Hey, Chase. Thatâs longer than your usual one or two word titles. Shh. SHHHHH.
In which Koteus finds himself surrounded by his loved ones and has a real normal one about it.
Inspired by I lost my gloves yesterday.
[doc]
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Even Divian had to admit, seeing the sorry state that the once proud pair found themselves in over the last handful of sweeps was⌠Alarming. Almost enough to shake his own resolve, as rooted as it was. To call it a bittersweet reunion would be an understatement. He wouldnât wish the crushing weight of the guilt on their shoulders on his own worst enemy, couldnât imagine how heavy it all was.
Somehow, though, in the name of the holidays they managed to pull themselves together for the festivities. Anyone not looking too closely might even mistake Koteus and Kleihe for their old selves as the former sat on the floor distracting the children from trying to run in and out of the kitchen, the latter having an animated discussion in a language that tasted like home with people until very recently heâd been convinced were dead or otherwise out of his reach. Divian was not anyone, though. He could see that they were tired.
Fingers of hands left idle for too long tapping along the floor rhythmically, a perfectly timed laugh to mask a yawn. A moment of eye contact between the pair that communicated nearly imperceptibly something that only the other would catch.
They couldnât just relax, no matter how many members of their family, new or old, were involved. It would take some force to get them to drop their guard.
To allow themselves to feel something. Anything.
Divian knew from experience; Koteus would be the easier target of the two.
Not in front of everyone though, that would be a disaster. Too many variables to keep account of from the more sensitive occupants of the hive to the children. It wasnât until the end of the night that he found his opening. Closer to the start of the day really, everyone was either headed to their rooms or already there when the sun started to drag its overwhelming presence up above the horizon. All except one. Heâd counted on it.
Once he was done tucking Cailen in, he followed the delicate sound of metal beads knocking off of wood and marble back down to the kitchen on the pads of his feet so as not to betray his ploy. It would be nice to catch him with his guard somewhat down. As underhanded as that may have seemed. Drastic times call for drastic measures and all that.
From the doorway, Divian watched as the violet blood moved on from the island, and cleanest countertop heâd ever seen, to the stove from which he wiped away the suds of whatever cleaning product heâd assaulted it with to reveal a surface that held his near perfect reflection. More wiping, more cleaning. Divian's heart ached to see him like that, compulsive habits that were almost completely buried during their time on Toltegan seemed to return with a vengeance. And heâd fostered those rituals over the last however many sweeps uncontested.
âI think itâs clean, Koteus.â He said gently, watching him move to reorganize a cabinet of dishes.
âAlmost done.â Came the response, immediately guarded as Divian expected.
âAre you?â
âNearly.â
âLet me give you a hand then. Get you into bed with Lorinn, Iâm sure heâs missing you.â
âNo.â
Divian sighed and stepped fully into the kitchen. Of course, the obsession was less about the kitchen being clean and more about exercising control over the space. Often was this the case with higher castes, heâd never been surprised to find a seadweller dying to be the master of a space. It didnât much fit Koteus and his typical demeanor though.
âCome now, didnât you receive that arm for the project you were commissioned for? Some rest will do you good.â
âI said no, Finnis.â This time as he responded, he stood a little straighter, broadened his shoulders even, in a subconscious bid to remind him whose title was colonel, a rank he himself never felt properly described him, and who was only the crew therapist. A reminder of the difference in caste between them, some form of primal defense mechanism.
âI think that you need to take a break.â
Silence.
âCome on, it has been a long night. You can get back to it in the evening.â
More silence.
Something in the cabinet cracked. Divian advanced slowly, studying the body language of the behemoth as he did. He knew Koteus didnât have the heart to hurt anyone, that it was only peacocking. On the same hand, accidents can happen.
