Event | Landfall | Bresilyk | Countryside

[ironwood]

Characters: Any and all!
Date: December 3 - 11, 2013
Location: Bresilyk countryside (landfall)
Situation: Tu Vishan makes landfall at the winterbound republic of Bresilyk!
Warnings/Rating: Please include warnings in comment subject lines

OOC Post | Approved Items | Special Gifts
Aihsohlow | Phorezton | Markutte | Countryside

The countryside is layered with snow that is up to four meters deep, all fallen within the past two months as a cold season falls upon the country. There are numerous roads in between towns and small, domed minesteads and each road is oddly clear of snow and ice. Closer inspection reveals that the surfaces are heated by some technology buried beneath the black surfaces. Occasional construction crews can be seen tearing up or laying down new surfacing over a web of thick, coated wires that presumably provide the heat. Snow is often found sculpted near crossroads, taking artistic shape in anything from beautifully arched sculptures to recreations of local fauna.

Wildlife can be spotted here and there, with a large herd of antlered beasts making their way across the snowy grounds. Webbing between their toes (yes, toes) allows each of the large, white animals to traverse upon the snow-tops with barely a print left in their wake. Hunting parties can be seen chasing after the fringes of this herd while wearing some sort of hovering harness and it is evident that the beasts are a primary source of meat for the people. Birds flit back and forth, a few predatory mammals can be spied at the edges of the icebound forests, and there are a variety of serpentine pets kept by residents fortunate to live in the warmer domed towns.

Speaking of towns, the three within the barrier's reach are spaced roughly twenty kilometres away from one another, forming a triangle of commerce that sustains each. Aihsohlow represents the southernmost town, Phorezton the northernmost, and Markutte the northeastern one. There are a variety of small minesteads in between that would greet travellers, but only reluctantly allow them into their homes. Stories abound of troubles outside the domes and they are not apt to invite said troubles inside.

Roadways | Minesteads | Other

Comments

[imaginate]

[He murmurs, contentedly. It's funny to do this out here, where someone might see, but it's also relieving. Not that it felt like hiding - he was accustomed to more privacy.]

[Quietly:] Guess I wouldn't have this job and keep it if I didn't care at all, huh?

[jirk]

[... Funny, he'd almost expected Kyle to fight him on that. The fact that he doesn't is a stark reminder of how far they've come, so fast. Leaping without looking. Right.]

It's not always a bad thing to care about people's opinions, man. Otherwise how'd we know what to reach for?

[imaginate]

[He shifts so that he's looking at Jim, expression curiously blank.]

Harps and vengeance. It's not usual.

[They are scared of what I've been made into.]

[jirk]

[He holds up his index finger.]

First of all, screw usual. Second of all, some of us like it that way.

[imaginate]

[He sighs, heavily, looks away, towards the wall.]

It's a tidal wave and it's hard not to drown. I have to choose my battles.

[He doesn't voice the rest: what is so bad about wanting to be normal?]

[jirk]

[Jim sits up, dislodging Kyle, though he steadies him with both chilled hands. He doesn't need to voice the rest, Jim can read it in his silences.]

What's up?

[imaginate]

You brought it up - I'm telling you the truth.

[Far from being defensive, he remains genuinely matter-of fact.]

I'm an exception of a different kind from you, okay?

[jirk]

I never said you weren't.

[His brow wrinkles in confusion.]

I didn't really mean with-- this. [A vague handwave, implying their conversation.] I meant you. Something's up.

[imaginate]

[Rather than argue, he frowns in thought, rubbing Jim's hands for warmth. There's very little wind out here and the sky is gorgeous to look at: with its streaks of red, and Kyle's thoughts drift to various topics before he just shakes his head.]

There might be? I don't know. I've never spent this long marooned somewhere.

[jirk]

[He snorts, a little bitter. It's something he tries not to show or think about or even dwell on, but-- t'is the season, or something.]

I really do not recommend it.

[But in more serious news... he leans in, kisses Kyle's forehead.]

You'll figure it out, sweetheart. Just know you're not alone, all right?

[imaginate]

[They both feel it - they just react in different ways. Kyle's become more withdrawn, methodical. He keeps to a rigid routine: everything in its place, and tries desperately to suppress everything and lock it away behind the doors in his mind.]

[Lately, it's just not working. He sees shadows where there should be none.]

Little too late.

[He squeezes Jim's hand.]

Guess that's kind of why I'm telling you.

[I don't want to be alone in this.]

[jirk]

[Jim's smile is affectionately lopsided. Somehow, along the way, Kyle's learned to trust in that, not being alone. Jim still has no idea how it happened (was it back in that airless room? It seems so long ago now) but it still does him a world of good, to see how far Kyle's come. He brings up their tangled hand and kisses his knuckles carefully.]

In this mess together, huh?

[imaginate]

[If asked, he wouldn't know. He invariably tries to carry the burden all by himself but Jim's dealt so much and fought so hard that Kyle's relented in this matter; learnt to overcome, and ask. It's a slow process, that of roots breaking pavement in search of more room, and it's a struggle, but step by step, he's walking.]

[Quietly:] Always.

[He tilts his head, watching Jim.]

Doesn't matter what happens. We'll be close.

[The sex, that might end. But knowing each other this well, that won't go away.]

