exsiliumlogs | [closed] after all that was said

Entry tags:

[closed] after all that was said

Date & Time: 01/23, morning
Location: OUTSIDE. STREETS. IDK THEY'RE OUT ON A NICE WALK
Characters: Bariyan e Kodhi (

blacklord), Koltira ~~Deathweaver~~ Brightdawn (

brightdawn), Martin "wHERE DID ALL MY DEAD DADS GO :'(" Darkov (

theguideless)
Summary: bariyan gets timeswapped, chaos ensues
Warnings: bariyan's princess self is bleeding all over the place yeah w/e MOSTLY WARNING FOR MELODRAMA

[ He drops mid-sentence.

There's no smooth segue into the switch, no warning beforehand, hardly even a pause in his speech before he's gone and changed. Blink of an eye. Not enough time to even draw a breath. Then Bariyan hits the ground with his knees and flinches, eyes shutting, head bowed, shoulders tensing in anticipation of a blow that never comes. Numb and wounded and waiting.

The seconds tick by.

Blood soaks into his torn shirt. It trickles down his shredded arms, flecks onto the medallion that now swings loose from his neck. There is a single, shallow slice in the left side of his throat and it's this cut that he brings a hand to, blinking in the strange dim light as he realizes...

He brings his head back up, sharply, staring at Koltira with dazed blue eyes. His eyebrows draw together in bewilderment.

Bariyan opens his mouth to speak. He chokes on the first syllable as the pain finally registers, and doubles over again. ]

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But-- where--

[ His first instinct is, rather rudely, to grab at Koltira's arms. He coughs as he does so, bowing his head again, shaking with the effort. But he's oddly insistent about getting a grip upon Koltira. The pain's not stopping his efforts.

He lifts his head back up as soon as he's able, eyes wide and wet, slowly growing fearful as he takes in more and more of his surroundings. ]

Am I dead?

[His eyes widen in surprise--Bariyan's hands are suddenly much, much warmer than before. And--his eyes are different, too. Bloody hell. Koltira forces his questions aside. Not the time. His tone is grim as he tries, with limited success, to peel some bandages off of the roll in his hand. Bariyan's frightened grip is making it a bit difficult.]

Not yet you aren't, and won't be, if I can help it. You've got to let go, though. Please.

No. [ Bariyan laughs. His grip only grows tighter. ] No, no, no.

[ He shifts his grip then, suddenly grasping at Koltira's chest instead, his fingernails unable to find purchase on the metal plate of the other man's armor. He digs his nails into it regardless, as if trying to scratch it.

He gasps, suddenly, drawing in a long breath as he tries to regain control of himself. That's an uphill struggle. ]

Who are you? Where-- where is-- where's Cat?

[Well, at least his arms are free. Koltira presses forward determinedly, seeking out the sites of greatest injury. He surmises that getting to Bariyan's neck just now is going to be a trial, so he goes elsewhere first, applying the enchanted bandages to the bloodied arms braced against his chestplate. The bandages release their salve as soon as they're wrapped, and it has a near-instant cooling, healing effect.]

My name is Koltira. I'm not sure who Cat is--or where he might be. Please stop trying to talk so much.

You're not. Not. [ There's entirely too many things that Koltira is not, Bariyan doesn't even know where to start. So he leaves it at that.

He whips his head around, searching behind and around him, doesn't even notice the bandages going around his arms until Koltira's done with them. Then he turns back and blinks in surprise. He withdraws his arms and immediately starts to pick at them, tugging, threatening to undo Koltira's hard work. ]

Cat was just here. He-- he was going to-- [ He looks back to Koltira, and his voice turns imploring. ] I must be dead.

[This strange new Bariyan is clearly losing it. Koltira gently takes hold of Bariyan's wrist, pulls him back from the freshly done bandages.]

Please don't. You need to let them work--and you need to let me see to the rest of you. You are not dead, Bariyan.

[though he's starting to suspect that maybe you were.]

No. [ Bariyan makes an attempt to yank himself back, but he's weak. Most of his strength is spent laughing. He breaks free of Koltira's grip and reaches up with both hands to claw at his own throat, staring blankly ahead at nothing. ] He was going to kill me. He was about to-- he-- see? [ He looks down as he tilts his head to the right, highlighting the shallow cut on his neck. ] I felt it. The blade was right there so, it must have happened already, he must have been quick about it I know he would be I must be dead--

[ But he doesn't feel dead. He can feel the wind. The chill in the air. The hard ground against his knees. The strange, cooling touch of the bandages around his arms. In short, he can feel entirely too much for a dead man.

Bariyan finally quiets down to stare at Koltira, wonderingly.

If this is an afterlife-- if it is one, he doesn't know whether he ought to be angry, disappointed, grieving, or what.

He settles for being completely and utterly confounded instead. ]

[Koltira eyes the cut critically, shakes his head.]

No ... I think, more precisely, it has not happened yet.

[He tears more strips off of the bandage roll and begins to wrap them around Bariyan's chest, guiltily hoping that the other man is just too shocked/delirious to stop him. The bleeding must be staunched, now.]

Not yet? How? He swung the goddamn sword!

[ Bariyan yanks himself away again, this time with rather more vigor. Confusion gives way to panic. He shakes his head, ignoring the sting as it aggravates his wounds. ]

I don't understand. Please. I don't-- I don't know what you are--

[ His hands at his throat slip down, and his fingers catch on the chain around his neck. That distracts him. He looks down, pulls at it until the medallion is between his thumb and forefinger.... Strange. This, he doesn't recall at all.

But Bariyan doesn't dwell on it for long. He crosses his arms over his chest, jerks his head back up to Koltira, and nearly screams at him as his panic takes a sharp turn for hysteria. ]

I am supposed to die!

[Koltira's been maintaining his calm up to the point, but he's really not keen on the yelling. He recoils, his expression temporarily stricken.]

I-- am ...

[He shakes his head; marshals his discipline. It still isn't the time. Still, his voice is a bit softer than before, a bit more solemn.]

It doesn't matter what I am, or what was supposed to happen. What matters is this moment, right here, regardless of whatever strange magic caused it. And in this moment, you are gravely injured, and I am doing everything I can to help you. There's nothing else.

Edited 2013-01-21 08:22 (UTC)

[ Gravely injured? Gods, his head hasn't even been forcibly detached from his body yet -- oh, his arms. And the rest of him, too. Bariyan quickly looks back down at his injuries, at the bandages, and a flicker of rationality comes to light. Yes. This man is trying to help -- he shouldn't be yelling at Koltira --

But his thought process stops there. Too much. Too much now settling in all at once, like a weight dropping through his throat, stopping up all further speech. Too much that doesn't make sense, too much that he doesn't know. Bariyan's shoulders sag, and all the tension drains out of him.

He can't even focus on this moment. He can't focus on anything. So Bariyan says nothing, lowers his head and stares at the ground instead. Even that is bewildering to him. ]

[blood on the metal screams sirens.

from a pencil-thin ribbon racing through alleyways and open paths to this scene, yellow light clots and blossoms, and small tendrils extend as they mold to fingers, reaching and grazing the forgotten medal at Bariyan's neck.

heat helps fill in space, too, and after a flash of urgency, is sated to a steady state of focused affection. it is the shape of the child then, kneeling opposite Koltira. it looks up to him briefly, unblinking, wearing a mild smile. a second hand traces the trails the bandages made and would make.]

[JUST WHAT THE HELL IS THIS, THEN. Koltira starts when he notices the ribbon racing towards them, but as the situation becomes more clear--slightly--he has a similar reaction as his other self. In other words, the sense he gets from Martin's spectral presence reminds him of the Holy Light, which calms him well enough to reach for his bandages again. He holds the roll awkwardly, frowning at Bariyan's slumped form; Koltira needs access to the neck wound, but he doesn't want to force it. As he glances back at the kid beside him, he recognizes the face from the network.]

... Martin?

[ At this point he might as well have expected this strange wraith to show up -- he looks up and all he registers is gold, warmth, a smile. A child? A ghost?

The first name that comes to mind is Komini.

Bariyan raises his head, blinking. Well, it'd make sense, wouldn't it? If they're both dead now? Maybe there was some reward, then, for the miserable life he'd led, maybe things were exactly as the Court said they were, that here he would find all that he'd lost, once again-- so, overwhelmed, Bariyan reaches for the golden shape with both hands, trying to grasp on to hands that aren't there.

(Yet even now, in the back of his head: Martin? He knows of no Martin....

And if this was some sort of damned afterlife or purgatory, that still didn't explain Koltira.) ]

[the ghosts of fingers lace through Bariyan's, warm despite the absence of skin or surface. a little taller, Martin's shape bows forward, forehead against the wounded man's, encouraging a little lift and tilt – enough for Koltira to reach the wound, right?

THIS IS STILL LIFE. ALL IS WELL.

nevermind knotted, fractured strands of personal time. it doesn't matter in the scope of keeping true to its contract; those will be worries in the flesh. not now.

alive, whole, healing. the notion of security practically imposes itself into the air.]

[Koltira doesn't waste the opportunity. Gently, while Bariyan seems to be distracted, he leans in and wraps a thick layer of bandages around Bariyan's neck. As before, the salve releases as soon the silk touches skin, and its healing effect is near-instant.

Koltira sits back on his haunches, exhaling in relief. He's done all he can do. The bandages will have to handle the rest.]

[ Martin's a good enough distraction. Bariyan all but clings to the warmth, instinctively, and he would have stayed that way forever if his damnable mind would just stop working like it was supposed to.

But it keeps chipping away at things. Flickering back and forth between images. Kharta going down in flames, Catsovi's face half-shadowed as he drew his sword, now coming back here, the ribbon, Koltira's words, the strange architecture that surrounded them, continuing sensation and the pain now subsiding. His head still on his shoulders.

And this ghost was certainly not Ko. There was a face in all that light, some solid presence, a child, certainly; just not one that Bariyan recognized.

It still didn't make any sense to him.

He drew a breath, looking through Martin's shape back to Koltira, addressing the both of them. ]

I'm... not dead?

[ He sounds like a lost child. He feels like one. And he hates that, but he is far too broken and distraught to hide his weaknesses. ]

[Martin's form shifts, moving around, behind him, with suggestions of fingers trailing past his collarbone, his neck – the medal.

NEVER DEAD.

its smile is redirected to Koltira, regarding him with a rekindled understanding; the things the flesh was quick to forget weren't lost.

Neither dead. the suggestion is a blend of young and old, consistently gentle. while it watches Koltira, it shrinks down again, curling arms around Bariyan, hidden after a moment of adjustment.]

[By this point, Koltira is just as lost as anyone else. But Bariyan seems to have calmed down, at least.

He doesn't know what to make of Martin's proclamations, at least not insofar as they regard himself. He can surmise that there seems to be a connection between Bariyan and the child, but this version doesn't quite grasp that, either.

Ultimately, he sighs again, stands up, and dusts off his armor. The man who called himself Koltira's friend was gone; a victim of the mercurial magic that apparently ruled this place. But at least he had rescued the replacement.

He nods briskly at the two of them.]

The bandages won't need to be changed. Leave them on for a few hours, and when you peel them off, you'll be as good as new. All right?

[He goes for another warm smile and lifts a hand, as if to be on his way.]

Edited (REPEATS SELF FOREVER.) 2013-01-21 23:51 (UTC)

[ Martin's actions do not go unnoticed, or unappreciated, although Bariyan's still not sure what manner of creature he's dealing with here, or whether he ought to be dealing with it at all. But he's afraid of this place's strange, chilly atmosphere. The warmth is comforting and familiar. So he sighs and allows himself to sink back into the embrace.

Then nearly breaks out of it completely when Koltira threatens to leave. ]

Not yet! [ Leaning forwards, one hand raised, reaching. ] Please. Don't go. I.... [ He trails off and hangs his head again, fully aware of how wretched he sounds. He stares off to the side. ] I don't know where I am. I don't know what any of this is.

