Bariyan Kozar (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stonefaith) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2012-09-29 10:17 pm
stonefaith) wrote in exsiliumlogs2012-09-29 10:17 pm
[closed] a long time coming
Date & Time: 10/03, RIGHT AFTER GETTING OUT OF THE CATACOMBS
Location: Startin' off at Koltira's lake but probably eventually ALL AROUND THE CITY, they're bar-hopping.... or, er, scavenging, given the recent bombings....
Characters: Koltira Deathweaver (deadelfwalking), Bariyan e Kodhi (stonefaith)
Summary: Bariyan cries a lot and makes some long-overdue apologies, Koltira is forced to put up with this sad sack of shit
Warnings: N/A
[ The one good thing about the bombs is that it's temporarily alleviated Bariyan's (very recent) money problems. Clean-up of the destruction has hardly even begun, yet -- which leaves Bariyan free to pick through the ruins and collect alcohol that he would have otherwise had to pay for.
He's got about seven bottles and a bucket of ice when he's through. And that's what he shows up at Koltira's lake with, a few hours later -- having had to walk the whole way over -- though at that point the seven bottles have gone down to three-and-a-half, and Bariyan is well on his way to being stupid drunk.
Which is nice. Bariyan hasn't gone drinking since... before Darkov.
He pauses to look around -- at the broken trees, the scorched land, the ruined framework of Koltira's cabin, where he spots Koltira's silhouette -- and then approaches over one of the bridges. He all but drops the bucket at Koltira's side, melted ice splashing out over the sides, and nudges it towards Koltira with his foot. ]
You. The rest. Is yours. I've already drunk.... [ Bariyan coughs, and makes a vague gesture with his hand. Then he reaches down to snatch up the half-empty bottle. ] Except this one. [ He steps back, and takes a long drink. ]
Location: Startin' off at Koltira's lake but probably eventually ALL AROUND THE CITY, they're bar-hopping.... or, er, scavenging, given the recent bombings....
Characters: Koltira Deathweaver (
deadelfwalking), Bariyan e Kodhi (stonefaith)Summary: Bariyan cries a lot and makes some long-overdue apologies, Koltira is forced to put up with this sad sack of shit
Warnings: N/A
[ The one good thing about the bombs is that it's temporarily alleviated Bariyan's (very recent) money problems. Clean-up of the destruction has hardly even begun, yet -- which leaves Bariyan free to pick through the ruins and collect alcohol that he would have otherwise had to pay for.
He's got about seven bottles and a bucket of ice when he's through. And that's what he shows up at Koltira's lake with, a few hours later -- having had to walk the whole way over -- though at that point the seven bottles have gone down to three-and-a-half, and Bariyan is well on his way to being stupid drunk.
Which is nice. Bariyan hasn't gone drinking since... before Darkov.
He pauses to look around -- at the broken trees, the scorched land, the ruined framework of Koltira's cabin, where he spots Koltira's silhouette -- and then approaches over one of the bridges. He all but drops the bucket at Koltira's side, melted ice splashing out over the sides, and nudges it towards Koltira with his foot. ]
You. The rest. Is yours. I've already drunk.... [ Bariyan coughs, and makes a vague gesture with his hand. Then he reaches down to snatch up the half-empty bottle. ] Except this one. [ He steps back, and takes a long drink. ]
no subject
But Martin did die. I killed him. He died by my hand. [ He sounds strangely flat. ] I've done so much wrong by that child, and I thought that was the worst of it, but -- it was over, then. I thought I was done. I thought -- at least -- I thought I had finally sent him home. As I had promised.
[ He is silent for a while.
Over. He had thought it finished. Eight months and then some, and done. He had thought it a passing moment, Darkov blinking in and back out of his life before he could even start to reach for the boy. Eight months. Not even a year. Nearly nothing, and had Bariyan gone on, he knew that he would have forgotten the boy's voice and his face and all his sadness, and he knew that his grief would have eventually faded to a dull ache. As all things did. He would have moved on. There would have been more mistakes, more sorrows, other children, other chances for a redemption that he would never achieve. He knew all that, even then, but he did grieve, and he had left the city, and he had found....
He looks at Koltira, now, eyes dull and spiritless. ]
I brought him back, Koltira. He was dead, and I brought him back.
And I-- [ Once more, Bariyan turns away. His next words come quiet and slow, heavy with guilt. ] --I do not know that I did the right thing.
no subject
You say that you brought him back, eh? Tell me what happened.
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I don't know. You would have to ask him.
[ But he can't just leave it at that. He blinks, turns, looks back at Koltira. ] I called him back. I asked him to return. I made a contract. I am his anchor here, I... [ and, with something like a sneer: ] I keep him here.
[ Whatever expression there was on his face fades as fast as it'd come. He resumes staring at the wall, dead-eyed as ever. Done. ]
no subject
He exhales as he feels the beginning of a more persistent, pleasant burning, both because of the feeling and because of how Bariyan has shut down. He stands up, stretches, and then moves to sit beside the other man--not so close that he's invading personal space, but close enough to suggest some intention of support.]
My apologies. I have never been an expert with words, and I am less so now.
[Undeath had not completely stamped out the speech patterns and mannerisms of his race, but it had done a good job of altering them irrevocably--especially when it came to any notions of subtlety.]
