lightlvss

For someone who had spent so much of his life keeping his thoughts and feelings tightly sealed away, hiding them from nearly everyone he came into contact with, it was really rather remarkable how having the same being done to him by Freya now evoked a certain sense of frustration in Silas. Try though he did, he couldn’t quite will himself into ignoring the look in her eye that so plainly told him she was holding back, nor could he manage to stop himself from being immensely intrigued by the wonderment of what words she had swallowed to keep from saying. And once again, he found himself in a situation where he wasn’t sure which was more frustrating; the fact that he found himself to be so powerfully intrigued by the thoughts that she hadn’t shared, or the fact that she hadn’t shared them, and he was left to wonder what they might have been. As they continued along in resumed silence, the wrangler was left to stew in this conflict internally, cursing the hold that she so effortlessly and unknowingly had on him.

When she spoke again, he was forced to cease his obsessive pondering about what words she might have held back, and bring his attention back into the present. He nodded his head and made a small grunt of affirmation at her words, before drawing his sword from it’a sheath upon his back. “Just a precaution. I don’t see or hear anything yet, but this area has been known to attract the metal fucks, and I would rather not be caught unawares.” He assured her quickly, realizing that the sound of the sword being drawn alone might have been enough to cause her alarm. He took a moment to carefully survey the area around them, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of tracks in the snow, and his ears listening for the sounds of clanging or clattering metal. When he found neither was present, he allowed the arm holding his sword to fall idly to his side. “There doesn’t seem to be any here now, though we should stay vigilant; they can appear quickly, and with very little warning.”

despite the regret physically evident in her being ( albeit dissipating by the minute ), his words proved to be far more interesting than whatever embarrassing concoctions muddled her mind. frosted eyes survey their surroundings, her back facing the wrangler behind her — silently, she’s grateful for her face being hidden, lest he spot the flicker of a smile breaking across her face. 

“ rest assured, siles, I'd say they’d be caught more off guard than us. “ freya turns her head slightly to look back at him — both due to the ringing of his sword, and to sneak a glance. “ thanks to you. “ her smile grows slightly, and as her eyes peer upon him, the huntress finds herself pondering his companionship. had she once been told a loner such as herself would be spending, much less enjoying, company with a man such as him. . . then? she would have laughed. now? she would count every hour down to the second in what they spent together. time and time again, the side-eyed glances of her clanmates had evolved from mild irritation, to disdain, to neutrality. since she’d met silas, that thought had changed — they didn’t watch her to chide, but in fear; both of her own ability, and his.

“ indeed they can. “ his final sentence causes freya’s eyes to briefly go distant, her stare pulling from his figure and returning to the snowfall. he was both a constant reminder and a constant saving grace of the event that had brought them together. in the back of her mind, she debates fate’s intent on guiding him to her that fateful night — and yet, she holds them in thanks as well. the flicker of a shadow quickly pulls freya from her thoughts, however — “ there. “ the huntress’s attention suddenly snaps to the figure of a two-headed elk, watching as it steps into view. her actions mirror that of an art form, practiced motions showing the strength of a woman who has honed her craft. freya’s fingers are taught as they pull back an arrow, raising it in line with the animal’s neck. with her gaze steeled, the tendons in her arms flex as she holds the horizon. “ just stay. . . right. . . “ freya trails, muttering to herself before suddenly letting it fly; the thunk of her bolt hitting its mark, and the subsequent cry of the elk, sound like music to her ears, and she can’t help but allow the light of a small smile tug on the corner of her lips.

if only she had noticed the stalking figure of a steeled creature slipping up behind her.

* * *

Her words brought a hint of a smile to find its way to his features, though the expression itself was a little too knowing for the situation which prompted it. The simple truth, though he never would have said it, was that he set too much store in the strange destiny-like circumstances which had brought them together for him to be able to think of leaving her side, no matter how great the need for him elsewhere might be. It was precisely this that, more than anything else, held him back from taking flight from her and the attachment she stirred in him, despite his sense of reason insisting that he should, and it was precisely this that his sense of reason feared above all else; for now he was tethered in a way that he had spent all of his adult life trying desperately to avoid. Attachments were limiting, they were a weakness, and this was the proof of that. 