[ Stay.

a man stands behind Koltira, lion at his feet, smiling.

It is strange, isn't it? To feel a change so sudden. the words reverberate, young and old.

It is better – not alone. Hearing a different voice. Seeing a different face. Holding someone else's hand.

the man tilts his head at Koltira.

Koltira is Koltira. Bariyan is Bariyan. A lot is the same and some is different.

Stay.]

I'm afraid I'm not terribly clear on it, either, friend. I've only been here a few days.

[Even so, he does sit back down on the ground, one leg folded over the other. Martin's words are still like cryptograms to him; full of meanings that he knows are there but that he just can't decipher. Still, he's not one to deny what is so clearly a holy spirit--or a man who still needs help.]

[ Bariyan laughs, though the sound is nervous and shaky. ]

Still longer than I've been here.

[ He settles down, now that he sees that Koltira is staying, and spends a while just looking around again. This time rather more carefully. Everything is strange and unfamiliar, cold blues and greys, far different from the burning desert he'd just been pulled from. Different and not at all comforting. He remains kneeling with his arms crossed over themselves, huddling in his own warmth and Martin's.

His eyes are eventually, naturally drawn to Martin. Both of them-- or all three? The medallion clinks around his neck and he glances down at it. Then back to Koltira. What part does he play in all of this?

Confusion and loss, still mounting within the wreckage of Bariyan's mind. He shudders. ]

Who are... all of you?

[the bodiless figures were silent at the first asking, giving Koltira's presence and own response precedence. they loom, linger, and hold, steadfast in their presence, but shifting in form in small ways:

the boy's eyes lose definition, filling up with a single, hazy shade before "closing," gathering up the natural impulses from a human's perspective. it hurts very much to be forgotten twofold.

the man's only grow heavy-lidded, smile enduring and considerate in silence. it is sad to have this new distance, but wonderfully good to have the means to remain connected.

the lion, curled up at his feet, head resting near Koltira's legs, grows still as a statue. there is no direct threat to quell.]

[man that is a pretty sweet-looking lion. Koltira tries to pet it, spectral or not, as he replies.]

As I said ... my name is Koltira. Koltira Brightdawn. I was guarding a temple sacred to my people when I was suddenly taken to this island. There's a war on, it seems, and they're drawing in people to fight for them ... I'm not entirely sure.

[He's had some drinks since then, okay. Plus, he's still half-convinced this is a mistake on Azeroth's end, and that it will eventually be fixed.]

Either way, I know it's only a matter of time. The quel'dorei are skilled in magic: they'll bring me back. I just have to be patient. [CONFIDENT SMILE.] In the meantime, I'm doing my best to be of use.

Edited (fusses endlessly bc i cant write worth a damn toniiiight) 2013-01-22 03:26 (UTC)

We're on an island?

[ News to Bariyan. He touches his neck, the bandages that somehow wound up there. The pain is fading now, but comes back in a sudden spike as he thinks of Cat again. Where is Cat? Evidently not here. Perhaps far away now, gone, like he'd always threatened and finally made good on.

Or perhaps he is here as well, just as lost. Only time will tell.

Bariyan stares at Koltira as they other man speaks, but this time he drinks in what Koltira has to say. There's still many questions and Koltira's explanation only raises more. Bariyan infers what he can, and stores everything else away for later. He simply can't bring himself to care right now. He knows that Cat is not here, he knows that he is not home, he knows that he is not alone, he knows he is alive. The pertinent, immediate questions have been answered. Except for....

Now he turns to Martin, the child. ]

And... you? [ You three? ]

[when addressed, the boy withdraws his hold and sits alone, mimicking Bariyan's posture.

I promised to protect you in this world. If there is danger, I will come.

the lion's head, having done a decent job of at least looking like it was enjoying a pat, lifted and broke the illusion by passing through Koltira's hand to stare.]

Whoa! [Koltira laughs sheepishly as his hand slips through the lion's ghostly essence.] Sorry, buddy. Your mane is just so fluffy.

