(SE) wear your silver lining

i was raised as a scorpion
being pulled by the moon in a high tide

While her woes might seem trivial to her in comparison to the trauma Sunjata has endured, it’s something that Sunjata doesn’t diminish her feelings on. Yes, he’s suffered more than the average person when it comes to love and his life, no that doesn’t mean that anyone else can’t have feelings that feel just as bad. He’s smart enough to realize that while he could return back to his brooding, wallowing self, that it does little good. And the things he went through he doesn’t wish for anyone else to endure.

So the smile he offers Sohalia in return is a softer one, crooked as always with the scar, but gentle nonetheless as they weave their way through the crowds. “The fact that you’re aware you should be trying to separate them is a good sign.” He offers, a small amount of sage advice. “I couldn’t keep my Governing life and personal life separate in Torchline after my father showed up to undermine me. So I promoted Nate alongside me so that there would be someone else there to help make clear decisions and so that I wasn't alone in dealing with my personal problems.” A casual shrug. Sometimes, having multiple people at the helm helped when one couldn’t give it their all.

It wasn’t his fault Safrin hated Nate enough to make them both step down. If she didn’t, perhaps they’d have ruled Torchline until the very second the war started. But, nobody could say, and Safrin was gone, and Sunjata swore his oath to Frey now. And now, with eyes set on the prize of King’s End, perhaps he can slip back into that comfortable groove, the one he was raised for.

the flood

that's why i'm broken, yeah,
am i a villain or a saint?

Cheer up and dry your damp eyes and tell me when it rains
And I'll blend up that rainbow above you and shoot it through your veins

Sohalia would never have described herself as brooding or wallowing, but that was essentially what she'd been doing of late. Oh, sure, she saw to her leadership duties and she went about her business as usual - but always with a sense of depression looming over her head. For someone who was usually so bright and cheerful, the stark contrast of her behavior lately was astonishing.

She listened to his advice with some relief. He seemed to think that she was doing alright, and maybe that was what mattered most - that she appeared to be succeeding. Of course, it was important that she actually accomplish things, but she was a creature who craved external validation. Receiving it, even from someone from outside of her region, was enough to boost her mood incrementally. "I wouldn't mind a co-ruler," she agreed. "But I haven't yet come across someone who would be willing. Maybe one day."

the Luminary

'Cause your heart has a lack of colour and we should've known
That we'd grow up sooner or later 'cause we wasted all our free time alone

code stolen from sky who stole it from odd

i was raised as a scorpion
being pulled by the moon in a high tide

If anyone had said that ruling a region was easy. Sunjata would certainly question whether or not they even knew how to rule. It was arduous, difficult, and often thankless, but Sunjata had learned long ago to not expect praise for it. A fact that makes him still just as awkward when he does receive it, unsure how to respond in the face of it. But the love of it is there, Sunjata choosing to do it yet again when it comes to King’s End, to have another hold of power, to relish in it as he often craved once again.

The walk remains easy, though, as he offers his advice, unsure how much she might actively use. So when she agrees on the idea of a co-ruler without having someone in mind, his broad tattooed shoulder shrugs lightly as he flashes Soh a small smile. “Certainly take your time. When you give someone that much power, they have just as much of it to oust you as you do them. Make sure it’s a right and good fit.”

the flood

that's why i'm broken, yeah,
am i a villain or a saint?

Cheer up and dry your damp eyes and tell me when it rains
And I'll blend up that rainbow above you and shoot it through your veins

The young woman was many things, and one of them was naive. However much she'd thought about having a co-ruler, wondering if it would make things easier or harder, she'd never once considered that they might usurp her own position. A faint blush mantled her cheeks as she realized once again just how little she knew of the world. She was young, and dumb, and trusting - and yet, so far, she had found no reason not to be. Perhaps it would be a lesson that came too late. For now, though, she could only take Sunjata's advice and tuck it away for consideration at another time. After all, it hardly mattered if someone sought to oust her or not if there wasn't even a someone to consider.

