priorcommitment | 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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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.

bottles of reasons have now reached the ceiling

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