priorcommitment | bottles of reasons have now reached the ceiling

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trixa iktomi

bottles of reasons have now reached the ceiling

There was little in the world that Ishiah liked less than uncertainty. Almost worse than knowing Robin was gone had been that period of waiting, hoping and almost believing that the puck's form would appear in an instant, that his smile would flash and his laughter peal like the ringing of bells, reassuring his featherduster that nothing wrong had happened at all, he'd only dipped to the side to appreciate the hydrangeas. Hope was a powerful thing to have, but to have it seep away with every passing second was painful, almost like igniting a flame to the air in his lungs and burning it all away.

This wasn't quite on the same level, but Ishiah knew right now that he'd done something the night prior, only he couldn't remember what. He saw everything with alarming clarity until the first taste of ambrosia. Then everything was simply a blur of color.

While it didn't necessarily mean that Ishiah had done anything worth regretting, it amounted to him falling back into behaviors he had so recently sworn off. And it threw into sharper relief that which he was missing more than his wings, than his home.

Robin.

Groaning lightly as his temples pounded, Ishiah went to sit at the front steps of his hut, braving the sun and figuring that whatever added pain he received from the light and the freezing cold atmosphere outside was probably deserved.

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"Eh, maybe it's because I've been pretending to be human for most of the last decade, give or take the occasional side-job. This is just... the extenuation, albeit an involuntary one. But people leave, they go home... eventually. Just have to... deal." It was a bit hypocritical of her to say it that way. She wasn't exactly dealing well at all if her usual state of irritation and boredom was any clue. She had to do something soon or she might just go insane.

She took a sip of the tea while she thought. It wasn't bad. It wasn't good, either, but between the cold and the snow it was just comforting enough to keep her pleasant. Conversational. Amicable, even, which was good since she was still trying to help her neighbor here.

"To everything there is a season." It was as good a philosophy as any, she'd found.

Her words weren't precisely lies, though nor did Ishiah think that Trixa meant them completely in earnest. Sometimes, the process of claiming something as truth had its own end, its own effect; sometimes, it was almost unfortunate that Ishiah couldn't manage it himself. That people left on the island went without saying, but that the only solution was to deal, to grit one's teeth, was a statement which shook the peri when expressed so directly. Almost made him want to fight, tooth and nail, to return to Manhattan and find Robin, to pull the puck into an embrace. Before he realized it, his breath was more ragged again, and Ishiah frowned more deeply as he drained the rest of his mug, left only with the lingering warmth in the clay.

"I wonder now, if there's any point in fighting it. If fighting it may be, indeed, the right answer," Ishiah murmured distantly, before he shook his head and focused his gaze. "You have something important to return to. As do I. This place, whatever it is, I'm convinced now that it is not and will not be forever."

She watched his facial expression change and the way he drank the last of his tea. Like a tightly wound coil, the peri looked to be filled with unused energy, just waiting to be released. That kind of energy could be dangerous. Should be dangerous. But around here was ultimately useless.

"What're you going to do until then? Until you're home?" Until he was where he belonged. It was a question she'd been asking herself everyday. Maybe he had a better answer than she did.

When speaking with Trixa, Ishiah didn't need to hold back. Didn't need to consider the consequences he'd face by telling the inhibited truth, nor needed to curtail his anger in the interest of not sparking any fear in the other person. She'd seen him at some of his most vicious during the war, she knew him for what he was, and so the storm that had so infrequently passed over his eyes those days swirled again, his lips pressing in a thin line.

"I... will keep on looking for an exit," he decided, a hand clasping over his wrist until his knuckles turned a pearly white. "I am through thinking that this place is the intended resting spot for any of us, and I can't approve of the way the island seems to toy with people. Throwing residents into the dinosaur territory without preamble, it serves no good purpose that I can think of. Of course, ultimately what's most important is that those here can pass unscathed, so I don't plan on throwing my blade left and right, but I am tired of trying to content myself."

"You find something worth fighting, come find me. I want off this rock, too." She had things to do back home. She had a home for once, dammit, she didn't want to loose it now. Say what you wanted about settling and going soft (which she wasn't), she had a place she belonged, calling to her as strongly as the sand and the surf called to her brother once upon a time.