So she nodded, smiling up at her friend. And then they were at the Eye of the Storm, the natural hot springs that lay between the Silk Houses and the Celestine. On this particular day, there were few visitors to the springs, and so Sunjata and Sohalia had the run of the place. "Here we are," Soh said cheerfully. "What do you think?"

the Luminary

'Cause your heart has a lack of colour and we should've known
That we'd grow up sooner or later 'cause we wasted all our free time alone

code stolen from sky who stole it from odd

i was raised as a scorpion
being pulled by the moon in a high tide

He hopes it’s nothing that she has to deal with, but for Sunjata it was a constant threat – one that reached an utmost pivotal point when his father had arrived to undermine him, blaming him for the crimes that had been committed against the citizens he ruled. And so, it became things that he needed to think about – things that he couldn’t make plans without thinking about.

But all those thoughts die off the second they arrive at their destination, the Flood’s steel gaze taking in the scene for what it was, the steam rising from the warm temperatures of the hot springs and the way very few people flit about here and there. A grin forms on his face as he turns back to Sohalia, a bright look to his otherwise silently stressed and brooding appearance. “Looks cozy.” His accented voice crosses the air between them, before he gestures for her to follow him in, looking forward to soaking somewhat sore joints. “What're we waiting for?”

Without much else other than his own quiet awe, Sunjata makes quick work of letting Petronella dive right in while he gets ready, borrowing a pair of swim trunks from the little building beside it, returning with nothing else but that, for once not worried about how all of his scars might be taken in by the Stormbreak citizens. Scars of which Sohalia hasn’t seen yet, either, notably the crescent shaped shark bite scars that litter his legs and up to his hips, the lightning scars on his arm that drift up and cross along his chest like thin fingers reaching for his heart, the jagged NW carved in underneath his heart, and a littering of other little scars here and there. The tattoos are on full display now, too, the compass and feathers on his shoulders that rarely get seen fully these days, she’ll see they dip along his shoulder blades and down his back, and on the front an arrow with fire that crosses his heart.

But, with nothing else stopping him, he slips into the hot springs with such grace and ease that his moniker just makes sense with how well he takes to the water.

the flood

that's why i'm broken, yeah,
am i a villain or a saint?

Cheer up and dry your damp eyes and tell me when it rains
And I'll blend up that rainbow above you and shoot it through your veins

Sohalia shared a grin with her friend as they momentarily parted ways to change into gear more suited to the hot springs. She emerged a beat after Sunjata, her clothes left in a neat pile behind her, her golden hair piled in a knot atop her head. She tried not to stare at the scars littering Jata's body, focusing instead on the tattoos, wondering what they meant.

Her own skin was not as pristine as it had been upon their first meeting: a long, cruel burn scar wound its way from her right hip up to her neck, and it was on full display as she slipped into the warm water. She tried not to be self-conscious - after all, she'd earned her scar in defense of Stormbreak - but it was rare that anyone saw the full extent of it.

She was not ashamed, but it felt strange all the same.

"What do your tattoos mean?" she asked, lowering herself into the warm waters with a happy sigh.

the Luminary

'Cause your heart has a lack of colour and we should've known
That we'd grow up sooner or later 'cause we wasted all our free time alone

code stolen from sky who stole it from odd

i was raised as a scorpion
being pulled by the moon in a high tide

Scars, in Korofi, had been a symbol. They were essentially worn as trophies, and Sunjata had been conditioned from a young age that each and every scar that littered his body was part of the story of his life. He’d been offered to get them removed, and while he’d kept nearly all of them for that very same reason, there was only one that had been wiped clean from his slate – the one from his marriage with Phoebe.

Tattoos on the other hand, were very much looked down upon in Korofi. It was one of the first ways the Flood had rebelled against his family and the societal norms of his upbringing, choosing to mark his skin with far more visible adornments. So as she settles into he hot springs and Sunjata follows suit, taking note of the burn scar and not commenting on it just yet (not quite realizing that she might be self conscious of it when Sunjata stood there with scars of practically being flayed alive.

Her question is met with a softer smile, one that has him sitting up a little to show her the first set, which requires turning around so she can see his back and the full extend of the wings that extend down his shoulders and shoulder blades. “The wings were my first tattoo. I got them when I joined the rebellion back home. I thought it a fitting tribute to say I’d gained my wings out from under my father’s watch.” He shrugs lightly, turning back to face her so that the compasses nestled in against his neck point their northern point at Sohalia, a wet hand reaching up to point at each one. “I got these after… Lusea died. My first girlfriend. She was in the rebellion too and I always oriented myself toward her, so the northern spike of the compass I had it so it would always point in front of me.”

