[PRP] Don't Want to Give Peace a Chance (Shikeen)

[Seussi]

Shaheen could have, in the past few days had anyone bothered to look for her, been found in one of two places. Early mornings and evenings were dedicated to her training regime, the one where she spent hours practicing battle techniques and weaponry, and sometimes even reading though not often, books on strategy. On air on on land. It didn't matter. It was still training either way.

The rest of the time? Lying listlessly in a hammock, thinking about how much she hated vacation time, and how much more she hated this sudden, new found peace that surrounded them. No wars. No chaos. No strife. She was Bored. Bored. And she didn't appreciate this little R and R time Death had gifted them at all.

On this particular afternoon, she lay in the hammock with a scowl on her face, her weapon summoned and held in one hand, while she tested the edge of the blade with her opposing hands index finger. In the distance, a tree, one scored with marks and seeping sap that dribbled slowly towards the earth.

Thunk! The short sword was thrown, it's blade biting into the tree and sinking deep into it's wood.

And then it was back in her hand again.

Thunk!

Back into the abused tree.

Yes, this was how she was choosing to spend her free time.

Ol-j-man

 

[medigel]

There were two conflicting thoughts in his head as of late, and they were of opposing elements: destruction and affection. Unfortunately, Shik didn't know how to be "soft", let alone how to "communicate" his "feelings"; it took a nasty beating after years of head damage to come to his senses, after all. While the two elements could most certainly mix (he still recalled the first time Shaheen had actually kissed him, which was not only during the middle of a spar but also while she had pinned him against a tree), when it came down to the bare bones, affection was something that was created and then created more of itself; destruction was, well . . . smash, kill, eradicate, and all things like it.

Affection was obviously for Shaheen, though he was surprised to find out that that was that that was he felt all this time; here he had mistaken it as a fondness for rivalry (go figure). And that was . . . a doozy to tackle on its own.

Destruction, however, came in more subtly, as the newfound "vacation" they had been given left room to be very, very restless. And a restless Shikoba was not a happy Shikoba. For one, he still recalled unresolved feelings about Death being in charge (opinions which had been swept away from the Tear and thus had come crawling back in pieces), and for another it bothered him how quiet Medea had been lately. Add the fact that they had been corralled towards "more humane" methods of Fear extraction, and the executioner was about ready to make a few heads roll just to hear a little bit of screaming crack the peace.

The problem was, he did not know if anyone else cared about the future of the horsemen if they kept going down this path. So, naturally, he would have to "talk it out". And while Shik was no wordsmith, he at least knew he could be honest about it with one person and not feel judged. Or, well, [i[too judged.

Plus it gave him an opportunity to try and be . . .what was the word? "Romantic"? It even felt velvety soft and disgusting. Echhhh. Please don't ever let that word cross his mind or mouth again.

Thus Shik followed the dull sounds of a weapon hitting a tree, assuming since it was so close that it was Shaheen's, and hoped to whatever deities there were that he figured out a way to reconcile all this messy emotional turbulence without coming out looking like an idiot. His hands behing his back and his wings folded in a way to hide them, he approached. "Bored again?" he asked casually.

So far so good.
 

[Seussi]

Thunk!

Shaheen let out a sigh this time as her sword was back in her hand, testing it's edge with the brush of a thumb. Still sharp, though it could have been a bit sharper she supposed. And it certainly could have done with a little bit of cleaning as well, it's surface becoming sticky with sap. If she closed her eyes and ran her fingers across it's surface, she could almost pretend it was blood. Human blood. The blood of her enemies.

There was a sound of footsteps approaching, but she didn't open her eyes. She didn't feel like she really needed to, as there was only one who would likely approach her when she looked as though she might be half asleep but with a sword gripped tightly in her hand. Her lips quirked up ever so slightly at the low rumble of his voice, and she opened one eye, tilting her head back to look up at him from her horizontal position, her wings lying limpid to each side with feathers brushing against the ground.

"Bored is putting it mildly." She answered, her voice perhaps just a touch too sweet, an indicator that she was trying very hard not to let her irritation at their current situation show. "Have you come to liven up my day?"

Ol-j-man

 

[medigel]

"So I hope."

His eyes moved from her to the sap-covered sword with a grin. "As if I could stay away anyway with that smell in the air," he joked, which actually came out better than he imagined--Shik, joking! What a concept. It looked as though he was in better humor than Shaheen was, which might make this easier--or more difficult, depending.

"I actually wanted to speak with you about something that's been bothering me. But first . . ." He paused, wings shifting idly, before dropping his hands from behind his back. Sitting in one palm was a well worn piece of flint.

Alright, remember the words you had put down. You are like this flint: sturdy, resourceful, easy to carry--did that sound right? Maybe not. Sturdy, resourceful, sharp, and look it even has gray streaks like you do--wait, remember, you aren't supposed to joke about that. Gods damn it, just open your mouth already.

"When I think of you, I think of rocks."

Still smooth.
 

[Seussi]

Shaheen could feel her smirk spreading, her interest piqued at what could have brought Shikoba to her side that particular day. If he said he hoped to have something to liven it up, then she saw no reason to stay lying down, and with wings stretching out just slightly to each side, she awkwardly, because there was no way not to move awkwardly in a hammock, worked her way into a sitting up position, her sword still clutched in her hand all the while even though it would have been far easier to desummon it.

Wings folding in neatly behind her, she looked up at him expectantly.

Wait....what about the smell of tree sap? Why would that attract...him...Wait was he trying to tell a joke? Should she laugh, even though she didn't get it? Was that what people who were in love with people did? Laugh at jokes that weren't even funny?

Maybe it wasn't even a joke. Ya, she 'd go with that. It wasn't a joke so she wasn't required to do anything.

She was relieved when the topic of conversation moved past tree sap and on to different ground. He wanted to talk about something! If Shik wanted to talk, then it must have been something important, because the man was far from vocal at the best of times. To seek her out to talk was virtually unheard of. She sat up straighter, full attention on him. "Of course, you may talk to me about anything you wish, anytime." She affirmed, because that was most definitely something she felt like she needed him to know. All hints of her earlier semi-sweetness was gone, her curiosity driving away her earlier irritability.

When he brought his hand out from behind his back, she craned herself forward, expectant, waiting.

It was...a flint? Her eyes raised to his, an unspoken question. Her lips parted, ready to ask him what this was all about, when he spoke first and instead, she hissed in a sharp breath through her teeth. What? WHAT?? Had he really just...What in the name of...

Her eyebrows had flown up so high they were likely to have left her forehead completely. One word was all she was able to choke out at that point, because if she said more then that, she was going to say a lot more, and none of it was going to be very pleasant.

"Explain."

The sword in her hand at least provided a comforting weight that she reminded herself was still there by lifting it up and placing it, very deliberately, onto her lap.

Ol-j-man

 

[medigel]

So that . . . wasn't quite the reaction he wanted. Damn it, how did people do this?

He eyed the short sword in her lap briefly. "Ah . . . What I meant to say is, you are as sturdy as one." Good. "And you have strength behind your blows." Also good. "And you're as hard headed." Maybe not so good. s**t, what did his list say? The weapon wasn't throwing him off in the least (if seeing that made him nervous, neither of them would be here because Shik would have been murdered long before then), but talking, dear gods, the talking. Shik made a face in concentration. "This flint . . . It makes fire. And so do I. And I enjoy fire, just as you do. You are the flint, and I am what you strike against: we work together to make that fire happen."

Better . . . ?

He stood there uncomfortably and watched for a reaction.

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

Shaheen was...confused, to say the very least. And Shik wasn't exactly helping as he began to ramble on and on about the rock thing. It was exactly what she had asked for, an explanation, but it...wasn't at the same time, because what he was saying started out helpful and then became completely unhelpful and then just made no sense at all.

She was caught somewhere between wanting to smile and wanting to frown, somewhere between needing to laugh and needing to snap at him to shut up because what??

Instead she was somehow able to keep her composure, her face maintaining a steady look before she raised a hand to her mouth and cleared her throat, and spoke.

"That is...a very interesting comparison. I can't say that I appreciate all of it but...." But he was trying, right? She didn't know what he was trying to do or what exactly he was trying to say with these analogies but he just seemed so..lost. It made something twist inside of her amidst the confusion.

And yet, it did make some sense. She could almost interpret what it was he was trying to say. They, the two of them, were like as he said. They struck against each other again and again, but with that striking, something was produced. A fire. Something that burned. She shifted a little in her lightly swaying seat, her face beginning to show some hint of her understanding as a light blush colored her darkly tanned cheeks.

"A-anything else?" She was stammering. Gods she was stammering. Shik what were you doing to her?

