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[aeviternitas]

∞ The Murmur          (IC INBOX)

« the forsaken »

as an apparition within the Murmur that vessels share, the Forsaken most often appears sitting in a plain wooden chair with a low rounded back, gazing despondently into the distance. reach out?

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some time later;

[markingnight]

Forsaken, are you well?

[ A newly familiar mental presence; the Ironeye, it seemed, had tabled his earlier reservations about using the Murmur. ]

I wonder if I might impose upon your time.

[aeviternitas]

[ The Forsaken finds he knows the presence, but doesn't place it until he hears the voice. His own presence grows lighter for the recognition, a faint smile in his tone. He sounds tired, still, but almost a different sort of tired. A productive one, if such can be read only from a voice. ]

Ironeye. Far better than I was, thank you.

You are not imposing at all. What might I do for you?

[markingnight]

Are you still interested in that walk on the beach?

[ Ah -- a positive sort of tired, perhaps. Maybe something good happened. ]

I've seen a few seagulls around the city. I feel compelled to investigate their source. [ Ironeye's smile was without question audible. ]

[aeviternitas]

[ Something light fluttered across the Murmur: surprise, although pleased surprise.

He hadn't intended to renege on the offer but somehow... he hadn't expected the man to remember, either. He didn't question his own doubt, not in the moment. ]

Of course.

We are surrounded by channels on the east and west, but, the best views of the ocean might be to the south. Although as for the source of the seagulls... I wouldn't know, precisely. [ It might be a long walk! ]

[markingnight]

Then perhaps that mystery will have to wait for another day.

[ A sort of warm amusement suffused these words. One day, his jokes were going to land!! ]

South it is, then. I've been staying near Central Park, in a building called The Dakota. But I'd be happy to meet you where you are.

[ Perhaps it was inevitable that someone like Ironeye would prefer the biggest spot of green in Manhattan. Either way. He felt most at home in the overgrown park, where the slightly claustrophobic shadows of the buildings around them held a little less sway. ]

[aeviternitas]

[ One day! ]

I know of the park, but not the building. [ And while some buildings certainly stood out, many of them looked identical to the Forsaken. Who knew how long he would be strolling the numerous blocks around Central Park to find it? ]

I'm further east than would be convenient... oh - there's a pond in the southeast corner of the park, shaped like an uppercase gamma - ah, that's a letter, you don't know that, sorry - [ No, he wasn't poking fun at that message that came across the Murmur, the Forsaken couldn't read the languages here, either. (But the blunt 'I can't read.' had made him smile.) ]

It's strangely angular, in any case. We could meet there, at the outside point?

[markingnight]

I can point it out to you the next time we're in the area. It's near the lake with the boathouse. [ Ah, prime real estate. ] The architecture is more similar to what you'd find in my world. More embellishments and less... glass.

[ He'd be diplomatic about that, at least, but the perfectly smooth modern constructions of some of these Manhattan buildings were a little too minimalist at times. It felt a little alien. ]

I know which one you mean. I'll be there.

[ And so he would, by the bank overlooking the water made gray-green by the morning. Here, he sometimes spotted waterfowl of a type he'd never seen before -- a patchwork of vivid patterns and colors. They were his favorite so far. Today, however, native species were the only ones gliding about. ]

The residents seem to enjoy scraps. Maybe they still remember being fed.

[aeviternitas]

I shall set out anon.

[ The Forsaken was slower to the lake than the Ironeye for distance. True to his word, though, he looked far better than he had their first meeting outside of the dream. His sweater was new, the robes beneath still worn and a bit tattered but clean, bruises faded to an unappealing yellow but clearly healing. He looked tired, still, a bit underslept, but there was a strength in his slender frame more akin to the dream they shared.

He turned to watch the birds across the water; not so distorted as some of their land-faring brethren, but not untouched, either. ] Perhaps so. I wonder how long it has been since they were fed by the people that once lived here.

[ The god turned his gaze up towards his companion, offering a small smile. ] It's good to see you again.

[markingnight]

Not so long that they've forgotten how to beg. We should get moving before they start waddling up the bank. The black-and-white ones can be insistent. [ And, in fact, a few of them had changed course, quacking and carrying on as they saw another biped approaching. Honk honk, feed us! ]

...It's good to see you, too. [ The Forsaken looked better. Sounded better, which lightened his heart a little. ]

[ Ironeye closed the distance between them, turning southward. He looked much the same as he had before, though with the marked reappearance of a bow and quiver. It seemed he'd been able to find one since their last meeting. ]

Have you been well? You seemed a little surprised, earlier.

