the immaculate one

"Oh, uh, h-hello!" He raised a hand in greeting, calling over the distance. Quickly he fumbled the glasses back onto his face. He understood by now that he didn't have to hide his powers here... but it was habit. It was what he was used to.

brows knit . odd is the man who blinded himself amongst the trees . as odd as his greeting . so unassertive . uncertain . in turn , it graveled her own certainty and shook her own resolve . . . for who greeted an intruder ??

" er , " seiros squinted , raising the palm that once shadowed over her blade . she mirrored his wave , echoing , " h . . . hello . "

. . .

. . .

it was not a terrible understanding , once it settled . nay . t'was only the small things ; the way seiros lips curled into a pinched smile at the prospect of asserting herself . . . KNOWING SHE WOULD PREVAIL . within that fleeting smile : a memory . for seiros smiled like lady sif .

❝ . . . forgive me . ❞ thor sighed , raising a hand to wave off his momentary lapse in attention . as he gestured for seiros to repeat herself , he feared it was only right to explain . ❝ . . . you reminded me of a dear friend just now . ❞

heel plodded upon stone , commanding itself an anchor to its earthen ways .

for nobody here knew how she once commanded the winds as her own . the sky was her domain , and while she was now chained to the earths below , such chains could never truly deprive her the rush of feeling tormented by the crash of air within her chest . it burned wild within her .

for she felt a stark juxtaposition to thor's calm after a run . her blood coursed . and in the corner of her eye , she could see that they were not alike . not in this way .

lungs heaved . nostrils flared . face flushed . she'd been lashed by the winds of their run , rose nipped hands pinched upon the small of her waist for support . yet seiros turned to face the winds and basked in the drawl of her body's recovery -- and thor so asked her forgiveness for memory's pang ??

bah !! surely , pacing himself to her left him with too much wind . seiros's head shook , incredulous : " never apologize . "

memory was a blessing , as was the air they breathed . and to become one is to become a memorial . a gust .

Something floral. Chemical. Perfume. He could clock it instantly no matter how subtle it was. It made him wrinkle his nose.

He sniffed again, turning to the source.

One door down, a woman in the little yard outside of the townhouse. One of the neighbors. Huh.

Then she looked at him. "Sorry. Didn' mean ta stare."

she'd heard him . the man who wandered into her solitude . he might not have been especially loud , but she always alert . even among the peace of the summer shades and wind whistled brush --

" i did not notice . " seiros lied .

rather , she hadn't cared . hadn't minded his attention . for if he came with a threat in his heart , so be it . she'd challenge it .

so , seiros stared back , without an ounce of the same shame . cat twirled itself around her touch , fingers skimming it's fur . her own stare did not falter . it did not wane . heavy upon her trespasser .

Here? Maybe there could be some guidance. Seiros could help him, and maybe in turn he could help her.

fingers curl around his , a pact formed . a touch so gentle and unlike her -- a touch reserved for those she would protect . seiros did not know the ways she could help . but she knew that she wanted to . such was the mark of the progenitor upon her conscious .

" please . if you are to follow me . . . please , call me immaculate one when we are in private . if we are to bond as members of the same kind , you should know my true name . "

From what Marcellus sees, she carries so much that it weighs on her. There is so much that needs to be done. Too many responsibilities, and he understands that better than anyone.

Tried to do the right things...

And he doesn't at all doubt that. He turns to look at her. Where she helped humans, he hid from them. It's admirable to hear what she's done.

brows furrowed , and jaw clicked . struck by the request , seiros quieted into a pensive sort of quiet reserved for consultations with the goddess herself . the voice that accompanied her and put the weight behind her blade , and whose judgement guided her every move .

nobody had ever asked seiros to rise . she had simply risen when the time was right . and in many ways , was it not the natural way of things ?? there must be a purpose behind her birth . to be born and called perfection by the goddess herself could be no coincidence .

the blood which ran so thick though her veins . . . gifted by one who spilled so much of it so that the world might prosper .

marcellus , while like her , was not of her pack . he had no hand in her affairs , but he was still enough like her to be compelling . and if he so called upon her to be a stone , she would grind herself into the earth the very same : for her pack was so small , and she was so needing .

Clark had… never exactly imagined feeling so much like a child again when it came to his powers. So out of control with them. So inexplicably new and inexperienced to these things which he had lived with for at least two decades if not more. Then again, the first things he had gotten back had always been the hardest to reign in and demand control over.

Heat vision. Super hearing.

It had taken so much trial and error to learn how to focus his hearing in on certain sounds or block out all of the rest of the noise. To focus on not hearing absolutely everything all at once. It had taken years to gain the sort of precision he was used to having over his heat vision. …He could only hope that it wouldn't be that way again. Maybe his body just needed to adjust to having these abilities again.

At the moment he was just trying to get control of things again. Some modicum of a return to normal so that he'd be able to function at work. So that he wouldn't be a danger.

However, as he was about to work on regaining control over his heat vision, a noise caught his ear. Still somewhat far off, but Clark could hear someone walking through the woods.

old habits die hard , and seiros was a creature of habit . for as much time as she spent in the city , seiros equally spent among the trees , surveying for no cause but her own lust for purpose in a purposeless land . she had at one time lingered lost the very same as now , and so with no certain hope or aspiration . . . the young woman cut paths between pockets of brush with a watchful eye .

and mostly , she did not come across a single soul . aside for today , that was . perched at the farthest edge of a small clearing , where forest ivy still shadowed the sun like loose knit chainmail , seiros paused . as alert as a doe : she took no further step and entered not into the opening .

tongue perched against the back of her teeth , as if on the precipice of speech . as if burdened by the sheer scope of his request , seiros acquiesced to crimping and folding the edges of her thoughts into brief , neat phrases . it was easier that way , to press her nail into the flesh between finger and thumb and trim away the excess .

and to pray her words might not crumble beneath the weight they carry , for her truth was simple !! which only made it heavy . seiros had lived countless lives and yet not a single one whole .

" all i have ever tried to do are the right things . "

by all means she did not owe humanity a goddess , but she had seen what became of a godless land . a land so long plagued by bandits -- thieves who raided and pillaged indiscriminately . who destroyed homes and broke apart families and livelihoods .

and these were the natural consequences of humanity's folly .

but even so , she cured them of their plagues . she fended off their enemies . she united their people under a common banner . . . and under a goddess who died by their sins . perhaps because she was born of a goddess that her compassion should not mystify her so . and yet --