âIt has to be good enough, Koteus. Come on.â
âYouâre fucking intolerable, did you know?â His voice wavered, he stood stockstill.Â
âMhm. Iâve heard that. I think from your mouth.â Divian paused. âWhat was it again? Korste misplaced some tools, sent you on a tizzy of reorganizing âthe whole damn ship, if I have to.â Very early on into our meeting. Really told us a lot about the young man whose job it was to lead us into the great unknown. The violet blood and his crew of mid and low bloods.â
âShut up.â
âConsensus was that he wasnât so bad. Just a guy forced to do a job he didnât want. Didnât want to boss us around, but it was out of his control. What could he control? The shelf the socket wrench sat on, how far away the different diagnostic tools lived from each other.â
âFuckâs sake. I was there, Divian. Youâre not saying anything new or that I donât know!â
âWell, it isnât really my job to tell you things that you donât know.â
Crunch. The sound of whatever dish he gripped crumbling in his hand. Koteus growled at the new mess in the cabinet. At the lack of control he had over himself.
Emotions were the worst for him in this state.
Standing right behind him, Divian watched his shoulders shake from the tension. âCome now, let me help you.â
âFuck you.â
âMhm, I know.â
Koteus whipped around to stare down at him, his locs jostling restlessly from the movement, the beads that clung onto them bouncing off any and all nearby surfaces.Â
Divian only smiled sadly.
âReally. Fuck you! You think that just because you come back that youâre going to automatically set the world to rights? Are you insane? People died, Finnis. Do you understand? People I was responsible for, that didnât listen to me or Kleihe.â A riot fully out of his control.
He balled his hands into fists at his sides, but made no other moves toward the therapist he loomed over, everything from that night to today washed over his features in a kaleidoscope of emotion. Pain, frustration, sadness, anger. They all flashed in the twitch of his eye, in the furrow of his brows. He was visibly shaking by the time the dam broke and tears escaped containment.
âI know.â
âYou know. Then we got back here, stripped of home and family. Death would have been too good for us, we needed to suffer for our incompetencies. Isnât that fucked up?â A bitter laugh. âEven then, somehow, we found normalcy. We found Dawn. Have they told you about her? It has been the talk of the hive these last few weeks.â
Koteus gestured broadly, Divian nodded.
âShe was amazing. Spectacular. A free spirit that couldnât be put down no matter how volatile Alternia was. Dawn⌠She faced the horrors head on, life could be an adventure. She saved us from ourselves. Do you know what itâs like to have one of the most important people in your life rotting in the bed next to you and not being able to do anything about it because youâre rotting at the same rate? Do you?â
He didnât wait for an answer.
âShe saved us from ourselves and we couldnât even,â He choked on a sob that clawed its way out of his throat and accepted the offer when Divian reached to lead him to take a seat at the table. âI couldnât stop her from leaving that night. I couldnât protect her, every fiber in my being screamed for me to go out the door right after her and drag her back in if I had to. I didnât do anything. Like I never do anything. It was out of my hands.â
Koteus leaned forward in the chair concealing his face behind a veil of his hair as he finally stopped fighting back the tears. His shoulders shook between each desperate sob as he used his left hand to massage the right.
Sure, it was what he set out for since the night began, but it was hard to watch. Divian frowned and rested a gentle hand on his back. After an eternity of Koteus sobbing in silence, the behemoth took in a shaky breath.
âAnd how am I meant to feel sorry for myself when there are still people depending on me to be okay?â
Rubbing his back in circles, small and slow, the jade blood couldnât help but see that same young man from so many sweeps ago sitting before him. Thrust out into a cruel world with only the task to make it crueler in front of him. Forced into shoes far too big, far too soon. There was a lot to be said with going through such forced development, but nothing that would be helpful right now.
Small steps.
âHow long do you think you can go on in survival mode like this? Does it feel sustainable?â
Silence. Koteus took a moment to catch his breath.