[He glances back at Bariyan.] Yes, an island. Exsilium, they called it. Whoever's in charge here likes to draft soldiers from other worlds.

[ He stares at Koltira, completely bewildered by the man's cheer, almost more than he's bewildered by Martin's very presence. He looks down at his hands, mouths repeated words and phrases to himself. Promised. This world. Danger. Exsilium. Soldiers. Koltira, Martin, Cat... if they'd wanted soldiers, they should have brought Cat.

And just like that, Bariyan's curiosity and confusion recedes as despair surges again. Did it matter? Did any of it matter? Cat was going to kill him. He isn't dead now, not yet, but he might as well be. He'd meant to die. And death will find him again-- soon, he hopes.

Bariyan withdraws back into himself, shoulders hunching as he drops his stare to the ground. ]

[no words from the lion, but a persistent gaze, a notion of understanding...and respect. this one aided it before, after all; it may become hazy for the human boy, but not for this. its eyes crinkle a little, the way a man's might when smiling, and lowered its head again to stare toward Bariyan.

the boy's hand reaches over and grazes the unhappy man's cheek, sending words and feeling in a whisper:

This is different, but not wrong. You are changed, too, and changing. That is living. That is good.

poor man. but he is loved very much.]

[The respect is lost on him, but he still thinks the lion-spirit is just great, so he nods respectfully back.

However, upon seeing Bariyan's face fall, Koltira scoots a little closer to him, his lips pursed in concern.]

Hey--look, I'm not going to say that it's all right, because I know this whole thing is pretty crazy. I don't really understand it at all; it's completely out of my wheelhouse, honestly.

[He holds out his hand; smiles gently.]

I'm a stranger to you, but I'm a stranger here, as well. We could be strangers together, if you'd like.

[ Living. Living when he had no right to. Bariyan closes his eyes against Martin's touch, just briefly, a slow flinch. He can't help but think that Martin's presence continues to be a sign that he is dead, or should be; a ghost, a specter, a wraith. But Martin speaks with warmth, and he speaks of life.

Bariyan doesn't understand.

When Koltira offers his hand, it takes Bariyan a long moment before he moves, reaching to take it between both of his own. The weight of Koltira's hand is heavy and solid, and...

He may not know or trust these people, he needs them. Because they were here. Because they were kind. Because he is selfish, and guilty, and afraid-- terrified of being left alone. Left, in a strange place that he knows not at all, with little idea of how he arrived and even less of how to leave.

Bariyan raises his head, his eyes, looks to both Martin and Koltira. ]

I would like that. [ His voice is heavy with melancholy. ] Though I'm sorry. For imposing myself.

[despite the steady air of calm, all three figures quivered in unison. it's been a time too long from the body, left forgotten in the face of Bariyan's needs. it'd remain so had there been no promise to take care of himself – his human self.

This is nothing to ask forgiveness for. There is no trespass.

the boy flickered, missing a motion between lifting off his knees and standing before him, bent to Bariyan's level.

When you have need, I will come. I will always come.

but it could take a bit of run, now, if the need is still there; all three recoiled, pulled away by necessity. light and warm, and then gone in a breath.]

[Koltira's eyes widen as the spectral figures disappear. Damn, this place is crazy. There was definitely much more to Martin than first appearances would suggest. He's glad of it--glad that Bariyan has someone here who knows him so well, and who is so devoted to caring for him.

He's okay with leaving the whys and hows aside for the present.]

Right. What he said. Or thought-whispered. You know. [TOOTHY GRIN.]

[ Bariyan's eyes widen and he starts to say something as Martin pulls away, reaching, too late. Martin is gone. Bariyan could call again -- not that he realizes what he is doing -- but the boy's parting words set him at ease. There was a promise there, a promise to return. So Bariyan merely blinks off into the distance sadly, as the last vestiges of Martin's light fade away. The chain around his neck strangely heavy and cold.

He turns back to Koltira when the other man speaks, blinking equally sadly into the bright grin. ]

Kol...tira? [ Bariyan tilts his head to the side. There is something he should say... oh, yes. Solemnly: ] Thank you.

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[closed] after all that was said

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