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Who: Mikleo + OTA
Broadcast: Voice
Action: Huntress + Iskaulit
When: Today

( a. huntress )

[This place sure is good at getting you complacent and then slamming the door in your face. Mikleo's having a perfectly normal day, playing post-battle catch-up in his room, when Sorey tracks him down to give him the bad news. After that the rest of the day is a write-off; he just can't find the energy to focus on anything but the gut-wrenching loss. Dezel's gone. More than gone home, but rather...

It's hard to think about it, but there's no avoiding the truth. It's something he's been dreading for a long time now- something that's come up in discussions about Zaveid and Eizen. In just a moment, without warning, it could all be over.

Speaking of Zaveid... when he can bring himself to leave Sorey's side, that's his next stop. It'd feel wrong to do this any way but in person.]

( b. voice )

I'm sorry to be the bearer of more bad news- we've had more than our share recently. For those who knew him, Dezel is no longer with us in the fleet.

...while I can't imagine he'd ask for it, if you're so inclined... offer up a prayer in his name. It's how our kind draws strength.

( c. iskaulit )

[Once the hardest parts are done, he starts doing the busy work, so no one else will have to. Step one is to gather up all the creatures Dezel's collected from various planets - the fish, slugs, and lizards - and carry them over to the Iskaulit. The fish go to his water tank, and for a while he watches them flutter about contentedly in their new home amidst the sea greens. After that, he ventures to Edna's mountain to see if they might find a home in all the nature there, though only with Edna's permission. Finally he spends a few hours in the interfaith center, curled up against the seraph altar, idly spinning about the pinwheel. During his whole Iskaulit visit, he's wearing a quasi-replica of Dezel's hat. It takes him a while to get himself home again.]

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[ For a little while Zaveid just stares at Mikleo, as if he's grown a second head, as if there's something completely and utterly wrong with what he's hearing - which there is. He hears the word Dezel and something sinks inside of him, something burns behind his eyes, and his hands start shaking. He's not conscious of any of it - he doesn't realise that anything is happening, really, only that he's staring and staring and it feels as though there's a fuzzy, white noise overwhelming him.

Now that he knows what he's looking for he can feel the loss, the burn of something dangerous inside of him. It's like a piece of his soul has been torn away and he doesn't know how to handle it, where to begin to do anything - but he doesn't believe it, either. When he turns his head to blink, to actually look at Mikleo, it comes hand in hand with him slowly, oh so slowly, pushing himself up. Then he steps, again, and again, one in front of the other, until he opens the door.

One thing at a time. He steps out. He walks down the hall. He pretends his face isn't a mirror of how he feels. He steps into Dezel's room. He breathes in, once, then out, before he drops back to his knees, staring at the ground, feeling his stomach twist, feeling the gentle rattle of the bracelet around his wrist, the soft noise of the necklace he replaced his own with.

I didn't -

The words catch on his tongue. He waits until Mikleo is back behind him - because there's no way Mikleo isn't chasing after him, he's not an idiot, no matter how much he plays it off - before he leans back and closes his eyes, fighting the tears that make his stomach twist into a dozen knots, that make his hands shake and his heart thud, rattling in his chest, burning somewhere inside him. He feels it, all of it, just like the first time but worse, worse for knowing the way Dezel's hand fit in his own, the ring of his laughter in his ears, the taste of his kiss.

He breathes out, tilts his head, listens to the sound of silence, and clenches his hands into two fists. It's not fair, and the words tumble out before he can even think about stopping them. ]

I didn't get to say goodbye.

[ Again. Just like before. No goodbyes, no closure, no fond farewell. Just a missing piece of himself gone. ]

Edited 2017-11-20 08:44 (UTC)

[Mikleo couldn't have stopped himself from following even if he wanted to; one look at Zaveid's expression is enough to verify that there's no way, no way he should be left alone right now. So he follows quietly behind him, close enough to be felt but not to disturb. He knows, before they arrive, where Zaveid's going.

Seeing Dezel's room without him in it is an extra wound in his heart, pried open red and raw as his eyes drift over the possessions left behind. All the decor, sparse and vibrant, mostly Sorey's fault but all made to give Dezel some sense of natural comfort. The creatures he'd collected one by one, through choice or default. Little gifts, little trinkets, little treasures. His gaze falls on the hat he'd delicately stitched together to replace the one that he'd destroyed as a dragon and he feels his eyes water, his throat clench. When he was- when he was miserable, when he needed it, Dezel would sit with him- he'd set the hat on his head, and-

He shudders, feeling the visceral pain in Zaveid's voice, and reaches out to touch his arm, tentative but personal, a start of something depending on the response he gets. Sorey's always been the tactile one, he'd be better at this. But for the moment all he can offer is himself.

None of them got the chance to say goodbye, it's true, but it's likely that none of them would feel this loss on the same level.]

I'm so sorry, Zaveid...

[ It isn't fair, and Zaveid feels himself flare with anger for a moment, enough that if he wasn't checking himself the air around him would flare up and threaten to smother the two of them. He's lost control before - lost it with Sorey, wind biting and snapping at them, whips of power that curled around his hair and cut into his skin - but he doesn't let it happen now. There's a time for that kind of grief and it isn't here, not in Dezel's room where it feels like he could walk in at any minute and start scolding Zaveid for being such an idiot.

It doesn't feel as though he had enough time. How long has he been on the fleet? How much time did he get to spend with Dezel? Not enough, not even close to enough, nothing to fill the gap of decades that had come between his death and Zaveid standing beside Rose's grave. There's a gulf of sadness that opens up in front of him and he doesn't know how to handle it, doesn't know how to bring himself together, to anchor himself to a moment where he might be able to move on.

He doesn't cry, at least. He didn't cry when Theodora died, didn't cry when Eizen turned or when he put him down, held back his tears for Sorey and Mikleo. He didn't cry the first time, picking up the hat and wearing it, claiming it, in memory of someone had had cared for and lost. He doesn't cry now, even as tears prick at his eyes, even as he swallows and forces himself to breathe. He knows, without saying it, that Dezel would be furious if he cried.

A thought echoes in his head - Gotta talk to Sorey. Gotta get the hat back, he has to claim it as his own again, something real, something else that proves that Dezel was here, that everything they shared wasn't a figment of a dream that he'll wake up from and mourn, even if it hurts now.

The hand on his arm brings him out like a slap on the face and Zaveid blinks, turning to look at Mikleo again. There's a rush of something like shame, that he's the one breaking apart when the others are suffering as well, when they've felt the hurt and the burn, and he reaches out, leaning close to press his forehead against Mikleo's shoulder. He wants to be strong, desperately, he wants to be the rock, but he is the wind and flighty and lost and he doesn't have the power to keep himself up. He buckles under the weight of his own feelings, a gust against the ocean. ]

Don't apologise. You didn't do this.

Edited 2017-11-20 09:14 (UTC)

[It's true that he's never been good with this, is the first to admit it in fact, but there's no hesitation in his movement as Zaveid leans against him. His arms lift and wind around the other seraph, making up for his smaller stature with a fiercely strong embrace. He can't just leave it all up to Sorey to pick up the pieces of what Dezel left behind. That's too much responsibility for one person. And if he wasn't prepared to do this, then why the hell would he even have come to do this himself?

He can do this much. He can do whatever Zaveid needs from him right now.]

Idiot, [he murmurs, without venom, almost affectionately, a habit he and Dezel shared.] I know that. I can still be sorry that you're hurting right now.

[If Zaveid won't cry then he'll cry. Sorey'll cry. There'll be plenty of tears to go around and maybe alleviate that pressure, maybe someday give Zaveid the strength to let himself go, too.]

[ There's a part of Zaveid that feels bad that Mikleo is the one that has been forced to deal with this - that Mikleo has taken it on his own shoulders to come and be the bearer of bad news. Zaveid knows that he doesn't handle emotions particularly well - he swings between all out depression and violent anger so fast that it's ironic whiplash - and he's not sure that the guy he considers half a baby brother and half a kid should be the one to shoulder the burden. It's not fair, it's not right that any of them have to deal with this or feel this, but here they are, bitter and sad and broken because an unseen force has twisted their lives.

Mikleo's arms wrap around him and Zaveid shifts, pressing his face into his neck, breathing in and out and forcing himself to calm down. He doesn't want to fall apart, not right now. The mourning will come when he is alone, buried under the weight of grass and blankets, draped in air created by his little room. Not here, even as he basks in the warmth and comfort that Mikleo offers him. There's only so much that he can give before he feels embarrassment and shame rattle at his bones.

Slowly, he wraps his own arms around Mikleo, holding gently. ]

Yeah. I'm sorry too.

[ Sorry that he couldn't stop him, sorry that he gave the gun up, sorry for a dozen and one things that he can't put into words. ]

[Part of him had hoped this place would still feel like Dezel; part of him had dreaded it, at the same time. It doesn't though, not really. The air is sweet and fresh and that lingers in his absence, supported by Zaveid's presence. And there's a whiff of his scent in the wind, old leather and whatever animal he'd touched the last day.

It isn't the same.

His cards his fingers gently through Zaveid's hair, over and over, resting his cheek against it and gazing past him at the smattering of possessions left behind. Much like a domain without a guardian seraph, without him here, it's just... empty.]

I know what you're doing... I wish you'd stop it.

[ The room feels a little different to Zaveid, but only because he had been there so often; there's the last brush of Dezel's wind mixed up with the air of the planets and the animals and he doesn't know what to do with himself. He wants to run away from it all just as much as he wants to bury himself into whatever is left and keep it to himself, old and selfish and embittered. But he can't move, can't draw away from Mikleo, and he doesn't know how to put it into words.

It doesn't get easier, he realises. Losing people doesn't get better. It just is.

What he knows is that he's going to have to move eventually - he's going to have to get up and go back to his own room and lock the door so he can mourn properly. He just can't do it right now, not when he's grasping at Mikleo, relying on him, just enough to ease some of the weight... But not enough altogether. ]

... Yeah. [ What more can he say? He shakes his head. ] I'm working on it.

Mm... so you say.

[It feels like, yet again, he's being brushed off- Zaveid being Zaveid, like always, shrugging aside his problems and acting like it's a feeling that'll fade away if he ignores it long enough. Or that whatever he's feeling is something he's meant to endure by himself, because no one should have to deal with this or that. It's stupid and he hates it; he didn't put up with it when Sorey did it, and he sure as hell won't put up with it now.

They're all hurting, so why suffer alone?]

...Zaveid, I need you to promise me something. I need you to swear that you'll talk to someone this time. I'm not saying it has to be me, or even Sorey. I know you don't like to burden us, even if it's just you that feels that way. But you can't keep doing this to yourself.

[His arms tighten, his body tense. Zaveid isn't the only one who gets protective of their found family.]

You can't carry it all on your own. You don't have to.

[ It's not as though Zaveid means to brush him off, to nudge him to the side, to be anything but honest - because he means it. It might come off a little bit strangely, a little bit stiff, but that's because he is hurting. He's feeling his heart ache in his chest all over again, and it feels like every single time one of his wounds scab over something comes to rip it open again, salt pressed into the fresh cut. There's no peace, not really, and when he leans back he looks at Mikleo and feels his age so suddenly.

Frowning, he glances away, expression sobering into something tense and tight. ]

Did I ever tell you about the kid, Silva? Remember that dragon we saw? [ The bones, he thinks. The bones of a child, essentially. ] He was tethered to an exorcist, once. When we freed him... We gave him a name. Promised he'd be happy. Then he got turned into a dragon.

[ It comes out stilted, a little broken, because as old as the memories are they're still fresh. Zaveid lifts a hand to the side of his head, his fingers mimicking a gun, and he grins, all teeth. ]

Bang. Bang. Bang. Shot myself three times. I thought I could take on an Empyrean that way. Three shots from the gun and I'd be strong enough, 'cause some kid got killed and I was meant to be looking out for him. I know what it's like to be a father, Mikleo, and... Seeing a kid turn into a dragon? It killed me inside. [ He breathes out, hand dropping to his side. ] 'I'm not just any malak. I'm sick of murdering scum like you. I know no limits, for I am Zaveid.' I was so damn cocky, y'know? Thought I could hold him off long enough for the others to do something, but in the end I got my ass kicked. Every single time I tried to help someone my ass got kicked from here to next week.

[ Quiet for a little while he breathes out, closing his eyes and relaxing before he finally turns back to look over at Mikleo. ]

It's not all about burdening you, y'know. Sometimes it's kinda scary, seeing what a man does when he's lost something he loved.

[Mikleo's expression says it all- that was... a lot to take in, and for a long moment he's too stunned and stricken to say anything. With Zaveid it's always unexpected, a sudden burst of pain like a dam broken apart by too much pressure over time. And each time he understands a little more, why he keeps it to himself.

What had Zaveid told him, back in the wetlands? "It’s the destiny of a long-lived seraph to make many farewells." And here it is, a story of yet another one, both heartbreaking and far too soon. He must have had so, so many over the centuries...

Mikleo's eyes soften, and very gently he tugs Zaveid into another hug, brushing a hand through his long hair.]

Even when your ass gets kicked, you still manage to help people, don't you? You've done it plenty of times- we've seen it. You helped Dezel as a kid, you helped us avoid getting killed by dragons, you gave us what we needed and joined our family to save the world. And even if we lost him, you helped Dezel find peace.

[His voice goes quiet, grip tightening a little.]

You... you helped me, too. When we lost Sorey you stayed with me. I don't know what would've happened to me if I'd been left alone.