âObviously not.â
âWould it kill you? To let us carry that load with you, Koteus? It isnât just the two of you anymore.â
âI know. I donât,â another shaky breath. âI donât know if I can.â
âWeâll work on it. It may never look perfect again, but weâll work on it.â
Koteus lifted his head to look at him for a moment, he looked like heâd aged a hundred sweeps in the last ten minutes, but he forced a sad smile. âIt wonât be easy.â
âAh,â Divian shook his head, wrapped his arm around his shoulders, and shifted into a language that sounded and tasted more like home. âIt does not have to be easy, but that does not mean it cannot be done.âÂ
Koteus nodded slowly, then suddenly pulled him into his arms to bury his face against his chest. He gasped through another world shattering sob, but said nothing else as Divian patted his back quietly.
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You know the song Words of the Wise by Truslow, don't you?
--
The Sailor
The night is cool, with an ocean breeze that rushes toward the dock and welcomes Zurven with a sweet, salty kiss. As far back as he remembers, the sea has always been a welcome escape. It carried his fears away on billowing waves, where they disappeared into a distant horizon, and he was allowed respite from his vanilla scented tomb. Even just for a second. That was the single perk to his time with Persep, a thought he will take to his grave whispers, access to Areiosâs cliffside hive.
Before he has much time to think on and be upset by it, the dock creaks under the weight of someone walking behind him and he turns to meet their gaze.
A troll that was at the same time familiar and entirely new to him fills his field of view. His hair was much shorter when he disappeared, cut tight in order to maintain a proper appearance just like any other pretentious violet blood might have it. Today, it casts down past his shoulders, in waves that resemble the ones he spends his nights navigating.
Shock overtakes the seadwellers features, but it is quickly replaced by a smile that accentuates the scars that pepper his face.
Thatâs another change, imperfections decorate the violet blood in a map that tells the story of where he has been. Of who he is now. A fractured horn and torn ear and fin. This is not the Velrum that disappeared all of those sweeps ago.
Zurven should be surprised, but he knew what to expect. Harlanâs intervention made sure of it.Â
Velrum waves a three fingered hand as he comes closer, and he tries not to let his stare linger. But the gold band around the middle digit draws the eye with the way the twin moons shine off of it. The seadweller does not seem bothered.
âZurven, is that you?â Even his voice doesnât ring with the same uptight, strictness that it did in the past. Instead, it seems light. Free of burden. He comes to sit and lets one of his legs dangle over the sea below.
Though neither of their feet touch the water, Zurven cannot help but notice how much further his own is away from it.
âWow, how long has it been?â
The smaller troll makes like he is looking at a watch that isnât there and shrugs.
Velrum laughs.
âDoesnât matter. Iâm glad to see you..â He pauses to get a good look at him. âOut. Away from all of that.â
The sailor sounds unsure as he speaks, each of the six words enunciated slowly. Worry almost creases his brow.
A quick nod assuages his fear and he lets out a quick sigh.
âGood. It was a fucked up situation.â
âNo kidding.â Zurven sighs. âHow did you do it?â
âHm?â
âMove on from everything.â
Velrum seems taken aback by the question. Anyone who knows anything about Zurven would guess that he would sooner swallow his tongue than choose to speak about this for longer than necessary. Even someone who hasnât seen the brown blood since he was six sweeps old.
The seadweller runs a hand through his hair, knocking it so it cascades down along his back instead of over his shoulder. It frames his face in a way that makes him look much older than he is.
âZurven,â he starts, moving to take one of his hands between both of his. The metal of his jewelry feels cool against the smaller trollâs skin. âTime is a weird thing.â
Zurven's laugh is breathless.
âTell me about it.â
The response he receives is a squeeze, one designed to keep him grounded.
âTime and space are a wonderful tool. They will not heal all of your wounds. They can only provide you with the chance to come to terms with them.â
âThatâs what people say. All the time, itâs what they say.â
âItâs hard as hell, Zurv.â
âDoable?â
âI didnât say impossible, kid.â
Zurven swallows his uncertainty, not really sure what he was expecting to hear in the first place.
