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Story
+ Angel Hunt ~ Streifen +
Future Effects
Twenty Years brings many changes...
A story collaboration between Angel Hunt and Streifen
Twightlight
[02]
Lan pulls his fingers back as he stares at it, debating for only a moment on whether he truly wants to touch it or not. He knows what will happen if he does and while he can’t help wanting to learn more of the one who’s -at least for the time being, been kind enough to take him in, touching it would feed him emotion he knows he has no right to be experiencing. Sashi had stayed out of his head, asking him to do it in kind and while this wouldn’t be the same as attempting to breach his thoughts, it would still show him something he’d agreed not to look for. Curling his fingers back without touching the machine, the Bright straightens and moves away, reaching down to pull a cigarette free of the opened pack before exiting room. Bare feet carry him through the large house towards the south side and out into the crisp winter air.
He could barely feel the cold these days though, his body heat far above what it should be because of what they’d done. So even standing outside on the wide carved wooden deck with only a thin kimono covering his form in the dead of the night near the Dewa Mountains in the middle of winter, mattered little in the end. It might as well be summer for all he could tell any more. With a sigh, a small flare lights the tip of the cigarette and he inhales deeply while staring out into the sky above. It was peaceful here… quiet and secluded. The Dark was such a welcome relief, very comfortable to be around. A comfort he almost didn’t want to enjoy because it worried him a little. There’s still a part of him that’s scared he’ll wake up any moment, either out on the road or back in that lab. He doesn’t like those thoughts and he wishes he could get them to go away, he wishes his mind would allow him believe reality without doubt for a change. It’s been years since he broke free so how many more would it take for it to sink in that he truly is free? After a moment he slowly lets the smoke free of his lungs before pulling his eyes away from the darkness before him to look down at the smoldering cigarette in his hand.
“Sorry Hail…” he whispers as scarred fingers reach up to thread into wet locks, pushing dripping bangs free of his eyes again before his gaze slides back up to the night sky.
Sashi: Neatly drawn patterns of intersecting lines, circles, and symbols march across the thin strip of gold edged paper like so many ants at a picnic. Brush held between long fingers, the Dark looks down at the most recent one he’d written and frowns. Despite how flawless the rest of the scroll looks, this was the forth time he’d fucked up since starting this an hour ago. Working on new spells had always been a way to de-stress for him, so he thought that sitting down to finally write this one out would be the same, but apparently not. He was still too distracted and the results were just like when he’d tried sitting down to write earlier.
Dropping the brush onto the tray that holds the pots of ink, Sashi closes the notebook he’d been copying out of and stands up. All this shit tonight—what had he been thinking? First bringing the Bright into the house and then telling him he could stay? What the hell is wrong with him? There’s a reason he lives up here in the middle of nowhere with so few people around. It’s easier for everyone if he keeps to himself and stays up in the remote mountains. This way no one feels threatened and he doesn’t have to put up with stupidity or anyone asinine enough to try to ‘prove’ themselves by fighting him. He’ll admit that he gets lonely at times, but overall it’s just… better, this way.
So what the hell is all this? He’s not feeling particularly lonely or anything since Zeph and Jun had visited last week, so it’s not like he just wants company. Is it the magic? The mix of the three different types of magic was unheard of, and he is curious as to how Kealani had ended up with them, but he’d been exposed to two of them before, so they weren’t that much of a novelty. Maybe it’s the whole random circumstances of the Bright just showing up out of nowhere and lugging along the baggage of a possibly dead partner, a profound relief at discovering he’s not the last Selestarri alive, and a disinterest in returning to his home. That last part is really strange since he’s never heard of a Bright—or Dark or Streaked for that matter—that doesn’t want to see the Eyrie...
