hell's comin' with me

// the past is just a bridge we burned down behind us
when we left this town, running from the blinding heat //

It’s early enough that the dew hasn’t quite disappeared from the blades of grass and blooming flowers of Meadowreach, but the Flood has gotten an early rise. A cup of coffee that steams in the cool early morning keeps him warm alongside a soft forest green sweater, settled in a wooden chair out back, deciding to embrace the quiet early morning outdoors where he can watch the birds flit about, retrieving the worms closest to the surface while the ground is still somewhat damp.

The morning is peaceful, surprisingly given the information received from Noah and the river stars he’d seen not too long ago. At the very least, the weather here has been temperate, not drowning in the rain of the Grounds or the stormy waters of Torchline, nor the heat of Halo. Though something tells him its one of the few times he might get, being able to relax like this, before things start to really hit the fan.

At least he feels well enough prepared this go around.

the flood

// of our disaster when we left this town
you can rely on me, i will always let you down //

Isla

It shouldn't feel like coming home, because Isla still doesn't have one, and yet the familiarity as she walks through the long grasses on the fringes of dawn is unmistakeable. The smell of the dew in the air, the birdsong, the rustle of new leaves sprouting in the trees... it's King's End all over, but somehow more than, since the place has become a region in its own right.

And she notices that, too, the way the once-dirt roads have become well-established routes, the House of Midnight rising up like a welcome rather than a lonely outpost among the barrows. Having intended to slip in through one of the back doors and make herself comfortable until Sunjata descends for the morning, the Flood manages to beat her to it, and Isla spots him on the back porch reclining like some retired old soldier in a book.

Raising her hand in a wave, the breeze snags on the soft shawl she wears, sending it billowing out behind her. In a linen sundress, the material clings to a body made all the more sunkissed for her time in Torchline, and Isla hurries to get in the shelter of the building.

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

// the past is just a bridge we burned down behind us
when we left this town, running from the blinding heat //

Despite all the differences in King’s End, the second that a slight movement captures his gaze and he spots Isla, things feel like they’re back to normal – like a missing piece has just slotted back in. So it’s with a wave back to her and a bright smile as she hurries toward the door that he sets the coffee down on the little end table, disappearing back inside to the sleepy, quiet brothel.

He’s on the second floor balcony, which makes some time pass for her to get in and get comfortable, before he descends to meet her, a smile brightly aimed the second he sees her and boldly reaches out to embrace her, skin tinged cold with the breeze from outside, the scar on his face and arms lighting up like a clap of lightning that reflects a pale blue glow against his skin. “Isla, it’s so good to see you.” He tries to keep his voice down so as to not wake anyone up, but the excitement of her arrival is clear. “Do you want something to drink or something to eat? Both or neither?” He asks with a little huff of a laugh, getting the little things out of the way.

the flood

// of our disaster when we left this town
you can rely on me, i will always let you down //

Isla

Hurrying inside and feeling all the better for the warmth that licks across her skin, Isla ruffles a hand through loose, wind-tossed curls and slinks further into the building she'd helped raise from the ground up, knowing the corridors and doorways like the back of her hand. Having hung her shawl on the back of the chair she intends to recline in, she turns just in time to see Sunjata swan into view.

"Sunjata, you--" Whatever she might be about to say to him in greeting dies on her tongue, the Remedy gathered up in an embrace that feels so right it absolutely, never will be. Things are different not only in King's End, evidently, and Isla has to force herself to grasp at his upper arms to create distance, or else the scent of woodsmoke and botanicals will only make things worse.

"You look good," she says nonetheless, raising her eyebrows at the scars that (literally) light up along Sunjata's skin, and she has to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. "Coffee would be great. Spike it, would you?"

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

// the past is just a bridge we burned down behind us
when we left this town, running from the blinding heat //

Perhaps he’s come off a bit too strong (he has), with how he embraces her so immediately, letting her go the second that she grasps at his arms. His smile shifts toward a hint apologetic, still lopsided in the scars that settle there, taking a moment to step back and create that distance even as he slightly chews on the inside of his cheek. “You too.” He offers quietly, taking note of the tan from the Torchline sun, an almost envious glimmer of it with how pale he was here in King’s End with how minimal the sunlight had been.

“Of course.” He hums, stepping away for a few moments fully – allowing her to regain her bearings and for him to realize he’s tried so hard to not be awkward with this little reunion that he’s swung so hard into the opposite direction, like pretending nothing happened. It’s something he can curse himself with later, returning to the space she’d claimed as her own, taking a seat opposite of her as he sets the mug down – a warm and not too sweet coffee, spiked with something dark and heavy – exactly how he remembered she liked it.