The rest though, his hand lowers down toward his chest, to the fiery arrow that takes up a spot on his peck, head tilting down toward it. “I got this one for her too. She was the Fire to my Flood. She’s why I named the bar in the Grounds the VlamVloed. It means fire and flood in Korofi.” Then, his dominant hand, the one with all the lightning scars and absent of tattoos gestures to the sleeve on his arm, of water and stars. “This one was for Safrin, hence the stars. She even finished up my other arm and made the stars within them move.” His tone takes on a little nostalgic hum before he shakes himself out of it. “But when Frey cleansed me of her, the other sleeve departed and so did the magic, and left me with just this reminder.” Which as he stares at it, debates whether or not to get it fixed.

His gaze lifts back to her after a moment with a small lopsided smile. “A better story is how I got all these scars.” An opening in case she wished to ask.

the flood

that's why i'm broken, yeah,
am i a villain or a saint?

Cheer up and dry your damp eyes and tell me when it rains
And I'll blend up that rainbow above you and shoot it through your veins

Sunjata sitting to show off his tattoos was like a signal that it was okay for Sohalia to look without being rude, and so she watched as he half-rose from the water to show them off. First was a set of wings that stretched across his back, a fuck-you to his father, apparently. Then came the compasses at his neck, a tribute to a lost love, and the fiery arrow on his chest for the same woman. At Safrin's tattoo, Sohalia winced; it was. a beautiful piece, of course, but she was sure that the memories it held for her friend were less than ideal.

She was transfixed by the artwork, by the symbolism of it all. She'd never considered a tattoo for herself before, but there was something about looking at pieces of Sunjata's life memorialized upon his flesh that made her wonder if maybe, someday, she might get one for herself. Maybe something symbolizing Stormbreak and the role that she played within it.

As Sunjata mentioned his scars, Soh shook herself from her stupor and met her friends' gaze again. "You do have a lot," she agreed, a frown pinching her brow. She thought of her own - the split eyebrow and the burn that coiled across her side and up her neck - and shuddered. She supposed that scars told their own story, and in a way that wasn't decided by the wearer. She much preferred the tattoos. "Do they bother you? The scars?"

the Luminary

'Cause your heart has a lack of colour and we should've known
That we'd grow up sooner or later 'cause we wasted all our free time alone

code stolen from sky who stole it from odd

i was raised as a scorpion
being pulled by the moon in a high tide

It wasn’t ideal, of course. But the fact was that it wasn’t that different from the scars that littered his body – each with a memory associated with it that proved to him how far he had come. He had lived under Safrin’s thumb for so long that when he’d demiid for Frey it had been taken as such a terrible slight that the sky lost its stars for the night. And if that was any signal that he was someone once upon a time, well, he can live with the memories of such events.

As for the scars, as he sinks down into the warm heat of the hotsprings again and his attention finds Sohalia once more, his lips twist in a small soft smile, nostalgia hitting in ways he doesn’t quite know how to explain. Whether or not they bother him, though, his head shakes immediately to say no. “They don’t.” He begins, lifting his lightning scarred hand to peer at the raised pale lines that decorate his skin. “Where I’m from, scars were like… Trophies. They were encouraged. The more you had, the more you had endured. It was like a warning to others.” He pauses slightly. “There are a few, of course, that have less than ideal memories, but none that I would change or get rid of.” Lifting that lightning scarred hand to his face, gesturing to the half glasgow smile that curls into his face, Sunjata finds Sohalia’s gaze again.

“This one, for example, was from my father when we fought in Torchline. I endured, nearly drowned, but won my fight with him. And while it can be a large pain in the ass sometimes, it reminds me of what I did accomplish.” And therefore, the Flood keeps the memory with the scar.

the flood

that's why i'm broken, yeah,
am i a villain or a saint?

Cheer up and dry your damp eyes and tell me when it rains
And I'll blend up that rainbow above you and shoot it through your veins

She'd never considered that scars could be viewed that way, and she listened attentively as Sunjata explained. Perhaps it had been her vanity, but she'd been less than pleased to have been marked by the man who'd once attacked her and then the Mothman that had attacked the Spyglass. To her, the memories were just things she'd rather not think about, not things to be proud of.

