abraxaslogs | september catch-all; open

From his hidden chamber he senses the presence of someone else in the temple. These rooms he keeps for himself are like her necklace is to her - there's nothing of great monetary value to be found anywhere within, but the memories this walls reflect back to him are his greatest treasure - the closest he came to paradise. That he can manifest them in such detail is more proof that all of it was real, that he didn't just make it all up in the madness he endured two years ago.

There's no door that leads to this sanctum, he exits it by simply moving through an approximation of the Gray Space, shifting through the drywall and stone to the temple's great room, stepping right through the wall. In his hands is a simple tray holding a kettle of light floral tea, and a plate of apple slices. A greeting ritual he never indulged in outside of his Domain - he's never had his own space to act as a host to guests.

He sets the tray down silently and kneels beside her in his own silent prayer to the earth as the body of god, and blessings to the people. Though the sky through the glass dome above is darkened by smoke, the crystal leaves and fruit of the trees give off their own light from within like stained glass, and the iron boughs seem to stretch farther than usual, blocking most of the black sky.

"Welcome back," he greets her with a genuinely warm smile, though his weariness persists even here. It shows in the dark circles under his eyes, only absent the tension that shows in the real world.

Edited 2022-09-21 18:30 (UTC)

His smile is understated, lined with a heaviness buried somewhere underneath it, and her own reflects something just as drained in return. "Thank you," she says softly.

She knows that food and drink in the Horizon isn't real, in the way an apple in the living realm is, but she appreciates it all the same. And it doesn't stop her from taking the proffered tea, if nothing else simply so she can have something to do with her hands.

"How have you been?" she can hazard a guess, but it feels necessary to ask, anyway.

"Busy," he replies, waiting for her to take her cup of tea before reaching for one for himself. "Thorne's allowed us to help out around Nott."

Putting out literal fires. It's preferable to Thorne making them stay put in the castle, twiddling their thumbs. He'll take being exhausted over that option...

"What about you?" It's easy to see that she's in much the same state as him - last he'd heard she was working toward getting into Libertas. The tea might not be real, but drinking it gives a comforting warmth to the blood and bones.

She nods her understanding, everyone seems to be these days. So much is happening, and she knows it’s likely to escalate further very soon.

“The same,” she answers his question. “They’ve let us start search and rescue, which feels better to do than the nothing they were forcing onto us earlier.” She genuinely does sound relieved for it; the desire to be proactive in those first days after the attack were maddening.

That aside, her eyes still cloud with unshed tears. “It’s awful,” she whispers. “the things people do to each other in the name of— what?” she shakes her head. It isn’t fair, she doesn’t say, because she knows fairness has no place in a war.

His brow furrows and he lowers his gaze for a long moment, her pain resonating deep within his own chest. They are the same, in both faith and their need for action. And there's no good answer to that question. Not even from saints or gods.

"How much of the city is gone?" he asks, quietly, allowing his gaze to meet hers again. They had only seen the initial attack from Castle Thorne, their perspective controlled by the queen. It had looked dire.

"I couldn't say... it's a lot. So much is irreparable, and what can be repaired will take a while. They won't be the thriving art city they were again for quite some time." she explains it the best she can- she's no demolition expert or architect. It's just: Bad. Really bad.

"I just keep thinking- if she'd done this, just a few months ago... There was a- an event, an Art Walk in Libertas..." she shakes her head. "so many of us would have been there," she breathes out. And there's the obvious implication of how easily they could not be so lucky next time hanging in the wake of it, too.

He thinks of the eastern kingdoms, the land where nothing grows after the Rifter's power had been unleashed. He thinks of the torn and distorted landscape to the north, the attack that had destroyed the Payshmura so intense that even the Gray Space was affected. But those were long dead places now.

Libertas is still smoldering from the attack across the lake.

"I'd say you and your people should get as far away from the cities as you can, but I imagine that's easier said than done." Even in the Free cities. He lets out a breath, frowning.

"I hate having to sit idle."

As patient as he's learned to be, it's not a natural part of him not to be moving in a moment of crisis.

