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[ Ezar has enough manna that he doesn't feel immediately hungry for once, and thus he decides to treat himself to something that'll actually make him happy. He heads to the top of the tallest building in Sumarlok, riding the elevator just to preserve ever bit of manna he has for what he's planning.

The wind seemingly generated by every tall building tugs at the sober black, high-collared shirt he's wearing and pulls strands of hair from his braid as he walks across the roof, unerringly to the edge, and then hops onto parapet.

It's a long way down. Ezar smiles to himself, head tilted back toward the sky for a moment as he breathes to taste the wind and feels himself already letting go. He's tired of the ground so solid and unforgiving beneath his feet.

Then, with the grace of a diver, he jumps. ]

[The fact that Summer and Ezar both wind up atop the same tall building in Sumarlok has a very "what were you doing at the devil's sacrament" vibe to it. Obviously it didn't take her long at all to be drawn to the prospect of being so high up, and while theoretically she would've been perfectly content to just hang around up there and admire the city view from the clouds looking downward, that all changes when she's suddenly not alone on the roof.

She doesn't hide, strictly speaking, though she doesn't go out of her way to make herself noticed, either. Quite the contrary, she sort of gravitates to the shadows and stands there beneath the shade of an awning, mostly just getting herself out of the way to watch and observe and see what he does.

(At first blush, she assumes he's coming to brood. Then, as he hops up onto the edge of the parapet, she remembers he said he was a dragoon — though he's not wearing his armor, so what —)

...

Oh.

He hurtles over the edge — yet not with any sort of unhappiness, but with purpose — and in a split-second's time, Summer arrives at her own equally stupid decision.]

Stay here, Ultros —

[She bids her ever-faithful criminal of a mammet, even as she's running for the edge with similar practiced ease and diving off after Ezar.

...She's. Probably got enough of a handle on Amethyst magic to catch herself. Most likely. Yeah. It'll be fine.]

[ Instinct more than anything else has him glance back; he feels that someone's behind him, somehow. Between the wind whipping past and pulling tears from his eyes as he free falls, not yet flying, and the whipping of clothing in hair, he doesn't immediately identify who it is behind him. Because ultimately, it's not that important--the person doesn't have the profile of another dragoon, they don't look like anything else he's fought in aerial combat.

So he laughs, unable to contain his joy in this moment, and turns his attention back toward the rapidly approaching ground. He knows he's not hardly the only amethyst around; if someone else wants to fly, let them do it. He focuses on his own magic, preparing to go from dive to flight, from using the aether he's familiar with to this newer technique. ]

[Later, when reviewing this moment in retrospect, it will probably comfort Summer to identify that it isn't a lack of understanding of Amethyst magic that fails her in this moment; just a lack of Manna supply to properly sustain it. The falling, itself, is familiar, albeit not quite as enjoyable as usual when she's busy focusing both on her diving compatriot and gauging when she needs to start exerting her Amethyst abilities to catch herself in time to stop her freefall. But any leap and fall comes with a given pleasure to it, and as the wind rushes in her face and whips at her hair, she can't help but shriek from the joy of it herself — just like always.

Trouble arises when she sweeps her hands in an arc, drawing on the Amethyst magic she's...sort of practiced and about halfway understands, and for a second there's a push of resistance as she starts to challenge gravity and sweep into an upwards arc, and then —

And then it's as though all the strength goes out of her limbs, and she wobbles once before losing her stance entirely, and her joy turns to a far more eerie gasp and strangled silence as abruptly, she starts to plummet instead of freefall.]

[ Ezar doesn't hear Summer's distress; he can't with the wind howling in his ears. It's the same instinct that had him glance back to see her before, combat reflexes or perhaps some latent empathy that he hasn't managed to entirely quash. Something makes him glance back again, and he sees the distress, the controlled fall becoming something far more dangerous.

The situation requires no further thought. Hidden under his shirt, the line of amethyst down his spine flares into life as he executes an impossible brake and turn in the air, momentarily killing his acceleration so he can catch her in his arms.

Flying by himself, he's done several times now, and it's not so different from a dive on principle. Flying with another person is something he's less certain of. So he holds her to his chest, head tucked under his chin, and curls protectively around her as they resume their fall.

He whispers to himself as he closes his eyes, feeling the air currents, the acceleration and all the other factors changed entirely from his starting jump. But he is a dragoon, and the air is his battlefield. ]

Hold on.

