△𝕊ℍ𝔼𝕊

Galo can’t help but admire Lio’s calm approach to all of this. sure, he’d seen Lio in all sorts of emotional states, hurt and rage being two of the most prominent, but the way he calmly thought about the situation at hand, keeping all those thoughts to himself…it was interesting to see. Galo supposes he wasn’t the leader of Mad Burnish for nothing. those leadership abilities not only made him a good asset, but a great companion to have in times of trouble.

that slight smirk, though… it reminds Galo that Lio has a hot streak, just like him, and Galo finds himself grinning.

“Hell yeah! How am I supposed to let everyone know I mean business without it? The flimsy plastic they gave me,” Galo nudges the simultaneously melted and charred baton with his foot, “couldn’t even begin to handle my burning soul!” because that’s why it melted…definitely not the fireball he’d accidentally conjured in surprise.

“Then again…maybe it’s a good thing no one else is here, that we know of. I mean, there’s a huge mess back home to deal with! Who’d clean it up if everyone was whisked away to this place?” a pause, where he considers something else. then, an exasperated yell, with an equally exasperated ruffling of his own hair.

“They’re all gonna think I skipped out on helping! I wouldn’t do that!”

      It’s strange to think that of the two of them, Lio’s probably the one more likely to get an idea in his during a fit of temper and simply go with it. Galo may be an idiot (the world’s number one, Lio recalls) but his brashness isn’t often fueled by anger. Not like Lio’s is. Part of him thinks it’s a good thing, considering Lio’s temperament seldom takes into account those around him. So far, Galo’s been the only one able to knock him out of it, and he wonders if that’s why he’s here rather than Meis or Gueira, both of whom would likely egg him on in their own distinct ways.        Then again, he thinks that if it were for the right reason, Galo might egg him on too.        The thought is strange to consider, but after their brief time working as a single unit inside of Prometh’s magnum opus, he thinks he knows it with an unusual degree of clarity. It prompts him to consider Galo’s boisterousness differently, wondering if he’s meant to manage him in return. Wouldn’t that be something, a Burnish keeping a member of Burning Rescue in line?        (He can almost hear Vulcan having a fit over the very idea.) “I’m sure you’d figure out a way at maximum volume,” Lio drawls (un)helpfully, and he bends to pick up the charred wand. Eyes roving over the melted and blackened plastic, he wonders what kind of cruelty would possess the person who’d decided on it to give him that rather than a more... traditional matoi. Or at least a replica of such. He fumbles with the wand a moment later at Galo’s unexpected yell, only to try (and fail) to hide the beginnings of a chuckle behind one hand. 

||  █ ▌— jakurai holds out a hand as if to steady the one who had bumped into him, instinctive but uncertain as he watches him. he certainly seems lost in thought, and jakurai feels a little bad for interrupting, not that it was a deliberate act on his part. he shakes his head as he pulls his hand back.

❝ there’s no need to be sorry. i wasn’t watching where i was going either. ❞

it isn’t as though either of them were injured by the action, after all, and jakurai himself had been lost in thought, considering his place here, as he understands it ( or, more realistically, does not understand it ). he shakes off his own thoughts and offers what he hopes is a reassuring smile and shakes his head. ❝ you look as though something is troubling you. ❞

he’s… not really trying to pry, and if the young man really doesn’t wish to discuss it, he will leave him be, but he can’t help inquiring just a little. sometimes it can help to simply let things out, after all…

❝ forgive me if i’m overstepping, but does it have to do with the fire you were conjuring? ❞

      This is exactly the kind of thing he’s been trying to avoid. It isn’t that Lio is bad with people; in fact, most of the time, he’s been told he’s fairly good at dealing with others. At telling them exactly what they want or need to hear. When it comes to things to do with him, however, he’d rather play most of it close to the chest. Pulling gingerly away from the hand put out to steady him, he straightens and looks up at the man he’s run into, nodding once, crisply, as if to say that the matter needs no further apology.        His expression remains controlled at the guess the man takes, and he knows it wasn’t a hard one to make, considering how intent he’d been on the flame. His fingers flex unconsciously, once more wishing for something he can no longer conjure, and shrugs his shoulders. His voice borders on the dismissive when he speaks, though not on the unpleasant, not caring much for having his thoughts intruded upon. 

“You’d think so, huh? S’pose I’m just not used to being the strangest thing in the room. I’m pret-ty well-known where I come from and…well, Exos are pretty common, all things considered. We don’t get seen as much different than anyone else.” They only gave their physical bodies to science to become robot people who gradually lose their memories. No big deal.

“You kiddin’ me? I just asked around. I just kept askin’ if anyone had seen the Traveler around so I could go back and show everyone everything’s a-okay. Buuuut, no dice.” He couldn’t imagine a place where the Traveler was a total unknown. How did people not know about it? There were wars fought over its power and presence. Now he’s come here…where not a soul knows about it.

He couldn’t tell if it was better or worse.

“Must be nice.” Not having anything to take meant that they didn’t have to scramble. “My gun, mostly. And my partner. Goes by Sundance. ‘bout yay-big.” He held his hands out about six inches apart. “Pretty talkative when she wants to be and has a red and white shell. …Don’t s’pose you’ve seen her, have ya?” 

