exsiliumlogs | [closed]

Bariyan was not altogether too keen on reflecting upon the circumstances that had brought him here, so most of his downtime was spent wandering, in search of sights to distract himself with. His feet had eventually brought him to the gardens, and the sight of greenery beyond so much broken glass and bent steel set his curiosity churning. Distraction found.

He spent a long while staring at what he surmised was the actual entrance, but saw no way in. So he'd gone around to the sides instead, until he found a window broken enough for him to crawl through. One leg up to the sill -- then the other, pulled up -- then a careful hop back down to the floor inside--

(It didn't occur to him that wandering in alone might be dangerous -- it didn't occur to him to think of anything here as dangerous. He'd seen danger. He'd faced it down. Kharta had been dangerous. But he still had a hard time convincing himself that this place was even real.)

He scraped the back of his neck against the edge of a jutting piece of glass, not hard enough to cut skin, but close enough for the chain to catch. It pulled taut when Bariyan slid himself back off the sill. He jerked around in surprise, but the glass snapped before his feet even hit the ground. Freed, Bariyan immediately raised his hands to the chain, running it through his fingers until they hit the medallion.

It wasn't danger, not a call to drive him outside of his body, but it was a kind of chime – a buzzing in Martin's head that stirred him from his daze. Whatever had been floating around in his mind scattered like kicked-up sand and left him with a strong stirring in his chest, like something forgotten suddenly and urgently remembered.

The rustling sounds he heard not far away impressed the matter, made his heart drum loudly as he hopped over dense overgrowth and swiped low-hanging, half-naked branches and caught his breath short to see Bariyan there. Martin's eyes were big, mouth hung open in unspoken surprise, and the drumming seemed to stop outright.

What was the right word for the feeling, even? If it was just one to describe at all. Nauseous, maybe...that might've been one.

Bariyan tilted his head slowly at this new arrival, dropping the medallion back into his shirt as if he'd been caught thieving it. But this one had a quicker, sharper memory than the other, and the connection between Martin now and Martin then was clear, even taking into account the difference of light versus flesh.

But... gods, this was just a child. There was no sense of otherworldliness about him. Perhaps Bariyan was mistaken, after all.

"I'm sorry!" He put his hands up, speaking before any of the above thoughts even cleared, reacting immediately to the surprised look on Martin's face. "I only wanted to look around. I can leave, if I'm not allowed."

He had embraced this altered Bariyan before – that whole, freed aspect of himself held no resentments, doubts, or anger over what had happened, simply accepting it as Time's course and their role in it ever-changing. But it was different, there in the flesh, a boy. A boy who felt the way other humans did – a boy who opened his eyes with life again and felt tears stinging in them right away.

This Bariyan forgot– His head did a bit of a quiver, like shaking a buzzing insect away from his ear. No, never knew me. It wasn't something to resent, by no means, but...but it still left him very far from happy. How everyone had been changing, and him hardly...

And now hastened apologies, not an unfamiliar thing between them, but certainly not in the voice it came from. Things were changing too much. Martin had to be quick to speak in turn – not something he was ever very good at.

"No–" He felt his voice crack and winced a little, swallowing, exhaling loudly to clear his throat. "No, it's all right." It's all right, child. "You can stay. You can look. I was just surprised..."

Bariyan relaxed, having been legitimately fearful that he'd trespassed -- and he'd hardly been here for a full day yet.

"This isn't where you live, is it?" he asked. It certainly didn't look like any place for a young boy to live, or anyone else, for that matter. Though Bariyan liked it just fine. He'd barely seen any plants yet, and now, all of a sudden: an entire dome of them.

But his eyes kept coming back to Martin. Was this the one who'd come to him, just yesterday? But he was obviously nervous. Unassuming. Very human, and very different from the overwhelming presence that had been Martin in spirit.

"No." His mouth twitched a moment. "No, I...I stay where everyone else does."

Bariyan's own room, until then. But Martin had the key to the room he shared with Alistair and Anora, and it had been put to use; no more fleeing in terror, sleeping in basements and alleys. If Bariyan ever did know or remember, it would've killed him (and anyway, it was a lot colder than Martin remembered it ever being, so it was definitely out on multiple levels).

He may not have been the best at bodily and facial cues, but he was certain he understood the returning stare. It gave him pause, holding his breath again. He's fine. Safe. And...I can protect him, even if he doesn't know why. It's alright. He knew that. But still.

I want to be known.