The frown remains settled over Sashi’s face as he pulls out a clean kimono and drops it onto his bed. Tugging the thick sweater over his head, he shivers while slender fingers quickly trace out the patterns for the heat spell. He needs to go soak in the hot spring for a bit and try to relax before going to bed and that means dealing with the cold again. It was worth it though for the heat of the water that more than any space heater or spell could warm him all the way to his bones. Tying off the patterns, he channels a thread of golden magic into it, a small sigh leaving his lips as it wraps over him like a second skin and disappears. Removing the rest of his clothing, Sashi slips into the loose kimono and ties it with a black cord at his hips. Pitch colored wings unseal as he crosses to the dresser and opens the top of an elaborately carved and lacquered box. Pulling out an elastic tie, he begins to gather thick strands of waist-length hair into a ponytail. Securing it tightly, the telepath flips loose bangs from his eyes and moves to the sliding door that leads to the deck and hot spring beyond. Just as he sets a hand on the frame, the Bright’s presence draws close and the sound of the outside door softly opens and closes. Apparently he’ll be sharing the hot spring…
Yellow light spills out onto the wooden structure, overriding the soft silver of the moon and stars for a moment before the Dark pulls the door shut behind him. Deep shadows instantly stretch toward him as storm gray eyes settle on the Bright. Kealani looks even more slender wrapped in the borrowed kimono, his warm yellow gaze shifting up from the lit cigarette in his hand. There is something slightly sad about the white-haired Selestarri, but it’s gone a moment after Sashi notices and is replaced by a smile that doesn’t quite reach his exotic eyes. Earlier Kealani had said that he wasn’t like the Dark he’d met before, but the telepath is beginning to think that the same might be said about the Bright.
[Pretty, isn’t it?] When the other Selestarri doesn’t respond right away, Sashi indicates the trees and night sky beyond the deck. Christ, he’s so bad at making small talk… [The sun rises over the mountains in the morning and when it lights everything just after a snowfall, it’s beautiful…even if it is fucking cold as hell.] As if to punctuate his words a small shiver wracks Sashi’s slender frame even with the warmth spell. He’s not dressed to be out here long without being submerged in the heated water. Opening a large box next to the door, he pulls out a pair of towels and hands one to the Bright as he passes him and descends the trio of stairs that leads down to the hot spring.
The rock is smooth and cold beneath his feet and the steaming water gleams in the silvery light from above. [I said before that I wouldn’t go into your head,] Long fingers unknot the black cord and Sashi lets it slip to the ground, his back to the house. [But if you’re going to be… staying here… for a while, then I have a few questions.] Hot water envelopes the Dark up to his shins and he slides the kimono off his shoulders and lets it drop with a rustle of fabric before taking the next deeper step. With a quiet sigh, he sinks low, the heat finally killing off the last of the cold. Turning around, he slides back toward the edge of the pool, arranging his wings and turning his gaze on the Bright who still stands in the shadows of the deck. [Who told you that you were the last of the Selestarri, Kealani?]
Lan: Sun warmed eyes remain fixed on the Dark as he moves down the steps and into the spring below. His gaze travels slowly over toned caramel colored skin beneath pitch wings as the kimono slides completely free of Sashi’s body before he sinks into the water beyond. The Bright continues to watch the other in silence through the thick steam rising from the surface as he adjusts himself back against the edge before finally stepping from the shadows and setting the towel down on the wooden deck near the steps. The white-haired Selestarri moves around the outer edge of the small pool opposite to the Dark, the thin kimono draping his slender form dragging along the heated stones beneath him. Pulling the cigarette up to his lips to free his hands, Lan reaches down to gather the fabric up around his knees. Storm grey eyes travel to the pale skin of bare legs when the heavy marks riddling the Bright’s body become illuminated softly in the surrounding dim light of the spring. Tucking the kimono beneath him, Lan seats himself at the very edge and lets his legs sink into the heated water soon after. Releasing the kimono into his lap, he leans back on his palm while sliding scarred fingers up to finally pull the cigarette free of his mouth, exhaling the smoke into the night air above. Yellow eyes travel up to watch while tendrils rise, blending with the steam emanating from the water before shifting back down to the Dark before him.