The change in her tone, and the words that accompanied it forced his gaze back to her with the pull akin to a magnetic draw. For a time, he felt unsure of what to say, though it certainly was not for lack of thoughts regarding the matter. There was much that he felt he would never be able to intimate to her with regards to the circumstances of their companionship, details which he felt certain he would carry within himself until the day he died. Was this because he did not want to burden her with the weight of significance that he felt? Or was it a fear that she would be dismissive, even skeptical, of the role that destiny had played in converging their paths? Or perhaps it was neither of these things, but simply the byproduct of years of keeping himself closed off from everyone apart from Petra, who had only slipped through because their association had preceded Aleesa’s death. Regardless of the true reason, Silas had many thoughts that he felt he could not possibly share, but he still felt compelled to offer her something all the same. 

Taking a few steps towards her, he looked down into her features for a moment, before he exhaled a sigh. “You haven’t dragged me anywhere. I’m here, because this is where the spirits have willed me to be.” He said finally with a tone that rather resembled reassurance. “And as for your question, I’m afraid I don’t have an answer to that, though perhaps after spending more time in each other’s company, we will both have a better understanding of what that might be like.” With a smile, one much softer than any expression that had graced his features thus far, he nodded his head, before he cleared his throat. “We should keep moving. Remember that Time is not on our side on this day, and even the spirits cannot overturn His will.”

out of all the moments of her regrets, the second her words leave her lips it feels like her heart is caving within her chest. stupid. it was stupid of her to ask silas such things, spirits know what he thought of her now, especially after saving her life. she felt like some small child under the eyes of a watchful parent — even if the comparison was something she was far from used to. still, his approach earns another shifting of her gaze as she attempts to diffuse whatever tension she may have caused. freya had never been one for outright conflict, never truly cared what others thought of her — but this? this was far from different, and she finds herself unable to stop from looking up and meeting his gaze. “ forgive me, it has just been on my mind as of late. “ the huntress swallows down whatever words threaten to break free from the chambers of her mind, the darting of a rabbit behind the treeline catching her attention in the briefest of moments. “ you’re right, I've hindered us long enough. “ a small huff of a chuckle gently pushes past her lips as freya turns out into the clearing, beginning to make her way across. With her hand now resting on the quiver attached to her side, the huntress is grateful for the silence to return once more — maybe now she may finally get a hold of her thoughts for good.

the venture passes with little interruption, the occasional crossing of paths with wildlife earning silent appraisal but little concern. it isn’t until the snow begins to fall heavier and the forest begins to thin out that she slowly shifts her bow to her main hand and slows her footsteps, head swiveling in a constant as they make their way through. “ the elk I've been tracking should be around here. “ freya’s voice is just above a whisper, eyes piercing the area around them for whatever signs of life she might find. “ keep an eye open for me. “ it’s also where there’s been sightings of the metal devils, she thinks to herself — but he probably already knows that.

* * *

A small chuckle escaped him at her response to his tease, and Silas nodded his head in acknowledgement of the truth in her words, casting her the briefest admiring glance before he caught himself, and forcibly turned his gaze forward again. Though he nodded his head and made a sound that was halfway between grunt and a scoff in agreement with her sentiment of derision towards the shopkeepers who made her way of life that much more difficult, he did not allow himself to speak again just then. It seemed to him that with every collection of words that was exchanged between them, not only did his admiration for her increase, but so too did his level of intrigue towards her, and with it, his desire to know her more deeply. Neither of these, he felt, were particularly wise to nurture; though, and he was frustrated to admit it, both of which, it seemed, he would not be able to keep at bay forever, however much he might try.