But she was more...cautious if that was the right word. She didn't pick fights she couldn't win, or couldn't trick her way out of if things went wrong. And this place... she couldn't even put a face to what held her here. Let Ishiah make the noise, let him rattle some cages, she'd see what shook loose and be there to back him up if she needed to.

"In the meantime, I'll just keep playing along. Try not to kill anyone." Which might be harder to do than he thinks. "Look for something to keep me occupied. Know anyone that needs to be taken down a rung or six?" Her laugh was a mixture of bitterness and genuine inquiry. She could certainly use the challenge and nothing made her happier than showing up some shlub who deserved it.

But to do in in the proverbial locked room where there were only so many leads to follow...? That just made it more fun.

A look in Trixa's direction was all Ishiah required to give her assurance, that if there would ever come a time for war or fighting, she would undoubtedly be one of the first he turned to. She could fight. And she saw eye-to-eye enough with Ishiah on what mattered most that he could do so without worrying about how everything would turn out in the end. So his eyes narrowed just a touch, but he did not nod, did not give any other acknowledgment that he'd heard her at all, because it simply wasn't necessary, and might have detracted from the moment besides. While Ishiah was quick to take up a sword, he didn't enjoy it.

Relaxing soon after, he placed the mug down and clasped both hands together, tightly.

"I wouldn't kill anyone unless absolutely necessary," he said darkly, still thinking of the Banu Zadeh with some amount of remorse, even if it was pointless to argue that topic anymore. Robin had meant more to him, and he'd do the same if he needed to, over and over, for the puck's safety. "As for anyone who might need to be reminded of their fallibility... I suspect Robin has raised my tolerance for that type of mentality."

His lips quirked. "Although Caliban may be someone to talk to."

It took her a moment to place the name before she remembered the dark-haired bundle of attitude she'd run into not too long after she'd arrived. Kid was a mean sick, although she was willing to admit that her nature might have played a part in his irritation. She occasionally had that affect on people.

"The kid? Sure, I'll look him up." She'd take any lead he could offer and do her own research from there. And she'd ask around at the bar, islands were small, people engendered grudges. She only had to look at Freddie to see that.

While certainly not the type to sing endless praise, Ishiah had built up a soft spot for Caliban long ago, to the point where the young man was one of the people the peri felt most comfortable speaking with on the island in spite of the way that their personalities hardly matched at all. Considering the boy's circumstances, that he had turned out as well as he had was a huge credit not only to Niko's teachings, but the boy's inner fiber itself.

"He was Robin's best friend back in Manhattan, or... well, has become just that in recent years," Ishiah considered softly, noting that each mention of the puck became a little easier to stomach, even if it still left him feeling raw, like something course had burned over his skin. "He is quite the character."

Trixa's snort of amusement sounded loud in the morning quiet. "If Robin considered him fit company, he'd have to be." It was said more in earnest than in jest, she knew Robin, knew how hard it could be to keep the puck's attention for any length of time. Especially for a human. He must have crept in, had some... thing about him Robin found entertaining.

But then, Griffin and Zeke had certainly found their way into her heart. Not that they were normal by any stretch of the imagination, but still. It was a little disconcerting how easy it was to get attached. She never really had to worry about that with Leo, most of the time it felt like he'd always been there and always would be. She never woke up suddenly wondering how he'd gotten there or when he'd leave.

"God, I miss Leo." She didn't notice she'd spoken aloud.

Ishiah had never felt that Robin's judgment was especially sound when it came to those that he kept around him. It was a pattern which had only worsened over the years, for him to pick those who were dangerous, perhaps because that was one of the increasingly few ways which could help the puck feel alive, could feel the precipice between life and death with the tips of his toes, curling them over the edge. Seraglio had only been proof of that, and Caliban was, if anything, worse. Not in personality, no. Even the peri could acknowledge that Caliban was a young man worth knowing. But he was still a bomb that the peri was only waiting to see go off.

Licking his lips, he said. "He's certainly fair enough company on the island. Dangerous young man, far more dangerous back home where his Auphe blood still runs strong. But he adds something, in getting to know him."

His eyes flashed over to her at the admittance, related but still coming seemingly out of nowhere.

"How long have you and Leo kept in close company?"

So lost was she in her thoughts of Leo, she missed the part about Cal being Auphe. It was telling, her own loathing and outright fear (not that she'd admit to that to anyone, even Leo) of the race went deep, very deep and normally that little revelation would normally have her jumping. But as it were, she didn't even notice it.

She didn't even hear what Ishiah said, but Leo's name on his lips caught her attention. Damn, he'd asked her a question, hadn't he. Slipping little Trickster.

"Sorry, wool-gathering, what'd you ask about Leo?"

"I was under the impression," Ishiah began, as though nothing much had happened at all; he wasn't one to point out a weakness even when exposed to him except to those with whom he quarreled quite regularly and without reservation. Trixa had yet to nestle herself among that incredibly small number, in part because they had only conversed so closely for a short time, but also because she didn't seem quite as keen on ruffling Ishiah's feathers as some. "That tricksters don't tend to keep in incredibly close company most of the time, but you and Leo seem to be an exception. Has this always been the case, or is it a more recent development?"

"Define 'recent', Ishiah." She chuckled, the word took on different connotations when you live for a few hundred, a few thousand years. What was recent?

Running a hand through her wild and unruly curls she looked out, past the firepit and back into the jungle. "But I guess no matter how you count it the answer's a long time. We used to run across each other - Leo, Loki, wreaking his brand of havoc, me wreaking mine. Our paths just kept crossing. And crossing. Then we started working together occasionally and somewhere along the line we realized that that worked out really well. We go our separate ways on occasion, but always end up back together." She gave another chuckle. "His family likes me more than him. It's cute."

Edited 2011-01-28 02:36 (UTC)

"Recent, I suppose, is up to each individual to decide for him or herself. Itself. But you know what I mean, being that I certainly hadn't heard of your running alongside Loki until your time here on the island," Ishiah replied then, his clarification practical almost to a fault, although the voice was laced with just a note of fondness for the idea of two people crossing paths repeatedly and, after some time, finding each other. Running side by side.

It reminded him very strongly of how things had been between him and Robin. He tried to push away the unbidden thought from his mind; it didn't have much of a place to be thought of then, and would only undo whatever amount of progress the both of them had made.

"You'll run by his side at some point again," he said, feeling certain of it.

Her voice darkened. "I better. Because if I don't... this island's gonna be hell for everyone." And to a certain extent, she meant it. If she had to, she'd tear this place apart to get home. She'd only tolerate being trapped for so long and then?

Well, then she'd get creative.

The dark tone almost took Ishiah by surprise, but soon enough he started thinking on his own terms, the way he'd feel if he were never to see Robin again, and felt his own resolve growing shadowed as he stood with a curt nod. Better to nip the conversation in the bud before it went too far, he thought, turning to head back into his hut.

"Make sure you let me know if that ever happens," he warned, both for Trixa's sake, and in an effort to let her know that, well. He didn't want her go to crazy on the island's residents.

Fortunately, Trixa wasn't one of the tricksters that saw fit to harm innocents.

The dismissal was as obvious as it was expected. It was a wary friendship the two had, one borne of necessity and tolerated as long as it was needed. And apparently, the moment had passed. Not too surprisingly, considering her comments.

Yeah, maybe it was good the conversation ended there - between the two of them... it could get pretty damn messy.

"Get some more sleep if you can, best thing for a hangover is to sleep through it."

Trixa got up and headed back to her own hut.

Ishiah watched as Trixa stood, eyes kept carefully on her and still unable to decipher her to any meaningful degree, only one of many things that made him wish that Robin could somehow return to the island, offer a guiding hand in the same way that he had so many times in Manhattan (though from a distance, more often through messages left on the phone or emails than by direct contact).

But rather than making efforts he knew weren't likely to come to fruition that day, he simply nodded as she left.

"The same to you, Trixa. I'll speak to you again soon," he said, retreating further into his hut.

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bottles of reasons have now reached the ceiling

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