[Lan…] he smiles [My friends call me Lan so please do the same. Only the elders ever bothered to use my full name and even now when I hear it, it reminds me too much of being in front of a bunch of stuffy old men and women …none of which you are…] His gaze drops down to his own legs dangling in the heated liquid and he stares at them for a few moments in silence before yellow eyes slide back up to the sky above. [There’s this group…] the Bright pulls the cigarette up to his lips and takes another long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs for a minute before slowly letting it out [… back in the States, some organization run by these things…] he narrows his eyes and his voice hardens in the slightest. [They call themselves Angels.] Lan trails for a moment, simply staring up into the darkness above them, his tone softening when he finally continues. [You know how humans have always idolized us because of our wings, our magic and the things we do for them… we get called Angels all the time and I always took it for granted. I always thought they called us that because they didn’t know any better… you know how they are… how they need to label everything in their world because they fear dealing with the unknown. I always thought the word “Angel” was just their label for us so we’d no longer be the unknown to them…] he smirks, sliding the cigarette back up to his lips without ever looking back down. [I never even dreamed there was actually a race out there that had already claimed the title…]
The white haired Selestarri sighs. [A little under twenty years ago I was ‘privileged’ enough to meet this race for the first time and … well… they promptly tore my world apart.] The Bright stops and closes his eyes against the emotional impact of his own words. They did more than just tear his world apart, they took everything from him. Absolutely everything. Furrowing his brows as he feels the fire quickly building inside, he works to push the memories down, stifling it before it can take hold. Reopening his eyes a moment later, he pushes himself off his palm and leans forward to rest his arms across his knees while his eyes fix on his own damaged hands.
[Anyway, they run this huge corporation that I didn’t even know existed until I managed to break free. For the first couple of years that I was under, I believed those Angels I met were working for the humans in that place. I thought it was something small, maybe a group in their government or something… I found out soon enough that it was the other way around…] without removing his arm, he slides his hand up to take another long drag of the cigarette, tapping the ash into his other hand as he exhales [But at that time I had no idea how big it all actually was, or how extensive their entire network was…] The Bright taps lingering ash into his hand again, yellow eyes rising to meet the storm grey before him [The same ones that did all this] Lan raises a hand to Sashi and motions towards himself [and this…] taking a final drag, the white haired Selestarri’s gaze travels back to his cupped hand and he sets the smoldering end of the cigarette into the ash resting in his palm. Concentrating for only a moment, the items combust in his grip to leave nothing but blackened soot behind. [Also had me convinced I was the last…]
Straightening, Lan raises his hand above him, the kimono sleeve sliding down a heavily marked arm as he tosses the black ash high into the air. His gaze shifts up again to watch as the night wind carries it away from them before he pats his hands together, leaning back on his palms a moment later. […I held out for as long as I could, I really did… but… I guess everyone has a breaking point and they finally managed to push me past mine a few years ago…]
Sashi: The Dark listens in silence as Lan speaks, gray eyes watching closely as the cigarette is disintegrated in his hand and the black soot scattered by the wind. Somehow he’s not surprised at all to learn that the Angels were involved in what had happened to the Bright. For all that they go on about how special they are and how they’ve been chosen for dominion over all, they are far too wrapped up the other races. Maybe it was only a matter of time before they went looking for another Selestarri since they hadn’t imprisoned Aki long enough to really learn all that they wished. It doesn’t make what they did to Lan right, but the idea that they would do such a thing is not shocking in the slightest.
Tapered fingers slide up to push strands of black from his face as he regards the Bright from across the spring for a long moment. The involvement of the Angels answers the questions of how he ended up with their magic in him as well as why his hair is white. The signs of torture had been clear on Lan’s legs just before he’d sat down, lasting scars that were much more violent than any battle wound could ever be. Something that prolonged would take incredible will to survive. He’d been through both mental and bodily torture in the past and he knew firsthand how hard it was to piece yourself back together after it happened. The desolation and lingering feelings of helplessness were incredibly difficult to overcome, but he’d been lucky to have those who cared about him there to help. Idly he wonders who’s been there for Lan…
Rapidly cooling water drips off pitch-colored wings and runs in rivulets across tanned skin as the Dark rises to his feet. Before he completely realizes what he’s doing, Sashi is moving through the waist-high water, the curtain of steam swirling around him as he crosses to stand in front of the other Selestarri. For some reason he feels the need to see the remnants of his guest’s ordeal up close. He doesn’t have an exact reason why, just a compelling interest. God, this whole fucking night has been nothing but strange.
Lan sits up as he draws near, and after staring at each other for a long minute, the telepath reaches down and wraps his fingers around the Bright’s wrist. The fabric of the kimono eases back as Sashi lifts the thin arm and studies the vicious marks that mar pale skin. [I have had the misfortune of meeting the Angels. They take cruelty and elitism to levels that I’ve never seen before.] With the lightest of touches, the Dark traces over the puncture wounds and thin scars that riddle Lan’s forearm in a patchwork of maliciousness. Some of the marks appear to be older than others, although none is fresh. How long had he endured this? [That they would torture you psychologically as well as physically is not surprising to me since they spare not even their own people from that kind of pain.] His thoughts slide momentarily to Jun and all that he had gone through years ago when discovering what his own kind had done to him. It’s no wonder he’d never wanted anything to do with them.
