[Training] (SE) a bottle of dreams

// with each love i cut loose, i was never the same
watching still living roots be consumed by the flame //

A surprise, to get the note from Melita that she’s coming to visit. And with the sun finally coming through, melting the snow that had encompassed much of the region, Sunjata arrives at the meet up place with the items in hand, knowing well enough that she wouldn't want to meet at the House of Midnight. It's a perfect spot, though, windy enough that this should make for flying their kites relatively easy, and with it, the opportunity to also practice training for aerial fighting should the meteorites amount to being something that’s snuck away in the night.

So he arrives with a bright smile, kites in hand, coming up beside Melita with an easy nudge as he sets his bag down by the well (one he seems to pay little mind to). “Hey heuningby.” He greets her before lifting the kites in his other hand. “I brought the kites.” Fashioned perfectly, so he thinks. His own a little black dragon with a set of deep blue wings. The one he’d designed for her, a large bumblebee with bright blue wings that almost in the right light, have the same effect as stained glass.

the flood

// i was fixed on your hand of gold //

bring me your suffering
the rattle roar of broken bones

She never truly gave a reason for visiting; restlessness and boredom were probably not key highlights of a quiet LongNight and a tempestuous, mercurial individual. But they prompted just the same – an urgency gathered in her heart and lungs before they exploded and exuded out in pieces and pockets. She wasn’t without her companions; traversing alongside as they gathered their way from the bizarre crash site nearby, and eyeing everything else in the distance, uncertain and unsure, Melita met with her uncle at the appropriate time and place.

Though she hadn’t expected a well, and on hunches, nosiness, and nothing more but poor impulse control, she gazed over the stony rim, peering down into the void. The void gazed back with absolute nothingness – she wrinkled her nose, before turning to glance at the Storm. “Hey.” The kites distracted her almost immediately, eyes widening slightly at the honeybee one. “Ooh,” she murmured appreciatively, hands grasping in a ‘gimme’ motion. “What the fuck is up with the whole giant hole shit over there?”, nodding in the direction of where meteors had made their point. Perhaps it was wrong to presume Sunjata might've had a hand in it - but drama was drama.

the honeybee

Bring me the riot in your heart
angry, wild, and raw

// with each love i cut loose, i was never the same
watching still living roots be consumed by the flame //

The light shrubbery nearby made for a perfect little spot for Petronella to claim as her little domain, glittering eyes watchful over what might try to enter the bush. Her eyes linger on the companions that arrive with his niece, though Sunjata doesn’t seem to notice any plans or schemes the small sea panther might be creating while he automatically gives into the grasping motion Melita makes to hand her the honeybee kite.

He starts to unravel the dragon kite, peering over the distance in the direction of the meteorite craters and he huffs a small sigh of annoyance. “They passed over during LongNight. Empty, though. I checked it out the second they crashed and found nothing.” His nose wrinkles in distaste, with a lingering sense of whether or not even he fully believed it or not. “I’m not sure if something escaped before I got there.” He’s still imagining a creature with metal plates of sorts in order to have survived such a crash. But alas, here they are, speculating.

the flood

// i was fixed on your hand of gold //

bring me your suffering
the rattle roar of broken bones

If the little sea panther made any plans towards either Fangorn, crafty and a survivalist at heart, or Sila, shy and apprehensive, she’d have hell to pay from their bonded – but for now, Melita was contained by information and kites. She listened to the brief murmur of irritation, brow arching, wondering if the green, vibrant fields had been attacked or something, until the surmise of information. “Huh,” she echoed for a second more, eyes turning and twisting back in that direction again. “How could that be though? What would escape?” Grasps on aerial foundations or things beyond Caido’s atmosphere weren’t right up her alley – not when she’d hopped and transferred through so many worlds.

Especially seconds after. She might’ve chalked it up to ‘god shit’ again, but with Safrin news and everything else that came with, who the fuck knew anymore. Giving over her own pieces of information, minimal at best, she heaved a shrug through her shoulders. “Torchline’s got some high ass waves right now.”

the honeybee

Bring me the riot in your heart
angry, wild, and raw

// with each love i cut loose, i was never the same
watching still living roots be consumed by the flame //

So long as the other companions stay out of the sea panther’s domain, they would be safe from any hidden attacks. The same can’t be said for the fly that slips under the underbrush, pounced on immediately and devoured within a surprising amount of seconds. Sunjata, on the other hand, doesn’t notice the sense of satisfaction from his companion as he focuses on Melita’s question.

“I don’t know. Something that could’ve survived the impact. My guess is something big but nobody has seen anything yet.” And he’s been listening for any rumors surrounding something that fit the part.

He steps away to unfurl the strings of his kite, raising a brow back toward Melita curiously. “That’s strange. It’s not even monsoon season yet.” Close, from what he can remember, but not quite there yet.

the flood

// i was fixed on your hand of gold //

bring me your suffering
the rattle roar of broken bones

Hands played with her kite, toying with the string as she listened, humming under her breath. “Like…an animal or something?” Her top lip drew away from her mouth in a strange snarl, as if she were striving to understand the complexities of such a thing. Helovia didn’t have any crash-landing individuals, and the Rift had been such a clusterfuck of chaos, she wouldn’t have put it past the land – but she’d never been witness to it herself. “Well, I’ll keep an ear out. You’d think it’d be something pretty noticeable,” given the state of the craters.

As for the other weather nonsense, she shrugged her shoulders, beginning to unfurl the string further. “Right? Don’t know what the fuck’s up with that.” With not much else to add about such notions, she moved on. “Anything new with you?”

the honeybee

Bring me the riot in your heart
angry, wild, and raw

// with each love i cut loose, i was never the same
watching still living roots be consumed by the flame //

“Yes.” She was right on the money with where his thought process was going. And much like his own thoughts, it was unlikely they could lose something large enough to make those craters. “That’s why I’m so uncertain about all of it. Nobody has heard or said anything.” He works his jaw before he shakes his head and huffs out a small sigh, replacing the strangeness of it with a softer, almost playful smile. “Well, at any rate I hope the beaches hold up.” He’d spent an entire regional quest with Safrin trying to save Torchline from monsoon season. And from what he’s heard previously, it had held.

As for anything new with him? Much. “Actually, I’m working on getting King’s End livable. There’s plenty of people that come to visit and some that have stayed in the Refuge even after the war. I was thinking about ruling it.” He takes a few steps away to the top of the hill, feeling the gusts of wind as he lets his kite go, watching as it swoops up into the air before his head tilts back to look to her. “So that being said, if you wanted to, you’re more than welcome to come and stay.” They could build a house for her far enough away from the brothel that she’d be comfortable, just as he already plans to build one for himself and Hotaru.

the flood

// i was fixed on your hand of gold //

bring me your suffering
the rattle roar of broken bones

“Maybe it’s something that can disappear,” another sentiment she wouldn’t put past Caido; beginning to untangle a few knots in her string, contemplating and imagining a massive elephant smashing into the ground, and then getting up, walking away, and dissipating into the world as if nothing happened. Snorting at the mental, and somewhat deranged image, she was only half-listening at beaches holding up, still laughing to herself as her kite began to flicker its way into the sky.

While the little bee buzzed about, she finally tuned into what her uncle was saying. Ruling King’s End. She blinked rapidly, thinking maybe she heard wrong, and then the other statement followed, and it took more than a second for everything to catch up to one another. She likely looked like a gaping fish as she stared him down (because good gods why would anyone want to rule, especially again?) and her part in it. “Well, uh,” was a brief stammer, gaze segmenting back to the kite so she had something to steady her eyes on.

“I don’t know,” she eventually murmured. Because Torchline was all she’d known for a long while, where she held her job on the Ark, where purpose had been driven –

And she was restless. Bored.

“Torchline has gotten so dull,” pieced and pierced first. “But what would I do here?” She wanted nothing to do with brothels, which seemed to be the main fixture at the moment.

the honeybee

Bring me the riot in your heart
angry, wild, and raw

// with each love i cut loose, i was never the same
watching still living roots be consumed by the flame //

Her suggestion has his nose wrinkling again and a heavy weary sigh escaping from his chest. “Gods I hope not.” He mutters after a moment, snorting as his attention returns to the kite, watching as the wind picks his up and takes it off above them – a small shape of a dragon soaring above, somewhat erratically in the winds. He watches as hers lifts as well, before he can feel her stare and the way she looks at him agape, and he raises that scarred brow of his as if to say what?

Regardless, it was entire up to her and Sunjata remains silent as he drifts his attention from the kites to his niece, listening to the wariness and the complaints. “It’s still basically wild, so, anything? There’s the Boondocks if you wanted to make your own little outpost. We could fix that up and make a port?” It’s the first suggestion that comes to mind before he shrugs again. “Whatever you want to do, you can. We’ll be building it from the ground up.” No need to deal with previous years of places and shops, buildings to take over. It was a clean slate to start over. “I intend on making a road that connects most of King’s End to each other and had hoped to make a little town in between the Refuge and where the House of Midnight sits. Somewhere in the Barrows.” Far enough away that she would be comfortable.

“But, again, you don’t have to make a decision right now. I just…” He shrugs, trailing off, looking back up at the kite because he’s about to be sentimental and he’s never been good at sharing his feelings (too used to it backfiring on him in his youth). “It’s been great reconnecting and being a part of your life again. And my ultimate goal these days is keeping close to my family.” (What's left of it.) And while yes, that could still happen with her in Torchline, it would be more of this – scheduling visits and catch up times when she could just show up anytime, whenever she pleased. It would be how the house in Torchline should have been, had he not been stupid and ruined everything he had there.

This was his chance to start over, to redo it. To prove to himself that he has changed.

the flood

// i was fixed on your hand of gold //

bring me your suffering
the rattle roar of broken bones

Still finding the suggestion rather hilarious, she laughed, a bright and cheery disposition to unfurl with the rest of the chaotic bliss. Her kite flickered and turned in the wind, vivid and gold against the pocket of sky, and for half a second the Honeybee could simply exist without anything else –

And then there were thoughts.

Boondocks for outposts, that would probably have to be cultivated, altered, and changed. A land and region from the ground up, making its way from the past and all its graves and barrows, funnels of the fallen. Roads to connect and towns to construct, away from the hustle and bustle of Torchline or the Hollowed Ground or anywhere else she might’ve churned and burned on her way through the earth. She fell quiet.

Because Melita would never admit to loneliness, to the way she’d drifted aimlessly over the past few seasons, alone in the house besides her companions. She was used to taking care of herself. Had done so since she was very young, for there’d been no other options. Could raise her chin in defiance to the rest of the world over the most mundane, or the most disparaging. But with the notions of family again, close by, not stranded and strangled and tied off somewhere else, the temptation surged and beat against her impulsive mind.

Even his sentimentality wore at her, which grated as she furrowed her brows, wishing she somehow couldn’t be effected by another’s words. She had very little responsibility, save for one, and so that allowed her the greatest pause. “I’d…I’d have to check with Jack first.”

the honeybee

Bring me the riot in your heart
angry, wild, and raw

// with each love i cut loose, i was never the same
watching still living roots be consumed by the flame //

She draws silent and Sunjata remains just the same – listening to the birds that chatter from far enough away from the sea panther below the shrubbery, letting his mind race waiting for the denial, the answer that perhaps he should have tried harder before now, the anger and frustration over his previous years of taking her for granted. But it doesn’t come – and instead, he watches the kite bob and dip in the sky alongside the bees, surprised enough to let the soft edged smile bloom on his face when she gives her answer.

