14 ☆ Revival
Good morning, everyone. Last night, I have found myself hatched anew in the Hall of Beginnings. It was a relief that not only can I remember what I had named myself before, but also many of the experiences I have had and people I have met in the last seven months
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It's good to see you again.
I'm Hawk. I called you my friend.
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Hello Hawk.
It is my hope that that designation holds on.
But I believe we need to speak, as soon as possible.
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Agreed on that last part. Name a place and a time. I'll be there.
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----->quicklog, slow
[No expectations, no hopes, Hawk kept telling himself. That Stellaris had even returned was a blessing he hadn't dared to count on. Maybe this meeting was best treated as a chance for both of them to have some questions answered. If he knew her at all, she would have them.
So he left the refuge of the Wilderness (finding someone wandering by with whom he could enter the elevator took thankfully little doing this time) and headed to the teahouse, asked for plain green tea and sat down to wait. He knew he looked ragged in a way mere sleep could not cure, but it hardly mattered now. He'd try and make this as easy for her as was even possible. Whatever his feelings, hers would be paramount this time.
Out of habit he'd sat where the lower tables were, cross-legged on a sitting mat. When she appeared at the door--alive, whole, the horrible wound vanished--he raised his head and closed his heart and watched her approach.
However she began, was her prerogative now.]
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We need to speak // As soon as possible. It was a bait on her part. She had no pressing reasons to talk with Hawk prior to the incident, and she asked no one else replying for urgent conversation. To see him answering with agreement rather than confusion was telling. Of what, exactly, she wasn't sure. In fact, she wasn't sure what to expect with this meeting, which was part of the reason she picked a public venue in broad daylight.
When she entered the teahouse, she saw him already seated. She walked to the counter, ordered black tea, then went over and sat across him at the table. She smiled, but not all of it reached her eye. He'd probably be able to tell the difference.]I hope you didn' ( ... )
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He did not smile in answer. It might have cracked the fragile facade of calm he was holding up. So he merely nodded a greeting and willed his voice to come clear. His left hand he kept closed in a loose fist, pressed to one leg, the injury not immediately visible.]
I said I'd be here. I am. You wanted to speak to me, so... [He breathed in, then out.] Stellaris. I am glad to see you, more glad than I can say. But it'd be a favour, for all that you owe me none, if we didn't dance around this.
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Then I suppose you know why, or at least part of why I called for you. [A heave. Her volume turned lower for the following sentence.] The one that killed me is identical to you, Hawk. And not only that, it also knew who I am to you. You know of its existence?
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I know. I don't know how, but if it was the same as the others, it came from the Tree. Something sent to torment. I'm not sure. It did its job, that's for damn sure.
[Closing his eyes for a moment, he steadied himself.] It knew what I knew, that's what I have to assume. And... then it would've known killing you would be one of the worst things it could do.
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I had come to the same conclusion. It had your appearance, but everything else about its presence is different. Or at least, I wish to place my trust in that being the true explanation, and not... others.
[It was easiest to blame the Tree, but she could think of multiple possibilities. Dissociative identity disorder. Installed personality. Or even the minuscule chance that he was just that good of a liar. On top of that, she still remembered his tattoo from back then: dragon and scarlet gashes across his mouth. She wondered if considering those alternatives made her a bad friend, but she just couldn't bring herself to place trust without question.]
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As she paused, he sought her gaze and held it, letting some of his guard fall. Concern, sorrow, confusion flickered in his expression, and heaviest the sense of regret that she had suffered for his hesitation.
I let them go, again and again. I can't. Not this time.]
I know. I saw it, though not for long. We--Huo, Sniper and I--killed it. And found you. It's not easy speaking of it to anyone, but there are others you can ask, if you need to.
[Again, he closed his eyes, though more gently this time. Consciously, he stiffened his spine and let his shoulders fall slack, gathering himself before he looked at her again. The memory, still to close. The clouded cast in her eyes whose cause he could not quite divine; she was doubtful or simply lost in thought.]
I'm sorry, Stellaris.
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What are you sorry for?
[She looked straight at him, her expression kept as neutral as possible. Her hanging tone carried true question, not a rhetoric of sarcasm or forgiveness.]
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He almost reached out with his right hand, but however much he wanted a touch to communicate reassurance, it would be more likely to do the opposite now. He rested his hand on the edge of the table instead, keeping it a wall between them.]
Your death wasn't of my doing, Stellaris. I know that. But the way of it, what you suffered... [He knew he was pulling them both back to something best forgotten. She had asked. He would not flinch now.] If the other was the Tree's creation, then it was pulled from something I dealt with before coming here.
[Carefully, he set his words.] I am sorry for your pain, and the reminder I have to think I am just by being here.
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A waiter came with their orders just as Hawk finished his apology explanation. With practiced ease, she put on a smile. Thank you, nice weather, no this would be all. The smile faded as soon as the waiter turned away. Slowly, she put sugar and milk into her cup. A reason not to look him squarely in the eyes.]
It really was painful, dying like that. [Stir, stir. She spoke just a tad above a whisper.] But if the reason I became a target was our connection, then I am as culpable as yourself by fostering one side of it. I don't think it's something that needs forgiveness.
[A sip, then she continued in a firmer manner.]I guess what I'm seeking right now is some clarity. Tree-creation is one thing, but if it was true that the other selves were ( ... )
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That's not really in my definition of friendship--taking blame for caring for someone, that is.
[His voice was quiet, and he drew breath as if to continue, then stilled as she went on first. As he heard the whole of her question, something darkened in his gaze. Careful as he wanted to be, there was something she did not quite seem to have grasped, and he needed to set that straight. Hawk held up his head, just so she could see his face and know he spoke the truth.]
Don't think that it's a mindless beast. It was tianlóng, a heavenly being--or rather a shadow, a warped mockery of one. Cruel and murderous. Nothing heedless about its actions, though.
[He hadn't touched the tea yet, and he didn't now. His hand on the table curled closed.]Do I share its powers? No. It killed because it could, but it did so wilfully and not on instinct. But I ( ... )
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[Heavenly being. Stellaris' eyes narrowed a little. That phrase invoked the strangely familiar words in Lyle's radio memory, 'celestial being', but the concept Hawk presented didn't feel fitting at all. Throughout history, words like heaven and celestial had been associated with human belief in the divine, but even as mankind extended their reach beyond the clouds where gods were thought to reside, the unverifiable claims remained, with adjustments over time.
Her expression then softened into one akin to regret.]
I have not suggested it to be mindless, have I? Yet if you meant to suggest reverence, I'm afraid the most I can offer is respect that that is the way of your world, just like it is a reality that a man shifts form into a dragon. My concern is safety in this place, of mine, of those around you's, perhaps even yourself in case the power was something that could [she paused ever so briefly, swallowing a lump in her throat] take ( ... )
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