He was thankful for the silence that wore on in the aftermath of their brief conversation as they pressed on, and he took solace in the distraction of finally setting to work. He turned his senses to the task of observing their surroundings for any indication that a machine could be in their midst, though thankfully they turned up nothing for the time being. His head shot around at the sound of her voice again, and his brows raised a bit at the question she posed. “Technically my accompanying you is my duty. You did hire my services.” He reminded her with a shrug of his shoulders and a nod of his head. “I would be lying if I claimed that my being here did not keep me from other places where my presence is requested, but that is nothing new for me. Hardly a day has gone by in twenty three years that I haven’t received a handful of requests for my help all across the land, and being only one man, I can, regrettably, only attend to one of them at a time. Thankfully, my brothers and sisters are usually able to answer those that I cannot, though not always…” 

In truth, it had taken Silas many years to come to terms with the reality that he could not help everyone who requested it, with it even still bothering him on occasion. But he knew that there was nothing to be done for it; as he had said, he was only one man, and could only do so much. However much he might have hated those limitations, however much he might have resented that he couldn’t do more, the young woman standing before him now was a living testament to why what he could do was enough. He closed his eyes for a moment, and the image of her lying  bloody upon the snow flashed behind them with shocking clarity. He remembered how the sight of this scene had eerily reminded him of the same nightmare that had plagued his sleep for the past twenty three years, how the fiery red of her hair standing out so vividly against the white of the snow had reminded him so terribly of Aleesa’s. So easily their fates could have been the same, so easily could it have been a case of history cruelly repeating itself to remind Silas of his greatest failure; instead, it had proven to be his redemption for that failure. And that was why, more than anything else, he felt bound to Freya, felt a responsibility and sense of protectiveness towards her, that however much he might have resented, he knew he did not ever wish to be free of. 

“But fret not about it. I still find time to attend to my duties in the time I am not in your service.” He added after a moment’s pause with another nod and a small, humorless chuckle. “I’m afraid that I’m something of a workaholic.”

for as long as freya had known him, which technically hadn’t been much, she'd held a yearning for the truth even though she understood it wasn’t her responsibility to bear — for as long as she’d lived, the concept of every man for himself had been ingrained both culturally as well as individually. the huntress knew seldom about her companion, not wanting to pry and yet her curiosity unable to be sated; who exactly was the man who had saved her that night in the woods? why had he made his charge to watch over her? freya confesses to herself in silence that beyond his name and occupation, she might understand. still, she reminds herself that she is far from being the polar opposite, and has her own secrets to keep — after all, doesn’t everyone?

“ you make a good point, though do tell me if you are needed elsewhere. having a guardian can wait, but someone else might not. “ she peers over to him as they walk, studying the ruggedness of his expression; if there was ever a man who portrayed a mountain as well as he did, she had never known them. it is humoring, truly — like a wolf to a raven, the contrast between them renders her in deep thought, if not understanding. freya had been so used to the roughness of her clan, the concept of an individual portraying something other than conflict was foreign to her. she tried to live on the fine line between them, but it was clear by her mere posture that she felt great lengths of peace when surrounded by trees rather than people.

“ ah, a workaholic? I would’ve never guessed. “ a slight smile beckons across her face as the two step further out from the treeline. the snow fell lightly, a graceful warning of what was to come — it freckled her face and hair, and as she rested her gaze on the wrangler beside her, there seemed to be a twinkle of something unreadable in her gaze. “ I wish I could say the same, but as long as it gets me out of town, I enjoy what I do far more. “ silence follows after a few moments, memories suddenly barraging her mind, and freya’s smile almost unintentionally falls from her face. instead, something close to shame replaces it, mimicked by the subtle shifting of her eyes away from the wrangler. “ I feel as though I have not thanked you enough for what you did, and yet here I am dragging you out into the middle of a snowcrested forest. “ her voice is quiet, much more timid than her prior tone — vulnerability. or something close to it, for she hardly knows the male and would seem it inappropriate to go further. still, she can’t help the thoughts that rummage behind the ice of her eyes; and after a moment, she looks back at his face, studying its lines and edges whilst fingers thumb the edge of the bow perched on her. “ what is it like? to belong with those likeminded? “

