everybody wants to be my enemy

RONIN

THE DARK STAR

It isn't often that Ronin finds himself able to meander through a marketplace like a (gods forbid) ordinary person. Trading in Stormbreak is basically non-existant for him, given that he's the Commander, and so sometimes it's kind of nice to haggle and barter and do the things he used to do. Things that feel like they belonged to a much younger man.

Nevertheless, in a jacket that seems like it should be out of place but isn't, given the strange weather in Torchline this season, Ronin is at a stall to look through some colourful fabrics. Quite what he's looking for is anybody's guess, but he's wholly absorbed in the task. Leaning down, he reaches for one patterned in reds and golds, hoping to hold it up to see it in more detail.

now don’t you lose hope

I swear I never dream that we’re alone

I swear I still believe but I don’t know

// i'm pedal to the metal make no mistake, this is my pity party, pity party
and i'm living out of time, eternal heatstroke, spiritual revolt from the waist down //

She tells herself it’s a quick trip, gathering a few things that only Torchline had. And so she arrives, perusing the market for trinkets and the like that she might be able to bring home and stockpile in her hoard of a house that she’s been cooped up for the majority of time since she’d moved from Halo back into the Grounds. To be honest, she should know better than to assume she’d not run into any familiar faces despite the region she finds herself in, but she’s naïve in the way she flits about, searching for things here and there, ignoring virtually everyone else that surrounds her.

It's that which causes her to bump into Ronin as she tries to avoid getting ran into herself by the crowd parting for a cart that pulls through, a little hissed out “fuckers,” that she grumbles about under her breath. She half turns to Ronin, not exactly looking at him, but enough in his direction to mutter her apology. “Sorry.” Before the harpy gets side tracked on a particularly brilliant gold and red set of fabrics that draws her like a moth to flame.

i'm just a full tank away from freedom. spitfire

KIADA

RONIN

THE DARK STAR

"Oop--" comes Ronin's elegant response as he's unceremoniously bonked into; the Huntsman might be a sheer wall of muscle these days, but even walls topple when they're off balance, and he wobbles a bit as he steps back to make room for her. "Oh, it's alright. I was probably in the..." Blinking as he realises he recognises the voice, Ronin is smiling despite himself, even if it's an expression tinged with sadness.

"Hello, Kiada," he murmurs, taking another step away from her in case she wants to hurl pitchforks and torches a few more choice words his way. "It has been a while." Draping out the fabric as if trying to decide whether it would do, Ronin bites at the inside of his cheek and glances over the other colours. Maybe this one is too garish for his plans.

now don’t you lose hope

I swear I never dream that we’re alone

I swear I still believe but I don’t know

// i'm pedal to the metal make no mistake, this is my pity party, pity party
and i'm living out of time, eternal heatstroke, spiritual revolt from the waist down //

His voice is what gives him away and Kiada freezes upon hearing it, as she steps toward the siren’s song of that gold and red fabric. It’s almost as if she anticipates getting attacked immediately upon who she is these days, but the words are kind and gentle and she’s uncertain as she turns like she’s been frozen on ice for a century – wondering if it’s some false sense of security before all hell breaks loose.

But she knows Ronin (at least she did), back when he’d given her the Monster Hunter’s Guild, back when he’d just had Aoife and things were bleak then. Back when he was a different man and she was something else entirely. So she tries to relax, but that unnatural stillness takes over her appearance as she casts her iceberg gaze onto Ronin, flicking down to the fabric he has draped out. “Ronin, it has.” She pauses, as if unsure what to say – it’s like meeting an old family member you’d heard so much about but barely had any connection to. It’s awkward, and she doesn’t know where to even begin. “How have you been?” She asks, her gaze lifting to his face as if to figure out what his reaction might be to the question, whether it was pleasantries enough to keep her standing there.

i'm just a full tank away from freedom. spitfire

KIADA

RONIN

THE DARK STAR

It's as if things will be just fine, frozen in time or suspended in a place where war isn't happening, where they aren't opposed in every way that apparently counts, just as long as Ronin's eyes remain on the stall's wares.

"So-so," he murmurs in terms of how he's been; ups and downs, Ascended destroying The Tower in Stormbreak so he's had to put something in place which means Kiada would die if she sets foot there, hunting relics from monstrous beings in preparation for a war where they stand on opposite sides... you know. The usual. "You know how it is."