Ol-j-man

 

[medigel]

A stammer was better than the mocking he assumed would have happened. This was bizarro land, he decided: two War elders periodically squawking like chickens over a piece of mineral. "Ah . . . Originally I was going to say something along the lines of 'keep this flint as a sign of the spark you give me' nonsense," Shik passed over airily (now he could say even vaguely sentimental things, in passing of course!), "but we both know we don't need a reminder of those sparks."

Not when every other encounter of theirs outside of affairs in the house (and even sometimes those as well) meant a fight somehow breaking out. This time he was determined to avoid it, to show he could be civil and change if he wanted to: that he took that promise to stand with her seriously, as casual as he had gotten towards the end.

Dropping his hand, he pocketed the flint into the satchel at his hip. "I thought of something different instead." Both hands reached up into his hair, fussing over a catch; his long hair was once again pulled back as he hadn't been bothered to cut it, and feathers still adored it like odd little porcupine quills sticking out of his locks. One in particular (brown and mottled like his wings) fluttered and shook until he disentangled it from his hair entirely and, pulling a stray hair off its tip, presented it to Shaheen without a word.

He didn't suppose he needed to explain this as well.

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

She was more then half expecting him to make fun of her for the stammer with some kind of mash-up of teasing and mocking, but instead he just kept on going on about the flint in his hands, about how he was going to give it to her and why, speaking in such a way as to imply that it was no longer important.

She watched him pocket the flint wordlessly, and then rose from her seat, her sword sliding from her lap and disappearing as it was desummoned, unneeded, she had decided, at this point in time. Her eyes, which started out looking him in the eye with confusion, began to drift down his body and towards the satchel that he had hidden the flint away in. A gift for her that now apparently not deemed worthy of gifting, for whatever reason.

And now that his little explanation was finished, she wanted it. And she was about to say as much, do demand that he fish it back out and give it to her right this instant, because it obviously meant something to him, and he had felt that it was something that connected them, in it's own way.

But before she could even say as much, he spoke again, and began to make motions that didn't make sense with what he was saying. He'd said he thought of something else...and then let his hair down? What was this? Shaheen had never felt so overwhelmingly confused or unable to form words in her life. It was like she was simply a silent spectator to what was unfolding in front of her, only watching the actions that couldn't possibly have been thought out by Shik to be directed towards her. It was more like a play, or a dream, something that wasn't really happening to her and thus she was not actually required to respond.

But in dreams did her heart ever begin to beat so fast that she thought it might burst from her chest? Because that's what was happening now, as she gazed at this new offering in plain disbelief.

First the dagger, only a few days before. Then the rock. And now this?

The significance was not lost upon her. She knew what this was, and what it meant. It meant that he was serious about what he had said about wanting to stand with her, about wanting to be with her. It meant that this time, it wasn't a lie. It couldn't be a lie, because he would never have offered one of his own feathers so freely just to manipulate her further. This, what she was witnessing here, was actual sincerity from the executioner, a trait she had often questioned the existence of in him.

And all she could do was stare at the offering, at a complete lost, her heart hammering away in her chest, painful, but in a sweet way, in a way full of complete and utter longing.

There was hardly any distance between them, but she closed it with a step towards him anyways, her body just mere inches from his. She didn't stop looking at him, at his face, his expression, when she reached out to push his hand down, out of the way, her fingers wrapping around it, and she leaned into him closer still.

"I accept, but only if you'll choose one of mine in return." She whispered, because it was all she could manage with her mouth as dry as it was, with her throat feeling as though a lump had formed within it, making it far too difficult to speak normally.

She then turned, and flared one wing out to it's fullest length, a glorious display of purple/black feathers, though some were streaked or edged with grey. She had others as well, if he preferred, the feathers on the insides of her wings more of a creamy white striped with shades of brown. It was his choice, and she was giving it to him to take whichever he wanted.

She had never made this offer to anyone before, and was not bloody likely to make it to anyone ever again.

Ol-j-man

shaheen is so lost i can't even

 

[medigel]

In typical Shik fashion, he realized this was a little . . . fast to toss up in retrospect. But then, he wasn't very good at staying patient. Or knowing what was a socially acceptable speed. Or remembering what "moderation" was. It was funny how despite having things more clarified in his brain, he could still remain helplessly lost in other areas.

Namely, how to react to Shaheen's counter offer. He took a few moments to recognize what she held in her hand, despite having watched her pluck the feather form her own wing. To be honest, Shik didn't know what he thought would come out of gifting her his own feather (he didn't plan that far ahead), but even this had been a stretch . . . A sign of trust from the woman who was plagued by doubt?