“I wouldn’t even know where to go that would be away from the main factions…” she says softly, looking up at him through her lashes. It makes her look younger than she is, like a little sister looking to an older brother for advice. It was a manipulative tactic she’d learned at The Menagerie. The more innocent she looked, the bigger the price the clients paid. Heleen liked her girls to look young. Some habits don’t break as easily as others— she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.

She nods and, careful not to startle him and with her motions perfectly telegraphed so he could stop her if he wanted; she reaches to wrap her fingers around his own and squeeze gently. “This is important, too.” To regroup. To spend a little bit of time with someone she’s growing to trust more as time goes on.

It has an effect on him. Makes him think again of his sister, the details of her face blurred in his memory after two decades - sometimes replaced by the empty sockets and child-sized bones held together by copper wire, all that was left of her small body when the nuns were done carving the flesh away. But for a second he sees her large dark eyes looking up at him now through Inej as her hand reaches for his own.

He squeezes her hand back, smiling in spite of himself and bowing his head slightly in agreement. This is important, too.

It'd be a disservice to both to mistake them for each other - his sister and this young woman, and he doesn't. But the echoes remain, along with the warmth he's started to feel toward her in these few short meetings.

After a long, quiet moment he ventures a question again.

"Did you come here with people from your world? Or have you found people here?" Either way, it sounds like she's not alone when she's outside of Horizon, which is good.

She smiles when he squeezes back, glad they share that sentiment.

"Yes- both. I was first, of the three of us from my homeland. Jesper came next, Kaz is still pretty new here," she doesn't mention Matthias, mostly because thinking about him here and alive, and the way she hadn't moved fast enough into switching factions to be there with him, for him, knowing he's gone back to dead all hurts too much to need to explain. "and I've made friends in Cadens," she hesitates to call them family, because she isn't sure if that's how any of them see her, and she doesn't want to overstep with her own assumptions. But they are good to her. She wouldn't trade those people for anything.

"I know I'm lucky," she says softly. "not everyone has people from home here... is that case for you?" Inej thinks she already knows the answer.

That's more than he expected. He's glad for her. "It seems like the Free Cities summons more of us than the other factions."

He has yet to meet anyone who has come from Solvunn. In Nocwich is seemed like most of the faces he hadn't seen before had come from the Free Cities.

"No one I know is here," he says, with a soft shrug. "I'd been been on my own for a while."

It doesn't bother him exactly. Who would he wish to see? Only Rousma, if that were possible. Maybe John - selfishly, but he doesn't belong here, and it would be complicated. There are more people from his world he'd rather not see, he thinks.

After a moment, he gives a reassuring smile, lest she feel sorry for him.

"I have a roommate, though. His domain is the gas station next door."

"Solvunn summoned me, actually- I switched during the Peace Summit," she can't help rolling her eyes at the phrase. Peace. Would any nation, would any world, ever truly know it? "to be with Jesper. It's only right we're in the same city." She may have been leaving Ketterdam, but if she were honest with herself it was never in a 'forever'. Places weren't home, people were.

She nods. She could understand not wishing people here, no matter the amount she missed some of her friends from home, she couldn't rightly hope this for them.

"Oh?" she tips her head a little to the side. "Well, at least you've got someone," she smiles. "...what's a gas station?" She crinkles her nose a little. Too many new things she has no reference for exist in the Horizon.

When she mentions Solvunn he immediately has a few questions... but then the question and her little nose wrinkle has him smiling, ducking his head.

"It's uh - it's a place to buy fuel for a vehicle," he starts, unsure if her world has anything equivalent. "And really cheap, really bad food. Delicious, but terrible for you."

He's still grinning as he explains, suddenly with his own craving for nachos and cheese. He raises both eyebrows.

"We could hop over there now, if you wanna try some."

Jack wouldn't mind.

"We still use horses," she says with a shrug.

She's long-since accepted many of the people here were from worlds far more futuristic than any she's ever known. She has issues with the idea of a roomba. "But I like food," she says with a grin, lifting her eyebrows almost in a challenge.

september catch-all; open

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

cw: vague description of ritual sacrifice of children

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject