It is not uncommon to find Osiris awake long after most in the Iron Temple have gone to sleep. He works long into the night, forcing himself to study, to learn, to get better. Certainly, no-one can fault his dedication, no matter what they may think of him.
Tonight though has come to inevitable collapse. Head pillowed on his arms on the desk, Osiris sleeps fitfully, brow furrowed in concern... or pain... or fear. The candles have burned down nearly to nothing, and his fingers curl, dig into his arms as he dreams.
He has always dreamed vividly, ever since Sagira resurrected him; before he had a name, when he was just a new thing, scared and disoriented, trying to adjust to this world he found himself in. He dreams of the Darkness, of the terrible shapes that lie within it. Of the collapse and the ruin it wrought upon the world. Dreams of dark halls carved from black stone, and the watching thing that waits in the centre. Of the shifting, branching realities, possibilities, futures.
This is, unfortunately, not an uncommon sight, as much as Felwinter wishes that Osiris would give some consideration to his body's physical needs. What good is all of his studying if he's too run down to apply it? But this is not a battle to be won all at once, and so instead of nagging Osiris to sleep, Felwinter has decided to start on something simpler - staying hydrated, for one, and possibly fed if he manages to spare the attention. These, at least, don't require Osiris to take a proper break which is not ideal, but it's a place to start.
Felwinter is often the only other awake this late - truth be told, he doesn't actually need sleep the same way others do, but he still wants it and here at the Iron Temple it's actually safe to rest. True rest, not curled close to a gun poised to wake up and fight or run. Perhaps in time Osiris too will find some measure of peace here.
But until then, Felwinter has taken to either draping a blanket over Osiris if he's fallen asleep on his work or carrying him back to his chambers if not. But this time...something is clearly wrong. Osiris's face is twisted in pain and as loathe as Felwinter is to wake him, this could hardly be considered rest. He won't be doing Osiris any favors if he drapes a blanket over him as usual and walks away.
He rests a hand on the sleeping man's shoulder, enough to pull him back to the waking world but hopefully not enough to startle. "Osiris."
He is drowning in the deep, crushed by the weight and pressure as he searches for that lone point. Things move in the depths, great shadows that he cannot make out the shape of. He sees flashes; a city ringed with spears, a pulsing, rotting, endlessly hungery thing growing in pits and caverns, a garden which grows in every direction, coiling endlessly through myriad circuits.
And that thing watching. He knows that he does not want it to see him.
He flinches at the touch, snapping awake, and stares wide-eyed at his mentor, though he does not quite see him, not yet.
He takes a deep breath, then another, and finally squints to see in the dim light. Felwinter. He– he's in the study. He isn't drowning.
"I–" Words are difficult and he reaches up to scrub at his eyes. "I'm sorry. I– I must have fallen asleep."
Felwinter just stands there with an unnatural stillness, aside from a gentle grounding squeeze of Osiris's shoulder, as his apprentice comes back to himself. Only when he seems to know where he is does Felwinter release him to drape the blanket over his shoulders.
"You did, and not well. I thought it best to wake you." And it is best not to pry, at least as long as this doesn't become a repeat incident that requires intervention. Osiris is almost as stubborn as he is - he will talk if he wants to, and if not, Felwinter can let a singular occurrence slide.
"Come, I will make tea. It will help." It's a familiar ritual for both of them, and this time he has an herbal blend in mind. Warm comfort without providing more fuel for Osiris to burn himself with, because he really does need to get some proper rest
He ducks his head, flushing a little, when the blanket is draped over him. He pulls it tight around his shoulders, clasping it to his chest. Embarrassing to have his mentor take care of him this way, and yet... it feels pleasant as well. After so long spent wandering the wilds before he came here, comfort and care is still something that he is adjusting to.
"Thank you," he says at the offer of tea. Something warm might help; though the dreams are fading, the fear in them lingers even in waking. He stands up but keeps the blanket wrapped around himself as they head over to the sitting area where Felwinter receives guests. "It is late. I am sorry if I woke you, or interrupted you."
Felwinter may not be the most outwardly emotive of the Iron Lords, but that doesn't mean there aren't people he cares deeply for. He wouldn't leave anyone under their protection to suffer in such an obvious nightmare...but he also wouldn't be offering additional care so freely to someone he didn't know and like. "There's no need to apologize. I would have woken you sooner if you had been more obviously in distress."