Sashi’s movements continue down past the narrow wrist and over the heavily burned skin on the Bright’s hands. The heat coming from Lan is just as potent as it had been earlier in the night, a deep kind of warmth that the telepath lets seep into him as he gently grasps the white haired Selestarri’s arm. He’d never felt magic like this before, something made completely of an unquenchable, undying fire. In researching material for his writing he’d read about the ancient elementals, beings created entirely of the components that formed the earth. Apparently they were far less myth than people believed.
Thundercloud gray eyes sweep once more over damaged flesh and then rise to meet sun-warmed yellow. [Everyone breaks under torture at some point, Lan, and by the sound of it you held out a long time. But no matter how much we resist, no matter how much we cling to our pride and dignity, there comes a point when we are too tired, too worn down and everything shatters.] Releasing his grip, Sashi immediately misses the heat of the other Selestarri. A shiver wracks the telepath’s narrow frame and he wraps his arms over his chest. Somehow it feels even colder out here now…
Lan: his yellow gaze fixes instantly on the Dark as he moves through a wall of shifting white towards him. Pushing himself up and straightening as Sashi stops just before him, the Bright finds himself unable to take his eyes off storm grey while the pair regard each other in silence for the space of a few minutes. The Dark’s hand wraps around his wrist to pull his arm up and sun warmed eyes finally pull away to shift down, watching as tattooed fingers move softly over the various wounds riddling his skin.
A Warden… Sashi is a Warden. He doesn’t quite know how to feel about not seeing this sooner, but there’s almost an irony to be had when he thinks about it. For as many times as he’s thought he’d finally gone over, he shouldn’t be surprised that the first Selestarri he meets in nearly twenty years was one who tends to the dead... And that the Dark also knows about Angels doesn’t really surprise him either. It seems that the corporation reached even here… which doesn’t sit real well in his mind since he’d chosen this place to flee in hopes it’d be remote enough to escape notice. But even halfway across the world, it seems they still manage to taint everything…
He remains silent while Sashi’s touch continues lightly over damaged skin, his own eyes locked on the hands that hold him. He’d never seen the intricate patterns that lace the raven haired Selestarri’s arms up close, never had a reason to since everyone he cared for was -at least twenty years ago, still living. There was something remarkably beautiful about the way the black scrollwork littered the Dark’s skin. Slowly Lan pulls his gaze away, sun warmed eyes traveling up to sweep over every feature of the one before him even as Sashi continues to examine him. He’d have to say that everything in the telepath was beautiful though… the way high cheekbones graced his structured face, the deep storm cloud colored eyes that were offset by long black lashes and the matching ebony strands that crowned him … He hadn’t been kidding before when he’d said that the other Selestarri was the most beautiful thing he’d seen since her…
As Sashi steps back and crosses his arms over his chest against the cold, the Bright is struck with a sudden need to touch him again, to feel the warmth of his skin even if in the slightest. Hopping down into the water, the kimono that drapes his slender form fans out behind him, the heat of his own body instantly stretching to the other as he steps in close. He hasn’t had anyone touch him for many, many years. The last time he’d even felt anyone’s hands on his skin was when he was still back in the lab, strapped to gleaming metal and being stripped away in small pieces. It was an odd sensation to feel warm fingers gliding over him with such a gentle touch, so different from rough sterile gloves or the bite of cold steel. And since he’d kept himself wrapped for the last few years because of the reactions the condition of his body warranted, it felt even longer. He’d truly missed the contact, missed having the touch of another, even if fleeting. It was… almost strange… a strangeness that once upon a time was very normal, a normality he’d all but forgotten.
[…You sound like you understand…] The Bright reaches up to touch at Sashi’s face, about to make contact when his gaze shifts to his hand. Lan frowns at the sight of his own burned flesh and how stark the damage is against the flawless tanned skin of the other. Yellow eyes travel away from his outstretched hand and up to glossy black wings, lingering for a moment before shifting back to meet storm grey. The white haired Selestarri curls his fingers back and pulls his hand quickly away. [But I lost more than my dignity and my pride …] Turning abruptly, Lan moves away from Sashi and back towards the steps of the spring. Tendrils of steam rise from him as the water streaming from the fabric evaporates around his frame with the barest amount of thought lent to it. […and unfortunately I’ve shattered beyond repair…] the Bright’s words are tainted with an empty emotion that works to rile the fire burning inside him as he slides the doors to the house open, the soft glowing of light spilling out onto the deck from inside as he steps past the threshold soon after.
He needs to rewrap his body, cover the wounds, lock himself away… something… anything to stifle the ache now flaring hard inside his chest.
Sashi: Heat wraps over the telepath as Lan draws close, eyes slipping partially closed as his skin immediately warms and the shivers come to a halt. Whatever the magic is that makes the Bright produce this kind of warmth is so very welcome. He hates being cold all the fucking time. Sashi remains still as long, scarred fingers reach out to touch his face, the earlier instinct to recoil held in check by the heat and by that look he’d seen on Lan’s face earlier. The need to feel another person and to know that you aren’t alone in the world, even if it only lasts for a second, can ease some of the hurt and loneliness. It’s the same look that he sees now in deep yellow eyes and hears in quiet words.
The Dark waits for the contact of Lan’s fingers, but it never comes. The white-haired Selestarri’s gaze shifts to his damaged hand and a black cloud seems to sweep over him just before their eyes meet once again. This is a look that Sashi is much too familiar with as well: hopelessness. Pulling quickly away, Lan turns and moves through the water and back into the house, emotionless words trailing after him just before the door closes. Long moments pass as the telepath simply stands in the hot spring, his eyes on the silent house before he sinks down beneath the surface…
Ceramic clinks softly as Sashi places the final plates onto two full trays, a thick curl of steam rising from the refilled electric kettle. Several small dishes stand empty in the sink, the reheated contents spread across various cups and bowls. He liked to eat later in the evening, so the housekeeper always left dinner in the refrigerator, neatly laid out so that all he’d need to do is microwave what he wanted. She refused to buy processed or frozen food so every night she put a meal in little containers since he couldn’t cook anything that doesn’t start with the words ‘remove from plastic wrapping.’ Pulling two pairs of chopsticks from a drawer and putting them on the tray with the rest of the food, he draws the patterns that will allow them to float along behind him and exits the kitchen.
He’d spent almost an hour in the hot spring after Lan had left, going over and over again all the things that had happened since he’d met the Bright on the road. He still isn’t sure just how his solitude had ended so quickly and with so little issue. One moment he was questioning why he’d even let Lan into the house and the next he was telling him he could stay. How the hell did that happen? When had he opened his doors to anyone who wandered by? A slight frown crosses the Dark’s face as he turns a corner in the hallway. Hearing the Bright talk about what had happened to him had struck a chord in Sashi that he can’t deny no matter how hard he tries. He’d been though some of the same things that Lan is experiencing now and he can relate to what’s going through the other Selestarri’s head. He’s never really been able to do that before and the feeling is a little… odd. Usually he’s such an outsider when it comes to understanding others, always unable to find common ground with them. Maybe that’s why he said the Bright could stay, because for the first time in a very, very long time he feels like there’s a reason to talk to someone outside of Zeph or Aki.
Tanned fingers slide up to push damp strands of ebony away from his eyes, sock-clad feet making no noise as he moves through the house. He has to admit that he also really likes the heat that Lan exuded. Standing close to him had been the first time in so long that Sashi had felt really warm all the way through. No matter how many sweaters he wears or space heaters he runs or how refined his spells are, there is always a piece of him that feels cold. Before he’d come here he had tried to live in the tropics for a few months, but not even that had completely worked. He isn’t really sure why he can never seem to get warm; it’s just been that way since he was little and got even worse when he became a Dark. Now to have it lifted, even momentarily, by a Bright he’d found passing his house is just more strangeness in an already strange day.
Sashi stops before the sliding shoji door that leads to the guest room he’d given Lan, the trays hovering just behind as he hesitates for a moment before knocking. He can sense the other Selestarri, so he knows he’s in there, but it still takes a long minute for the quiet response to come. Pushing the door open, the telepath steps onto the tatami mat, gray eyes sweeping through the dim yellow light of a small lamp to find the Bright seated on the bed. Lan is still wearing the kimono he had on earlier, although he’s now wrapped in the same bandages that he had on when he arrived. Sun warmed yellow eyes peer through strands of white from his place on the futon, his back to the wall and knees drawn in close to his chest. Without a word, the Dark sits at the end of the mattress, the trays settling between them before he negates the spell with a flick of his wrist.
