[SE] it looks back at you

Isla

It has been a few days since the Festival of Lights, and Isla doesn't know how she's expected to feel. Better? Is this better? And if it is, why doesn't it seem that way? Unsurprisingly, her silence has permeated the Refuge and Sunjata's home and, upon realising that she's been making the place awkward by virtue of merely existing in the space, she (of course) takes herself out.

Fire is deadly for Ascended, but her unexpected roommate will need to keep warm for the Longnight, and so needs must. At least the cold doesn't bother her either, and Isla has loaded up a sled with deadfall and other promising bits of wood to use as fuel, trudging through the snow on her search. The wood will need to be dried and seasoned before it can be burned, of course, but if they start early, it should be ready in time.

Except she's suddenly come across this... wishing well, and Isla doesn't quite know why, but she's frozen (not literally) in her study of it. The snow is starting to fall quite heavily, though, and her footprints will be covered soon enough.

I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard

no one's coming to save you, swing that sword that you made

Things have been a little bit awkward since the Festival of Lights. Not that he blames Isla for it, but the silence is enough that he understands. He relates. So he’s been there when he needed to be but other than that, things mostly returned to normal… Whatever normal was these days.

But there’s a change in it, when he wakes and she’s nowhere to be found. It spurs some small amount of worry within him, one that grows larger and larger as the moments pass. And before too long, he’s bundled up, charging out into the cold to try and search for her.

It feels like it’s taken ages, but it speeds up the second he’s outside of range of the safe haven — shifting to his dragon shift almost immediately, taking to the skies for a better view. And that’s when he finds her, around some strange looking thing like she’s frozen in place, and so the demigod lands with a heavy splash of snow far enough away that he doesn’t impede her, but close enough that Isla would know he was there.

Once he’s within ear shot, he doesn’t know what to say at first, settling on something to hide all of his internal thoughts rather than I didn’t know where you went, or why are you this far out? “Hey.” It’s soft but a lead in, with absolutely nothing to go on from there.

the flood

with the pain that they gave you, like the pain is gonna save you

totally sniped from odd ilu

Isla

Isla starts a bit at the sound of something heavy landing behind her, turning sharply enough that it disturbs some of the snow beginning to settle in her hair and on her shoulders. Blinking, it takes a couple of seconds for her to realise that it's Sunjata, her gloved fingers still loosely holding the rope to pull along her sled, and she offers him a slow smile as he approaches.

"Hey," she says, their voices sounding vaguely muted out here in this blanket of heavy white. "Sorry, I was just..." She glances back at the wishing well, tilting her head at it. "I came out to collect some firewood, and I just kept walking, I suppose. Have you come across this before? It's the first time I've seen anything like it in King's End."

I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard

no one's coming to save you, swing that sword that you made

It’s so quiet, enough that the crunching of the snow beneath his boots sounds like it might echo as he approaches closer, hanging at her side as she speaks and he peers at whatever it was that had captured her attention so fiercely. His head tilts, focusing on it, trying to rack his brain around whether he recognized it, before he shakes his head and steps closer toward it to peer into its depths. It’s dark and he sees nothing as the light fades within it.

“No, I haven’t.” He murmurs softly, not exactly wanting to be the downer today but between his panic from her disappearing before finding her, he bites his tongue against mentioning that he highly doubted the wishing well would work, given that the things he’d wish for would be impossible to get.

So he steps back and casts a glance back over toward her. “I’m rarely out this far these days, though.” So maybe it has always been there?

the flood

with the pain that they gave you, like the pain is gonna save you

totally sniped from odd ilu

Isla

If Isla had known she'd have been a lot more apologetic to begin with, of course; and as for being a downer, she's hardly a ray of sunshine herself today. They can be small splotches in the snow together, maybe. "Maybe somebody from the Refuge built it," she murmurs, unconsciously stepping in his footprints so she can peer down into the depths of the wishing well. She wouldn't get what she wishes for either - and worse, she isn't sure she'd still wish for it any more.

Even the thought has a frown darkening her expression, Isla forcing her shoulders to relax as she peers up at Sunjata. "Did you come out to look for me?" she asks, finally putting two and two together. "I was just... trying to make some preparations for Longnight, I suppose. I thought I should make myself useful. I know I haven't been the best company since the Festival."

I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard

no one's coming to save you, swing that sword that you made

“Maybe.” He agrees, though he isn’t sure why or when. The war was over, why would there need to be a wishing well made now? He’s cynical, though, shrugging off the majority of other questions he has revolving around its existence, biting back any sour comments he might want to make.