"You remember me?" he asked, a little quiet, his shoulders starting to shrug up. "When you woke up here, right?"

[ Bariyan has decided that this is thus far his favorite part of the city. It's the greenest part of it, certainly. He'd hoped that maybe there'd be more wilderness outside of the city, but he can't figure out how to leave it -- the damn places goes on forever.

So, for now, he's content with tending to the flowers here. There's a bed of flowers that haven't bloomed yet, hidden at the foot of a broken statue, and he's kneeling in front of them, carefully pulling through the leaves and wondering if he ought to disbud them. He doesn't know. He hasn't gardened in so long.... ]

Edited 2013-01-23 03:34 (UTC)

[ Koltira's been on his mind ever since he arrived, which is rather natural, considering the fact that Martin aside, Bariyan has yet to be distracted by anyone else. He's not sure if he even should try reaching out to others. There's certainly plenty of people around, and there's the tablet and the network, which Koltira had explained to him....

But he has suspicions. And he does not feel entirely ready to confirm them yet.

So he's left it all alone, been kind and polite to the few others he's run into, kept to himself otherwise. Content to while his time away in peace and quiet. Still, there's an uncomfortable thought nagging at him -- a short burst of uncomfortably fresh memories -- and, two days later, he's decided that he ought to do something about it.

Which is how Bariyan finds himself back out in the streets, a new jacket pulled tight around his shoulders. One of his arms is out of the sleeve, holding something close to his chest under the cover of the jacket, safe from the light rain and prying eyes.

Koltira ought to be easy to spot, but Bariyan's not entirely sure where to find him... and now he's rather lost, himself. Oops. He'll find his bearings later. ]

"Ah." Bariyan relaxed, smiling, though the expression didn't quite reach his eyes. He wore his smile as defense these days -- not against the outside world, but against the misery that still lived within him. "I thought so. I just was not sure."

There was a name, too. It would probably be nice if he could remember it. So Bariyan raked through his memories until he found it.

"Martin, yes?" He was certain that was it. Bariyan gave Martin a slight nod. "Thank you. Thank you for being there. Though I was not in my right mind."

He quieted, thinking about that. Not in his right mind indeed.

With a sigh, Bariyan brushed his shirt off, then adjusted the medallion around his neck before looking to Martin again.

"Will you walk with me? I have many questions."

He had opened his mouth to quickly dismiss that notion – right minds and all – but stopped at hearing the sigh, anticipating more. With breath held again, he watched Bariyan fiddle with that medallion – theirs. Was it a nuisance? Did he want it off? He didn't know anything about it, did he? Otherwise...

Martin had forgotten he was waiting for words and startled a little at them, blinking and looking at him, rather than the medal. It took a couple seconds to understand and react.

"Alright," he said quickly, trying to make up for that beat. Questions, though...it made his stomach churn anxiously. He stepped around a shrub and to Bariyan's side, fingers curling at the hems of his coat to keep from reaching out on impulse.

Which questions? How could he explain...much of it? Would it make him sad? Wasn't it better if he could be a little bit happy about being here instead? I can take care of him even if he doesn't know.

"Yes," Bariyan said, as he began to walk. He didn't reach out to take Martin's hand; but he did pull out the medallion again. "Mostly. About this. This is... yours, isn't it?"

It'd been the first thing that Martin had gone for, when Bariyan had arrived. Bariyan remembered that clear enough. And it certainly wasn't Bariyan's; he didn't wear any sort of jewelry, as a rule. Bariyan already wasn't very good at fighting. He didn't need to give his opponents an easy target to grab him by.

Martin's eyes were already locked on it, his eyebrows pinched seeing it tugged, watching to see if it was meant to be pulled right off. Not possible, he knew, but the gesture...

"It was made for me," he said, his tone at first something more distracted, but once his eyes lifted away from the medal he seemed much more present. His mouth twitched a little before he looked ahead to better avoid tripping over something. "One of my baby teeth was melted into it when I was little. And then..."

And then...a lot. A great deal, some more confusing than most, but none of it simple. He let out a breath slowly, with a bit of sound, dragging it out to give himself time. Hardly time enough; he didn't know what was best to say of it. The truth, obviously, but that was so complex.

"Then I gave it to you. Or...Or I will." It was a Bariyan a time before, right? He squinted with a frown at the ground ahead of him before looking back up. "Did you...know that? That you're here – will be here.