Bariyan ... the magic about him in the tunnel was some of the purest I've ever seen. He seemed at peace.
[in other words: Why does this distress you so?]
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[ His bitterness is sharp-edged and cold. He remains turned away, having barely noticed Koltira's move. ]
I promised him that I would send him home, once. And I did. Not in the way I expected and not in the way that I wanted. But he was home, he was where he belonged, and now I've.... I've done worse than break my promise.
[ Martin said that he wanted to be here. That he was glad Bariyan had said yes. But that didn't make it right. Now Bariyan fights to reconcile the boy's happiness with his own convictions, and he can find no middle ground. Something will have to break, eventually. ]
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Quietly.]
Was his home ever the best place for him, in any state?
['cos Koltira saw that home, and it looked pretty goddamn terrible to him. He surmises that its idea of an afterlife possibly wasn't wonderful, either.]
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That was not my place to judge. Still is not. All that matters is that he wanted to return, and that he did not belong here. [ Bariyan laughs, shortly. ] That became clear enough....
no subject
And does he still want to?
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But he just grows miserable about it, instead of angry, or defensive. Shoulders drawing in further together, bowing his head, eyes closing. This is the problem. ]
Things have changed, now.
The dead should have no voice.
[ But...
But he remembers light. Exoneration. If this was truly as awful as his beliefs held, then why had it felt like absolution? ]
no subject
My friend, the strands of life and death--of time in and of itself--are more complex than they seem. You made your promise because you wanted to do right by the child.
As you say, that has changed.
[he pauses, because they've been at this a while, and it's actually starting to take effect. The next exhale has some relief in it, as he feels the pain in his limbs dull. Oh, that's so nice. He goes on.]
My own world is a tangle of magic, of things that I soon learned were impossible in other places. I try to understand the particulars of other worlds on their own terms, but I cannot. I have only my own experiences--and the conclusions I took from them--to go on.
For example, Martin as he is now ... he seems a paragon of the Light.
[shaking his head, clearly laughing at himself.]
It makes little sense to anyone outside of Azeroth, but it is divine magic. It is what saved me from the Lich King's grip. And I sense the same power, or something much like it, in that child.
no subject
That had changed with his revival, and changed more with coming here. The very existence of other worlds and other universes threatened to invalidate his own views and beliefs. If there were gods and hells and afterlives in other places, then why not in his own world? Why not, indeed, after he himself had returned to life... from where?
He sighs. Eyes open, looking at nothing. ]
I never believed in such things. When I was alive. I....
[ He puts a hand to his forehead, suddenly very tired. Paragon. Light. Things had changed, yes; and Martin had changed with them. He loved the boy no less, but it was clear that Martin was no longer the child whom Bariyan had dedicated so much of himself to. ]
What is he, Koltira? What did I bring back?
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If you mean what I sensed from him ... well, he is human. His body, at any rate. But his soul has expanded, somehow. I felt an enormous amount of pure spiritual energy.
[slumping against the wall, his long bangs falling over into his eyes. If only he could sleep.]
More truly, though, I think you brought back a frightened child who deserves a chance to be happy. And I think you have given him that chance.
[shrugs.] But that is only my inconsequential, outsider's opinion.
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He would not disagree with deserving. But he did not know that that was ever enough to justify what he had done. There'd been many people through worlds and time whom hadn't deserved to die, but that did not mean that any of them deserved to come back... in Bariyan's increasingly hesitant opinion, anyway.
He shuts that down, and the rest with it. ]
No matter. It's done. I am obligated to live with this, whatever choice that I have made.
[ And, gods willing, the only ruination that would come of this would be contained within himself. ]
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To this end, he lifts his current bottle and speaks, only half-aware of himself.]
You shall not live with it alone, Bariyan.
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[ He never felt alone when he was with Martin, but without the boy he only felt more alone than ever, these days; worse than when he'd returned to the world, worse than wandering those mountains alone knowing that everyone he knew and loved was long dead or, in many cases, worse....
He sighs, and turns to put his back against the wall, allowing himself to look back over to Koltira. ]
Never mind.
[ He gets back up and walks over to the fridge, opening it, holding the door in place with his foot. There's only a few bottles left; Koltira's gone through quite a lot in a short while. Bariyan picks up the remainder and carries them back to Koltira, setting them down in front of the other man.
As he reseats himself, he laughs, shortly and without much mirth. ]
We're going to have to move on, soon.
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As such, he keeps on speaking without thinking, too elated by the situation to mind what he's saying.]
Aye, let us go. Perhaps I can find us more fridges.
[as he starts moving, again, with a very slight wobble that clearly delights him--]
And you will not, for you have my friendship, Bariyan.
[he laughs, too, but for him it's genuine, as warm as is possible with his dark, echoing voice, full of pleasure and gentle self-mocking.] Though I realize that may be cold comfort.
[ha, ha, cold comfort. He made a joke.]
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After snatching up one of the last remaining bottles, Bariyan follows after Koltira, a little hesitantly, drawing up alongside the other man with both hands shoved into his pockets. He cocks his head to the side and frowns. ]
No, that's... all right. [ He pauses to open his bottle. ] I appreciate it. ...Thank you for listening.