time. Then his face does something like a spasm, and he barks out an odd, derisive laugh. "No," he says, but his tone is softening. "Nobody lives with me. Not even people I like. You're an Outlander, what would even pay me with?" Eyes raking the man up and down. "I thought you could handle yourself?"

Meanwhile, his thoughts do some sort of haphazard, directionless calculating. No one lives with him, but no one has asked. The only reason Nathaniel can think of for Adam to ask is that he will some day soon wake up to find most of his more valuable belongings missing, and the Outlander impossible to find.

The venom in Nate's voice made Adam flinch back, but his look of shock was quickly replaced with a smug and knowing smirk. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much." He trilled with a laugh, wiggling his fingers in Nate's direction. The intensity in Nate's voice he took as obvious confirmation of the other man's burning desire for him, as he assumed all people held such need in their hearts. Still, he took his hand away and rose it with his other, a show of backing off. Nate was the kind of grumpy that could tip over into unpleasantness quickly, he could tell. It made Adam want to poke and prod until it tipped over into unwillingly affection, but you couldn't go too far right out of the gate. "Well, yeah. But when people say they can handle themselves, what they mean is that they aren't afraid to ask. I got as far as I did cos I'm fucking charming, and it gets me stuff. So hey. Lemme crash at your place and I'll make it worth your while. Pay you with whatever you like, since there's no money here. Fucks, help ya get revenge on someone, shit, I'll even clean, though I'll do a shitty job of it. Just a few nights?" He did not beg, was not begging now; if he phrased it as a deal he felt better. But Adam was getting desperate for an anchor in this place, somewhere to set down roots and call a starting point. ADAM maybe i'm my own greatest fear maybe i'm too scared to admit that i might not be as dark as i think maybe i'm not the person that i never wanted to be

sons could be birds,
taken broken up to the mountain

Nathaniel is, unfortunately, overmatched. He senses it the same way a weary stag senses hounds coming up on its heels: blind, cataclysmic. Adam has an anwer for everything. Nathaniel is running out of words. He could turn and walk away. Adam could follow. He could turn and run away, but Adam could still follow... and Nataniel would look insane, or a coward, or both.

No has never been hard for him to say.

Except: the cabin is inherited. Except: he was this person, once. Except.

Except.

Except.

Nathaniel sighs, and it's a suffering sigh, an exhausted sigh, a sound which expresses anger and annoyance and also fine, fuck you without so many words. "This is why Outlanders are a bad idea," he says to no one in particular. He's frowning at Adam, though, when he adds, "You all show up needing something and bleed us dry and get killed off, anyway. Half of you have never even handled a shovel in your lives and if we don't help you out, we're the assholes." He pauses to take a breath, clearly annoyed, though less at this particular man and more at the entirety of the circumstance.

"There are empty buildings near the temple," Nathaniel says with a gesture. "Fix one of them up. Learn some fucking skills. I don't have room for anyone who can't even clean up after himself." Shaking his head, he moves off then, prepared to be grabbed and prepared to come back swinging this time. But he makes it maybe two steps before he hesitates, glances back over his shoulder. Doubt is a parasite wringing through his guts. Doubt is that idiot traitor of a memory wriggling between his ears: You were useless once too, Nate.

"You can follow me home," he says, mulish. "I'll make you sleep on the porch with my dog."

As soon as Adam heard the sigh he split into a grin. That noise meant he'd won. He'd broken through the first layer of irritation and gotten right into reluctant acceptance. Now he could really begin the work of making this person like him. Because everyone had to like him. Even if it took him years. A bad idea? "Hey man, I didn't choose to come here, but I intend to stay alive." He said to defend himself, fully knowing that he would never be one of the dead ones. Usually his luck worked out for him when it came to death-defying escapes, and he didn't see it being any different here. He wanted to argue that he did have skills, just not domestic ones; then Nate was turning away. Adam sighed, about to let him go when-- "Hell yeah, you have a dog? What's it called?" He asked, eagerly skipping up to walk next to Nate. He did really like dogs, but one thing was for certain: by the end of the night he wouldn't be on the porch with it. ADAM maybe i'm my own greatest fear maybe i'm too scared to admit that i might not be as dark as i think maybe i'm not the person that i never wanted to be