But as Sunjata explained his scars, Soh began to think about her own in a different way. She reached up without thinking to touch the base of her neck, where the burn mark twisted up from under the water. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all. "I never thought about it that way before," she said thoughtfully, leaning her head back against the edge of the pool. "It sounds very different, where you're from. Do you miss it?"

the Luminary

'Cause your heart has a lack of colour and we should've known
That we'd grow up sooner or later 'cause we wasted all our free time alone

code stolen from sky who stole it from odd

i was raised as a scorpion
being pulled by the moon in a high tide

In some instances, he can understand the self consciousness – recalling a time when Nate had been attacked in Torchline, the dark black scar bisecting his face and destroying one of his eyes. In that case, it had been both physically altering and traumatic, but eventually his husband had started to embrace the mark rather than hide away, a haughty little you’ll have to try harder than that to keep me down becoming the new mantra to live by.

And he’s equally as familiar with it, when it comes to his own scars. “I miss parts of it.” Sunjata admits, his nostalgic smile remaining as he thinks about Korofi. A space full of newer technology than this place would ever dream of. It was littered with high rises and offices, restaurants, alongside a unified police force and the common gang and rebellion outbreaks. “I mostly miss the food.” He finally says with a soft laugh – recalling the greasiest hamburgers, the most delicious of specialty fries.

the flood

that's why i'm broken, yeah,
am i a villain or a saint?

Cheer up and dry your damp eyes and tell me when it rains
And I'll blend up that rainbow above you and shoot it through your veins

Soh had never really considered the plight of the Outlanders, having been so young when they started arriving that it had never occurred to her where they came from. Oh, sure, she might have wondered about the worlds beyond theirs, but she hadn't yet known to ask about their pain, about their nostalgia and wistfulness and grief. Caido might be all she had ever known, but there was so much more out there. And the Outlanders knew it, even if they were now trapped here.

"The food?" she repeated with a soft laugh of her own. "Was it really so different?" It was hard to imagine anything but what they had here. And there were so many varieties of food on Caido. Soh tilted her head to one side. "Could it be replicated here?" she asked, her brow furrowing. "We could stop by the market on the way home."

the Luminary

'Cause your heart has a lack of colour and we should've known
That we'd grow up sooner or later 'cause we wasted all our free time alone

code stolen from sky who stole it from odd

i was raised as a scorpion
being pulled by the moon in a high tide

“The food.” Sunjata reiterates, a soft air of a nostalgic sigh slipping from him as he dips further into the hot springs, letting it loosen the tension in his tattooed shoulders. “We had more technology where I was from so it made it easier to make more… Mass produced things. Could barely go anywhere and get something made for you.” He shrugs lightly, casting his gaze back onto Sohalia as she asks if it can be replicated and he wonders just how he’s never really tried to just make a greasy diner burger.

His brows pinch as he snorts, contemplating. “Nate and I tried to make something, once. I think all the ingredients are around, we could certainly try.” And it might be fun, provided they don’t burn everything down in their attempt to make it. “I will warn you, though, I’m no cook.” He’d been learning and practicing, but for the most part he was still terrible.

the flood

that's why i'm broken, yeah,
am i a villain or a saint?

Cheer up and dry your damp eyes and tell me when it rains
And I'll blend up that rainbow above you and shoot it through your veins

Soh listened with a tilted head, trying to imagine a world other than this one. She had so many questions: what kind of technology? Was there anything he'd tried to recreate? Anything that might be useful in this world? But she listened quietly, not interrupting, enjoying the warmth of the hot springs as she relaxed against the edge of the pool.

"It sounds fascinating," she said with a small smile. As far as she knew, things weren't produced en masse here, at least not for those without some kind of creation magic to help things along. What would it have been like, to have products available at the tips of one's fingers, at a moment's notice?

As for food, she shrugged. "I can cook," she said. "I'm no master chef, by any stretch, but we could try? If you wanted?" At the very least, she was confident in her ability not to burn anything to ashes. They'd just need to identify the ingredients, then follow whatever memories Sunjata had of how to make the items in question...

the Luminary

'Cause your heart has a lack of colour and we should've known
That we'd grow up sooner or later 'cause we wasted all our free time alone

code stolen from sky who stole it from odd