[To her credit, she doesn't just resign herself to her fate when her hold on her Amethyst powers shatters; though the sudden weakness in her limbs startles her, and the rush of wind in her face goes from exciting to threatening in a span of seconds, she's still got a span of time left to do something with her life before she loses it — or so she considers in that split-second of time — and so she might as well make best use of it.

Ice, she decides, is her best bet. Wind would be better, but she's no conjurer and never has been, so what she knows will have to do. If she can make some sort of slope, something to ease her fall and lengthen her descent longways rather than just smacking into the ground head on, then maybe...maybe...

And it's because she's so preoccupied with her own thoughts that she misses the rescue altogether until she's already fallen into someone's hold — until there are arms wrapped around her and a broad expanse of chest for her to press against, and she can't very well reach for her staff and cast now, but it doesn't quite seem as though she's going to need to, not anymore.

It's Ezar. Ezar, the surly Keeper, the one who wanted so desperately to get away from her and insist he wanted nothing more than to be rid of her — it's Ezar who's caught her, who tells her so gently, hold on.

She's not stupid enough to refuse. She clings instead, recognizing salvation where she can get it, and shoves her face against his chest like she's trying to make herself as small and unobtrusive as possible.]

[ As they approach the ground, Ezar realigns aether and manna in harmony, turning flight and fall into the familiar energies of a dragoon's dive. At the last moment he turns to hit the ground feet first, impossibly absorbing all of that force, turning it, and sending them both flying back upward toward where they started.

It's perhaps the highest jump he's ever done, and free once more from the ground, he grins.

They land, shockingly lightly, on the parapet he jumped from.

Perhaps it's because he still doesn't realize who he's got hold of, but he gently pats the head of the woman who still has her face squished into his shirt. He realizes, then, that the woman's a miqo'te--and the red hair looks suspiciously familiar, not to mention the staff she's got across her back, which is threatening to bean him in the head--but he can't quite bring himself to just shove her away.

It's a small, stupid thing, but it feels good to have actually helped someone for once. ]

There. You're all right.

[ He can yell at her for being a dumbass who jumped off a building without knowing how to fly in a minute, once he knows she is actually all right.

And then he'll leave. ]

Edited 2022-06-07 06:08 (UTC)

[As soon as the burden of her own self-preservation has been neatly removed from her shoulders, a fair amount of Summer's attention span frees up for other considerations — like paying attention to what Ezar does as he falls. It's perplexing at first, because after he catches her she's expecting him to swoop or turn or spiral, something to burn off his speed and momentum, but he doesn't. They just plummet, down and down and down, and maybe she'd be more afraid except for the fact that there's no fear whatsoever in Ezar. No hesitation.

And so she waits.

It's after he has them ricocheting back up toward the landing they'd first leapt from that it occurs to her to be jealous, in that way she always is when someone else is better at something than she is. The kind of jealous that makes something inside her go no, me too, me too, and why not? If he can do it, why can't she?

A question for another time, once he sets her down and pats her head and she gradually lets go of his shirt —]

...!

[...And her knees buckle almost instantly from the rush and the failed Manna expenditure besides, sending her collapsing into a dignified heap on the rooftop.]

Oh...that doesn't feel good...

[ He starts reaching for her again, but it's... not a controlled collapse over, exactly, but one where the worst that'll happen to her is a bruised ass and an equally bruised ego, and that's very much not his problem.

He hops down to sit on the parapet so he's not entirely towering over her, his elbows resting on his knees. ]

Yeah, well, don't jump off a fucking building if you don't know how to dive... or fly. Dummy.

[ Yet there's little rancor in the words. He's not really in a mood to yell. At least not yet. He is, however, annoyed at how much manna he burned on that, since what reserve he's got left is probably not enough for the flying he wanted to do, not unless he goes and finds Aerith to hold hands with for a couple hours first.

Though she'll probably find this pretty funny, all things told. Maybe he'll share the story.

...except then she'll probably want to meet Summer. And then they'll become friends, because Aerith makes friends with everyone. For a moment, that also almost sounds like a good idea, because there's nothing funnier than watching Aerith... Aerith at someone who isn't prepared. Except then maybe they really would be friends and... no, BAD because then Summer would know where to find him and make his life hell and start plotting with Aerith and...