The Soldier
Koteus is much easier to track down, despite the claims that he is all but a hermit now. The seadweller lived in the same hive, surrounded by dense forest and an expansive lake from the time he was discharged from the fleet. What is surprising, however, is the sprawling garden that hugs around a considerable length of the hive, and the lively sheet moss that grows up the wall that the hive shares with the garden.
It is a sight to behold.
Certainly not one anyone would expect a so-called shut in to keep up with. Zurven sucks in a deep breath, admiring the warmth of the garden as it brings him to life.
âHey kid, yâlost or somethinâ?â Calls out a yellow blood from the front door, he waves a robotic hand in the air to get his attention.
The brown blood blinks back at him, kicking himself internally for neglecting to account for hivemates when setting out for this trip.
âIâm just here to see Koteus.â He finally says, when the silence blankets them the same way the moss did the residence. âItâs been a while.â
ââCourse you are,â The stranger starts, then pauses to look at a display on his arm. Finally, he motions for him to follow him as he moves back into the hive. âCâmon.â
Zurven nods and toddles along after him.
The yellow blood leads him through a front room and a living room first, where he takes in all the sights the home has to offer. The most important thing he could note was that there were family pictures littered throughout the two rooms. All sorts of faces smiled back at him, with each other, as the pair made their way into a kitchen much larger than he would know what to do with.
âLittle man!â A familiar voice calls out and draws his attention to an island at its center.
Standing there beside it is Koteus, a bright smile on his face and a curtain of dreads that threaten to kiss the floor despite much of it being tied up into a bun. The tattoo on his face obscures much of his expression, but it is easy to tell he is happy.
âLittle is right.â The cyborg emphasizes as he exits the way they entered.
Zurven canât find it in him to be offended by the sentiment, he is easily the shortest person in the room. Aside from the very small human that sits on the counter, handing Koteus bowls of varying sizes with great enthusiasm.
She uses a free hand to wave at him.
âJessie, Zurven. Zurven, Jessie.â
âHi!â Jessie beams, pointing at Zurven and then her own chest. âYour sign?â
âHorologium.â He says pulling the hoodie heâd stolen from his partner tighter around his shoulders, suddenly incredibly self conscious. âItâs a clock.â
âHar-go-lum!â Jessie shouts as she clasps her hands together before getting back to her very serious job of handing the violet blood her bowls.Â
âHawr-uh-lo-jee-um.â He says, slowly this time.
She nods with vigor and goes on to mouth the word Horologium to herself, going through the motions of learning a new difficult word.
He is momentarily taken back to a time when the name of his own sign was foreign to him. Five sweeps old when he learned what to call it, how to pronounce it. Thuein and Lopard were patient, but the pity they felt reigned in their eyes.
A human will learn how to say it better before she hits three sweeps.
Dwelling doesnât last long, Koteusâs voice fills the room again and brings him back from his thoughts.
âHad I known you wanted to meet, I could have met you somewhere more convenient.â His voice is apologetic. âMiddle of nowhere is a little out of the way, yeah?â
âI think I needed the trip.â He admits.
âClear skiesâll cure a cluttered mind like nothing else.â The seadweller says as he lifts the young human off of the counter and sets her on her feet. âSomething on your mind?â
âI think so. If you have time.â
Koteus watches as Jessie quickly finds her way to the entrance of the kitchen and disappears further into the hive. He smiles.
âA spot just opened up.â
Despite his time in the fleet, Koteusâs scars are not physical ones. The only markings on his skin are the tattoos he received from the planet he was stationed on. But the scars on his heart, Zurven thinks, must be innumerable. Impossible to count. Heavy.
He leads Zurven to the table and they sit across from each other.
Koteus looks wiser than he would ever care to admit. Always said wisdom means youâre old.
