driftfleet | huntress mingle

[Upon feeling Zaveid's distress Sorey had forced himself to sit still, to just listen and feel without darting off to his side. He doesn't feel as if he's weak, or in pain; something very troubling must have happened.

Eizen moves within his domain toward Zaveid's room and Sorey relaxes, book open on his lap as he stares into the middle distance, feeling things through his connection. It's probably obvious, all the poking and prodding he's doing, but when Eizen gets to Zaveid he forces himself to turn away. They should have some privacy, even from something as vague whatever it is he's doing.

It takes conscious effort, but Sorey restrains himself from hunting down Zaveid after that. Eizen spends a lot of time with him, and after that Mikleo goes to track him down too, not content to sit and wait. Sorey usually wouldn't be either, but this time he...does. He sits and he waits.

Wind seraphim flit and flutter. They travel, they titter, they move hither and thither, to and fro. Zaveid has been in his room for some time without moving, which is incredibly unusual, but for once Sorey doesn't want to push into his space.

Zaveid will come to him if he wants. And maybe- maybe this is a good time to request that. A good time to wait for Zaveid to sort himself out, to give him the distance and privacy he wants and wait for Zaveid to come to him. This sort of thing, learning to trust someone, it doesn't just take Zaveid's trust; Sorey has to trust that Zaveid will come to him as necessary, too.

So even though it's hard, Sorey waits for him. He tugs gently on their connection, just to let Zaveid know he's here, he knows something is wrong but he's willing to wait, and though he paces outside his door a few times on the verge of letting himself in, eventually he moves on. There are things to do on the ship. He won't go far until he's sure Zaveid really is okay.]

[ Zaveid knows he's there.

He feels it the moment his emotions skyrocket - Sorey feels it, holding onto their connection like a tether, a lifeline, binding them, bringing them together, and he relishes it. It's something out of his control, unlike the wind and his anger, something that anchors him even when his spirit feels like it's being ripped apart. Sorey holds him, the broken pieces of himself threatening to fall apart and shatter, and he welcomes it, even when Eizen comes to do the same thing physically.

It helps. It helps more than he can say, and there aren't enough words to describe the weight of his feeling, the depth of his appreciation for what his Shepherd has done. It's more than he can ask for, in the end, and it makes something settle in his chest for a moment. He accepts it for what it is - an offer, but not a demand, Sorey saying that he is there and waiting but not suggesting that it is something that Zaveid has to do.

It's after Mikleo and Eizen have left that he finally gathers himself. He shifts, pushing himself up, sparing the box in his room one last glance before he sighs and picks it up. Folding the lid over the top doesn't make it easier to manage, but it helps, at least a little, and then he's able to make his way through the ship, to walk down to where Sorey is waiting, a gentle tug on his soul guiding him.

When he finds Sorey he's quiet, careful, before he breathes out and shifts, moving forward. Then he's moving to sit down opposite him, putting the box between them. ]

You can look.

[As hyper-vigilant as he's been lately, Sorey can tell the instant Zaveid starts moving toward him. There's a quiet determination in the wind, something he can practically taste (maybe even moreso now that Dezel is...not around). Zaveid's element precedes him, and Sorey already has his tools set aside when Zaveid comes into engineering and sits across from him, setting down the box.

Sorey watches Zaveid's face carefully, but in the end says nothing as he draws the box toward him and lifts the flap.

Stops.

Stares back up at Zaveid, then down into the box, then back up at him.] ...dragon parts? [Who would do such a thing? Why?]

[ For all that Dezel learned a lot from Zaveid he learned a lot in turn, too; how to calm himself, once the emotions raged, how to temper his nature, to make the briskness of his wind into something a little stronger, a little more determined. He didn't realise it for a long time, but being around the other guy made things better, made him better, and it's something he's clinging on to even with Dezel far gone. He doesn't want to think about those implications for now, focussed instead on settling down in front of Sorey, breathing in and our air that tastes foul, air he doesn't even need.

It only gets harder when Sorey looks inside the box, and the weight of the information is heavy on his shoulders. ]

... Theodora. From the Atroma.

[ There's no playing it off here. Zaveid sounds sad, sounds upset, but he also sounds determined, too, steeled and certain. ]

Eizen's taken some for that mountain of his and he's gonna make a shrine for her. Mikleo's doing some stuff with the scales for me, to make sure I've got something I can keep. The rest... [ A few more scales, the other horn... ] I dunno.

[There's so little to say to that, so Sorey opts instead to nod, gazing back down into the box, reaching carefully inside to lift the horn into his hands. It...feels like Mikleo's had, ribbed and rough, like rock and keratin and myriad battles waged and won. Dark and foreboding, but...that's just him projecting. There is no malevolence left here. How they'd managed to send a piece of a dragon is a mystery in and of itself; Sorey had always seen them fade away, melting and bleeding into mana as the malevolence holding their form together dispersed...but if the Atroma can bring back the dead, then something like this must be all too easy.