She looks up at him, though, and his tired steel meets her pebble blues, and when she speaks he nods, still keeping any prior comments locked behind his teeth. “I didn’t know where you went.” He says quietly, knowing that she hadn’t been the same after the goodbye from Varus at the Festival. He’d given her space and time to work it out, just as much as he had after Nate.

Perhaps that wasn’t what was needed though. And unfortunately, it’s still an event that he’s reeling from, making it difficult for him to put himself forward to make others feel better when he couldn’t even do it for himself. “It’s okay. Neither have I.” Between prepping for the brothel, the continued nightly affair of nightmares, the main difference was that he was at least eating more. “How far have you gotten?” He asks, chin jutting toward the cart she pulls.

the flood

with the pain that they gave you, like the pain is gonna save you

totally sniped from odd ilu

Isla

"Ah," Isla says quietly, not needing whatever remains unsaid between them to know what he means; reaching out to lay a gentle hand on his arm, she gives it an apologetic squeeze. "I didn't mean to worry anyone. I just thought perhaps a change of scenery would get me out of my own head." Glancing back at the well for a second, she shrugs a shoulder. "Not sure how successful I was, to be honest."

As for his being bad company as well, Isla gives him a good-natured nudge with her elbow even if she can't conjure a smile for him. "Misery loves it, or so they say," she mumbles. "And I'm not even sure, honestly. I think the cart is half full, but I probably passed a lot of good timber on the way. I was just... walking. We could grab the rest if you want to walk back with me." It's an offer that Isla doesn't expect to make, and she pauses and gazes down at her feet.

"I didn't expect to still be angry," she admits, almost under her breath. "I should feel peaceful now, right? Having been able to say goodbye?"

I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard

no one's coming to save you, swing that sword that you made

“It’s okay.” He says quickly, even if internally it doesn’t feel okay. It wasn’t her fault – simply just a rearing of the ugly head of his separation anxiety, of his trauma where people left and just… Didn’t come back. Even if there wasn’t a threat around. So he feels like he has to explain it, even if it doesn’t matter and he, in his self pity, imagines she probably doesn’t care that much. “I don’t… Do that well with not knowing.” A shoulder rises and falls in a shrug and he bypasses the thought as quickly as it's come, unable to actually say what he wants to.

He doesn’t know why, but the fact remains. The nudge to his elbow breaks him out of it, though, and his gaze drifts from the strange well toward the Ascended again, breaking his internal train of thought that has him chewing on the inside of his cheek until it’s raw. “I’d like that.” He agrees, turning to pull himself away from the wishing well that sparks up a sour note in his stomach, only pausing as she continues quietly – the only solace being the golden earring in his ear that allows him to hear her whisper under her breath.

“Yes and no.” He says softly, reaching up to tug the scarf around his neck. “There’s no… Set way to grieve, you know? They say there’s those five stages but they rarely go in that exact order. Getting to say goodbye just brought it all back to the start.” So it would take time, and she’d likely have to go through it all again. But the difference this time around is that she isn’t alone to deal with it.

And besides, if it had been him? Well, he’d likely have been thrown asunder again, reverting hard into the past year.

the flood

with the pain that they gave you, like the pain is gonna save you

totally sniped from odd ilu

Isla

"If I go out again I'll make sure to leave a note," Isla murmurs, and although it sounds perfunctory, she means it, trying to crack herself out of her reverie enough to be present with Sunjata. Nodding to hear he's happy to walk back with her, Isla shifts her feet in the snow as if to get moving, but she can't seem to muster the energy, especially as the subject of Varus rears its head.

Letting out a shivery sigh, she bows her head sadly and rubs at her forehead. "After over a year it felt like I had barely made progress, and to have it knocked back to the beginning..." Shaking her head around words her throat is too tight to say, Isla instead trudges forward suddenly, right up to the lip of the wishing well - and spits into it.

"That's where wishes get you," she mutters, swiping at her eyes and turning back towards Sunjata. "Let's go?" she asks - pleas, almost. "Sometimes I wish I could feel the cold or get drunk, just to feel something. But adding all that on top of the emotions is probably a recipe for disaster."

I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard

no one's coming to save you, swing that sword that you made

“Thank you.” Sunjata responds gently, not wanting it to seem like he needs it as desperately as he does, not wanting her to have to change how she did things, especially as they start to figure it out again, but knowing that it would help him at least.