He brushes his hands together, trying to clear away that horrifying train of thought. ]

You hurt?

Edited 2022-06-07 20:51 (UTC)

[It takes her about three seconds to decide that no, she does not feel like expending the energy to keep herself upright, thank you very much, and so Summer quickly goes from sitting to sprawled on her back in short order, expending only the willpower strictly necessary to get her staff out of the way before flopping. It's...a strange feeling, she decides, trying to place the sensation buzzing through her body; it's a little bit like feeling faint from hunger and a little bit like aether disruption, and sort of the opposite of holding too much light inside her. That had left her feeling like her body was a cage barely strong enough to keep something horrible in; this feels like she's been hollowed out, scooped empty of something she desperately needs.

It isn't until she hears the sound of her staff clattering clumsily to the rooftop that she realizes her hands are shaking, and her fingers too fumbling to keep their grip.]

Not...hurt, I don't think...

[Just. Just not right. Emptied out. G'raha had mentioned she might not have enough manna yet to sustain her spells. It didn't feel like she'd used too much, but then, she's not exactly used to having limited supplies of potential to draw on, either.]

Just not...

[It doesn't feel right.]

Just tired.

[ He has a very educated guess as to what's going on, and he hates it. Mostly because he spends most of his time at the edge of muscle-shaking manna hunger unless he's been spending the day with Aerith--or engaged in the occasional hookup.

After this escapade, he's feeling rather drained himself, but hells no doesn't even begin to cover it. This woman is already a nightmare. Encouraging her in any way would be idiotic. ]

Probably need manna. You got a friend you can call?

[Oh, seven hells. Yes, yes, she does have a friend she can call. And if she does, then she'll have to explain why she needs manna, and what she did to be out of it in the first place, and she'll never hear the end of it.]

Aye.

[She closes her eyes, hair fanned out beneath her, focusing on breathing like drawing air into her lungs will somehow fix the problem.]

But I. I don't want him to see me like this. So. No.

Well, you'll not feel better unless you give your buddy a call and either fuck him or hold his hand and think nice thoughts, so that's your choice.

[ He shrugs, letting his hands hang loose now. He's ignoring the small tremor in his fingers. He's felt a lot worse. ]

The way this place works is stupid, but it is what it is.

What's the problem with him, anyway?

You're closer. I wouldn't have to move as far.

[FUCK HER YOURSELF YOU COWARD, she implies, as she keeps focusing on breathing and slowly tries to figure out how to convince Ultros to blurble over here and get her communicator out for her without her having to move.]

He'd worry. I was ill recently...well. My recently. Mayhap not his.

[Fortunately, that sounds like the kind of inane babbling that someone might say if they were very exhausted and unfocused, and so hopefully it will just slide past rather than leading to a great big conversation about timelines.]

I don't want to make him worry. S'all.

I'm not gonna fuck you. I'm gay, and it ain't my duty. [ And added as an afterthought, because it's not as if this has actually ever stopped him from fucking anyone, but she doesn't know that. ] And I don't like you.

[ Her excuse is a pretty sad one, in his opinion. ]

He'll worry a lot more if you turn into a fucking rock.

[ Pause, considering. ]

Though it'd sure keep you from jumping off a building like a gods-damn amateur again.

Edited 2022-06-07 23:21 (UTC)

I would set you on fire if I had any feeling in my arms.

[Is that mutual agreement to his remark about not liking her? A retort to being termed an amateur at something she is in fact highly versed in, when there isn't bizarre gemstone magic involved? Who can say, she's sleepy.

A note of tension, however, does enter her tone at that middle part, and after a second she murmurs with more audible concern: ]

Is that what happens? You...turn into stone?

Too fucking bad you've no manna to do it, aye? [ Somehow, the tone is more like teasing than cruelly-meant mockery. ]

That's what all the manuals and shit say. [ He shrugs. ] Haven't done it myself.

You're better off taking the loss and letting your mate yell at you.

Oh. Oh, no. No, no, nonono.

[All right. Okay. She's tired, aye, and Thancred isn't here to nag her about it, and Y'shtola isn't here to nag her about it, and Alisaie isn't here to nag her about it, and — right, just. No one, no one is here to nag her about it, and that means she is free to pretend like she's fine and fake it until she makes it long enough to get back home.