[aeviternitas]

[ The god watches the birds for a brief stretch of silence, gaze soft in a quiet wonder. These are not pests to him as they are the Ironeye; creatures that come to demand food are altogether different than creatures that come to demand life or limb.

He cannot remember when he last saw an animal so close.

The assassin pulls the Forsaken from his thoughts as he broaches the distance between them, and he too turns to the south to begin their trek. His gaze settles on the quiver briefly, a slight smile curving his mouth.

It suits him, he thinks. ]

Better, yes. [ His brows lift again in surprise, and his gaze slides askance, avoidant. Self-deprecating humor creeps into his tone. ] I- hadn't expected you to remember, I suppose.

[markingnight]

[ As the god watched the birds, so too did the assassin take in the Forsaken's reaction, as if committing the image carefully to a memory that the rain had long since made unreliable record. Was the Forsaken partial to animals...?

The sunlight caught on the god's long hair, rendering his profile in soft silver and gold. The sight made Ironeye desire, impulsively, find out what it was to reach out and run those long strands through his fingers.

Yet he was not an impulsive man.

...usually.

By the time the god turned, the Ironeye had already swept his own gaze quietly toward their path. He turned back at the Forsaken's response. ]

You're not easy to forget, you know.

[ He walked just a little closer to his companion than he ordinarily would, his voice almost a murmur. ]

Even for a man like me.

[aeviternitas]

[ The Forsaken glanced to his companion, brows lifted slightly in surprise. He smiled, something sad round the edges, and looked forward once more. ]

Most of the Lost who find their way to me convince themselves I was a fever dream, and eventually do forget me.

[ Not all of them, though. Some became worshipers, a rare few among a civilization that had long forgotten the gods. There were no temples or churches in his name as their once had been for the others, only private altars and whispered prayers. He did not mind it. ]

But I cannot fathom what you mean, 'a man like you.' Will you tell me? [ They had promised to keep each other's secrets, after all. ]

[markingnight]

A Nightfarer fights until the Night is broken. But in so doing, we lose ourselves -- the memories that make us who we are.

[ Ironeye's answer was, strangely, without much regret. Perhaps some memories, once dissolved, lightened the spirit. Perhaps it was difficult to mourn something one could no longer recall. Or perhaps, after having fought so long, even his dreams had brimmed over with Night. ]

There were some things I never lost. For the rest... I made a habit of writing things down.

So you see, my memory is full of holes. But if I should forget a promise to you, perhaps you ought to try your dagger? It might jog something loose. [ Ah, assassin humor. ]

after the hosts have fucked off

[markingnight]

Rain.

[ Warmth. A softer note to that mental voice, which was not present when he spoke to the others. ]

Will you meet me at the park this morning? There's something I'd like to show you. It's right by the pond from before.

[aeviternitas]

[ It was becoming, slowly, less startling to hear someone say his name - his first name, but that little skip of his heartbeat, the intake of breath, hadn't quite worn off. ]

Ironeye?

[ The Forsaken sounded tired, almost as if he had been woken from sleep, despite usually being awake quite early. ]

Yes, alright. I am at the shop, it will not take long.

[ The morning was not so much chilly as cold, and though not with the same frigid bite as weeks before, the Forsaken could still see his breath. The overcoat Ironeye had found him did not provide much in the way of warmth, but along with the sweater the other had found, it served well enough. (The sandals on his feet, however... he would need to find proper boots. He wasn't used to cold weather.)

The god looked as tired as he had sounded over the Murmur, but had put himself together before leaving the small shop, his hair combed and neatly braided. And though Ironeye had seen him worse off, the Forsaken had a new addition to the collection of wounds he was accruing: both hands were bandaged from wrist to palm, the middle finger of one hand and the index of the other, also wrapped. ]

[markingnight]

[ Before his time at the Hold, Ironeye had only himself to look after. The life of a shadow, uncorrupted by sentiment -- the Fellowship's brandished blade. Then, suddenly, he had comrades, and he'd taken it on himself to watch after them as well. For the first time since he could remember, he cared after others: memorizing preferences, habits, distinctions between magical catalysts he'd never needed to concern himself with. And now... ]

Rain, your hands.

[ He held his own gloved hands out, palms up, approaching closely enough that the god would be able to feel his body warmth. For his part, Ironeye looked to be carrying something tucked neatly betweeen his right arm and the top of a shoulder bag. The cold weather did not prevent him from wearing his customary armor.

Through the Tether: affection, warmth. A gentle concern. Rain, he was gathering, was the stubborn sort when it came down to it -- loathe to let his hurts prevent him from his objective. Something his fellows might accuse him of, only now the sword was in the other hand. ]

[aeviternitas]

[ The god's gaze raised to his companion's, brows lifting slightly at the gentle wash of something tender. His gaze lowered again, hands obediently resting in the other's. ]

Sleep's influence on a friend, [ he answered quietly, turning his hands to grasp the archer's reassuringly before returning them to his side. ] It is healing.

[markingnight]

[ Ironeye nodded, but not without brushing his lips against the back of Rain's fingers first, through the fabric of his mask. Such were the nature of wounds endured in the service of others. He turned to unroll the little package he was carrying, which turned out to be a thicker wool overcoat in a soft tan. Long and more suited to the cold weather. ]

I thought you'd need a thicker coat. This scarf, too. It seems warmer here than back home, but we might still see snow.

The wind can be biting.

[ ...excuse him, just glancing down at those sandals. It was true that Recluse and Revenant both seemed to prefer minimal footwear, but. Perhaps another round of looking for winter accessories might be in order in the near future. ]

[aeviternitas]

[ Rain watched the other bring his hand to his lips, then to the package. He canted his head curiously, before his expression lifted in surprise. Helping when it could be said he asked, or needed it, was one thing... but to think of him on his own, to find something for him without any prompting?

Even now, despite their obvious and even professed affection for one another, Rain wasn't sure what to make of it. But he reached for the overcoat and scarf, accepting them gingerly in both hands. ]

...Thank you, Ironeye. It is very kind of you.

[ His attention shifted to the direction of Ironeye's gaze, and Rain smiled a little sheepishly. ] It was not yet cold, when I found these.

[markingnight]

[ He smiled. ]

You're very welcome. But I'm afraid I can't completely accept the compliment. I had an ulterior motive, you see.

[ With a little bow, as if to say mea culpa, he nodded toward the path north, lined with trees in varying stages of undress. Some still bore fall colors, and the fallen leaves of their kin crunched pleasantly underfoot. He liked autumn, even if he rarely had the opportunity to appreciate it. ]

It's this way.

[aeviternitas]

[ The Forsaken smiled, as if he couldn't quite help himself. An ulterior motive? ]

Will you tell me what motive that might be? [ He asked, though followed willingly, pausing only long enough to loop the scarf about his neck. His tired tone shifted to something playful. ] Or must I suffer my fate blindly?

[markingnight]

[ He pulled aside his mask, smile broadening. ]

I planned to have you think me a kind and gentle soul, wholly selfless in my actions. Then, once you were lured into a sense of security... I might steal away a treasure of yours.

The same skills that serve an assassin also suit a thief, you see.

[aeviternitas]

[ Rain's brows raised as he listened, though a glance through his lashes and the quirk of his own lips suggested precisely what he thought of the assassin's confession. ]

I've little to steal, much less anything of value. Surely one with the skill of a thief can see that.

[ The Ironeye wasn't serious, of course - but the idea of the Forsaken having anything amounting to treasure seemed particularly nonsensical, even as a jest. ]

[markingnight]

[ There was a glint in the assassin's bright blue eyes that might even be called mischievous. ] I must respectfully disagree.

[ It was a scant three minutes' walk that would take them to the once-beloved Central Park Zoo. In days past, it housed all manner of beasts, including sea lions and a famously morose polar bear. Though now abandoned, its tile walking paths and pergola overhangs still remained. The latter was covered in greenery grown rampant. Strange and brightly-colored flowers still bloomed from the vines; perhaps their ordeal had made them hardier against the cold.

Ironeye's destination seemed to be a tall brick and glass building located in the interior. From the outside, it might be possible to see or or two windows that were broken, even past the overgrowth. Perhaps hint of a gnarled tree inside. Otherwise, the structure seemed surprisingly preserved. ]

[aeviternitas]

[ Rain hummed thoughtfully, a finger to his lip. ] And will I notice this treasure missing, once it has been artfully thieved?

[ Even in their conversation, he found his gaze drifting to the colorful leaves, the flowers that bloomed across climbing vines. With most of the city made of varying shades of grey or beige, and most of his time spent there, flora - of any kind, really - were still a novelty for the Forsaken, a god who had lived countless lifetimes in a waste of sand and stone.

His attention turned to the brick building as they neared, head tilting to peer through a broken window, though remained in step. ]