He shuffles his feet to start moving back toward the cart when her words distract him, his head tilting back toward her as he listens, working his jaw as she stomps over to the well and spits in it, a feat he wishes he’d thought of too. “You’re not alone, this time.” He offers quietly, extending a hand as she continues, wishing to feel.

A few thoughts run through his mind and he isn’t sure which to offer first, but he understands her desire for it. “Have you thought about becoming Ancient?” If she wanted to process it, that is.

the flood

with the pain that they gave you, like the pain is gonna save you

totally sniped from odd ilu

Isla

Sniffing and reaching out for Sunjata, Isla takes his hand silently, shifting to walk closer with him as they head back towards her half-filled sled. "Thank you," she mumbles, trying on a smile as she peers up at him, though it's a flimsy attempt at best. "And you aren't, either," she adds, glancing skywards at the still falling snow. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

Once they reach the sled, it's with reluctance that Isla releases Sunjata's hand, taking up the sled rope again to give it a tug and get it moving. She pauses, though, at his question, her brow furrowing as she considers it. "At the beginning I knew it would be a bad idea," she murmurs. "After Varus, having all of... that... it would be too much. I'm worried it still might be. There's some advantage to not having to worry about sleep or food or pain, you know?"

I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard

no one's coming to save you, swing that sword that you made

There’s a soft breath that slips from his lips at her apology, his shoulder rising and falling in a small shrug, casting his steel gaze over toward her as she looks to the sky. “It’s okay.” He hadn’t expected to worry so much in the first place, and yet here they were. Here he was, worried enough to search for her and make sure nothing had happened.

Not that he thinks that anything would happen from an outside force now that the war was over. But that’s beside the point.

His suggestion, though, is contemplated while she grabs the rope to the sled and he wonders whether he should offer to pull it, when she responds. “There is an advantage.” He agrees – how often had he gone trying to numb it out? But the whole point was that he could. “There’s also a disadvantage with not being able to sleep it through or having your favorite comfort food.” He steps over to take the rope from her instead of asking and flashes her a small smile. “Pros and cons to both, I suppose.”

Even with the hell he’d gone through, the pain was part of what made it feel real.

the flood

with the pain that they gave you, like the pain is gonna save you

totally sniped from odd ilu

Isla

It doesn't feel okay, based on his dropping from the sky as a dragon, but Isla is willing to take his word for it today, and she's just tugging the sled forward through the snowfall when Sunjata promptly relieves her of it. She doesn't remark so much as she reaches up to gently pinch his cheek in admonishment, the medic choosing not to snag it back, but she does keep an eye out for any firewood instead.

The mention of pros and cons has Isla frowning out into the semi-blizzard before them, as if the haze of white will hold any answers for her. "Honestly, I don't remember what it's like to properly sleep, any more. I don't even know what my comfort food would be, it's been so long." And she laughs, because if she doesn't she'll realise how empty a life that is, how much of a shell of a person she's become.

"Would you do it, if you were me?" she asks suddenly, glancing back up at him. "Become an Ancient, I mean."

I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard

no one's coming to save you, swing that sword that you made

He pulls the sled along, boots crunching in the snow as he offers the pros and cons that could be when it came to being able to feel. Somehow, he doesn’t expect it to resonate with him – so used to numbing it all so he doesn’t have to, yet still too attached to the feeling like it’s something he deserves for the things he’s done. So he doesn’t know what to say, truthfully, and he draws silent aside from the quiet little hums offered to her to ensure she knew that he was listening.

“Maybe a chance to learn them again.” He offers quietly, though it seems like his mind is elsewhere for a moment, distant as he tries to figure out how to explain the feeling in his gut that’s still both uncomfortable and relieved. So much so that he’s surprised when she turns the question onto him, stilling in the snow with a slip that he regains his balance with surprisingly well for someone as tall as him.

His thumb runs along the rough fiber of the rope as he contemplates it, wanting to be sure he gives her a proper, thought through answer rather than his impulsive ones he’s so prone to. “I think… It would depend. It’s no secret that literally every one of my coping mechanisms is useless as an Ascended, for that fact alone, I probably would if I thought it would help.” He shrugs, but does manage to offer her a small smile, one that twists his scar a fraction. “But my coping mechanisms aren’t the same as yours. I don’t know if it would help you. But at least it could give you options." He shrugs lightly, before he pulls on the rope again to take a step or two closer.

the flood

with the pain that they gave you, like the pain is gonna save you

totally sniped from odd ilu