* * *

The sight of the young woman approaching brought about the usual surge in the conflicting thoughts and feelings that Silas had already been contending with as he had waited. Perhaps the most irritating of these was the inescapable matter of how attractive she was; something which he never forgot, but always wrote off as an embellishment and exaggeration on the part of his mind and memory. It was therefore always something of an annoyance when he saw her again, and he was forced to realize that the opposite was actually true; neither his mind nor his memory actually did her beauty proper justice. He could not help but feel that this attraction he felt to her played a role in weakening his resolve, and in drawing him into everything that he knew he ought to be rejecting. There was a great deal more to it than just that, he knew, but he also could hardly ignore the role that it played in contributing to his weakness. It was all that he could do to hide the scowl that this train of thought brought about.

Her words pulled him out of his thoughts, though not so completely that he did not have to avoid her eye, and he shook his head in response to them. “Don’t apologize. I would rather you come late, but properly prepared, than on time, but under-equipped.” He reasoned with a small shrug of his shoulders and a curt nod. “But yes, I am ready to depart. You are correct in saying that a storm is approaching, and that we would be wise to avoid being caught out in it. So we should not delay our departure any further.” He added as he pushed himself off the wall and began to take strides away from the city gate and towards the forest, the sound of snow crunching beneath his boot with each step.

 “It seems as though our window for success will be rather narrow today.” He spoke after a moment of walking, pulling his cloak a little tighter around himself as the wind howled and whistled an ominous symphony. “We may only get one shot with the time that we have. Are you prepared to make it count?” There was a hint of teasing in the question, accompanied by the slightest of playful smirks, though in reality, he already knew the answer; he had seen enough of her skills to know that if it came down to only having one shot, she would not fail to strike the heart.

“ those are wise words. i’m glad we can agree on them. “ 

freya peers at silas quietly for a few moments, expression somewhat unreadable though her eyes conveying much. for someone of such rugged standing, she’d always’d admired the wrangler in her. . . own way. he was handsome, yes ( more than she’d likely ever admit ), but much more of a character beyond that — he had made a name for himself, a task so many fervently dream of accomplishing, and beyond that a reputation. she hadn’t just asked him to accompany her out of wanting for his company ( also something she’d never admit ), but for the purpose of his skills as well; the man was legend, almost as much as he was to her since the day freya was rescued.

she says little once they depart, grateful for the comforting silence between them she had grown to expect to be filled. freya was never exceptionally talkative, the type to let her actions speak for herself, and found that in silas it seemed to mimic to an extent as well. “ perhaps. but success rarely outruns me, you know that. “ the ice of her eyes sheds a side-glance, a flicker of humor tilting the corners of her lips upward. “ one shot is all I need; hopefully we’ll be in and out by sunset, if the spirits are kind. “ freya hums as her footsteps fall in line with silas’s. “ but then again, i blame those idiotic traders who decided to lower their cuts. you might be needed in the future again, after all. “ she chides with a subtleness of teasing, her much lighter footsteps grazing the snow as she somewhat passes him. freya was no stranger to the forests, having walked these paths many times — perhaps its why, despite the scars on her skin, she holds the same confidence that drives her off the beaten path and into the treeline. despite the soft patter of rabbit feet around them and the distant tittering of snowbirds, the huntress’s stare is driven forwards towards a much different prize; one of substantial size, and gain. she feels no need to speak, not immediately that is — it isn’t until the pair of them break into a clearing does she turn her head slightly, glancing back at the wrangler behind her. “ tell me silas, do I take you away from your duties when you accompany me? “