[ It's because sometimes it's hard to think about - all the things he's been through, all the things he's lost. Sometimes the time just feels right and the words come fumbling out because there's no way for him to swallow them back anymore, and it doesn't get easier the more he does it. He feels as though, perhaps, it ought to, but it doesn't. It just makes his stomach twist and his heart feel uncomfortable, and when he glances over at Mikleo he can feel the guilt and regret curl around him.

Mikleo brings out the best and worst in him and sometimes he forgets just how young he and Sorey are. They're just kids, barely anything compared to his centuries, but they're so wise and old for their time. They've been through more in a few short months than some seraphs go through in a lifetime, and it's interesting to see how they react to things, how the world is shaped by their ideals and their dreams.

He breathes out, leaning close, basking, for a moment, in the casual intimacy. ]

Sometimes people just... Need someone. Sometimes it's an ass kicking, sometimes it's something else. It's not hard to be there when they need it, y'know.

[ Slowly, Zaveid's arms sink around Mikleo and he draws him close, voice soft and tender. ]

I'm always gonna be here. You're not gonna be alone. Not ever.

...You know that means the same for you too, right?

[There might come a time when he's okay with being alone- when he might crave the solitude, when he'll be comfortable to wander on his own, free to drift from place to place like the wind, like Zaveid used to. Water is made to be flexible, after all- to shift and phase to make its way through the world. In Elysia he'd been a still pond, shaken only by Sorey's ripples; as a sub-lord he's a winding river, following the path of the Shepherd- first Sorey, now Rose. After that... who knows what he'll become, when he's ready to change again?

It was Dezel who taught him that- to utilize his element, build his own identity and strengths upon it. He won't forget that lesson.

Later, though. For now, he's glad to be spared from this so-called destiny of a long-lived seraph- to lose people, to be alone. He's not ready for that life. And Zaveid's already done more than his share, so why not take comfort with each other?]

You're stuck with us from now on, so you can't be too reckless.

... Yeah.

[ And that's the thing. He's known, for a very long time, that he's never really going to shake Mikleo, Sorey, Edna and Lailah, that the memories of Rose and Dezel and the others will bring him happiness. It's not something he's ashamed of; it's something that makes him happy, being aware that he has such wonderful things in his life, sparks of wonder that bring him joy. They're the spark, the echo of something amazing, and it makes him feel as though he's reaching that point of happiness again, where he can wake up and not feel as though the world is slowly choking him.

It doesn't mean he doesn't worry. His experiences have taught him that nothing lasts forever, and that's what concerns him. He's watched Mikleo die once - did it with his own hands - lost Dezel, lost Rose... A part of him wonders how long it will be until Edna goes, and then Mikleo, and then Sorey, and then Lailah.

It's a fear. It's one he's never going to be able to escape from, no matter how much he keeps running.

Breathing out, he presses his hand flat against Mikleo's back. Zaveid has to try and train himself to live in the moment, to live as a member of a family rather than the exile he's used to being. ]

Psh, me? Reckless? C'mon.

Don't make it sound as if that's unusual.

[This is promising, though- more normal. He'll take the casual flippancy if it means Zaveid will at least accept some comfort at the same time. Baby steps, as the saying goes.

He'd never have imagined, back when they first met, that this is where they'd end up... yet here they are. It really is astonishing.]

I'm sorry that... you've had to lose so much. It isn't right, or fair. And I'm sorry that it keeps happening. I am glad that you don't have to face it by yourself anymore, though. So if you're gonna be reckless, make sure you bring us along with you.

It's not as usual...

[ He's been pretty good over the last few weeks, actually. He's proud of himself.

To be fair, however, there has been no dragons or monsters or anything. Just their ship and the people on the planet he could do nothing for.

Shaking his head, Zaveid closes his eyes a little tighter, gritting his teeth. It's hard, so hard, and he feels something tense coil inside him, burning up through his throat and behind his eyes. He doesn't know what to say, but he knows he has to say something. ]

That's how the world goes sometimes. No one can live forever. [ And some people get their time cut short. ] ... I'm not gonna leave you behind.

Damn right you're not. And neither are we.

[and he'll keep firm about that one, despite their shared grief, everything they've experienced, all the potential for loss going forward. he can't make empty promises of a future he doesn't know- he can't vow that they'll never be separated or lost. the world, all worlds, are too uncertain for something like that, and he won't be made a liar.

he can promise, at the very least, that any permanent separation won't be a conscious decision on his part. he - all of them - will fight tooth and nail for this family. for some of them it's all they have.]

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