(no subject)
Niko had always been a morning person, as much as he could be with the sort of nocturnal life he and Cal lived by necessity, and he found yet again that the island accomodated him in that respect. There was no visible danger here, no obvious pitfalls and while Niko didn't entirely trust it, it was nebulous enough that he could forget it for hours at a time and try to make something of a life rather than just waiting for Damocles' sword to fall.
This morning was no different and after tea in the Compound, Niko headed to the beach to do his own yoga; teaching a class was nice, but it didn't allow him the peace and concentration that his own meditation and katas afforded and Niko found he still needed to take that hour or two of solace even in this arguably less-dangerous place in order to get his head together and motivations in order.
As he walked along the beach to find a place more suitable for quiet reflection than the usual busy paths to and fro, the toe of his boot struck something that wasn't the usual flotsam and jetsam that washed up along the shore when the tide went out. Niko frowned and knelt to retrieve the item in one smooth movement, only to have it slip from his fingers once he had.
Such an unassuming thing, dull brass and without ornament, but that crown had very nearly cost him his life. Niko touched the scar at his chest before bending to grasp it again.
Calabassa. It was an old artifact and one used for a very specific purpose, a purpose Niko was all too intimately familiar with. Of course, without the sacrifice it'd be useless.
Niko hoped that nobody ever found out exactly what it did. As far as he was aware, metahuman abilities disappeared upon coming to the island, but he didn't want to be the sacrificial lamb for someone's bid to become a telepath or to fly or god only knew what. Not this time.
This morning was no different and after tea in the Compound, Niko headed to the beach to do his own yoga; teaching a class was nice, but it didn't allow him the peace and concentration that his own meditation and katas afforded and Niko found he still needed to take that hour or two of solace even in this arguably less-dangerous place in order to get his head together and motivations in order.
As he walked along the beach to find a place more suitable for quiet reflection than the usual busy paths to and fro, the toe of his boot struck something that wasn't the usual flotsam and jetsam that washed up along the shore when the tide went out. Niko frowned and knelt to retrieve the item in one smooth movement, only to have it slip from his fingers once he had.
Such an unassuming thing, dull brass and without ornament, but that crown had very nearly cost him his life. Niko touched the scar at his chest before bending to grasp it again.
Calabassa. It was an old artifact and one used for a very specific purpose, a purpose Niko was all too intimately familiar with. Of course, without the sacrifice it'd be useless.
Niko hoped that nobody ever found out exactly what it did. As far as he was aware, metahuman abilities disappeared upon coming to the island, but he didn't want to be the sacrificial lamb for someone's bid to become a telepath or to fly or god only knew what. Not this time.