“How’s it been in Torchline? How’ve you been?” He asks, sitting up a bit straighter in the chair, looking as if the weight of the world that had barreled down on him were lifted.

the flood

// of our disaster when we left this town
you can rely on me, i will always let you down //

Isla

"You're too kind," Isla responds easily to the compliment, smiling softly and smoothing down her dress as Sunjata steps away, giving her the space to breathe and be and put her mask back on. Sinking down into her seat, she slips off her shoes and tucks her feet beneath her, reaching for the coffee to sip at it without needing to wait for it to cool. "Gods, that tastes better when it's cold outside," she admits with a smirk. "Not that Torchline hasn't had its share of hairy weather, lately."

How has she been, though? Gods, if only there was an answer that made sense, Isla shrugging her shoulders to the Flood. "Still a work in progress," she tells him with a soft laugh, though there's a light in her eyes that will, perhaps, take purchase some day and grow. "I'm sure you've heard plenty about Torchline with the whole leadership thing," she continues, not wanting to bore Sunjata with news he already knows.

"How about you, though? You're looking different."

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

// the past is just a bridge we burned down behind us
when we left this town, running from the blinding heat //

“Nothing worse than warm rain, honestly.” Sunjata offers her in response to the jest of drinking hot coffee while it’s cold outside, humming a quiet chuckle alongside it. He has heard of the weather, from Melita mostly – having only gone once to Torchline and finding that the weather was the last thing on his mind.

His smile softens slightly, but he does dip his head in understanding. For as good and carefree as he looks right now, he’d always consider himself a work in progress too – too many things rearing their ugly heads in the back of his mind to ever quite let him enjoy the things he has. But she would know that – she’d know a lot of what he often dealt with.

Except now, he supposes. “Yeah, I did hear about it.” He’d had a slight hand in it too – giving Harper the advice needed to step down if it was what was best for him, and for Flora to try because where was the harm in it? But when it comes to him, well, it feels a bit like a brag, and he has to swallow down a sip of his own drink to ignore the way it wants to burn on his tongue. “I saw Frey recently.” He admits, slow going before he delves into it completely. “They told me while I was spending all this time focusing on King’s End, I’d been… Fixing myself, I guess?” His head tilts, avianlike, uncertain how to word it exactly and choosing to instead reiterate what Frey had told him. “They said I’d surpassed Remi and Ronin to be the first to get here, though what here is, I haven’t figured it out. But I have come into having a ton more abilities and a new shift.” The smile is apologetic, almost like a wince of sorts. “And I’m immortal now, at least provided I don’t drown.” But with his affinity for water, well, he might have a decent shot at surviving.

the flood

// of our disaster when we left this town
you can rely on me, i will always let you down //

Isla

"Oh, I don't know. I can think of a few things worse than that," Isla says with a raise of her eyebrows and a playful grin that she hides behind another sip of coffee. Quite a few things, if she's honest, though the Remedy chooses not to mention any of those, especially now that they're onto the subject of Torchline and everything that came wrapped up in it.

And then there's Sunjata.

"They did?" There's no hiding Isla's pleased expression there, and she lowers her drink to cradle it in her lap, regarding Sunjata with open pride. In another time and another place, she'd have reached out to hug him tightly and kiss his cheek. "That is the best news I've heard in a long time," she says, and she means it. "As well as Flora becoming Queen and Remi moving to Torchline, of course. But honestly... congratulations. I can't think of anyone who deserves a break more than you."

Reaching up to touch a hand to her cheek in a mirroring of his scars, she tilts her head. "Is that why...?" She trails off, indicating the hey Sunjata is glowing aspect of their reunion.

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

// the past is just a bridge we burned down behind us
when we left this town, running from the blinding heat //

Sunjata regards her with a quiet and playful are you so sure look that he doesn’t comment on given that it’s shifted to Torchline and everything else. And while it felt like a brag – considering part of the reason he was still standing here, in a position that he was in was because of the woman sitting across from him, well… Things never quite stopped feeling awkward.

At the very least, he sees the pride that blooms on her face, the pleased expression that has him loosening the taught breath in his throat, his smile widening as his scars glow again in another strike, this time drifting from his mouth, to the one on his neck, then to the exposed lightning scars on his arm. “Thank you.” He offers quietly, meaning every second of it. “You had a lot to do with helping me start.” He has to give respect and praise where it was due, even if it hadn’t ended well. She was still a huge part of it.

As she reaches up to gesture to her face to mirror his own, he nods. “Yeah. All the scars light up when I’m feeling a lot of emotions.” As evidenced not too long ago. “And there’s this, too,” He pauses, reaching over the bar to open the drawer and collect an ice cube, settling back in and using his right hand to set the ice on his arm and as it starts to melt and spread water along his arm as he moves it, little floral inky tattoo designs start swirling in his skin.

the flood

// of our disaster when we left this town
you can rely on me, i will always let you down //

Isla

It's just as easy for awkwardness to slip in as it is to try too hard, but Isla is determined not to let that cause issues for the friendship she shares with the Flood.