Wishful thinking.

"I kind of know what you mean.” Lio wasn’t overfond of hiding what he was, after all, and more than once it had gotten him attention he definitely didn’t want. He commits the term ‘Exo’ to memory, and tilts his head in a nod, acknowledging the fact that by his own metrics, he’s really not that strange. “Still better than what I’ve managed,” Lio informs, arms crossed and expression irritated. “This place is... it’s far too different from what I”m used to.”        Which isn’t entirely a bad thing, really, only off-putting, and Lio hates feeling unbalanced.  “Trust me,” he adds, voice wry, “I wish I still had something to lose.” He doesn’t elaborate though, instead focusing on the description of ‘Sundance’, and wondering what she must be. Another machine entity? 

“One of these days I like to think I’ll become a household name here. That way people will stop gawkin’ at me and sayin’ stuff like “sci-fi” or “robot”. And they can just call me by my name.”

It wasn’t like he was actually annoyed by it. Granted, back home, Exos were pretty commonplace among guardians. So none of them gawked at him or gave him a second look. Not for his metal casing, anyway. Mostly just because he was renowned. And dashing. Mostly dashing.

“Cayde-6. Most call me Cayde. And friend…I don’t think there’s many people that know much about nothin’ here. Pretty sure most of the big wigs up top would rather intentionally keep us in the dark. After all, if we became wise to their ways, I doubt most of us would stick around for very long. Am I right or am I right?”

He was probably right. “Far as I can tell. Everyone loses their stuff. Gets to keep a weakened version of some of their stuff. We all want our stuff back. But in order to do that we gotta play their weird, twisted games and be their lab rats. Yadda yadda, angry yelling, cursing at the sky. Dropping to knees and I just want my gun back.”

“...I see.” Lio’s eyes blink, slowly, as his brain processes the absolute deluge of words he’s had heaped upon him.       The first thought that springs to mind is that this person reminds him, just a bit, of Gueira. The second is that, for that reason and that reason alone, if the other members of Mad Burnish should ever show their faces, he should keep this person and his general firmly apart. After that, he considers more- like what the ‘6′ in his name is for, how easygoing he seems despite his apparent distaste... There’s a lot to unpack in the things he’s said as well as how to say them. Lio decides that picking it apart is best left for later.  “It must get tiring, being picked out like that,” he murmurs, more than a little irritated with himself. He, of all people, should know better than to draw attention to things like that. “Though it sounds like you either have experience with situations like this or... you’re very good at finding things out without making it seem as if that’s what you’re doing.” Either is a good thing, in a way, because it makes him a far more valuable acquaintance than Lio had been anticipating. “I didn’t have anything to really ‘take’ so I suppose I wouldn’t be privy to that,” he adds, looking aside thoughtfully. 

“It’s because we’re just so damn awesome, obviously!”

he says that, but…it wasn’t that simple. as much as he wanted that to be the truth, he hadn’t captured Lio, Meis, and Guiera because they were awesome. he’d thought them to be terrorists, nuisances, public enemies– the way he was taught to think of them. now, of course, he thought they were absolutely amazing. resilient, caring, hard-working…mostly. likewise, they hadn’t captured him because he was awesome. Galo had been standing in their way and he didn’t blame them one bit.

Kray hadn’t locked Galo up because he was awesome.

the thought hits him like a train and his brows furrow involuntarily. he’d been trying to cheer them both up, but had circled back to upsetting thoughts in no time at all. his idol, his hero…the man he’d looked up to as a savior for so long was nothing of the sort. sure, Galo had gotten to where he was through hard work and determination, but separating his own personal triumphs from the opportunities given to him solely by Kray’s influence was proving to be difficult.

this would take time to heal from. time and lots of thinking.

“Anyway,” he continues, crossing his arms over his chest, as if physically protecting his own heart from aching any further, “You think we’re the only ones from back home that got taken? I mean, I know we’re main character types, but it’s kind of unnatural, y’know? We’d be a hell of a lot more useful with our friends.”

“Awesome.”       He parrots the word with a bemused sort of tone, brow furrowing. He’s used to being awe-inspiring, perhaps, if only in his armor, though that is hardly an option now. He pushes the thought of his lost abilities aside, not yet wanting to deal with how similar his new ones are either. Instead he focuses on the way Galo goes quiet for a moment, stuck inside whatever train of thought is roaring through that decidedly one-track mind. Whatever it is doesn’t seem pleasant, and Lio almost scoffs at himself the second he thinks it.        Of course it’s probably not pleasant; not much of what’s happened to him in the last week is. “I suppose that’s one thing to call us,” he begins, slow, pensive, eyes tracking along the tightening of Galo’s arms with a huff. “Though I’m sure there are another few choice adjectives our comrades might have in mind.”        ‘Reckless’ being first and foremost among them. Admittedly, even though Lio is usually far more careful, his interactions with Galo Thymos have made him realize one thing: the man is a hazard. To Lio’s self-control, at the very least. He isn’t sure how or why, but it’s too easy a thing for him to be caught up in Galo’s pace, dragged along on rides he doesn’t remember boarding until suddenly, he’s hip-deep in trouble and losing all semblance of restraint. If Galo ever figured it out, it’d probably be even more hazardous.        So Lio will just have to make sure he doesn’t. 