Yup, very bizarro landish. But pleasantly so.

It was only then, however, that he realized he had done things a little out of order (maybe the flint really had knocked him off his game), and so with a breath he extended his own wing and nudged for hers to fold. "I will, if you still deem to offer it after I speak," Shik began. He paused, gathering his words like kindling with careful selection. "For some time now I have been . . . restless is the word I suppose. As I told you, during the task Medea gave me, I in my annoyance and haste voted in Death. And while he's given me the little miracle dagger, his methods of fear harvesting and general demeanor are not . . . exactly to my liking."

That was the mildest the executioner had ever sounded about disliking someone. Difference in opinion or not, Death was still a powerful figure, and he wasn't yet sure where Shaheen stood with him.

"His doting upon the human race--and hunters too--is alarming. He is soft despite his power: I watched him humor them with promises and conversation when there should have been outright slaughter," Shik growled, annoyed still when recollecting the memory. "He's almost . . . I don't know. Distant, lax, amiable about all things. It's begun to bother me."

Pause.

"I'm starting to wonder if there shouldn't be something to do about that," Shik went on in a more hushed tone, glancing around them. "I fear where he might lead the Lost Clans, trinkets or not. At least Medea followed the old traditions: raw fear gathering and mongering." He stopped to let his words sink in.

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

Shaheen's head was starting to hurt. Like, really, really starting to hurt. She had just offered him one of her feathers, and that was when he was going to choose to change the subject? Slow things down? Behave as though she and he had not just offered each other something profound, a symbol of commitment and ultimate trust?

Her face went dead pan blank, her eyes the only part of her giving away her rising aggravation. She wasn't good at dealing with any of this, separately. Now he was combining it all into one big mess of confusion, toying with her feelings, and speaking about....

Wait, what???

Her wing snapped closed behind her the second his own wing brushed against it, urging it to do so. Her jaw was clenched, and she was giving him such a dangerous look, as though concentrating very hard on trying to make his head explode. But she was listening, oh yes, because a lot of what he was saying mirrored her own thoughts.

It was just...really?

"First of all, give me that damned rock, so I have something to hit you in the head with." She growled, after a long pause of just glaring at him. "What you are so openly discussing, in the middle of the day..." Her voice was getting louder, and realizing this, she paused to take a deep breath, one clenched hand relaxing, and reaching up to place against his chest. Somebody might be watching them. She wasn't sure Death really gave much thought to keeping an eye on her, but after her open display of disdain the last time she was faced with him....it was a possibility. If not him, then Charon, who seemed very devoted to Death, might have taken it upon himself and.....

Gods damn you, Shikoba, what are you thinking.

Letting her hand slide up his chest to curl around the back of his neck, she stepped forward, into him, for the sake of appearances making it for all the world like they were nothing more then two lovers having an intimate moment. It was all she could think to do, to mask this discussion, and she stood up tall, craning her head up while pulling on his neck to bring his down. "It could be considered treason." She whispered into his ear, her lips brushing against his cheek.

Pulling away just slightly, just enough to move her face so that it was mere inches from his own, she let her other hand slide around the back of his neck as well, and gave him a small smile, shy but coy, before leaning in to give him a very full and long kiss, murmuring against his lips as she pulled away. "And I agree with you."

Please Shik. Please catch on to what she was doing.

Ol-j-man

wow I thought I tagged this go me

 

[medigel]

It could quite possibly be argued that Shik, in fact, wasn't thinking at all. That was normally a safe assumption anyway.

Thank the gods that Shaheen had an ounce of subtlety to her, though, even as her behavior confused him at first. Or if not confused, he had simply thought that was more of her ingrained Insanity acting out; he'd just demonstrated some of his own, so it wouldn't have been out of place. Crazy is what crazy does. Birds of a feather and all. It was the lengthy kiss that first clued Shik into what was going on, surprisingly--the actions that led up to it had been one thing, but the oddly coy nature of it had made him wonder. And wondering turned to thinking turned to understanding. Give him some credit.

Although her murmured words certainly helped the conclusion, even though he couldn't help but be stunned that she wasn't slapping him for the thought of rebellion.

Shik pressed a second kiss to her, finding it hard to suppress his grin entirely as he relaxed (felt validated). "Just like that?" he purred, bumping their foreheads. "Not a single argument? I'm surprised." This was practically a first. And while he didn't believe the deception of a pair of lovers was needed for this discussion (the area around their home was somewhat remote, given how great of a neighbor Shik was before, hence his forwardness before), he most certainly would have some fun with it.