The act of preparing tea is an old ritual for them both. Sometimes he uses it as a grounding exercise for a restless mind, either his or his student's, but tonight his primary focus is on Osiris. He's followed to the sitting room without complaint or any further commentary regarding his work while Felwinter prepares tea, which is absolutely a sign that he's unwell. Osiris rarely stops unless his body physically gives out or Felwinter makes him.
It takes little time at all to boil a kettle with the aid of Solar fire but steeping requires patience. Herbal tea even more so, but by the time Felwinter brings a tray holding the kettle and two teacups to the table the scent is already noticeable: lavender and chamomile, among lesser quantities of other herbs. It's a far cry from the Assam they normally favor. "This will not help you find focus for further study," he warns. "Your work ethic is admirable, but you must also learn to listen to your body's needs."
Osiris settles on one of the high backed chairs in the sitting room, legs crossed beneath him, as Felwinter makes tea. The sounds of it are familiar, soothing. This is a ritual they have built between themselves, though it has not taught him much patience outside of this one specific instance.
He's drifting again by the time Felwinter sets down the tea, mind already running to his dreams and the visions that sometimes plague him. That point in the depths, the terrible darkness which drifts beneath the surface.
He startles when Felwinter speaks, dragging himself back to the here and now with more difficulty than he should have.
"There's not enough time," he says quietly in response. "I have to keep working."
Felwinter considers pulling a chair closer to Osiris's, but he recognizes that distant look in his student's eyes and thinks better of it for now. The harsh noise of the chair legs scraping across stone isn't going to do Osiris any favors.
Instead he very gently tips Osiris's face up to look at him, finger still warmed by Solar energy. An anchoring point. "You're drifting again. Stay with me." There's no judgment in his voice; it's just a statement of fact. And while he had originally intended to let Osiris tell him - or not - at his leisure, it's quickly become apparent that Osiris is very much not fine. Perhaps it was more than just a simple nightmare, or the nightmare has given way to more visions. Regardless, leaving Osiris to his own devices is no longer an option. The man needs rest - actual rest beyond the bare minimum a human body demands to maintain consciousness - and he's not going to get it at this rate.
Felwinter tilts his head up and he lets him without protest, still struggling to focus. Contact helps, frustrating as it is to need it. He shouldn't need help. He should be able to drag himself out of this state on his own.
"Apologies," he murmurs in response. He sits up a little more straight, as if that will drag his thoughts back to their proper order.
He clenches his jaw at the question, frustration welling up that it was even noticed. Why him? No-one else seems to struggle in this way and it is distressing to not be able to exert as much control over these dreams and visions as he can over his Light. "I'm not sure," he says. "Perhaps. I saw..." He shakes his head. "It's stupid. A restless mind that I need to control better."
Drifting and spiraling. It's why Felwinter is making Osiris look at him in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, he'll get through. "You have nothing to apologize for. Although you might consider being gentler with yourself." No mystery has ever become clearer through berating it, after all. "You have never been given to idle daydreams or flights of fancy. 'Stupid' is not the right word." He trusts that Osiris can tell the difference between a simple dream and something more, and that if he's remaining this shaken, there must be a reason.
After all, how many times has he been called paranoid when there is a very real, Warmind-shaped reason for him to take certain precautions?
But with that said, Felwinter releases him to attend to the tea and to allow Osiris a moment to process.
"I cannot afford to be 'gentle'," Osiris replies, acid on his tongue. He needs to be better. He has to be better. He has this immortality, his many lives, is it not his duty to use them?
Felwinter steps away and Osiris slumps back in his chair. No matter his willpower, he cannot escape his exhaustion. He hovers over his response for a few seconds, and then bites back his impulse to hide. Felwinter has never given him any reason for mistrust.
"I dream of the Darkness," he says quietly. "Of something waiting in it, watching."
A pouka lazily floated over from the pond as a Hunter clad in white leathers entered the room. It circled around her head once before nudging up against the Ghost floating by her shoulder, cooing softly. She didn't need its help, but the Ghost clearly did.
Lucid grunted, ducking under the fins of the cuddly pouka. "Would you stop that?" He huffed.
Khalom cupped a hand around Lucid and pulled him towards her chest. "You sure about that?" She asked as he hovered above her palms. "From what I've heard, these guys kind of instinctively know when something's wrong." She eyed him carefully as he wilted. She didn't need the pouka's ability to sense that something was wrong with him, and had been since the Witness used him to connect to the Veil.