That's perhaps the worst. That they were capable of bringing Theodora here, hale and whole, and instead they delivered her twisted remains to Zaveid disguised as a gift. It takes a few deep breaths for Sorey to reign back in his temper, to tamp down that righteous fury that makes him want to go hunting for someone from who he can demand answers. There is no one to hold accountable; at least, no one within reach.

Sorey rests the horn on his lap, running his fingers over it as he glances back up at Zaveid.] Do you want me to hold these for you? I can put them somewhere safe, for as long as you need me to.

[ Zaveid hasn't even considered the possibility that they might bring Theodora alive back to him - it hadn't even crossed his mind. The idea of it is too foreign and distant, an old would scarred and broken by time and memories, and even having Eizen back doesn't really do much to make him consider it. Theodora is something deep in his history, a closed chapter reopened by pain, and he doesn't want to lend the time to considering what it would be like for her to appear here. It's a far off, foreign concept; it's too impossible to even think about.

All the same, he doesn't look over at the box, at the horn, the scales. He lets Sorey have the time, the moment, and he leans back instead, shifting to make himself more comfortable and curling up, almost making himself seem smaller. It's difficult, given his height and the size of him, but when he looks back over at Sorey he just seems tired - but at least he's talking. He's here and he's talking. ]

Whatever's left, sure. I don't think I can keep them in my room. [ It makes his stomach recoil something nasty. ] If you have any suggestions... [ About what to do with them, in the end... ]

[Sorey mulls it over as he turns the horn in his hands; Zaveid obviously doesn't want to just get rid of everything; he could've vented it all out the airlock if he never wanted to see it again. But maybe, in this form, it's...]

...I could carve the horn. I've done whittling and stuff before. [It's a lot harder than wood but Sorey's sure he can figure it out. Maybe even use wind to do it.] Maybe into the shape of something she liked.

[ It's a little too close to home for him to just destroy them all; it's a little uncomfortable, clinging to the last pieces of what he has. There's no part of him that can let Theodora be destroyed al l over again, even if it might be easier. ]

... I bet she'd like that. [ He sighs, tilting his head and looking over at Sorey. ] She liked flowers. Stuff with the kids, I dunno.

[Oh good, he likes the idea. Sorey sits up a little straighter, the horn in his hands on his lap.] I'll do some research. I'm sure we can come up with something fitting together.

... Thank you, Sorey. [ And he means it, too, in the most genuine way he can muster, his throat tight and his eyes closing. He breathes out before he turns back to look over, a little more relaxed. ] I appreciate it.

I'm happy. I'm happy you could talk to Eizen, and Mikleo, and me. [Sorey packs up the box again, careful and tight, to hide how choked up he's getting. Tis the season or whatever] I'm happy you don't have to suffer alone anymore.

I'm trying. [ It comes out gruffly, even as he looks away. His arms cross over his chest, almost like a defence, a barrier from the emotions. ] It's not good, I get it. Holding it all inside... It just makes me sick. [ Like he'll get sucked into Malevolence the second he's too far from Sorey. ]

[That IS a worry, Sorey will gladly admit it.] Yeah...I'm still learning that too. I think maybe that might be one of life's eternal lessons.

I think... You gotta have a purpose. [ He tightens, tense, thoughtful. ] Mine was the kids, and Theodora, then it was the Exorcists, then Eizen, then Maotelus. Something to keep you going, even when it all goes to shit.

Mm. [Pulls the box into his lap.] That's true for seraphim and humans, too. For everyone.

That's something for me to work on. [ Now that Rose is gone and there's another Shepherd. It's not the same, but... Hey, it's something. ]

It must be hard, [Sorey muses, gazing up at Zaveid.] Humans...we have it easy. Our purposes only have to last about eighty years.

You'd think, huh. [ He tilts his head, thoughtful. ] Maybe it's harder for humans. All the stuff you gotta deal with and such a short amount of time... How do you even deal with it all?

I never really thought about it...but maybe that's why humans become so passionate over a cause? Not that seraphim aren't. [Folds arms and frowns] Maybe single-minded is a better phrase to use.

You've got so much to do and no time to do it. [ It makes him laugh, snorting. ] Maybe that's why I'm so lazy.

Free-spirited. Lazy makes it sound like you don't do anything.

I guess I do stuff sometimes... [ And he's so tempted to do something irritating to prove his point... Noogies are cool, right... ]

Yeah occasional- hey! [ugh his face is in ur armpit] Ugh, stop! Mikleo just did my hair this morning! [Squirms out and tries to fix it. He usually doesn't care but Mikleo was so meticulous when he cut it and Sorey could at least do him the courtesy of keeping it...neat-ish...for the 24 hours after.]

[ It's a good armpit, stfu. ] Then you can tell him it was my fault. [ He really doubts that Mikleo's gonna get too mad at him, considering, and it ends up with him just one-arming Sorey into a hug. ]

You haven't properly seen Mikleo on the warpath if you're willing to take the blame, [Sorey points out, but at the same time...maybe Zaveid has. Hell, Zaveid's known Mikleo longer than Sorey has, at this point, which is very bizarre to think about.

Goes still in the hug, just leaning against Zaveid instead as he stares down at the box.] ...can I ask you something?

huntress mingle

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