[  sophie turner  &  30  &  cisfemale  &  she/her  ]   stars  above,  is  that  FREYA  of  THE  ICE  NATION  ?  i  overheard  people  talking  about  them;  they  say  that  they're THOUGHTFUL  but  when  their  STRONG-WILLED  side  rears  its  head  things  can  get  ugly.  did  you  know  they  DON'T  believe  that  the  machines  were  made  by  gods and  DO  believe  in  elemental  spirits  ?  is  that  the  case  for  all  people  who  are  a  HUNTER?  people  who  have  run  into  them  say  that  they  remind  them  of  THE ABSENCE OF SOUND WITHIN A SNOWFALL & A BOWSTRING DRAWN TAUGHT,  but  i  wonder  if  we'll  see  if  there's  more  to  them  than  previously  thought  ?  whatever  the  case,   i  know  they have  NEUTRAL  feelings  about  the  SPACERS. 

𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙹𝙾𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙴𝚈  𝚃𝙾  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳  𝙷𝙰𝙳  𝙱𝙴𝙴𝙽  a  shot  in  the  dark,  the  last  chance  humanity  had  for  survival.  venus  had  no  choice  in  it;  she  would’ve  gladly  taken  one  of  those  easy,  oxygen  deprived  deaths  that  the  council  were  discussing,  but  the  decision  to  come  to  the  ground  had  been  made  so  suddenly  that  it  felt  like  the  world  was  ending  anyway.  and  the  chance  that  little  bits  of  the  station  would  break  off,  landing  in  completely  different  areas?  it  was  a  nightmare  and  venus  was  living  it.  all  she  could  do  was  clutch  onto  the  fellow  prisoners  that  had  been  shoved  in  the  escape  pods  with  her,  hopeful  that  ferreira  and  her  father  would  make  it  out  alive  on  the  other  pods  and  station  compartments.

what  sort  of  world  would  they  even  find  down  there?  venus  couldn’t  imagine  it.  didn’t  want  to  imagine  it.  the  chances  that  they  would  survive  down  there  were  slim;  at  best  they  would  survive  a  few  days  then  start  getting  sick  from  the  radiation.  she  hadn’t  had  time  to  think  on  very  much  before  it  started  getting  hot  as  the  shuttle  entered  the  atmosphere,  the  screams  of  her  fellow  inmates  sounding  around  her.  venus  had  tried  to  keep  quiet,  had  clenched  onto  the  seatbelt  keeping  her  in  place  as  desperately  as  she  could,  and  then  it  had  gone  black.

light  hits  her  eyelids  and  she’s  not  sure  how  long  she’s  been  out  for  as  she  gasps  for  breath,  but  her  head  stings  like  she’s  been  hit  over  the  head  with  a  datapad.  it’s  happened  in  juvie  before,  but  this  feels…   worse.  venus  groans,  a  ringing  in  her  ears  as  she  reaches  up  to  touch  her  head.  her  body  screams  in  pain,  in  protest,  and  she  swears  there’s  some  kind  of  blurry  figure  looming  over  her,  someone—

that  is  not  someone  she  recognises,  and  they’re  definitely  not  one  of  her  own  people.

venus  lets  out  a  sharp  yell  at  the  sight  of  the  other,  pushing  herself  backwards—hands  scrambling  over  the  rubble  she’d  been  burried  on—only  for  her  back  to  slam  into  the  side  of  a  large  chunk  of  metal.  is  she  dead?  is  this  what  this  is?  is  this  some  kind  of  forrested  hellscape?  “ get—get  back, ”  venus  says,  her  throat  croaky  and  her  voice  hoarse.  she  swallows  thickly  as  she  takes  in  her  bearings,  her  senses  all  suddenly  coming  back  to  her  as  adrenaline  fills  her  system.  they’d  crashed;  they’d  made  it,  if  the  smoking  scrap  and  pieces  of  shuttle  were  anything  to  indicate  yes.  or  was  it  just  her?   venus  frantically  looks  back  at  the  other,  picking  up  the  sharpest  piece  of  scrap  metal  that  she  can  find  nearby.  “ who  are  you? ”  she  demands.  “ am  i… is  this…  am  i  dead? ”  that  had  to  be  the  only  other  explanation:  there  were  no  survivors  on  earth.  it  wasn’t  possible.  it  couldn’t  be…