She's done worse. She's stood up when primordial light was tearing her soul apart. She's not even retching, she's felt worse, so she can manage.

It's preferable, anyway, to have something like pain and exhaustion to focus on, instead of the alternative. Instead of letting her thoughts drift to what it looks like when people turn entirely to stone.]

I'm going home.

[And she grits her teeth, making herself roll over though it looks like it pains her to do it, and starts to force herself up onto her hands and knees.]

I'll manage. I've felt worse.

Thal's balls, woman. [ The exasperation he fits into those three words. This is not a level of stubborn stupidity he's willing to accept from anyone but himself. ]

There someone at your home that's gonna help you?

[ Because going home doesn't even make sense otherwise--and then why not call them? He pushes himself off the parapet to grab her arm. If she's going to insist on standing, he's not quite enough of an asshole to want to watch her fall on her face. Even if she is an idiot.

Though why she's being like this when she's admitted to having a mate is really beyond him. Unless... his eyes narrow, voice dropping to a growl. ]

Does your mate beat you or something?

[ Doesn't have to like Summer or not to be unwilling to put up with some male doing that. ]

Oh, I thought you didn't want anything to do with me. Now that's all any of your business?

[She makes a vague motion with her arm like she's either trying to elbow him or pull her sleeve away, but either way, it's barely an effort. She's busy conserving what little energy she has, and besides, every moment he inadvertently supports her is one less moment she has to do it herself. It's only practical.]

Either you care or you don't. Not just when it suits you.

[She tugs again.]

And you've decided you don't, so leave me alone.

[ This is definitely feeding into his theory that her mate is someone he might need to slam against a wall a few times, in an unfriendly way. He bares his teeth. ]

You're my responsibility 'til you're safe or well.

[ He's an asshole, he's terrible at this, but he's not a monster. He's not going to abandon anyone who's in this bad of a way.

His grip tightens slightly; he'll not be shaken off. There's nothing inadvertent about him supporting her. He's very much doing it on purpose. ]

Call your friend, and I'll trouble you no more.

Am I. That sounds an awful lot like a duty to me.

[But she's not tugging on her arm anymore. And she doesn't really like him any more than he seems to like her, frankly, and maybe this is a terrible idea, but it's — convenient. It's the most efficient solution to the problem at hand, however stupid it might be. And it's one that might mean she doesn't have to lose herself in thoughts of people turning to stone anymore, that might mean when she inevitably tells G'raha about this, it's something to laugh about rather than to feel guilty over.]

You could just help me. Tolerate it until I can get by again.

[She lets out a slow, ragged breath.]

It's the fastest way to be rid of me, if you won't let me go as I am.

Aye, as I'm an annoyance and... hah, a convenience for your use. [ There's a hint of bitterness that creeps into his tone. Though really, this is of his own making. He's still more comfortable as a leaning post than as an actual person.

He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing out a frustrated sigh. ]

You're not gonna like synchrony with me, and I don't like doin' it at all. You've better options, from this mate of yours to a fuckin' stranger on the street. Choose one of them.

Do you suppose I'd like it more or less than turning to stone? Do you know what it looks like? I do.

[Though mayhap he has a point, she considers at length. Synchrony with Raha had been...euphoric, in its fashion, and that had really only been the barest surface hint of what she assumes it could be. The joy he'd felt, seeing her again. The relief. The waves of it, how she'd felt them while all the while knowing they weren't really hers, and how that still didn't matter in the slightest.

Happiness. He'd been happy, and it'd worked. And maybe that means Ezar is right. How could something like that be good for them, if right now neither one of them is happy?]

...You liked falling. Before. From the building.

[He'd laughed, hadn't he...? And slowly, almost thoughtfully, she drags her arm out of his hold and turns her hand palm-up in offering.]

Show me how it felt.

[ He gives her a look that communicates eloquently, of course he knows what that looks like, he's been a soldier for ten years and he's seen a lot of shit.

Then she's offering her hand and... he wants to take it, a sudden hunger sharper than his need for manna. It was so much easier before this place, when he'd been alone with no recourse. Every time he has to refuse this step, it's more difficult, his will wearing away to nothing.

His expression shifts, not anger or annoyance or frustration, but sadness and... exhaustion. ]

Please don't do this.

[ With his defenses stripped away, he's nothing at all. ]

Edited 2022-06-08 02:05 (UTC)

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