"I am okay, Jata," she tells him, searching out his eyes and offering him a smile and a scrunch of her nose. "I promise. You just need to remember that you are literally Frey's sex demigod, whatever else you also happen to be." And she is neither a relative of Sunjata's, nor a long-term lover, and he's built to have certain effects on the general population.

Offering out her mug as a cheers for helping him pave the way for his self-improvement, Isla takes another long sip of her drink and settles back in her seat, listening with curiosity to hear - and see - Sunjata's new tricks. "You know," she says through a laugh as the inky floral prints drip across his skin, "so many of the workers here thought you were a work of art. You didn't have to literally prove them right."

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

// the past is just a bridge we burned down behind us
when we left this town, running from the blinding heat //

She searches his eyes and his steel meets her pebble blues, seeing the truth in her words. Still, it sparks a soft laugh from him, a slight wince and wrinkle of his nose as he exhales a long slow sigh. “I have a tendency to forget that.” He admits, despite how Frey’s changes to him have certainly added to his appeal, it isn’t something he thinks of often. It’s like an addition to who he already is, never quite imagining he’s just a walking billboard of being Frey’s, which is kind of what he’s become.

As evidenced by the comment after the cheers while he shows her the floral tattoos that start to mar his skin and fade away as his skin dries, his gaze lifting up to meet Isla’s with his own chuckle and roll of his broad shoulders. “I guess I have to look the part, huh?” He teases, amusement flickering on his face as her previous comment starts to take root. “I can heal with my magic now, though. And make a shield. And the shift is a hydra, which yes - if you cut one of the heads off two more will grow.” He adds on the latter bits, things that were more useful than just how he looked, even if the hydra one seemed like a perfect fuck you to anyone wanting to literally chop his head off.

the flood

// of our disaster when we left this town
you can rely on me, i will always let you down //

Isla

"Mm, you absolutely do," Isla says in warm agreement, flashing a fanged grin to the Flood and finishing her coffee before setting the empty mug down. "You can make him a demigod to rival all other demigods, but you can't make him smart," she laments, shaking her head up at the ceiling as if to tell Frey that they've certainly dropped the ball somewhere.

"Oh, psh - you always looked the part and we both know it," she says, though she does enjoy the way the tattoos flow and sink back into his skin as the water evaporates. "And did you say a hydra?" Raising her eyebrows, the Remedy is impressed all over again, wondering instinctively how it works from a medical standpoint despite it being thoroughly magical in nature.

"Have you tested it out in a fight yet?" she asks, curious.

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

// the past is just a bridge we burned down behind us
when we left this town, running from the blinding heat //

A bark of laughter leaves him at her lamenting, ending with a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes. She isn’t wrong, though. Sunjata was smart in certain aspects, but when it came to himself and his own capabilities, he certainly fell short. At least his height makes up for part of the self-dim-wittedness.

The smile remains and he shrugs a shoulder again, waiting until the ice cube has melted before he uses his magic to collect the pool of it on the table and swirls it through the air to the sink on the other side of the bar. “Maybe that’s why Frey took a liking to me to begin with.” He suggests casually, nevermind the fact that Frey had been the first deity he’d gone to here in Caido.

But that’s beside the point, as he relays all the new tricks up his figurative sleeves. “I haven’t. I did shift into it when Frey told me, but I haven’t done much with it other than that.” His gaze lifts to meet hers, his smile shifting to something a bit more calculating. “I probably should, though, given the way Caido’s going these days.” Assuming she’s heard about it, he leaves it open for her to either ask or agree.

the flood

// of our disaster when we left this town
you can rely on me, i will always let you down //

Isla

"Mm, maybe so," Isla agrees, shifting and getting comfortable in her chair as Sunjata wisps the water away across the room, letting it trickle down the drain. "How are things here? And in King's End?" she asks, her gaze snagging on the familiar walls and furniture, though of course the majority of the people aren't as recognisable any more. She's heard of course, about the Flood's leadership, and she's seen the improvements in the region herself, but hearing it from Sunjata will always be better.

As for the hydra situation, the Remedy can only wince her agreement and nod softly, letting out a long breath of air and tugging at a loose thread on her dress. "Is it bad, that even though things are getting more rough lately... I'm sort of glad?" She laughs, shaking her head as if to dismiss it. "Glad that it's something other than the Ancients that people are fighting against, I mean." Persecution leaves marks, after all.

"Maybe you should train with some of the other demigods," she suggests suddenly about his hydra shift, as if to dismiss her previous statement. "They would be able to handle it more than most, you'd think."

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