well, it's a lonely road that you have chosen

[priorcommitment]

Ishiah appreciated the balmy weather that was the norm on Tabula Rasa. The days were sunny and warm, but hardly blisteringly so, thanks to the shores which comprised so much of the island's land mass, graced by steady winds and cycling air. Nights served as a nice reprieve from any glaring sun, light still teasing on the horizon and painting the sky in hues of blue and purple, fireflies mimicking the stars as they hovered about in the air. Although Ishiah knew that his primary objective was far from enjoying himself that night, he couldn't help but feel the tension leave his shoulder as he made his way on over to the Halloween party, intending to act as an unofficial chaperone for the night's activities.

But if the island often graced its inhabitants with ideal temperatures and climes, it still kept people on edge with its occasional and always unpredictable whims. That evening, the Compound was surrounded by a strange fog, lingering like smoke with occasional furls twisting in the air. Brow furrowing, Ishiah looked around for any possible source or cause of the damp air, running his hand through the nearest cloud, but could find nothing of special note.

So he stepped inside, and found himself burning under the sun in a flash of white feathers, barred with gold.

Comments

[radicalize]

"That," Lucy said with a short, decisive nod. "That's what we have to do." It was what she'd been trying to get him to do all along, distinctly aware that this couldn't have been real, no matter how absolutely tangible it all was. Somehow, though, as soon as the words left her mouth, she felt her face fall, eyes brimming with tears all over again. Her brother was dead at her feet and she had to leave him, and real or not, she didn't know if she could. Sucking in a sharp, audible breath, one that, had others followed in close succession, would have been an obvious sign of her hyperventilating. She was trying to hold on, at least, but had no idea how to. Once again, the goddamn island had found her weakness, and as much as she didn't want to fall apart in front of Ishiah, it was becoming increasingly more of a possibility.

She swallowed heavily and held up a hand, the one that wasn't clutching a gun to her side. "I can't — Wait," she breathed, stepping back. "I need a minute. You can go, get safe, but I need a minute, I can't —" Her palm lifted to her mouth, stifling a sob and buying her a moment's more composure, cheeks flushed from crying, the effort it took to try not to, and the heat of the desert, one that trees from Vietnam had no place being in. "Not yet."

[priorcommitment]

The fact was that Ishiah had never really shed a single tear in his life. Not in the way that humans did, anyhow— his eyes had grown wet before to fend off dry, arid air, a practical response to the whims of the weather, but crying as a source of comfort, or to work past stressors, was something that he had never experienced. Watching Lucy, however, with tears pooling in her eyes and a red flush rising to her cheeks, was painful, and Ishiah was not sure at all what to do with that pain. Most of those in his life would have done well with a spar to keep them distracted, but Ishiah knew full well that Lucy was not that type— nor did he, honestly, want her to be. Even if she'd been able to pull the trigger on other people in this dream, he doubted that the satisfaction that came from the kick back of a gun would last any longer than the moment it tore against one's muscles.

He did know, however, that he wasn't going to leave her. Even if she wasn't crying, even if she had chosen to stay there by sheer stubbornness, he wouldn't have left her there. He knew that being alone was one of her great fears, and a part of Ishiah knew that it was his own as well.

From a distance he watched, noticing how much smaller Lucy looked right then, just a small being of color standing on a desert of white and green. So small that surely, she needed someone else there to give her more weight. And so Ishiah approached her from behind and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, one wing raised to block the sunlight from hitting her face too hard.

"Take your time," he told her quietly. All else considered, she was still his top priority.

[radicalize]

For a long few moments, Lucy simply stayed as she was, leaning against him and relishing what comfort it could provide. In the months since they'd met, Ishiah had become something like family to her, making this gesture now not entirely unexpected, but no less appreciated for that fact. This wasn't real, and it probably wasn't the worst thing to happen to her, but it still really fucking hurt, and she wouldn't have wanted to face it on her own. The mere idea of having no one was too frightening.

Finally, though, unsure how long had passed, every moment feeling like an eternity, she drew in a few deep, shaky breaths, her chest rising with every inhale, and nodded once. She wasn't ready, but it was close enough. "Okay," she said weakly, her voice not much more than an exhale. She had managed, at least, to keep from crying outright, though it took more work than she cared to admit to. "Okay. I just... A minute with my brother, and then we can try to get out of here." It didn't matter that it wasn't really him, that, at his word, he hadn't been killed in the war, that even if it had been him, there was no life left in him now. She couldn't just walk away from him, never had been able to.

[priorcommitment]

Even if Ishiah felt some amount of doubt over what good spending time with her brother's lifeless body could do for Lucy, he valued choice. That she was able to look at him with relative calm in her eyes and make the conscious decision to stay by her brother's body right then was enough for Ishiah to stand and wait some distance away. Close enough that the slightest disturbance would have called him back in a second, but that she had the time to speak her words without the peri overhearing.

And in that time, he looked back out over the familiar deserts, felt his breath grow shallow as he closed his eyes. The sun was still searing into his skin, and his throat longed for even the slightest trace of water. But throughout the nightmare as it played out, there was one thing Ishiah could center on as something almost positive. He stretched his wings out again, stretching them, fanning them, that important part of himself returned for a brief while.

"Whenever you are ready," he said to Lucy.