".. I'll be fine," he said slowly. He wasn't fine. In time he would be.
But they weren't here for some pouka therapy. Khalom was here to see Osiris.
Outside of working with him during the race to secure the Veil, Khalom had very little experience with "The Grumpy Warlock to end all Grumpy Warlocks," as she referred to him, and the urgency of the matter hadn't allowed for casual interactions. She could sometimes have... problems with grumpy authority figures, but everything she heard about him didn't paint him as a hardass.
Just someone who didn't put up with bullshit and nonsense, which was a problem, considering Khalom was at least 75% bullshit and nonsense.
She approached his corner with as little extra energy as she could manage, holding in the urge to bound and bounce. "Ur, Osiris, sir?" Yes, that was respectful wasn't it? "Could I pester ya?"
Osiris had returned to Neomuna after a time spent back in the Last City, with Saint. It had been... healing, despite the direness of the situation. How long had it been since they had last just spent time together? And he had spoken to Ikora, to Zavala, to Saladin and Shaxx. Renewing old bonds, and explaining the situation as he saw it.
Now he had settled in his corner of the room with the pouka pond, because his work with the Veil could not be delayed forever, no matter how much it filled him with apprehension.
He sat on his low chair, journal open on his lap as he checked through notes, cross-referencing everything that they had seen with his own information, as well as the work of other scholars: Ulan-Tan, Pujari, Toland even. While the man was an arrogant fool who would need to be dealt with, he did have some insight.
He did not notice immediately when Khalom arrived, not until the young Guardian spoke. He looks up at her, eyes narrowed. The Young Wolf, or Fox as Saladin called her. The first to master Strand. An interesting figure from all that he has heard and seen.
"Uh, yeah!" Khalom nodded as Lucid de-compiled. "I've been trying something. Experimenting? I wanted your thoughts on it."
Strand had surprised her. Khalom had always been most comfortable with Void, the yawning abyss of nothing and everything. She did use Arc and Solar on occasion, and had even picked up Stasis to better understand her Fireteam member who had communed with the Pyramid on Europa. But Void just made sense. It was the first Light she had used, the instinctive power that came after Lucid had revived her for the first time. Sure, it needed her hungry and tired, and left her more so afterwards, but the weight of Void in her heart felt like home. It felt like a conversation with a good friend, someone you could talk to hours for and not feel the time passing by. It came to her naturally as breathing.
Strand? Strand was all that and more.
Finding the strange essence on Neomuna, and learning it was everywhere, something had awoken in Khalom, no pun intended. She flew on green threads, bore strange little creatures called Threadlings, and wove armour to protect herself. Those days training with Osiris had been eye opening. Letting go, going with the flow, she already embraced that way of thinking. Strand seemed like a natural extension of her personality and thoughts.
And now that there had been a lull, a tense quiet after the Witness invaded the Traveler, Khalom had some down time to see exactly what she could do with it.
"You know that Woven Armour stuff?" She asked. "There's been a few times where, if I'm moving fast enough, I can almost leave it behind? Kind of like a copy of me." She shook her head. "But when I'm trying to do it on purpose, it just collapses into a useless pile of green spaghetti. You had those..." She snapped her fingers, trying to remember what Forgot-Me-Not had told her. "Reflections? I think? I know it's not the same, but, I was wondering if you could help me make this more solid."
Osiris has eschewed mentoring and teaching for many years. Since his exile certainly, knowing that his Cult will hang on his every word and yet hear none of it. But even before then... it had become uncomfortable, cut into his already limited time, and as rumours had spread about him, people had become wary.
Returning to teaching since arriving on Neomuna has been a strange experience. Not unpleasant, but... strange, like putting on a set of clothing that has not been worn in a long time.
"Of course," he agrees, and sets aside his book. He stands up to face the young Guardian, listening to her story. Copies... interesting. It makes sense he supposes; he has known that the Light is capable of such for centuries. That the Darkness can do so is not much of a surprise. "Reflections yes, projections of Light. That these collapse when you try to 'do it on purpose' would suggest that your grip is too tight. Too much focus can be detrimental."
Khalom perked up as he agreed. Now that the urgency of the situation had died, now that mastering Strand in time was no longer of the essence, she hadn't expected him to say yes so readily. She just had no one else to ask given that, as far as she knew, only she and Osiris had any knowledge and skill with it.