"It's strange like that," he added quickly, trying to hasten some better explanation and keep unpleasant feelings at bay. "Time, here. A lot of people..." He swallowed, let out the breath. "A lot of people have changed, too. It's strange, but not...new. Not very new."

[Although Ashraf had told Koltira that the cabin in the woods belonged to him--that Koltira had personally built it, even--he has little desire to spend any time there. Its existence strikes him as eerie, given the clear high elven influence in the carved archways; obviously, someone who knew of the quel'dorei had constructed it. But he wasn't ready to accept that it might have been some version of himself.

Furthermore, it was miles away from the city, from where everything was actually happening. For as long as he was here, he wanted to meet these people, to know them. He couldn't do that while locked away in a dreary hermit cabin.

Granted, it presented him with a problem with regard to his sleeping arrangements, but he'd gone without long periods of rest many times before. Vigils and guard watches and so on.

Even so, it's been a few days now, and that's why he's nodding off on a bench somewhere in the center of the city, yawning through half-shut eyes as he watches the crowds pass.]

Melted baby teeth? Well, that was... slightly disturbing. Bariyan thought about asking if Martin wanted it back, but that truly didn't seem like an option, anyway. There was no clasp, and the chain too tight to get off his neck. Besides, if Martin had given to him -- he supposed he ought to keep it.

Bariyan shook his head.

"I was going to ask about that, too." He smiled off into the distance. "I suspected that... you and that Koltira fellow, both of you, I suspected that you knew me already. But I don't remember, and I didn't know."

But... it made no sense to him. He knew, now. He knew that if he ever returned home, he would have all of half a second to realize before the end came for him. So how could he have come here, again, afterwards? If anything, it had to be a past version of himself... which made even less sense, really.

Not that any of this had ever made sense to begin with.

[ There. Bariyan considered himself lucky, really -- he hadn't been expecting to find Koltira like this. Had rather expected that he'd have to ask around about a tall elf, actually. But upon seeing Koltira on the bench he smiles to himself and immediately approaches, at a rather slower pace.

He keeps the hand under his jacket tucked away, hidden. ]

Hello, Koltira. [ Bariyan stopped just a few feet short of the bench, cocking his head to the side. ] Tired?

Martin stopped walking as he listened, feeling cold. Well, colder. It hadn't bothered him so much, the bite at his skin – ears, especially – but. He felt colder listening.

Bariyan had been hurt, unhappy and lost, barely bandaged up and made safe from harm – Koltira's work, not his. And a dozen other questions, no doubt...Hadn't he felt the same way before? Back before everything. Martin faintly knew, but didn't entirely understand what he felt was not so dissimilar to his Darkov time.

He does understand, though, that it should be about Bariyan, not himself. He should do everything he can to help him, however he wants. It was as simple as that, being in his presence at first, untethered, but now...Now, Martin was frightened of what would happen if he said anything at all. Frightened, too, of what it would be like if this state persisted, and...if he was actually wrong to want it to change back.

He smiled, too, consciously pressing it on himself despite a quiver at his brow.

"Did you want me to tell you?" he asked, almost deadpan. Keeping his tone as solid a tone as he could helped a little, but it broke quickly for fear of how it sounded. "I'll do my best to answer what you want." If that's going to make you happy.

That thought, at least, softened his features for a turn. It was good if it he was doing something that pleased Bariyan, wasn't it? He always wanted that.

[He covers his mouth in advance of another yawn.]

Ahh ... just a bit. I don't seem to have any lodgings in this city! I'm managing, though. [He clears his throat; smiles.] It's good to see you again, Bariyan. You're looking well.

Bariyan was silent for a while. When he spoke again, it was in a murmur.

"No, that's all that I wanted to know about me," he said. Still smiling. "I thought about it, but..."

But he knew that he would be dead soon. It was a fact that he had to remind himself of, now. Being here and knowing that he was or would be here, earlier or later or again, all that was enough to make him wonder -- make him hope, falsely, that he might yet survive whatever was happening back home.

Futile to think that way. He turned memories over in his head, words said and unsaid, turned, looked at all the bridges burned, and knew that he was at his end. Even if it had been delayed by this place.

He would die. He didn't need the heartache of knowing what sort of life he might have led here to occupy his thoughts in the meanwhile. There was no more room in his heart for any sort of hurt.

"You, though...." Bariyan stopped briefly to look around, to decide where he wanted to turn next. "You were... important, weren't you?"