âLay it on me, little man.â
âYouâve uh. Youâve been through a lot, right?â
âNothing I didnât sign up for.â He sighs. âBut yeah.â
âDoesnât it weigh a ton? How do youââ
âCarry it all?â He interjects, voice soft.
Zurven nods slowly.
The soldier leans forward, causing the beads clinging to his dreads to knock against the table between them.
âNot all at once, and never on my own.â He whispers, and the safety of Benjins hoodie starts to feel more real.
The Magician
There is a market in the city, filled with fresh produce from the grounds of the House of Restoration and other goods ferried from parts of Alternia the typical city dweller would never find the time to visit.
Zurven stands among the produce, fighting hard to remember the instructions given to him by Achina on how to pick out the perfect avocado. He is fairly certain the one in his hand is hard enough to give someone a concussion.
âNah, brother. You try ân eat somethinâ that unripe itâll knock your teeth right outta your skull.â
Zurvens gaze drifts from the rock in his hand to the observer he must have been preventing from getting one of his own.
âThink yaâ gotta put it in a paper bag to make it ripe faster or somethinâ. Unless youâre tryinâa--â
The purple blood stops cold as they lock eyes, the recognition on either side is instantaneous. The swirly face paint that starts at the tip of his nose and spirals outward takes Zurven back to a place he doesnât want to be and he gives the avocado a harsh squeeze. Hard as a baseball, it does not yield to his attempted mutilation.
âShit! Little fuckinâ, Curly top? Zurven? Damn! You grown up, huh?â The clown sputters out clumsily, measuring Zurven up with his hand as he does.
âDidnât see you none once the. Well, yâknow.â He says as he mimes a hand over his left eye, mimicking the trauma Persep subjected his illusionist friend to. âAnd youâre all out and about and shit, huh?â
âItâs nice to see you too, Parcae.â Zurven mumbles, resisting the urge that threatens to pull his thoughts back to the past. âYouâre always so peppy, despite everything. Thatâs a real wonder to me-- â
The brown blood is cut off by the magician as he scoops him up into his arms and crushes him close against his chest.
Zurven goes stiff.
âNah, we ainât talkinâ about me. Weâre talking about you!â He does not seem to care that the display is causing his suit jacket to wrinkle. Not that that really comes as a surprise. âBeen thinkinâ about you, brother. Always wanted to scoop yâup like that and let ya know how you were always stronger than you shoulda had to be and shit.â
He says nothing.
âYâknow? Iâm thinkinâ youâre one a the strongest guys I ever met. Iâm thinkinâ you could survive anything, brother.â
Like the avocado in his hand will in a few days, Zurven softens. He wraps his arms around Parcae and breathes out a shaky sight as his tears start to stain the collar of his dress shirt.
does koteus like to cook at all? what's his favorite food?
My good and best of friends Koteus Mytoni, now you think accomplished astronomer, star charter, fucking roboticist extraordinaire would at least have +1 skill in the cooking department but no my good bitch Koteus put all of his stats into charisma and robots you see. Koteus can make exactly one thing, he makes it well, but it is one thing.
The thing is nachos.
And I know what youâre thinking, Reid how the hell did Koteus survive umpteen sweeps on his own without dying of malnutrition and Iâm here to tell you that my good bitch Koteus has probably eaten more hot pockets in his life time than Iâve seen. Koteus can make you a taco a burrito or a plate of nachos, and you better be god damn thankful for it.
Where is my special boy!! Koteus!! Where is he? What's he up to?!
who# me? i do#n't get a lo#t o#f attentio#n here usually.
i'm at ho#me, i guess. wrapping up the ho#lidays with my extremely large family. they do#n't have to# wo#rry abo#ut the cleanup, i had it handled by the time they made it to# bed.
i'm so#rry if yo#u weren't lo#o#king fo#r the do#mestic answer yo#u go#t tho#ugh.
i did make so#me nacho#s if yo#u were interested in sharing with me.
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