He imagines she does, anyway. "How about you?" And then, jerkily almost, as if he can keep things from imploding by taking the focus away from either of them, "What do you think of this? I am planning something for Remi. I was going to decorate some trees in the woods."

now don’t you lose hope

I swear I never dream that we’re alone

I swear I still believe but I don’t know

// i'm pedal to the metal make no mistake, this is my pity party, pity party
and i'm living out of time, eternal heatstroke, spiritual revolt from the waist down //

Oh, she does know how it is. She’s been uprooted – moving from Halo to the Grounds in order to provide herself more safety – because of a coup that had taken out the Ascended friendly Warden and replaced with Noah, a Vi demigod who Kiada doesn’t trust to not want her dead eventually if the time came. Sure, she could trust that Deimos would try and protect her at all costs… But if he wasn’t around, if something happened, she didn’t want to go back into that restless dark again too soon.

“The same. I don’t live in Halo anymore, if that’s any indication.” She offers with a small shrug, noticing the way his attention remains away, feeling bolder because of it and it allows her a few seconds to snatch that fabric and return, stepping a bit closer to him to inspect the fabric he asks about. “Are you searching for a beacon or something… More homey?” She asks, raising a brow at the gaudy colors. Not like she can say much with the gold and red fabric draped over her arm.

i'm just a full tank away from freedom. spitfire

KIADA

RONIN

THE DARK STAR

Ronin winces and nods, because he understands all the things she doesn't say when it comes to Halo and everything that has taken place there. The world is getting smaller for the Ascended, and not necessarily because they've discovered all of it. No, they're just not able to comfortably live in as many places any more.

Letting out a long sigh, he lets his eyes flicker to her very briefly as she draws closer. He doesn't expect her to try to slip a knife between his ribs, but what he expects to happen doesn't really matter any more. It seems to happen regardless. When it's just a continued discussion around fabric, though... that's safe, at least.

"Well, I wanted it to stand out from the greens and browns from the trees," he murmurs. "But this seems a bit... too bright. Maybe a darker red...?"

now don’t you lose hope

I swear I never dream that we’re alone

I swear I still believe but I don’t know

// i'm pedal to the metal make no mistake, this is my pity party, pity party
and i'm living out of time, eternal heatstroke, spiritual revolt from the waist down //

She remains standing there, staring at the fabric, before tentatively reaching out and poking and prodding at a deep scarlet red with little accents of copper-esque leaf-like filigree, loosening an unnecessary breath at the fact that the subject shifts and he comments no further on the topic of Halo just as she comments no further on the state of the war and the sides they’re on.

She can pretend for a little longer she thinks. So she pulls that one forward, head tilting as she considers it. “The pattern here could match the leaves maybe, but still be bright enough to be noticed yet dark enough to not be a beacon.” She murmurs, before shrugging and withdrawing a pale hand, tucking it under the bright fabric she’d picked for herself.

i'm just a full tank away from freedom. spitfire

KIADA

RONIN

THE DARK STAR

Pretending is the flavour of the day, and it's easy because it's supposed to be easy between them. They've spoken before, discussed before, on friendly terms and with jovial conversation. And it's with a pit in his stomach that Ronin swallows that reminder back, nodding and tilting his head at the fabric she suggests. Abandoning the garish scarlet to retrieve this one instead, he holds it aloft and seems pleased by the change.

"This will work great," he says, smiling at the cloth because he doesn't trust himself to smile at Kiada. "Thanks. You always did have a good eye," he murmurs, carefully folding the fabric to drape it over his arm. "It was good to see you, Kiada." In a different time and a different life, this is where he'd offer for them to go for a drink and a proper catch up. Alas, it's not to be.

now don’t you lose hope

I swear I never dream that we’re alone

I swear I still believe but I don’t know

// i'm pedal to the metal make no mistake, this is my pity party, pity party
and i'm living out of time, eternal heatstroke, spiritual revolt from the waist down //

Somehow, for some reason, she expects him to ignore her suggestion – she doesn’t know why, it isn’t like he’s done it before. But it still bothers her somehow. So it’s with clear surprise that he accepts it, abandoning the one that he’d chosen in order to take the one she’d suggested, agreeing and smiling at it even when she knows it might have been a smile of gratitude for her instead. “I wanted to be a crafter when I was younger.” Before she’d had to become a warrior and a fighter, wreathed in flame and succumbing to it, before being reborn again.

But she dips her head in his peripheral as if to accept the thanks anyway, turning to the merchant to barter for the fabric she’s chosen before she murmurs her soft. “It was good to see you too, Ronin. I wish things were different.” Cordial but truthful, and when she has the fabric she’s picked in hand, she darts between the shade of the market to head back toward the portal now that she’s gotten what she’d came here for.

- FIN <333

i'm just a full tank away from freedom. spitfire

KIADA