"Don't tell my Fireteam leader that," Khalom laughed with a shake of her head. "She's always on my ass about paying attention and getting distracted by whatever whatever." Artemis was always dragging Khalom's focus back to the matter at hand, and she was thankful for that honestly. In return, Khalom kept Artemis from getting too buried under her duty. Part of why they made a good match.
"We, uh, might not want to do this here, though," she added, face darkening to a deep purple. "Sometimes it... explodes?" Khalom was glad that the population of Neomuna wasn't around, and that no one was around to be caught in the crossfire. Or see her more embarrassing failures that resulted in her being tangled in a yarn-barf of Strand strings.
"I did not say that you should drop your focus altogether," Osiris replies. "Merely that focusing too intently on Strand itself is likely to cause problems." It is like breathing in a way; if you really stop and think about it, try to make it something which is managed consciously, then it tends to become erratic.
"I remember your experiences while learning it," Osiris replies. "We can go to the retreat if you prefer." That area is clearer, and probably less likely to cause collateral damage.
Khalom suppressed a soft snicker, and made a mental note that Osiris took her joke literally. She'd have to take care not to let her humour get out of hand, or be too hard on him with it.
"I much prefer it, yes," she nodded. "Both for my dignity, and as to not cause any damage to these cute lil'guys." She gestured towards a few of the pouka who had begun to fly closer to herself and Osiris. "I don't think I could forgive myself if I hurt em." She brushed her hand along one, which purred in response and followed as Khalom began to walk from the Hall of Heroes.
"Joking aside, I think how Strand works is why I took to it so well," she said, unable to keep herself from filling the silence. "I've never been as good with Arc and Solar, which need a lot of of a guiding hand than I found Void did, and I barely even touched Stasis." She held her hand out and thin green threads briefly became visible. "I'm not that good of a thinker. Rhythm makes more sense to me than patterns." She let the Strands go and glanced back at Osiris. "You can feel them, too, right? Is it different for you? I know even the same Light can work different between Guardians..."
The puka have indeed become very fond of Osiris, enough that one of them curls against his cowl briefly as he moves to leave. It had been disconcerting at first, especially their bouts of drawing up memories, but he has become... fond of them, in his own way. The companionship is pleasant.
"I think you may underestimate their survival capabilities," Osiris says. They certainly seem extremely hardy, and more attuned to the weave than humans.
"The elements of the Light seem to be more... chaotic. You must exert your will to avoid them becoming uncontrollable. Even a candle can become a wildfire that devours a forest given enough fuel and freedom." He thinks that need for control had been part of what led to his struggles over recent months, and with Strand. He had never truly been able to 'let go' lest his Light cause incalculable destruction. "Stasis, Strand, they are more ordered, albeit in different ways. From what I have gathered, stasis requires more fine understanding and acceptance of the order and control that you impose on the world and other people. Strand requires the acceptance that you are merely one part of the universe." That you too will be carried along by something greater than yourself.
"I mean... did you hear the news story of the pouka getting stuck in the storm drain?" Khalom gave a wry grin. "I'm not sure I wanna go testing their survivability." She patted a nearby pouka in farewell as she and Osiris walked away from the pouka pond. Maybe one day the Last City could have its own pouka pond. Light knew that many of its people needed it.
"I think I know what you mean," she continued, thinking on what Osiris had said. "Void draws so much from me. If I'm not careful, next thing I know I haven't slept in forty eight hours or haven't eaten in twice as long." Lucid was usually her means to remember to take care of herself, but if she was on a long mission, or really focused on it... "I've never felt like I was exerted my will though. It's more a conversation? Give and take." Void was Light, but it was *weird* Light, from what she understood. Which, of course, technically wasn't much. Khalom hadn't spent much time studying the subject.
"I like that though... accepting my place in this crazy world." She smiled lazily.
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timeasmymeasure
For Felwinter
Date: 2023-07-27 04:12 pm (UTC)Tonight though has come to inevitable collapse. Head pillowed on his arms on the desk, Osiris sleeps fitfully, brow furrowed in concern... or pain... or fear. The candles have burned down nearly to nothing, and his fingers curl, dig into his arms as he dreams.
He has always dreamed vividly, ever since Sagira resurrected him; before he had a name, when he was just a new thing, scared and disoriented, trying to adjust to this world he found himself in. He dreams of the Darkness, of the terrible shapes that lie within it. Of the collapse and the ruin it wrought upon the world. Dreams of dark halls carved from black stone, and the watching thing that waits in the centre. Of the shifting, branching realities, possibilities, futures.
They are rarely good dreams.
no subject
Date: 2023-07-27 11:54 pm (UTC)Felwinter is often the only other awake this late - truth be told, he doesn't actually need sleep the same way others do, but he still wants it and here at the Iron Temple it's actually safe to rest. True rest, not curled close to a gun poised to wake up and fight or run. Perhaps in time Osiris too will find some measure of peace here.
But until then, Felwinter has taken to either draping a blanket over Osiris if he's fallen asleep on his work or carrying him back to his chambers if not. But this time...something is clearly wrong. Osiris's face is twisted in pain and as loathe as Felwinter is to wake him, this could hardly be considered rest. He won't be doing Osiris any favors if he drapes a blanket over him as usual and walks away.
He rests a hand on the sleeping man's shoulder, enough to pull him back to the waking world but hopefully not enough to startle. "Osiris."
no subject
Date: 2023-07-28 12:07 am (UTC)And that thing watching. He knows that he does not want it to see him.
He flinches at the touch, snapping awake, and stares wide-eyed at his mentor, though he does not quite see him, not yet.
He takes a deep breath, then another, and finally squints to see in the dim light. Felwinter. He– he's in the study. He isn't drowning.
"I–" Words are difficult and he reaches up to scrub at his eyes. "I'm sorry. I– I must have fallen asleep."
writing this in an Elsa costume is an odd experience lol
Date: 2023-07-29 01:21 pm (UTC)"You did, and not well. I thought it best to wake you." And it is best not to pry, at least as long as this doesn't become a repeat incident that requires intervention. Osiris is almost as stubborn as he is - he will talk if he wants to, and if not, Felwinter can let a singular occurrence slide.
"Come, I will make tea. It will help." It's a familiar ritual for both of them, and this time he has an herbal blend in mind. Warm comfort without providing more fuel for Osiris to burn himself with, because he really does need to get some proper rest
I mean, seasonally appropriate for Felwinter? XD Now imagining Fel learning stasis...
Date: 2023-07-29 01:31 pm (UTC)"Thank you," he says at the offer of tea. Something warm might help; though the dreams are fading, the fear in them lingers even in waking. He stands up but keeps the blanket wrapped around himself as they head over to the sitting area where Felwinter receives guests. "It is late. I am sorry if I woke you, or interrupted you."
alas if only...AU time maybe?
Date: 2023-08-04 06:03 am (UTC)The act of preparing tea is an old ritual for them both. Sometimes he uses it as a grounding exercise for a restless mind, either his or his student's, but tonight his primary focus is on Osiris. He's followed to the sitting room without complaint or any further commentary regarding his work while Felwinter prepares tea, which is absolutely a sign that he's unwell. Osiris rarely stops unless his body physically gives out or Felwinter makes him.
It takes little time at all to boil a kettle with the aid of Solar fire but steeping requires patience. Herbal tea even more so, but by the time Felwinter brings a tray holding the kettle and two teacups to the table the scent is already noticeable: lavender and chamomile, among lesser quantities of other herbs. It's a far cry from the Assam they normally favor. "This will not help you find focus for further study," he warns. "Your work ethic is admirable, but you must also learn to listen to your body's needs."
Should definitely do an AU!
Date: 2023-08-04 08:59 am (UTC)He's drifting again by the time Felwinter sets down the tea, mind already running to his dreams and the visions that sometimes plague him. That point in the depths, the terrible darkness which drifts beneath the surface.
He startles when Felwinter speaks, dragging himself back to the here and now with more difficulty than he should have.
"There's not enough time," he says quietly in response. "I have to keep working."
no subject
Date: 2023-08-08 06:03 am (UTC)Instead he very gently tips Osiris's face up to look at him, finger still warmed by Solar energy. An anchoring point. "You're drifting again. Stay with me." There's no judgment in his voice; it's just a statement of fact. And while he had originally intended to let Osiris tell him - or not - at his leisure, it's quickly become apparent that Osiris is very much not fine. Perhaps it was more than just a simple nightmare, or the nightmare has given way to more visions. Regardless, leaving Osiris to his own devices is no longer an option. The man needs rest - actual rest beyond the bare minimum a human body demands to maintain consciousness - and he's not going to get it at this rate.
"What troubles you? Another vision?"
no subject
Date: 2023-08-08 10:05 am (UTC)"Apologies," he murmurs in response. He sits up a little more straight, as if that will drag his thoughts back to their proper order.
He clenches his jaw at the question, frustration welling up that it was even noticed. Why him? No-one else seems to struggle in this way and it is distressing to not be able to exert as much control over these dreams and visions as he can over his Light. "I'm not sure," he says. "Perhaps. I saw..." He shakes his head. "It's stupid. A restless mind that I need to control better."
I am so sorry, Fel was not cooperating and I kept losing my post and bleh
Date: 2023-09-15 04:46 am (UTC)After all, how many times has he been called paranoid when there is a very real, Warmind-shaped reason for him to take certain precautions?
But with that said, Felwinter releases him to attend to the tea and to allow Osiris a moment to process.
No worries at all <3
Date: 2023-09-15 09:02 am (UTC)Felwinter steps away and Osiris slumps back in his chair. No matter his willpower, he cannot escape his exhaustion. He hovers over his response for a few seconds, and then bites back his impulse to hide. Felwinter has never given him any reason for mistrust.
"I dream of the Darkness," he says quietly. "Of something waiting in it, watching."
no subject
Date: 2023-07-30 06:04 pm (UTC)Lucid grunted, ducking under the fins of the cuddly pouka. "Would you stop that?" He huffed.
Khalom cupped a hand around Lucid and pulled him towards her chest. "You sure about that?" She asked as he hovered above her palms. "From what I've heard, these guys kind of instinctively know when something's wrong." She eyed him carefully as he wilted. She didn't need the pouka's ability to sense that something was wrong with him, and had been since the Witness used him to connect to the Veil.
".. I'll be fine," he said slowly. He wasn't fine. In time he would be.
But they weren't here for some pouka therapy. Khalom was here to see Osiris.
Outside of working with him during the race to secure the Veil, Khalom had very little experience with "The Grumpy Warlock to end all Grumpy Warlocks," as she referred to him, and the urgency of the matter hadn't allowed for casual interactions. She could sometimes have... problems with grumpy authority figures, but everything she heard about him didn't paint him as a hardass.
Just someone who didn't put up with bullshit and nonsense, which was a problem, considering Khalom was at least 75% bullshit and nonsense.
She approached his corner with as little extra energy as she could manage, holding in the urge to bound and bounce. "Ur, Osiris, sir?" Yes, that was respectful wasn't it? "Could I pester ya?"
no subject
Date: 2023-07-30 11:52 pm (UTC)Now he had settled in his corner of the room with the pouka pond, because his work with the Veil could not be delayed forever, no matter how much it filled him with apprehension.
He sat on his low chair, journal open on his lap as he checked through notes, cross-referencing everything that they had seen with his own information, as well as the work of other scholars: Ulan-Tan, Pujari, Toland even. While the man was an arrogant fool who would need to be dealt with, he did have some insight.
He did not notice immediately when Khalom arrived, not until the young Guardian spoke. He looks up at her, eyes narrowed. The Young Wolf, or Fox as Saladin called her. The first to master Strand. An interesting figure from all that he has heard and seen.
"You may. Is it about Strand?"
no subject
Date: 2023-07-31 12:20 am (UTC)Strand had surprised her. Khalom had always been most comfortable with Void, the yawning abyss of nothing and everything. She did use Arc and Solar on occasion, and had even picked up Stasis to better understand her Fireteam member who had communed with the Pyramid on Europa. But Void just made sense. It was the first Light she had used, the instinctive power that came after Lucid had revived her for the first time. Sure, it needed her hungry and tired, and left her more so afterwards, but the weight of Void in her heart felt like home. It felt like a conversation with a good friend, someone you could talk to hours for and not feel the time passing by. It came to her naturally as breathing.
Strand? Strand was all that and more.
Finding the strange essence on Neomuna, and learning it was everywhere, something had awoken in Khalom, no pun intended. She flew on green threads, bore strange little creatures called Threadlings, and wove armour to protect herself. Those days training with Osiris had been eye opening. Letting go, going with the flow, she already embraced that way of thinking. Strand seemed like a natural extension of her personality and thoughts.
And now that there had been a lull, a tense quiet after the Witness invaded the Traveler, Khalom had some down time to see exactly what she could do with it.
"You know that Woven Armour stuff?" She asked. "There's been a few times where, if I'm moving fast enough, I can almost leave it behind? Kind of like a copy of me." She shook her head. "But when I'm trying to do it on purpose, it just collapses into a useless pile of green spaghetti. You had those..." She snapped her fingers, trying to remember what Forgot-Me-Not had told her. "Reflections? I think? I know it's not the same, but, I was wondering if you could help me make this more solid."
no subject
Date: 2023-08-01 06:25 pm (UTC)Returning to teaching since arriving on Neomuna has been a strange experience. Not unpleasant, but... strange, like putting on a set of clothing that has not been worn in a long time.
"Of course," he agrees, and sets aside his book. He stands up to face the young Guardian, listening to her story. Copies... interesting. It makes sense he supposes; he has known that the Light is capable of such for centuries. That the Darkness can do so is not much of a surprise. "Reflections yes, projections of Light. That these collapse when you try to 'do it on purpose' would suggest that your grip is too tight. Too much focus can be detrimental."
no subject
Date: 2023-08-02 07:34 pm (UTC)"Don't tell my Fireteam leader that," Khalom laughed with a shake of her head. "She's always on my ass about paying attention and getting distracted by whatever whatever." Artemis was always dragging Khalom's focus back to the matter at hand, and she was thankful for that honestly. In return, Khalom kept Artemis from getting too buried under her duty. Part of why they made a good match.
"We, uh, might not want to do this here, though," she added, face darkening to a deep purple. "Sometimes it... explodes?" Khalom was glad that the population of Neomuna wasn't around, and that no one was around to be caught in the crossfire. Or see her more embarrassing failures that resulted in her being tangled in a yarn-barf of Strand strings.
no subject
Date: 2023-08-05 06:00 pm (UTC)"I remember your experiences while learning it," Osiris replies. "We can go to the retreat if you prefer." That area is clearer, and probably less likely to cause collateral damage.
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Date: 2023-08-06 01:01 am (UTC)"I much prefer it, yes," she nodded. "Both for my dignity, and as to not cause any damage to these cute lil'guys." She gestured towards a few of the pouka who had begun to fly closer to herself and Osiris. "I don't think I could forgive myself if I hurt em." She brushed her hand along one, which purred in response and followed as Khalom began to walk from the Hall of Heroes.
"Joking aside, I think how Strand works is why I took to it so well," she said, unable to keep herself from filling the silence. "I've never been as good with Arc and Solar, which need a lot of of a guiding hand than I found Void did, and I barely even touched Stasis." She held her hand out and thin green threads briefly became visible. "I'm not that good of a thinker. Rhythm makes more sense to me than patterns." She let the Strands go and glanced back at Osiris. "You can feel them, too, right? Is it different for you? I know even the same Light can work different between Guardians..."
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Date: 2023-08-08 11:29 am (UTC)"I think you may underestimate their survival capabilities," Osiris says. They certainly seem extremely hardy, and more attuned to the weave than humans.
"The elements of the Light seem to be more... chaotic. You must exert your will to avoid them becoming uncontrollable. Even a candle can become a wildfire that devours a forest given enough fuel and freedom." He thinks that need for control had been part of what led to his struggles over recent months, and with Strand. He had never truly been able to 'let go' lest his Light cause incalculable destruction. "Stasis, Strand, they are more ordered, albeit in different ways. From what I have gathered, stasis requires more fine understanding and acceptance of the order and control that you impose on the world and other people. Strand requires the acceptance that you are merely one part of the universe." That you too will be carried along by something greater than yourself.
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Date: 2023-12-23 03:48 am (UTC)"I think I know what you mean," she continued, thinking on what Osiris had said. "Void draws so much from me. If I'm not careful, next thing I know I haven't slept in forty eight hours or haven't eaten in twice as long." Lucid was usually her means to remember to take care of herself, but if she was on a long mission, or really focused on it... "I've never felt like I was exerted my will though. It's more a conversation? Give and take." Void was Light, but it was *weird* Light, from what she understood. Which, of course, technically wasn't much. Khalom hadn't spent much time studying the subject.
"I like that though... accepting my place in this crazy world." She smiled lazily.