“You sleep in the most unusual places.” It’s a talent for which Lio has just the slightest bit of jealousy, if only considering his inability to sleep well no matter where he is. Sprawled almost leisurely along a sunny outcropping, Kingscholar’s form is immobile, not even remotely acknowledging Lio’s presence. He knows he’s been heard though, and being ignored isn’t something he cares to deal with even from people he actually likes. But he needs the other to get up so they can get to work, and he’s not keen on having him be the reason for a dip in his grades.  (He’ll save that particular honor for Meis and Gueira.)

     For the first time in his life, Lio almost burns. His fingers, previously curled around a conjured flame, go slack and shake out, putting out the last curls of flame from his fingertips. He’s wearing gloves this time, so the possible damage isn’t nearly what it could’ve been, but it’s still difficult to process. These flames aren’t like Burnish flames at all, and he’s not sure he’s a fan of it. A part of him can’t really bring himself to complain about it, however. After all, he may be the only Burnish in this world, but he can only imagine how many of his fellows would gladly give whatever they have for a second chance in the fire.  (If he’s honest with himself, he’s one of them.)       Part of him wants to try again, but his lack of control is an issue, and he won’t care to try it again until he can handle it properly. The only problem now is...

      “A machine...?” For a moment, Lio is reminded of the Matoi, for some reason, though the other... person’s(?) colors don’t match it in the slightest. Lio doesn’t realize he’s spoken aloud until two bright, glowing eyes swivel in his direction, at which point he starts slightly before frowning- to himself, mostly- and then turning to face the other properly. 

“C’mon, Lio! This is serious!” Galo practically whines the retort and he looks quite like a deer in headlights. he’s no stranger to fire, of course, and definitely not to people with the ability to control it, but he had never experienced the true sensation of conjuring a ball of flame in his hand. plus, this fire was just…regular. much different from the promare. it wasn’t like Lio’s flames at all; those he had come to equate with comfort. safety. life. the one he’d started hadn’t been like that– the melted plastic on his glove attests to it. “I can’t be a firefighter who starts fires! That’s so against the rules–! One time, sure, but two?”

he allows himself a few more moments to freak out, in which he mostly murmurs about how the tables have turned all of a sudden and how is he supposed to deal with something he can’t control? and is this actually a bad thing?

“Gah… This whole place has got me all out of sorts.” Galo takes a deep breath and lets it out rather exaggeratedly before standing up straight. crisis aside, he is happy to see Lio. the glee he had before accidentally setting his own hand ablaze had only taken a temporary backseat to panic and now that the main dread had dissipated, his joy and relief starts to creep back slowly. worried though he may be, he wants to be happy. something tells him they’ll have a lot of time to figure everything out. “Starting fires is one thing, but both of us being here seems like the bigger problem.”

in an attempt to lighten the mood, Galo laughs as a thought suddenly comes to mind.

“Neither of us have a great track record with getting captured, huh?”

      “Who knows,” Lio begins, humor coloring the low hum of his voice, “you might be able to. There’s a saying about fighting fire with fire, right?” It’s a principle that should work with fires that aren’t Burnish-made, at least. To a degree, in any case, and really that’s more Galo’s wheelhouse than his. Lio just wants to get that sullen look off his face before it catches; Galo being annoying is one thing. Galo being distressed just seems... wrong somehow. “Technically though, this is three,” he adds, and he shouldn’t be enjoying teasing him so much, but it’s how he functions with Meis and Gueira so it should work fine here too. “Even if no one got hurt, Galo de Lion started a pretty big blaze, didn’t it?”            His arms cross as he speaks, somewhere between amused and concerned, but figures it’s best to simply let Galo talk himself through things. However, the point of the two of them being here brings up a concern that Lio shelves for a later time, instead choosing to watch as Galo, somehow, manages to lift his own spirits. It would be impressive if it weren’t a little off-putting, and something tells him that there’s something not quite right about it. He brushes it aside, and shrugs lightly at Galo, fingertips tightening on his bicep.  “No, I suppose we don’t.” It’s almost absurd how many times this makes for the both of them in the span of a few days, but at least this time, he can say with some degree of certainty, that neither of them could have seen this coming. Despite himself, he feels the urge to laugh along with him, but muddles it down to a huff of a sound, light and contained. 

      There is no more fire in his body, and the one that springs from his fingertips here is little more than heat. Lio stares at the flames in his palm, simple and mediocre, hovering just-shy of his gloves as if waiting to be told what to do. Instinct does nothing, and (for the moment, not that he’s aware) even attempting to will it is pointless. The curl of his fingers extinguishes it, and he sighs and pushes himself to his feet, wary that he hasn’t dropped any sparks onto the grass. Satisfied, he closes his eyes and runs the still-warm palm of his hand along the back of his neck.            His shoulders remain tense and he sighs as he turns to take a step away, back toward the place he’s meant to stay for the time being.   “I don’t know what I expected...”