in truth, the very last thing eris would ever expect from such a situation was acceptance ━ if she was in the woman’s shoes, injured and awakening in a hellish landscape with an unknown person standing over you. . . well, it’s safe to say eris’s reaction would have been a lot worse. still, despite the situation being fairly unique, most of the warrior’s panic had devolved into getting whoever the hell was trapped out. . . even if it meant adding another scar to her list of trophies.

“ hey, hey! I'm not going to hurt you. “ eris’s hands immediately raise above her head, promising the absence of a weapon. silently, she’s grateful she left her axe back at the horses when they’d undertaken rescue efforts. “ you’re not dead, you. . . “ fell out of the sky? her mouth hangs open momentarily as she struggles to think of exactly how in the name of mother metal this all happened. “ there was a crash. your people are back there, “ she juts a thumb behind her back, motioning to a dwindling crowd of clan and sky people alike. “ they have us searching for the injured. and you. . . “ eris trails off, her hands dropping after a moment as she looks over the woman’s appearance, silently grateful for whatever gods above had spared the warrior from such fate.

“ my name is eris, i’m apart of the new world clan. “ not as if the name has any meaning to her, she adds silently. suddenly she feels so stupid for the assumptions, but then again she’s never quite been in a situation such as this. “ i admire your fighting spirit but believe me, if I had wanted to kill you I wouldn’t have tried to wake you up. “ eris speaks in a gentle tone, her words a stark contrast and yet the truth at the same time. it was humorous in her attempts to quell the girl’s fears, obviously doing it in her own way. “ let me help you? i’m no healer but I know my way around an injury or two. “ she motions towards the scars covering her arms.

A slight smile formed at the threatening, albeit joking remark. Though he well understood the time he was living in, he wasn’t entirely equipped to end up on anyone’s bad side, and made a mental note to definitely not let it be hers if he somehow did. Having heard the tales of sudden destruction from the machines that now walked amongst them, and the planned attacks carried out by other factions during the war - Clement always questioned how he stayed so immaculately clear of it all.

The amber liquid touched his lips again as he drank a hearty gulp, lost in thought of the days he’d spent travelling with his parents. Gone were the days of a loving nomadic family, here to stay was a man working each day to make his father’s death count for something. What, he wasn’t exactly sure yet. The woman spoke again and Clement’s mind raced with the possibilities of his confession, he’d never so much as laid a hand on another that wasn’t loving. “I’m embarrassed to say, the only battle I’ve ever experienced first hand was in here.” His pointer and middle fingers raised to his temple with a gentle tap. “My parents weren’t fighters either, though. Never given the opportunity… Father could have used some training at the end though.”

out of all the answers applicable, eris could admit that his answer was just about the last thing anticipated. still, she wasn’t an icicle, that’s for a fact ─ she had never looked down on someone for being either unable or incapable of fighting, instead seeing it as a gift; for the first time in a long time, the flicker of her mother’s lessons swell her heart, earning a slight tilt of her lips in remembrance. “ no embarrassment here, my friend. we all came from somewhere. “ raising her glass, eris taps her forehead almost knowingly. “ believe me. “ she lets her words land for a few moments as she sips on her drink, eyes trained curiously on the man before her ─ if someone could appear well together and yet lost at the same time, it would have been him. it’s when he brings up his father, though, that she takes a pause in her motions, every muscle in her body appearing frozen in time. it was an almost painful reminder to eris about how she wasn’t the only one; the ability to fight really couldn’t guarantee survival, not in this world.

