Uncomfortable Reunions

Am'shere is a place of greenery, lush vegetation, warmth, and humidity. The closest thing that Alexandria has is the Gardens. Green and warm throughout the year, with blooming flowers and vines hanging from the trees. Geir walks slowly through the park, his tail curving back and forth behind him. His posture and tail movement give the impression of a large, hunting cat. He pauses beside a large tree, taking in a deep breath and letting it out.

Chay twitches from within his hiding-crouch. The hunter-caste hides in the bushes, and looks occasionally towards the Soldier's Defense. He wears a hunter's green, interspersed with city-browns and soot.

He twitches again, as the other scaled comes past.

...and stares. Stares, two eyes STARING at the other sith-makar.

The copper-scale sniffs at the air and casts his eyes back and forth. A hand slowly covers the handle of the khopesh at his side. That tail continues to swish back and forth, and Geir pauses, his senses being stretched to the limit. "Herrrmm. Peace on your nest?", he intones quietly.

Stare. A stare as wide as an oruch cornered in a cave with a gnome, with naught but a match to defend himself. A stare as wide as a lucht happening upon the latest chili festival entries, and left unguarded.

"...not going back," gurgled. The sith-makar stands swiftly, hunter-fast and moves. Moves, placing the plants and shrubs between them.

"...how. How are you in Alexandria? When? Why?" All he'd known of the other was that he'd served--served as a guard. And yet, one might hope...

Slowly, and with great care Zeke exits from the Soldier's Defense, his brow heavy with thought until he spots Geir and... His green eyes narrow slightly at the difficult-to-see other form. Someone else. With a slight swish to his tail Zeke makes his way toward the other sith. Slowly he realizes that the other figure in the plants is someone familiar also. His tail gives another wag and he makes his way closer until he's within sight of them both. "Geir has been here ssome time kin. Do you know one another?"

Geir stares in surprise at the sudden noise. The half sentence. The appearance of Chay's head above the brush, and the speedy retreat of rust-scaled Sith. "Sser?", the copper-scale wonders. "Iss.. everything alright?" The hand moves from the handle of his blade, and the smol Sith moves forward carefully.

He straightens when Zeke speaks, and his head cants slightly. "Kin of yourss?", Geir asks, eyeing Zeke.

Staring. The hunter-caste stares at Geir, his look keen and terrified. He takes a step back.

"One knew you among the Charneth," Chay says, and glances 'round, before looking back to the other scaled. "One knew you sserved as a guard, among them." Oh, the invisible. Chay was one of them. A tormented servant--pushed about by two, noble brothers and their sense of 'play.'

Zeke nods to Geir. "Chay isss kin yess." The blue-scaled sith looks between the two. One coppery, the other rust-scaled. "We are not among the Charneth Chay. Geir isss not Charneth." He looks at Geir and motions the other to confirm his statement and thus put Chay at ease.

The copper-scale stares at Zeke for a moment. "This one knows Maksur, too?", Geir wonders, gesturing with a hand to Chay. Then the name is spoken. "Chay? One knew a Chay. In Charneth." The copper-scale Sith goes silent, his facial expression far away and thoughtful. Not all the thoughts are happy ones though. "Sserved? Yess, thiss one sserved. Sso that otherss would be left alone. Kin. Friendssss.." Geir's words trail off, the Sith now reliving... something.

And so, too--does the other. Chay takes another step back, his expression going still, still. Then, his look flicks over towards Zeke.

A long stare.

Then, back to the copper-scale. Ah. But it would be easier were he warrior-caste, and able to react with anger. A stress-relief button, maybe. Yet, hunter-caste and those in it are twitchy, twitchy. Perhaps some, more fire-tempered. Some, less.

But, twitchy. Quick. Chay's muzzle twitches. Once.

Zeke meets Chay's gaze, but there is a slight flinching there at that name. That word. One would have to have been looking for it, but perhaps the other two are too lost to memory to notice it. "Thisss one isss not warrior-cassste, but... thisss is a ssafe sspace." Zeke looks from one to another, grasping his quarterstaff tightly as though there might be a physical menace that he could face. That, would have been easier than the ghosts that haunted this space. The memories.

Geir blinks a few times, and lets out a long breath.

"One is not a warrior casste, but one agreess that this is a ssafe sspace." The copper-scale looks to Chay a moment. "One hopess you have lived well ssince your esscape, Chay. One has wondered how you have fared, these yearss." The copper-scale takes a few steps back, placing his back to a tree.

Safe...Chay lowers his foot back to the ground, his expression lost. He stares at nothing for a time.

For some time.

The birds croak as they fly overhead. Flutter. Honk. It is the slow fading of spring into summer, the change of one season to the next. And, Chay continues to stare, not even noticing when one of the celebratory fliers drops a ...

Plop. Plop.

...on the nearby ground. "Ssafe. ...ssafe. There have been no warrior-caste for ssome time." A slow look towards Geir. "You.../live/, kin." It's half a question, half a...something.

Something.

Zeke is happy to let silence reign. To let it settle and slip through the cracks until it becomes a warm comforting thing. He lets his heart rate slow, the tension fall away. Green eyes slide toward Geir. "Thisss one did not know that you... were captured by the Charneth." There is deep sorrow in his voice and gentle curiosity.

"One was held, Zeke. Held. As a guarantee towardss good behaviour." Geir growls lightly. "One ssaw. The cruelty of the massterss." He looks to Chay and nodss. "One livess. Not whole, but alive."

Tic. Tic.

Slowly, the tide rolls over. Slowly, the heart changes course--the quicking beat going steady, at least for now.

Perhaps it slows.

A touch.

"...held. Held, or ...they were of no mortal heart," the hunter says. Rasps. He stares at nothing a while longer.

"Chay." It is a gentle word, a name rather than a word though it sounds as the word it stands in place of might if it were spoken instead. But that word; it holds a lot, and right now Zeke wants no reminders. Nothing that might make this rise of memories worse. "Geir." Spoken differently, but with no less gentleness.

"This place is ssafe. We may sshare wordss here if we like or, thisss one wasss about to go to lunch. Perhapsss you would care to join?" He knows a quiet place where they will not be disturbed.

The copper-scale winces, and looks away. "No mortal heart." Geir straightens, and turns towards the Soldier's Defense. Slowly, he makes his way towards the building.

"The Charneth..." The Charneth were of no mortal heart. Chay's voice trails to silence at the words but he turns to follow. Something drives him--something keeps him with the other sith-makar. A grouping, of sorts.

Of sorts.

His tail flickers, picking up. His senses watchful, even if he, overall, is not.

-End