Namely by brushing his feather lightly between where her wings sprouted.

"It would absolutely be some form of treason, dear~ Which is why I'm wondering how you're agreeing so quickly."

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

The second kiss was welcomed with some amount of relief, knowing, or at least hoping, that he understood. She wasn't doing this just to get frisky in the middle of a small clearing, after all. It was for their protection. It was necessary. It was a just in case situation.

It was hard to keep telling herself that when her heart began thumping away quicker in her chest, when she found herself wanting the second kiss not to just end without a third and a fourth to take it's place. When his forehead touched hers, she leaned into it, her eyes flickering open and up, a smile curving her lips as well, and not just because he had just affirmed for her that they were on the same page about certain things, and perhaps had been for quite some time before now without speaking up about it.

"I can be agreeable at times." She murmured back, an index finger lifting to trace along the back of his neck, at just about the same time that the feather was brushed against her back between her wings. making her breath catch in her throat.

Oh, that was just evil, Shikoba!

....So was calling her dear.

She licked her lips slowly while she regained some amount of composure before she spoke, her voice still just the slightest bit more breathy then the norm. "Maybe I like living dangerously." A half smirk at the words. "Or maybe, for once, we are just on the same page, Shikoba. I have also been feeling rather...restless, as of late. And I do not care for Deaths rules, nor just his rule for that matter." One hand slid up into Shik's hair, fingernails gliding against his scalp at the back of his head.

"Give me the feather, Shik. I still want it." There was a slight edge to her voice now, the hint of a threat, like she wouldn't hesitate to kick his a** if he didn't offer it back up.

".....And the rock too."

Ol-j-man

 

[medigel]

He spent a few moments looking very mischievous and unapologetic, very aware he was a few words away from getting yanked by the hair and stabbed. Then again, he liked living dangerously too~ "You should be agreeable more often," Shik noted with a grin. "But I hope you do realize that you're committing yourself to something that might get us exiled, if not obliterated."

He made it sound like an upcoming date.

"So then." He pulled the feather away (though not before it brushed against Shaheen a little more in the process) and held it just under her chin, still pressing his forehead to hers. "You would take a madman's feather anyway," Shik said in a lower voice, gazing into her eyes unblinkingly. Something subtly changed in his features as he searched her--softened even, if such a thing were possible for him. They were not the brown hue he once knew, but slowly . . . Slowly he was beginning to accept that the amber too had its own striking beauty.

Pulling away, though only just for breathing room, his free hand scrounged into the sack and pulled out the flint. He laid the feather on top precariously and offered it to her reverently.

"Thank you."

Seussi

 

[Seussi]

Exile and obliteration? All it did was excite Shaheen more to hear those words fall from Shikoba's lips. It was the equivalent of a serenade to the war woman, made all the sweeter by the fact that she had seen no action at all since returning from The Tear.

Except for her little fight with Shik and the confession of love that had been thrown in there, an event that she still remembered quite vividly and with little regret, because, after all, would they be standing here like this discussing the possibility of a mutiny? Of what might either become a civil war within the clans themselves, or a swift dismissal of the two from war who thought to rise above themselves?

Her face split into a grin, a baring of teeth that appeared more vicious than anything. That should have been answer enough for him to know she was more than prepared for the possibilities, and when the feather was held in front of her, tickling her chin, she let her fingers glide out of his hair, moving them down his chest and to rest on either side of his waist.

"You are offering it to a madwoman. What did you expect to happen, Shikoba?" There was amusement in her still quiet tone, and she gazed back at him unblinkingly.

She waited patiently as he pulled away to retrieve the flint, waited until the offering was right there, a feather perched atop a rock, held out to her. She could feel her lips curling into a smirk, one of both victory and a sense of giddiness she never thought she would get to experience ever in her life.

She was reaching out for them both when he spoke again, eyes locked on those two items, but then suddenly flickering up to him, surprised. He was..thanking her? She wasn't sure why it should have come as quite a shock. Nothing about this was anything she could have ever foreseen.

"Thank me now, thank me later, in better privacy." She was hinting at something, there, her eyes flickering towards their home, "And thank me again when we defeat our common enemies, and rise up, victorious." There would be on add on's of "if we survive" because even allowing that thought to be entertained was a small defeat in it's own.

She reached out, hand grasping for the rock, the feather sliding easily between to fingers ans she clutched for both, and said, once again, "Now if you'd like to choose one of mine, you may." .

Ol-j-manx