[SE] Totally tubular

Caido was finally heating up again, and it was none too soon. There was no better place to spend the dreary months of Deepfrost than warm and snug in a lightly bubbling lava hot tub under the lovely winter sky of the Climb, where the constant drift of sparks danced like constantly dying stars against the ashen firmament.

But the Climb was far too quiet in these modern times. There were few travelers and not nearly enough mischief to be had, much less generalized mayhem; and even worse there was no audience for it.

And Zef? Zef was bored out of her fucking mind.

Flowerbirth meant freedom, and what better place to celebrate stretching her wings a bit than a little vacation in sunny, balmy Torchline?

Especially when the waves this season were so spectacularly killer.

"Oops!" came the not-very-sincere apology as her board cut in front of another surfer riding the crest of a particularly sick nug and he weaved in an increasing panic before tumbling into the rough waters. Zefira's grin was as sharp and wicked as a rock serpent's tooth as she dropped in to the barrel and shot forward, leaning to the nose of her board in a wild race that finished as the wave crashed into the shallows and the spray finally overtook her. She tumbled off and into the knee-deep water, rising with wild laughter in her throat as she grabbed her board and trotted up to the beach to grab a fruity drink before her next run.

Open!

You know, there are some who would argue that Ronin Taliesin is a fruity drink, but the less said about those types of people, the better.

Alas, the Nova isn't on any sort of a vacation this time around, and he finds himself on Torchline's beaches in a light jacket, brows furrowed at the unusually high waves. Having lived in Torchline for a fair stretch of time, it's safe to say that he's never known the weather to be this crazy - especially since the islands have become protected from the monsoons.

Beneath the sleeve of his jacket, Safrin's bracelet feels too heavy, too present.

Blinking himself out of his reverie, he's just in time to manage to skedaddle out of the way of a surfer marching up the beach, Ronin offering her a polite nod and a smile. At least some people are enjoying themselves.

Zef might have been on a mission, but she hadn't gotten where she was in life (Torchline, today) by not pausing to enjoy a short, handsome drink of water. The man was was attractive in a different way than Danta-dearest - who'd apparently run off to some cold, dreary little mudpit on the other side of the world for Deepfrost, daft creature - dark and intense, with a jawline that could cut rubies and eyes that had seen too much.

The tall, muscular ancient momentarily halted her pursuit of merely liquid pleasure to look Ronin up and down appraisingly before giving a low whistle of appreciation. "What's a tasty morsel like you doing on the beach all alone, hot stuff?" she purred. "When you could be getting a cool drink with me?"

Perhaps living a life of leisure in the Climb after a few millennia of hibernating wasn't the best way to stay caught up on the latest troubles or Names to Know on Caido, but now that she'd had her deliciously indulgent late wake up, she might be inclined to dip her toes in a few pots and see what floated to the surface when she stirred.

Unable to help himself - it's been a long time since Ronin was propositioned by anyone, which says more about his husband and his reputation than it does about him - the Nova raises his eyebrows and even glances over his shoulder to make sure he's definitely the one being addressed. And when it's clear that he is, he manages a gruff laugh and a crooked smile, offering another nod to the Ancient for her trouble.

"I was just dropping by on my way to Stormbreak," he says. "Noticed the waves were higher than usual. Nice to see some people are making the most of it." He nods to her surfboard. "I suppose I could get a drink on the way, though. Hanged Man is open, if you don't mind the walk. My daughter owns the place." Adopted daughter, granted, but whatever.

Zef waited, amused, as the handsome snack of a man looked around, and when he looked back to her she widened her sharp-toothed grin. Oh, yes, she was speaking to him and none other... at the moment, at least. Her tail twitched behind her at the mention of Stormbreak, lazy curiosity reminding her to arrange a visit in Longheat, when traveling from the tropics was far more tolerable.

"Stormbreak, hmmm?" she purred, taking the mention of a 'daughter' in stride, though she did wonder at his age if his offspring was already running an establishment of her own. "Are you headed there for business... or pleasure?" There was a wicked lilt to her voice and a glint in her eye on the last word.

To answer his question she fell in beside him, hauling her longboard with casual strength. "I'm Zef, by the by. And what can I call you, hot stuff?"

Clearing his throat as he realise he is being inspected so thoroughly - and then some, he notes - Ronin nods his agreement. "Business, I'm afraid," he says with a polite smile; it's a shame, really, that he's not the type to get flustered easily. Probably ruins her fun a bit. "I'm on Safrin's business." And perhaps it is a little bit of pride that makes him say it, because like it or not, Ronin is used to being recognised these days.

Leading them towards the Hanged Man and feeling glad that the breeze is blowing towards them, he offers a friendly nod across to the tall woman. "Ronin," he introduces himself. "It's good to meet you. Have you recently come down from the Climb?" He's getting better at recognising Ancients, he thinks.

Business? Boring, but only to be expected. From what she'd heard, Stormbreak seemed like a very business-like kinda place. And it was a damn shame it was going to be taking him out of Torchline so soon. Not when he did such an excellent job of improving the local scenery!

Whose business and the man's name provided a few important clues, and Zef snapped her fingers with a grin. "Ooooh, you're one of Safrin's fancy lads, then? I'd heard she was off on some grand errand... up there," Zef waved her free hand idly towards the sky. "Nice ta meet you, too, handsome." The wink she tipped him was still a little predatory, but hearing that he fell under the starry goddess's protection seemed to have cooled her momentum for the moment.

The bar was in sight and Zef hefted her board and lengthened her stride across the soft sand, eager to get on the outside of a drink or two. "Mmmhmm, how'd you guess? Was it the tan?" She preened a little at his question before waving a hand towards the beach and the waves and the sun. "Things've changed, but a gal could get used to a place like this. Not quite all the comforts of home, but it'll do for now. What about you? Where do you call home, hot stuff?"

Ronin laughs at that, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Her fanciest," he confirms with all the air of a confession; the season decides whether or not he enjoys being part of a veritable troupe of Safrin's closest, and Flowerbirth finds him at his most amicable. "And yes, she is. I'm hoping she'll return soon, if I'm honest." His brow furrows briefly as he lifts his gaze towards the sky, before he makes a point of shaking it off in lieu of their conversation.

"It was absolutely the tan," he confirms through a laugh, picking up his pace to keep step with Zef as they arrive at the Hanged Man; the outside bar area is just as busy as ever, and he sidles onto a stool once one becomes free. "Mm, Torchline definitely has its perks. Waves are higher than usual for the season, though."

As for his own home, Ronin smiles to himself and orders a rum on the rocks before continuing. "I've lived all over. Here for a time, Stormbreak, the Greatwood... but for now I live up in the Draig Cordillera. My better half and I moved there after the war. Peace and quiet and all that."

"Mmm, well, can't fault the old girl's taste," she agreed with a laugh of her own for Ronin's good humor. It was always nice to find a man who could take her in stride, though needling the touchier ones was good fun, too. "I'm sure she'll be back before you know it."

Zef found a place for her board on the beach rack and than sauntered over to join the demigod, tapping one sharp nail on the shoulder of the middle-aged man beside him and flashing a smile both wicked and winsome as she made the best of her cleavage. "D'you mind, pet?" she purred, leaning down and forward and into the man's personal space without a qualm.

The man stammered and slid out of his seat, overcome with a sudden bout of sunburn that ran from his crown to well below the collar of his brightly-colored shirt. Zef waggled her fingers at him and blew a kiss before settling onto the stool and ordering a Kuali'i Island iced tea. "Are they? Pity. Hopefully they're here to stay." She flicked her wet hair back with a self-satisfied grin, idly tapping a nail on the bar's surface until her drink arrived. "But you said you lived in the Draig? Bold, hot stuff. Very bold. Rumor has it the snow never melts up in those peaks. How true is it?"

As her drink arrived she offered Ronin a clink of glasses before taking a long drink of her own to wash the salt away.

"Mm, I have no doubt about that. I'm just wondering what will come after." Unable to help it, Ronin's brows knot into a frown, and he takes a much larger gulp of his drink than he intends to (after clinking his glass with Zef's, of course). Relishing the burn for its distraction above all, the Nova takes a deep breath and lets it out again, committing himself to the conversation at hand.

"Yeah?" He conjures a smile. "I didn't take an Ancient for someone to enjoy the water," he admits. Especially given how cold it must be with the sea so choppy and unpredictable. "As long as it isn't harming trade or the shoreline, I suppose there's no reason to wish them away too quickly," he agrees after a second's thought.

As for the Draig, his smile turns a touch sharp. "Up in the highest peaks? It's true enough. But the place can be surprisingly beautiful if you go to the right places. I live in a meadow with a waterfall that flows upwards."

Zef shrugged, her tail twitching where it hung down behind her barstool in idle relaxation. "Cataclysm. Danger. Woe," she said breezily. "Same as it ever was, hmm? Survive one world-shaking upheaval and it's on ta the next." She took an appreciative sip of her drink, her grin carefree in spite of her words. "Haven't heard a peep in the rumor mill about anyone knowing anything specific they could plan for, so you might as well have fun while you can, hey? She'll be back and putting ya to work soon enough, handsome." Whether what came was an invasion, a plague, a curse, or some new and exciting trauma, worrying about it wouldn't slow its arrival one minute.

His return to more cheerful conversation had Zef grinning her sharp-toothed grin and running a finger along the rim of her glass. "I mean it's not a nice, toasty lava bath," she admitted, the purr coming back into her voice. "And I could do with some warming up, hot stuff. But it's not cold enough ta keep me off a board when the waves are this heavy." And Apopo was comfortably nearby on her gore crow wings if she needed to shake the Flowerbirth chill out of her bones.

As for Torchline's trade? Zef shrugged and took another sip before turning the conversation to something more interesting. Like Ronin and his home, up in those god-haunted glaciers. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder - when the beholder wasn't turned to stone - but one black brow arched in disbelief at his description and she laughed. "Go on, then, pull the other one! It's got bells on! And where does the water go, then? Ta the moon?"

Unsurprisingly, Zef's ideas about what might come next do not fill Ronin with glee, and he groans his acknowledgement that she's probably right about it all around another large gulp of liquor. Demigodly constitution does a lot to prevent him getting drunk nearly as fast as he'd like to, but gods, if cataclysm, danger, woe doesn't make him want to try, he's not sure what else might. "Well, at least if I'm being put to work it will keep my mind off the woe," he figures.

At the mention of a lava bath of all things, Ronin is reminded of yet another tidbit about the Ancients, and he finds himself smiling despite himself. "Have you always been inclined to surf?" he asks curiously. "In lava or water...? I don't imagine a board would last long in the former..."

Not expecting the blatant disbelief at the Weightless Waterfall on his doorstep, Ronin tilts his head, and if this were a world where Instagram existed, he'd have shown her the evidence. "No, it just flows... up Some of it falls away at the top and gathers in the pool, but the rest just goes upriver. It's magic - I don't know how much it needs to make sense."

"That's the spirit!" She congratulated him with a satisfied pull from her own glass, enjoying the fiery burn of the alcohol as it raced down her throat. A little danger was the spice of life, after all, and as far as cataclysms went? Well, as long as they were ruining someone else's day, Zef had nothing against them.

Always happy to talk about herself, the Ancient's wicked grin widened. "Mmmhmmm. If there's no risk ta something, how can you even call it fun?" she asked rhetorically before laughing at his joke. "Never tried a wooden board on the lava. The trick is finding a nice slab of stone in the flow, Not too thick or wide. Then ya can hop on and ride it as long as the lava's got some speed to it." Which, going down the slops of the Climb, wasn't usually a problem.

She made a genuine effort to imagine it, but in the end she just laughed and shook her head. "Alright, fair shake, handsome. So are ya living your best empty-nester life all alone up there, or is there a Mrs. or Mr. Ronin keepin' the house tidy for ya?"

If a little danger is the spice of life, then Ronin's life has been a mite too spicy for his liking. It's true that he's had a nice stretch of tranquility in recent times, but it's funny how the memory of trauma, godlike horrors, unimaginable pain more turbulent times remain fresh in his memory.

Finishing his drink and promptly ordering another, he nods at Zef as if to ask if she wants to join him. "Well at least life doesn't sound boring in the Climb," he says with a grin, not that he can imagine surfing down a lava flow, let alone wanting to. "Are you a professional thrill-seeker, then?" He wonders.

Nodding to the barman as another drink arrives, Ronin takes a sip and sets it back on the counter. "Mm? Oh, no - no, I mean, I am the one who keeps the house tidy." He laughs. "My husband keeps me busy - Remi. How about you? Any copilots on your adventures?"