soft embers

Isla

The beach party had been an unexpected break in the day, and Isla can't deny that she'd enjoyed the sight of so many other Ancients, never having met one before now. And she's able to socialise and make small talk, to eat and drink her fill, even without Sunjata around. (Look at her go, right?)

It doesn't dawn on her until she's making her way down the beach without another set of footprints in the sand beside her, but it's the first time in a very long while that she's not been around the Flood. The realisation is a strange one, Isla preferring not to think too deeply regarding how she feels about it, instead opting, as ever, for the practical.

The sun has started to dip beneath the line of the ocean, painting the water and the sky in dazzing streamers of orange and pink, and Isla is making her own little bonfire to continue the festivities. It's a delight, honestly, not to have to worry about the heat or the fire, and by the time the flames are licking upwards, she's happily settled in the sand to listen to the waves and the thrum of distant voices.

sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything

i thought how your courage would never cease, like the waves of the sea

It’s been a very long, exhausting day, and Sunjata’s perhaps covered up a lot of the time after the hard conversation’s he’s had with quite a bit of free liquor (thanks Danta). It’s only then as he’s scanning the crowd that he realizes that Isla isn’t anywhere to be found at the gathering, but he can spy some footprints that seem fresh, leading away to a bonfire off the beach a little ways away. It’s like a little light goes off in his head and he follows it aimlessly, shoulders loose despite the rest of his body language being relatively tight and close to his chest, and the very slight reddening around his eyes.

The sand is heavy and slick as he steps over toward her, helped very minimally by the liquor in his system, with a bottle in his hand to share with her should she want some more, he’s not as careful as he should be when he promptly sits down beside her in the sand, further away from the fire and sets the bottle in the sand between them, laying flat in the sand as he stares up at the sunset. “That’s th’last time I’m gonna listen to you ‘bout talkin’ to people.” He stumbles over the words, content to remain staring at the streaks of pinks and oranges.

the flood

say it once more, speak to my chest; i wanna bleed all of the words you've said

totally sniped from odd ilu

Isla

As an Ascended Isla would have absolutely heard Sunjata coming long before he actually arrived, but her senses are not what they once were. Not that she'd change it for the world, of course, the Remedy busy listening to the lullaby of waves and trying to figure out who has started a beach barbecue when the Flood is suddenly there. Jumping a little, she shifts to glance down at him as he all but melts onto the sand.

Lips parting to ask what had happened, Isla doesn't actually need to get to the question. The smell of liquor rolling off Sunjata, the bottle between them and the slurred sass is enough to put two and two together. "Ah," she says softly, an apologetic expression wincing across her face, and she shifts to scoot a little closer next to him. "It didn't go to plan, then?"

She doesn't know if he'll want to talk about it, but she's hardly going anywhere either way.

sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything

i thought how your courage would never cease, like the waves of the sea

He doesn’t notice her jump when he finds a place to lay in the still warm sand, staring up at the sky. Her tone is apologetic, but it really isn’t her fault. It’s his, for how long he’d gone without talking or trying to reach out to anyone. And at this moment, he’s trying to be better than returning to that hermit, too afraid to feel anything again – so for now, he numbs it with the alcohol that burns off of him, glancing over toward Isla when she scoots closer to him. He huffs a quiet sigh, unsure how to pick apart everything that had happened.

It takes him a moment of working his jaw, teeth grinding momentarily before he swallows hard. “It did go to plan.” He decides with a heavy sigh, tilting his head to let his gaze focus on her for the moment, completely unmasked. “Just… Hard conversations I should’ve had a long time ago. S’all.” He ends up slurring, before tilting his head back and away from her to watch the sky and the clouds that float aimlessly by. “Talked to Bart and Mel.” Sunjata seems to mumble, unsure if she'd understand based off of who he'd talked to.

the flood

say it once more, speak to my chest; i wanna bleed all of the words you've said

totally sniped from odd ilu

Isla

For once Isla doesn't comment on the way Sunjata is almost definitely going to crack a tooth one of these days, merely sitting and waiting until he's ready to talk - if he even wants to. "I see," she says, smiling sadly to him and reaching out to rest her hand over the back of his own "At least you don't have to have those first conversations again," she points out, not that it makes right now any easier. "Next time should be better."