Silence falls over the two Selestarri and Sashi keeps his gaze on the steam rising up from the kettle. Lan hasn’t moved and once again he gets that feeling of sadness from the Bright, but he isn’t really sure what to say. How do you tell someone that their life isn’t over when it feels like the damage is too deep for repair? He hadn’t listened when Aki and Zeph had told him that, so why should Lan? It fucking figures that the one time he actually wants to talk to another person he doesn’t know what to say… Picking up one of the small bowls, he spoons rice into it and adds a couple pieces of soy glazed chicken and vegetables as the silence stretches on. Pulling a pair of chopsticks from the tray, Sashi pushes them through the rice, spreading the glaze as words finally come to him. [You were right,] thundercloud gray eyes lift to meet yellow. [I do understand what it feels like to be so… broken. To feel like there’s nothing left for you except some miserable, unending half-existence.] Even now, after all this time, he’s not fully whole. He’s been able to reconstruct most of the shattered fragments of his life, to find things that make him happy, but there is still one section he can’t find the pieces for and he’s beginning to doubt that he ever will. He’s not really sure what belongs there that will completely heal him, or if he’ll even recognize it once he’s found it. Maybe he’s not meant to, maybe the damage is too extensive and those pieces are just gone.
Yellow eyes are still regarding him and so Sashi continues, letting the words just spill out. [I’ve been physically tortured to the point of murdering every living thing in a village save my partner, shredding minds and bodies like paper. We had been beaten and humiliated and… other things… and I just snapped.] The telepath trails off for a moment, staring down into the rice bowl as he uses the chopsticks to push everything to one side. Sometimes he could still hear them scream for mercy, even thirty years later. [I was also psychologically tortured until I almost self-destructed. Every night in my dreams I was methodically broken down until I cracked and splintered under the weight of it all…] He probably would have died then if Aki hadn’t stood by him and gotten help, and if he and Zeph hadn’t put the Seeker in her place. [I guess what I’m getting at is like I said earlier, we all have a point where we can’t hold out any longer, and that for a long time I felt like you do now. It’s not something that ever just goes away, it’s there when I go to sleep and when I wake up, and occasionally it still feels as raw and fresh as when it first happened.] Storm grays eyes shift back up to meet deep yellow. [Eventually though, time pieces back together the things that we can’t…]
Lan: Yellow eyes remain fixed on the small lamp burning softly at his side as he sits propped up against the wall with his knees drawn close to his chest. Re-wrapping his body to get the marks out of sight hadn’t done much to push that ache inside his chest down. He’d been numb for so many years before this. The thoughts of his old life… his place on the Eyrie, simple touches or interactions… the normality he once had all stripped away years ago when he’d resigned himself to death at their hands. He hadn’t even been all that upset when it’d happened as he recalls because he’d justified it by telling himself that when dead, he’d finally get to see her again - to hear her voice - to feel her touch – to see her smile… and so he’d found himself wanting it. Wishing they’d finally let him die… hoping even, because he knew she’d be waiting for him when he did. And when he’d started thinking that he began to realize that he’d given in after all those years he’d spent fighting to retain himself.
He’d finally broken.
So why is it that all the wounds suddenly feel raw, the scars burning as if it were the first time they’d been carved into his body? Why does he have this hard ache in his chest and feel a longing he can’t explain? Why now? Closing his eyes, he sighs and leans his head back against the wall behind him, silent and unmoving until the Dark’s presence slips across his consciousness. A light knock just outside reopens his eyes and he slides his head down, turning his attention towards the closed door to stare at it for a few moments before finally answering. Lan’s sun warmed gaze travels up to meet storm grey as Sashi enters, the trays of food following just behind him like obedient pets. The telepath comes to rest at the end of the futon, the trays falling in between with a small flick his wrist. The Bright regards the Dark for a long moment before his eyes shift down to the food he’s dishing and then back again. Sashi is so… not what he’d ever expect from someone of his faction. Despite his earlier cold words and his sarcasm, there’s a kindness to him that he’d never have dreamed possible from any Dark back in the day. Spending long moments simply staring at every feature of one before him, he finds himself once again, unable to pull himself away before grey eyes rise to meet his and Sashi’s voice break the silence. As his words finally end, that earlier urge to reach out and touch the other Selestarri kicks up hard and Lan has to force himself into stillness. There was something about him… something that he couldn’t place, something that struck inside deep.