“ may i ask what they did for a living? “ she tilts her head in question, her eyes carrying the same edge as always but with a slight hint of. . . sympathy. it was hard not to, no matter if family was lost at an early age or not, and as she watched him she felt compelled to speak. “ mine were. or, at least my father was. . . but he didn’t last very long in the end, either. “ her nose crumples after a moment, stare drawing to the glass in front of her. “ ‘supose in this life that’s never a guarantee, hm? “

she isn’t usually one to press. in fact, saviye is certain that the younger woman is indeed fine. the wound isn’t too deep; it would hurt like a bitch for awhile, especially when tending to it to stave off infection, but it wouldn’t consume a life. and yet slender fingers proffer a vial of healing paste her dear uncle had made towards the blonde. “this should help,” saviye hums with a slight smile, holding up her free hand in the meantime. “it’s free. last of my wares to sell for the day, and frankly everyone here looks more interested in…” her eyes sweep over the floor of the establishment, watching as patrons toast and cheer and or drown their sorrows. “…a different kind of healing. so it’s yours.”

her head gestures, however, towards the seat opposite of the blonde. “though if you’re feeling generous, i wouldn’t mind hearing the tale of how you acquired that wound.”

eris was no stranger to the hidden machinations of those around her ─ while she might’ve played the hell out of being a brute, she wasn’t stupid either. everyone was always out to get something, even her, whether emotional or material ( or a bit of both ); and while she sat concerned all the same, she didn’t see a reason why she couldn’t be nice.

“ oh- “ her eyebrows raise as the prim woman presents her with the glass container, gaze studying it for the smallest of moments before she smiles and gently takes it from her. “ thank you very much, i wasn’t expecting... “ her words trail off as her visitor continues, glancing about the room with an expression of mild humor. eris had made it a habit to get used to the stares, especially in being. . . well, her ─ and yet, time and time again, people always managed to surprise her in the best of ways. “ can’t blame ‘em, though i have a feeling they’ll be nursing something else in the morning. “ as if on cue, eris taps the side of her head as her stare returns, a grin splitting open her face as the question reaches her ears. though the woman didn’t exactly fit the ‘stereotype’ of those that frequented these parts ( eris being one of them ), she had a feeling she’d find out something interesting tonight. “ sure! so long as i get a story in return. “ eris gestures towards the table, attention splitting off as she attempts to flag down the bartender. “ drink? “

area: outside cronos station

timeline: past, a few hours after the crash

who: venus @shecontempt​

tw; mentions of injury

━━ 𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆.

many would have thought the same centuries ago, but this was a world she had come to respect, even if she didn’t love it; whether it was with the fervency the oracles had, the profit that the sunners viewed, or even the same bloodthirst the icicles wielded, eris had only been out for one thing ━ survival. 

and for a moment, with the night set ablaze by a comet of metal, she believed she had failed.

the event itself would stick to her memory like honey to wood ━ as one of the first responders to ground zero, she remembers the air being choked by blackened smoke and the groaning of shattered steel. most of all that surprised her was the presence of people ━ their outfits and weapons were of caliber eris had never been witness to, with even the remote herds of metal devils scattering at their arrival. it should have been a calamity, a grand reckoning; but it didn’t.

the first talks went surprisingly well, even after the initial stand-off and threats. hilariously, it was akin to a ‘communal event’ ━ other clans arrived to investigate soon after, subsequently forming a well-endowed group keen on assisting and learning more about these ‘sky people’ ( whether with good intentions or no ). eris was no stranger to war and even more so to injury, finding herself sifting through the rubble to reach the injured and maimed. hours passed and with soot caked to her scar-littered skin, the warrior had appeared to have made substantial progress ━ but there was always more to be found, and even greater opportunities to arise. 

with her boots crunching against the prairie grass, eris weaves around piles of infrastructure like a dart to a board; her hazel eyes scan the rubble, searching not only for any clues as to who these people are, but those that were missed by the initial search party. in the back of her mind, she wonders if it was even possible for someone to have been trapped so far from the main wreck ━ looking up for the briefest of moments, eris catches a glimpse of the distant crowd as they likewise search. the only sounds surrounding the warrior were the crackling of flame and the muted cries of metal devils in the distance; the fact they hadn’t approached was both relieving and concerning at the same time.

“Looks pretty bad from where I’m sitting.” Clement caught himself staring at the wound, his mouth slightly hung open and a bit of horror in his eyes. “Hate to see what the other person looks like though.” His face formed a sort of grimace as the woman poured her own drink onto it, eyes scrunching as the liquids of the glass and her blood mixed. It was as if he was able to feel the stinging sensation himself. Watching as she downed the rest of her glass, he felt compelled to do the same, if only to stop staring. Signaling another round for himself and the other, he waved his hand as politely as possible to the barkeep. He’d figured she might need it.

“Do you always nurse your wounds in a tavern, or is it a special occasion?” The question, though sounding sarcastic in nature, was one of general curiosity. Albeit true that Clement had seen his fair share of injuries with a healer for a mother, they’d done their best to shy away from any sort of bloody happenings after the death of his father not long ago - focusing on metaphysical healing instead. The worker delivered their new glasses full of whichever alcoholic beverage they’d ordered before and Clement raised his to the other in a silent cheers.

cocking a brow, an flicker of humor rises to her face at his discomfort. though not in malice, she’d always found it funny when people got squeamish ─ but then again, not everyone was raised like her. “ believe me, you wouldn’t want to know. snitches get stitches. “ winking in a knowing manner, she traces the grooves in the wood almost in thought, her stare drifting across the tavern floor. it pleased eris that a sense of normalcy had managed to managed to fall upon the capital ─ with such a meshing of individuals, she’d had her fair share of fights in the day; yet, much to her laughter, she found that the night became almost customary for retiring to a good drink. the ones the caused trouble were the the venom at the bottom of the bottle, and while she wouldn’t mind dealing with them, she was grateful for her clanmates to take the charge for once in her life.

“ no, not always. “ eris shrugs after a moment, nodding her head appreciatively as their drinks are delivered. “ consider it a celebration of life, and victory. “ the corner of her lip curls as she raises her glass, sipping languidly as she savors the burn. the warrior didn't appear the type to be swayed by deep thought, much less in a tavern of all places, but for a moment her eyes drifted away from the trader’s presence before her. “ tell me. “ lifting her chin, her gaze lights up with the appearance of a newer thought. “ do you see battle often? “

area; hinton, tavern

timeline; night, present

tw; mentions of injury / blood, alcohol 

━━ “ 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄, 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒. “

a smirk dances across eris’s lips as she caught their stare, the crinkled corners of her eyes all-too familiar in the face of injury. years of similar stunts hardly earned any manner of worry from the warrior; her scars that gleamed in the torchlight depicted such well enough. “ seriously, you’d think by now I'd be more scar tissue than anything. “ a rumble of laughter rolls out of eris as she reaches forward, grabbing her glass perched on the table between them. propping her leg up on the bench, she trains her eyes on her wound and lifts her drink to pour ─ it’s clear she’s done it prior by the accuracy of the stream, eyes unmoving from the broken skin. while most might flinch due to the sting, eris hardly even noticed, peering up after a few minutes to flash a tired smile.

[ tessa thompson  &  33  &  cisfemale  ]  stars  above,  is  that  ERIS of  THE  NEW  WORLD  CLAN  ?  i  overheard  people  talking  about  them;  they  say  that  they’re  FIERCELY  LOYAL  but  when  their  VENGEFUL  side  rears  its  head  things  can  get  ugly.   is  that  the  case  for  all  people  who  are  a WARRIOR ?  i  heard  they  can  usually  be  found  around  hinton.  people  who  have  run  into  them  say  that  they  remind  them  of TEETH  BARING  IN  THE  MOONLIGHT  &  THE  CLATTER  OF  BLADES, but  i  wonder  if  we’ll  see  if  there’s  more  to  them  than  previously  thought  ?  whatever  the  case,   i  know  they  have NEUTRAL  feelings  about  the  SPACERS.