She assumes, at least, that he's going to want there to be a next time, though as he speaks names she's only vaguely familiar with at best, Isla is left softly shaking her head. "Important to both you and Nate?" she guesses, because it's always the past that rears its head at times like this, she finds. "We can talk it out if you want. Or we can just sit. I don't mind either way."

sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything

i thought how your courage would never cease, like the waves of the sea

He didn’t even really have those first conversations, so torn up and ruined internally that if he thinks about it, he can only recall one person he’d told. Everyone else had found out while he’d hidden himself away trying to think of what came next, because to him for the longest time there was no next. “Maybe.” He decides to stay instead, letting it burrow down inside him amongst the numbing the alcohol provides.

Her next words give him another moment of pause, before he nods in the sand, keeping his hand where it is under her warm palm. “Melita’s my niece. Bart’s Nate’s twin.” And if he didn’t know any better, at a glance all he could see was the Lone Ranger, until he looked a little harder. Even being so up and close to him, there were somethings (an accent mostly) that made him both want to keep Bart talking longer while simultaneously wanting him to say nothing at all.

“Nothin’ really to say. Both of ‘em don’t think I did enough.” Which he agrees with. But he’d reached a point where he simply didn’t know what to do next at all.

the flood

say it once more, speak to my chest; i wanna bleed all of the words you've said

totally sniped from odd ilu

Isla

"His twin," Isla repeats, breathing the word out and shaking her head, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Gods, I am so sorry. I can't even imagine." And suddenly the idea of sending Sunjata off to go and be social feels like a huge mistake, and Isla will probably apologise for it a second time later when the Flood has sobered up.

For now, though, she shifts to lay back in the sand next to him, frowning up at the stars beginning to peep out overhead. "So do they not want to speak to you again?" she asks, turning her head to gaze across at him, though she doesn't expect to see much around the haze of booze. "Either way, I wasn't planning on moving from here until a lot later, so we can just stay, if you like. Or would you prefer to go home?"

sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything

i thought how your courage would never cease, like the waves of the sea

As she repeats the mention of Nate’s twin, Sunjata’s face twitches, his gaze remaining on the clouds for the moment even as she squeezes his hand. “He had his jacket. It was from… A different world, where Bart had outlived Nate. Kept his jacket. The same one I met Nate wearing.” It was the same one that the doctor had let the Flood borrow when he’d been treated from getting sick in his attempts to stop the mud monster from ruining the Fiat Lux event so many years ago.

But he exhales when she speaks again and lays beside him, and he finally tears his gaze away from the sky to look back over at her. “I offered a few of Nate’s things to Melita and one of my own. I want… To try and be better for her. She tried to get me to change my ways when I was too stubborn and stupid to see the things I was doing weren’t going to help. I asked her to join me for dinner in a few days.” Whether or not she’ll show is one thing, but Sunjata would do his best to try and fix their relationship where he could. As for Bart? He doesn’t know how that will go just yet either.

“Think I’m too drunk to get home so I think I’m staying here tonight.” He admits, scanning her face before he gives her hand a soft squeeze back and tilts his head back up toward the darkening sky and the stars above, his gaze hardening as if he’s doing his best to glare at the Lady of the Stars.

the flood

say it once more, speak to my chest; i wanna bleed all of the words you've said

totally sniped from odd ilu

Isla

It's blow after blow for Sunjata, twisting at a knife so embedded that it doesn't feel like anyone should be able to get purchase enough on the blade. But here we are, and the fact that he's only drunk should be a blessing, Isla thinks as his head turns to meet her eyes. "Well that's a good start," she tells him gently, offering a small smile. "But... and I mean this in the kindest way... are you sure you should be cooking?"

It might be funny if the situation weren't so damn tragic. "I don't think I have ever had much of a conversation with Melita," she admits, though she could be wrong - it has been a long time since she's had contact with anyone, let alone anyone who wasn't Sunjata or a fellow Ascended, "but if she's agreed to meet with you, that's good right?"

As for staying on the beach tonight, Isla clearly doesn't mind a bit, and she shifts in the sand to stretch her arms around Sunjata as if the fire isn't quite enough. (It absolutely is). "Then I guess this is home tonight."

sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything

i thought how your courage would never cease, like the waves of the sea

Despite all the dour moments he’s dealt with tonight, Sunjata can’t help but let her slight jab cut through his storm clouds, eyes rolling at it as he huffs a breath that’s as close to a laugh as he can get right now. “I can try. Nate’s left me some recipes that were… Easy for me to make.” He just chose not to make them while he’d started grieving. Perhaps now with the attempts he wants to make, it might hurt less to see his husband’s handwriting.

Or it might hurt a lot and he has to force himself through it in order to make something good out of it. And surely it’s something Melita would like, knowing it came from her favorite of the two of them.

Still, there’s some small amount of surprise at the idea that Isla and Melita hadn’t talked much – though it isn’t like he was keeping tabs on the fiery girl, perhaps if he had and listened to her more, the conversation would have gone better. But hindsight was always twenty-twenty. “I think so. I hope so.” He stumbles over trying to say, despite the end result being the same.

Isla shifts in the sands and Sunjata turns his gaze back to the sky, glaring up at the Safrin he perceives in the stars that glitter out. “Yeah, I guess so.” He rumbles as her arms stretch around him, skin sticky from sweat and his own overheated body. He lifts one arm to wrap around her shoulders as he remains staring at the sky. “Did’ya know that when I betrayed Safrin, the sky had no stars that night?” He asks idly, unsure if he’s ever told her. It was something he’d found out after as well, a jarring, surprised thought the second he’d learned.

the flood

say it once more, speak to my chest; i wanna bleed all of the words you've said

totally sniped from odd ilu

Isla

"Oh? Well, if you want a hand with anything, let me know. We are both pretty terrible at cooking, so maybe between us we'll be able to make something passable." Like the baked fish in the sand - maybe they could just make that again and pass it off as a casual meal, rather than a special occasion that had surprised them both in being so edible.

"Hope is enough for now," she decided with a lopsided smile, letting herself relax tucked up against Sunjata's sky, her head lolling against his shoulder as she gazes up at the spray of constellations overhead. "Oh gods, that was because of you?" With raised eyebrows, Isla peeps back up at him.

"In the Grounds we thought it was the start of another Longnight," she admits. "Everyone was panicking, trying to evacuate to the Temple. I think a few people even prayed to the gods, and when some got answers, then they knew it couldn't have been LongNight."

Still terrifying, though, and that's without considering what Sunjata went through.

sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything

i thought how your courage would never cease, like the waves of the sea

“Gods willing, huh?” Sunjata drawls before he delves into a little history lesson, letting the warmth of her continue to warm his overheated body as he stares at the sky, emotions soothed enough that he huffs a laugh of surprise when she realizes that it was him.

“Guilty.” He slurs in a singsong voice, drawing silent and shifting his head slightly to peer down at her the best he could when she explains how the Grounds had reacted. He makes a low hum in his throat in a nonverbal way of saying “huh” before he shakes his head. “Nope. Was me. Didn’t know it was a night, though, I was with Frey for… Fuckin’ felt like weeks.” He stumbles over the words, brows pinching as he tries to think on it and a physical shudder rips down his spine.

He exhales a long slow sigh. “Days or weeks of burning her outta me.”

the flood

say it once more, speak to my chest; i wanna bleed all of the words you've said

totally sniped from odd ilu

Isla

Brows furrowing, Isla lets the words spill from Sunjata's lips without interruption, and only as he draws quiet does she shift in the sand to lean up on one elbow and gaze down at him. "But you did burn her out of you," she reminds him softly. "She can't make you do anything any more. The only power she has over you is the headspace you give her." Goddess or otherwise, Jata is in a unique position, she feels, in that he's already tethered to another deity.

With a small smile, Isla tilts her head at the Flood. "Unless you feel as though you should have stayed as you were?" Pledged to Safrin, she means. With how everything had ultimately worked out, it's obviously difficult not to imagine other scenarios, ways things might have gone if only different choices had been made.

sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything

i thought how your courage would never cease, like the waves of the sea

His staring glaring contest with the sky and stars is only broken up when Isla’s blonde head of hair comes into view, his steel gaze focusing on her now as his glare softens ever so slightly when he meets her pebble blue stare. “Unfortunately, she gets a lot.” He mutters with a huff of a sigh. “She had my first kid.” Comes the next drunken blunder, and Sunjata seems to sink into the sand all over again as the question reaches him and gives him a moment of pause.

He's a little too drunk to understand the meaning the second it dropped from Isla’s lips, but after a few moments of mulling it over, he shakes his head. “Gods no. She turned me into a spy.” His nose wrinkles, head shaking, before a sigh exhales out of him. “And I saw what she did to Ronin and still fuckin’ thought it’d be different with me.” And it wasn’t. Always the same. Always the heartbreak.

the flood

say it once more, speak to my chest; i wanna bleed all of the words you've said

totally sniped from odd ilu