[I’m… sorry] the Bright says after a few moments longer of silence. [About what happened to you, I’m sorry…] As if saying he’s sorry would be enough for that. He knows all too well how empty those words can sound when the pain you feel is buried in so deep. But he means it, because just as it seems Sashi can understand what he’s going through now, he can relate to what the Dark went through then. With a sigh, Lan turns his gaze to his front and lets his head fall back against the wall behind him again. Yellow eyes slip closed and he’s silent for a little longer before finally speaking, his quiet words barely carrying beyond his mind […My partner and I were down here on assignment when we were blindsided by them. I …hadn’t sensed anything when they came, I don’t know how they did it but one moment there was nothing, the next we were surrounded. I had no idea what they were at that time, I just knew that they weren’t human and they weren’t Selestarri. There were maybe ten of them and they all had silver eyes and silver hair, speaking in a language that I’d idly thought sounded so pretty... I didn’t find out for some time afterwards that they were Angels...]
Lan slowly opens his eyes and narrows them as his thoughts carry back to the day his world fell apart. [They were …strong and when they came at us – nothing we did made much of a difference. Soon we were just trying to fight our way out long enough to get away. But they were so fast and for each strike I got in, two more were on top of me, pushing me back. I had finally managed to injure one of them, but I guess another had come at me from the side while I was focused in on him. It happened so fast and she’d taken the blow before I could even turn around.] He remembers standing in shock for the space of a moment that seemed to stretch on forever. It had been like watching a movie in slow motion, the look of disbelief reflected at him in her eyes and the one he knew she saw in his. Then the blood began streaming from her mouth and body as she dropped to her knees and time had started up again before he was struck himself, watching helplessly just before he blacked out as those beautiful green curls fell severed around her broken frame when her head slid from her neck.
Lan’s gaze travels down to his bandaged hands and he stares at the twisting lengths of fabric winding around every finger, hating that he couldn’t even hold her when she died. He spends a few minutes staring at them before curling his fingers back in and fisting them into a ball while sun warmed eyes shift back up to meet storm cloud grey, smiling to the raven haired Selestarri before him [I didn’t even know how long they’d had me after that until I broke free. Some days it felt like I’d always been there and my existence before it had been a dream. Others it felt as if it’d just happened the day before, everything new and raw… there were so many times that I’d wanted them to kill me just to stop the pain, the few times I was brought up enough to speak, I even begged them to do it so I could at least be with her in Eviternity…] The Bright smirks before setting his head back against the wall once more. [But they didn’t obviously and I before I escaped I killed them all for it. I let the fire consume everything and I took my time doing it. I made sure they felt every moment, attempting in my haze to pay them back some of the pain they’d give me over the years ... Humans who had lives and families and people they loved. I can hear them in my dreams; their screams always mix with hers… over and over and over. It never stops. Nearly twenty years have passed since they took her and two since I repaid them in kind … so how many more years will it continue?] Letting his eyes slip closed, Lan sighs […I’m just so tired Sashi.]
Sashi: Short grains of rice stick together as the Dark herds them to the side of the small bowl with his chopsticks, gray eyes intent on the task as Lan’s words trail. What the Angels had done to him was brutal and what they’d taken was irreplaceable. That he’d come out of it at all is admittedly impressive. Not that there wasn’t damage, because there’s no way to live through something like that and not be marked, but Lan is alive when others would have died, and that says a lot. The sadness leaking from the Bright is almost palpable now, even though he’s trying to hide it behind smirks and smiles. Sashi knows, however, just how devastating these things are, how helpless you feel when all you want to do is protect someone who’s very important and it all goes wrong, how hard it is to piece yourself back together when your life has been torn apart, how much it hurts just to get through each day…
He knows all that and can relate, but what he doesn’t know is what to do now. Whenever he felt as broken and helpless as the Bright obviously does, Aki would hold him close or Zeph would make him play video games, but the other Selestarri is virtually a stranger, and the telepath doesn’t feel comfortable enough to try and act familiar with him when he’s not. Still, Lan’s obviously hurting, and even if he is a Dark and is supposed to be cruel and uncaring, he’s not. Generally he is indifferent about everything around him, but something with all this is just… different. Maybe it’s that they’ve experienced similar things and so few others that he’d met before have. Maybe it’s that what he sees so clearly in those sun warmed eyes is the same thing that he knows was once reflected in his. Knowing all that doesn’t tell him what to do or say, however. What the hell is he supposed to tell the Bright, that it’s been more than thirty years and he still has times when it all hits him hard? That some days he wakes up and wonders why he ever even tried to hold on when he so easily could have let himself die? Surely it would have been easier… Things are better for him now, better than they’ve been in a very long time, but living through situations like he and Lan had been through never fully go away, they’ll fade with time, but the marks will always be branded deep.