[jirk]

[He's described Kyle as crew more than once. Not that Jim would ever actually sleep with a member of his crew - there's too much there that could be taken as an abuse of authority, and he's not a fan of those implications - but it's the only frame of reference he has for caring for someone enough that he'd die for them without a second thought. Like crew, but not quite. Just differently enough that they fit, that this works.

It might not be forever. They went into this knowing that. Hell, Jim's pretty sure both of them are still more-or-less straight, and damn does he miss having a partner with a great rack, but he's learned to look for other assets, and it's enough. The domesticity still weirds him out sometimes, but it's enough.

Jim kisses the tips of his fingers, thrilled a little at the public affection. Sure there's no one around for miles, but it's still somewhere other than the closed quarters of their (their?) suite.]

I care about you. That's not going anywhere.

[His tone's firm. He doesn't like using the word love, but he's never been one to dance around admittance of affection. Jim cares about everyone casually, it's part of why he's--

A good captain.

The revelation is like a blow, and Jim sits back against the snow with a thoughtful twist to his expression. All this time, all they've done, he's doubted himself. And now--

Just like that, it's gone. He may have come easy into a position he wasn't ready for. He's spent months thinking that maybe it was wrong, that he should have had more training, more time. That maybe Marcus wouldn't have tricked him if he'd just--

But whether or not it's happened to him in his timeline yet, it's over. Maybe it'll play out the same way, maybe it won't, but the Enterprise is his ship, and he's her captain, and maybe he never earned it, but he's fought to keep it just the same. And he's learning. One day he'll go back and be a better man than he was. Maybe some day he'll even deserve her.

He exhales once, it's a little unsettled noise, and then he hooks Kyle's knee and flips him into the snowbank.]

You're good for me.

[He says that, firm.]

And I'm good for you too. Everything after that's easy, Angel.

[imaginate]

[In the back of his mind, forged there by knives and electricity and windowless rooms is the voice that says you will leave, everyone does. Before Keeliai he'd never been someone's first choice for anything and -- Damian telling him he was a good person came as a shock, as much of one if he'd said it in reverse, that he chose this Robin without having to choose, and stuck by it.]

[He'd felt like a charity case, all those months ago, when homesickness was needle-sharp and for all Guy wanted to - he couldn't take the burden; Kyle refused to hand it over, hoping to lose it. The ocean was always calm if you went deep enough, and some things would stay down there forever.]

I [he'll leave, you'll suffer, everyone leaves, you can't trust, anything could happen] know.

[Maybe it hurts a little, that Jim doesn't quite say love as often, even if he feels it. Kyle knows he does, and has little concept of it, and he can wait. He himself doesn't have the issue - because he falls too deeply and too far, and can't dig himself out of the mess. He has to. He can't keep his oath if he doesn't love - and it was so much easier when he could hear them all, see their dreams, hopes, and crush their despair with only a thought. If only he had power.]

[He has a different power now. A curious plant, searching for the sun, it's not the ring but it's him; it's always what's been inside him. Shayera'd known: the ring never stopped working for you, did it? You see?]

[He exhales, kisses Jim's cheek as his expression turns pensive, intending to turn the tide back to play —]

[— And the world comes crumbling down, a house of cards. He shakes his head, his gaze steady but unaccusing.]

Nothing is easy.

[jirk]

[Jim doesn't correct him. The cynicism runs deep as an ocean chasm and it's all he can do to leave a little light there along the way down. Jim pins him, hands at his wrists.]

This is easy.

[A slight correction.]

Being in love with you. Like breathing.

[imaginate]

[Kyle thinks, you can't breathe in space.]

Good.

[He tilts his chin up, a small smirk plays about his lips.]

[jirk]

[He hates that smirk, it's what Kyle does when he's being a cynic, and it makes everything bittersweet. He brushes at Kyle's hair and then gets back to his feet, hand out to pull him up as well.]

[imaginate]

[He tilts his head questioningly, and then reaches out to take Jim's hand, unhesitatingly.]

[jirk]

[Jim hauls him up and slings an arm around his shoulders.]

Darkness too close?

[It's a curious question, but equally as much it's a what do you need from me?]

[imaginate]

[Kyle leans in, his temple brushing Jim's cheek.]

Heard this song? "Candle in the Wind" ?

[jirk]

No. Enlighten me?

[He doesn't quite ruffle Kyle's hair, but he does lift a hand to it absently.]

[imaginate]

[His eyes flick upwards, to the streaks in the sky; his pace doesn't slow.]

Title's self-explanatory, hm?

[jirk]

[This place is a warzone. It hits him, then. That's why Kyle's so relaxed. Cautiously,]

Are you the candle or the wind?

[imaginate]

[It's not the answer he expected; he stops, abrupt, feeling his feet sink into the snow a few millimetres. Each and every name he's heard over the years: torch bearer, final light of the universe, avenging angel echoes, in every language, some more coarse than others.]

Harps or vengeance.

[Wryly, as he rubs his shoe against the other, getting some of the ice off it.]

What do you think?

[He knows he doesn't have the force of personality that Jim does, at least, not openly; nonetheless, he's every bit as capable of being unstoppable, and frequently has been.]

[He prefers to be the candle, the underdog, struggling to survive against all odds. And only when Jim asks, that Kyle wonders how often he's been at the other end of that very comparison.]