“Of course.” If there’s something Sunjata understands, it’s that. “I’m sure he knows more about the Boondocks than I do. But if required to make it… uh, usable,” he struggles to find the words, but can remember seeing the bits and pieces of broken ships washing up on the shore the rare few occasions he did, “I’m sure Frey would be willing to help with that.” Just little tidbits of information, before he draws silent to think his next set of words. “Maybe you can strike a deal with Jack and still work for the Ark but in a separate location?” Similarly to how he’d ran multiple businesses for the Devil’s Advocates. Perhaps the Captain wanted to expand in not just the ocean.

Regardless, he shrugs, not wanting to pressure the Honeybee. “There’s no need to rush either way. It won’t get built in a day.” A softer smile is offered toward her before he nudges her with his elbow. “What do you say we use the kites for a little bit of training practice?” He raises a brow, a mischievous grin spreading over where soft sentimentality had sat just seconds before.

the flood

// i was fixed on your hand of gold //

bring me your suffering
the rattle roar of broken bones

There were more considerations and suggestions, as if perhaps he’d been thinking this over for some time, and Melita could only pause, fingers sliding along the kite string. Used to some emboldened purpose, with no real reason for anything other than indulging those capricious whims, the Honeybee was stunned into having to process, think, and mull over a rather life-changing opportunity. Her gilded eyes followed the tracks of the bee and the dragon, puzzled and perplexed, feeling like there was some precipice under her feet now, and for once, she was looking down.

But the pressure seemed off, just an offer on the horizon, and she nodded, swallowing down something she couldn’t quite name. “Uh, yeah. Let me think it over and see what he says too.”

He must have figured she’d need a distraction after that, because the offer caused her head to swing upwards again. “Aww, but I don’t want to ruin it,” pointing solely to her crafted contraption – unbothered if Sunjata’s took on damage.

the honeybee

Bring me the riot in your heart
angry, wild, and raw

// with each love i cut loose, i was never the same
watching still living roots be consumed by the flame //

She’s correct in the thought that he has been thinking about it for a while. Sunjata’s reached a point where he’s realized what’s important to him, and whether or not she wanted to be, she is. But he’s not exactly comfortable moving back to Torchline just yet, and with the need to help people and get his own space built from the ground up, the offer is an incredibly easy one to give her.

In that same vein, she’s welcome to take as long as she needed to figure out what she wanted to do. After all, it isn’t like he’s asking what her favorite flavor of cookie was, he’s asking her to upend her life to move closer and change her goals and day to day. It’s a huge ask, one he’s content with having the worm in her ear for, whether she accepts it or not.

His gaze swings back to the kites and Melita’s pointed finger toward her kite. It was one of the better ones, the second he’d seen it he knew it was like it was made for her. His, on the other hand, incredibly common when he'd spotted the kites in the market stall. “You can keep yours and we can use mine? I don't mind if mine gets damaged, they had at least five other dragons there.” A brow raises playfully, wondering if that would be enough.

the flood

// i was fixed on your hand of gold //

bring me your suffering
the rattle roar of broken bones

With such notions as biding her time, weighing out her opportunities, and actual discussions with employers (who knew maturity was even a thing in her line of existence?), she let the subject matter drop. Though it remained a consistent motion in her mind, and would for some time to come, she wasn’t about to let it consume the moment either.

Not when there was havoc and vehemence to be had.

Eyes flickering back up to Sunjata’s kite, and the potential of damage and mayhem to it, her smile took on a far more distinct and sinister connotation. Devilish and Cheshire, as if eternally poised and ready to strike down something. “Sure,” was the impish acceptance. “Any weapons in particular?” She’d find it much easier to use her bow – but she wasn’t certain of the current parameters, nor what the Flood had in store anymore, what with his demi inclinations.

the honeybee

Bring me the riot in your heart
angry, wild, and raw