Storm gray eyes shift up from the dish in his hands to travel over the slender form that sits opposite, lingering for a moment on the strands of white that fall around his face and the rough bandages that cover so much of his skin. The scars on Lan’s arms and legs were the most extensive he’d ever seen, some very precise and finely edged and others the thick blistering of burn wounds. For a moment, Sashi finds himself wondering exactly how much damage the Angels had wreaked over the rest of his body, how much they’d tried to take from him in small fragments. His eyes trace along the edges of the Bright’s frame that are outlined by the thin fabric of the kimono before he realizes that he’s staring and turns his attention back to the trays of food.
Placing his bowl to the side, he reaches for the electric kettle and begins pouring. [I can’t give you an answer to your question.] Watching the lightly-hued liquid fill the ceramic cup, he doesn’t fight the words as they finally spill out of him. [No one heals at the same rate, and all I can say from my own experience is that the deeper the wounds, the longer it takes. Some days are good and others aren’t, but you keep getting up, keep marking the days, even when it hurts.] Even when the pain keeps carving into you, even when you wonder why you ever thought you deserved to feel anything other than misery, even when something happens that knocks you all the way back to square one… Sashi fills the second cup and sets the kettle back onto the tray. Long fingers wrap around the nearest cup, the heat sinking into his palms. [There are only two real choices when you think about it. After a while, crying and despairing over it won’t make things any better, so if you aren’t going to kill yourself, you might as well keep going.]
The Dark glances up to find the other Selestarri looking at him, those deep yellow eyes still tinged with sadness. [Your partner is gone, Lan, and nothing will fix that no matter how much you wish it to be different or how hard you try to hold on.] His words come across harsher than he intends, especially since he’s talking about something as difficult as losing a partner, and in this case it sounds like the Bright and his partner were very close. Taking a deep breath, he forces his tone to soften. [You need to find something new to live for, something that’s worth getting up for everyday and going through the painful task of rebuilding your life. When you find whatever that is, hold on to it, because there will be days that you’ll need it just to keep breathing…]
Lan: a soft smile forms on his lips as yellow eyes remain fixed with grey [You are right…] the Bright sighs, finally pulling his gaze away from the Dark besides him and shifting his head back to his front. [Death isn’t an option for me anymore so all I can do now is live each day …] hoping that time will somehow piece him back together as Sashi’s said it will. Hoping that time will finally begin to mend wounds nearly twenty years old. Hoping that time will someday ease the pain of loss. Hoping that time will fill the hole buried deep inside of him. Pulling his legs away from his knees in order to cross them at his front, the white haired Selestarri turns and reaches forward to wrap bandaged fingers around the cup the Dark had poured for him and pulls it to his lips, drinking the contents down in one quick gulp. Setting it back onto the tray, he slides one hand under the sleeve of the kimono and holds it close to his body while reaching for a bowl and dishing himself some food soon after.
[One day maybe that something new will present itself to me…] He smiles halfheartedly as his sun warmed gaze eyes meet the storm cloud colored eyes before him [And when it does, I’ll take your advice and I won’t let it go] His eyes drop to his food and he pulls a small amount towards his lips, forcing himself to stifle asking the raven haired Selestarri what it was that he’d found to live for. What it was that he found that gave him a reason to live every day… But as curious as he finds himself, it almost felt as if by asking, he would be prying into something that wasn’t any of his business just as he would have been prying if he’d touched that laptop in the other room... Sashi’s been kind by allowing him in and giving him a place to stay, food to eat, and a bed to sleep in… this should be more than enough. [Thank you.] Lan says after a few more minutes of silence, greeting the other man’s gaze with another soft smile. [For everything…]