If you're unable to find anywhere to stay, I apparently have lodgings. [ though he thinks all the beds in the apartment are occupied, er ] We could make room for you. [ BARIYAN CAN SLEEP ON THE FLOOR, WHATEVER

He invited himself to a seat on the bench next to Koltira, adjusting his jacket once he was settled. He returned Koltira's smile, though his was rather less bright. ]

I'm sorry for the way I treated you when I arrived. That was unacceptable on my part.

[Another yawn.]

No, no. I won't impose.

[Aw, honey. WHY IS YOUR SMILE SO SAD. Why is everyone here so distressed. He shakes his head, makes a dismissive gesture with his hand.]

Think nothing of it. You were in a bit of a tight spot at the time, after all.

I've been in tight spots before, so that doesn't excuse my yelling at you. Should make it rather more unacceptable, in fact. [ Bariyan laughs, shortly, but soon sobers up again. ] I do apologize, deeply. You didn't deserve that.

[ After a short pause, he adds: ] I wanted to thank you, too. For taking care of me. I would have bled out if you hadn't been there.

[ Now he finally takes his hand out from under his jacket. In his palm he holds a single plumeria flower, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that the white petals are mostly undamaged from his travels. It's not a flower he actually knows... but it's the closest approximation he could find to the flower he'd actually been searching for.

He'd deliberated on whether to bring it or not. He thinks that the meaning will be lost entirely on this man. The meanings were lost often enough on Bariyan's own friends back home, and they'd grown up in the same damn country as him. Vastly different parts of it, yes, but at least they hadn't come from entirely different worlds.

But Bariyan felt that he had to try. So he holds his hand out to Koltira now, offering the flower to him. ]

This is... how I would thank someone back in my own world, for saving my life. [ That and more, possibly. It all depended upon the situation. Here he was a stranger and always at a loss, and there was little else that he could do but this. ] It may not mean much to you. Just know that you have my gratitude.

[Traditions of floriography are not uncommon among the elves, though obviously Koltira has no reference for this particular flower. Still, he does understand the basic meaning behind what Bariyan's trying to do, and as such, he takes the flower with some reverence, his eyes widening.]

This is a beautiful specimen. I'm surprised you could find something like this here.

[He takes the flower; turns it over in his hands, careful not to touch any of the delicate petals. Then he tucks it behind his left ear, smiling wide and sincere.]

Thank you. [Koltira sets a hand on Bariyan's shoulder, gently.] And you're welcome, Bariyan. I was glad I could come to your aid. Regardless of the yelling.

[ Given the positive reaction, Bariyan grinned. He put his arm back into the sleeve of his jacket and pulled it close around his frame, lapsing back into silence.

He felt odd. Odd, because his mind wasn't racing with worries, wasn't desperately trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong, or searching futilely for a way to fix things. Odd, because it'd been so long since he last felt so at ease with himself and the world. Yes, the grief remained, but the desperation was gone now. The months leading up to this moment had been fraught with strife and stress, and now that it was all over....

And it was over. It'd been over before he even came here.

Bariyan forces himself to smile again, shaking his head, clearing his thoughts. Something that would have been impossible to do just a day ago. ]

I'll keep yelling down to a minimum from here on out. Promise.

[ Then he nods to the flower again. And, teasing: ] It looks good on you.

Edited 2013-01-24 06:55 (UTC)

A strange impulse was there. Martin didn't want to say yes. It was strange, wasn't it? He thought so, realizing it. It tugged at his smile on one side, the rest of himself standing a little stiffer.

"Yes," he said, despite himself. Clearing that hurdle seemed to start a gradual ease in tension. "I put you through a great deal of trouble. But you wouldn't give up on me. You've been very good to me."

Bittersweet was the word he didn't have for it, that moment. Perceiving it to be more painful than it turned out to be...It's not so hard, is it? It'll be alright.

He made his decision and took them left, dodging under a broken archway overgrown with vines. He brushed his hand over the vines as he went, disturbing leaves and little curls of stems.

He smiled at Martin, warmly, blue eyes light and clear.

"I'm glad to hear that," he said. And he meant it. But he did not inquire any further; did not ask what sort of trouble, did not ask what giving up meant. It was good enough to know that he'd done right by this child.

If... Martin was a child, at all.

"Can you tell me about yourself, then?" Bariyan asked. "I don't mean to be rude, but... what are you?"

[closed]

[01/24 | martin darkov]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

[01/26 | ranka lee | civic gardens]

[01/25 | koltira brightdawn | SEARCHING. OUT IN THE STREETS]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject