Kyle Keaton's Story

Haru wasn’t sure how to respond to the prospect of “being saved” by an overpowered arsonist—to sharing a drink with a man who nearly killed his charges and destroyed the livelihood of his best friend. And for every stroke of ease that oozed from Amber’s gestures: The gesture to a seat, the casual pouring of the drink, Haru responded with rigidity, tension and apprehension.
“It’s not just you, you know,” Amber said clearly through the rim of his glass. Haru could tell that, in some life, Amber was an actor. Or at the very least had the makings of an actor. It was in his poise, the diction of the way he spoke, the fact that he was convincing enough to make Haru give him the time of day.
“You and your warriors—you don’t know what you’re fighting for. If you continue this path you will undoubtedly be crushed. And I can’t guarantee me and my people will be the culprits.”
“Elaborate?”
“I cannot go into further detail. I’m bound.”
“And how am I supposed to take your word?”
“By just taking it,” Amber paused, swishing the alcohol in his glass once more. “If I didn’t want to give you fair warning we would have eliminated your people a long time ago. I’m not telling you anything else.”
Haru frowned. This was a rare opportunity to press Amber for vital information. He downed his first shot and set it on the table next to its mother bottle.
“I’m sure you aren’t bound from a bit of fun. How about a game?”
“A game?”
“Yes. Let’s see who can chug the most whiskey… For a bet. If you win the month warriors will surrender themselves to whatever cause your group is fighting for. If I win I get more information.”
“Haru Karokav… That’s irresponsible,” Amber said unflinchingly.
Haru knew. And he also knew it was irresponsible to make bets he wouldn’t be following up on. But with everything that happened tonight, the guardian was willing to turn every rock in a forest of troubles just to find something of value.
“Are you going to do this or not?” Haru asked.
Amber simmered in the moment for a while before he picked up the bottle and eyed its label—it was a particularly strong and heavy liquor straight from the Isles. And without hesitation the fire man threw his head back and let the burning liquid fall down his throat for a decent amount of time before it welled up and Amber flinched forward trying the keep the liquid from exiting through his nose.
Haru eyed the bottle. Amber drank a significant amount, almost half, of the strong brew. And both men knew that if Haru fared any chance at winning the bet he was going to have to finish the bottle. And so he did. And moments later his small body was consumed and he was struggling to stay awake. Wavering and recalling questions he’d pondered about Amber for months. His questions were more cohesive in the beginning—but of course as time went on he became more incoherent:
“Your group has supernatural abilities beyond basic magic. Abilities that are comparable to those of the month warriors….”
“We orphans—we have a lot more in common with you warriors than you think.”
“Orphans…” Haru said pensively.
Amber looked up, a look of surprise briefly flashing across his face. “Did I not introduce us as such the night of the fire? Perhaps you were too shaken to pay that much attention.”
Haru grunted, “What do you orphans want, anyway?”
“To preserve the Aires we know today—”
“Full of cyclopean? Are you works of oblivion?”
“I cannot answer that, I’m bound.”
“Are you enemies of the Goddess?”
“I cannot answer.”
Haru was beginning to feel like he wasn’t going to get anything else from this fiery tormentor.
“I cannot tell you these things. But I can tell you where to find the answers. Listen carefully and consider this my last olive branch…”
Haru leaned forward. Trying his best to focus in his drunken stupor. This was it. This is what he was waiting for.
It was so much information crunched into so little word. Haru was overtaken by his thoughts as Amber described a giant crack in the ground and a dreamscape. A glowing book of truth at the core of the planet—an alternate reality full of the most cursed Arian horrors and Arian apocrypha.
“Just remember. You knowledge of this book alone will not keep us away. Our ultimate goal is to eliminate the month warriors and I will give you no head starts. From this day on we will be active in our attempts. And it would be in your best interest to find the truth and make sure your warriors use the truth wisely before we find them first. Only then can we exist in harmony.”
And Amber was done speaking. When Haru looked over he was met with a mound of ashes.
He grunted once more and his head lulled back as he fell into a drunken slumber, destined for a hangover.
There was no denying the crying and Tallyho had to own it as best she could. Dorian’s presence helped. He rubbed familiar circles on her back and Tallyho was reminded that she’d often considered Dorian…a circular kind of person. Circles were stable and smoothed. Filled with an essence of calmness.
But the Tallyho who truly knew Dorian knew that this wasn’t the case. Much of the group saw Dorian as a communal rock when he was really as fragile as anyone else could be. Tallyho then felt guilty being so emotional at that moment when Dorian had been in the fray of it too. And much of the fray was because of her.
Tallyho pulled back and reached for Dorian’s injured hand gently squeezing his fingers.
“I’m sorry,” she said. She wanted to cosign that apology from so many others—including Harper—but she was well aware that she could only speak for herself.
Looking at Dorian, Tallyho felt a lump in her throat that had never quite settled before. She studied his features more carefully than she had before—he was handsome both physically and in his demeanor. A day before she would have stared at Dorian for 10 straight minutes without a flinch—without thinking much of it at all (and even making fun of him)— but now she felt herself passing more discrete glances in quick and quiet pulses, hiding behind a flush of rose.
She didn’t think that her first experience feeling for another human in this way would be so matter-of-fact, curt and blunt. The girls in her caravan handled their crushes with carefree giddiness. They saw someone they barely knew but thought was cute and exhausted what little feeling they really had for the boy in a week-long burst of obsession before allowing his memory to fade into the obscurity of their childhoods.
Tallyho didn’t argue with herself as to whether or not she felt affection for Dorian. In that moment she recognized this and owned it.
And she figured she would have been able to say it—that’s how straightforward their friendship was, after all—But for some reason she couldn’t dig the words from the pit of her voice box. So she sat staring at him, gripping his hand in a daze of stupor. A seizure, in her opinion, would have been a better placeholder.
And then Kyle came in. Tallyho still had tears in her eyes but she didn’t wipe them. Kyle seemed to be particularly concerned about offending Tallyho and this was extremely apparent. There was no point in Tallyho being so guarded with situation—the blonde had already offered a part of herself to Dorian so there were no excuses for withholding herself from an innocent perosn trying to offer friendship.
“Kyle… You’re fine,” she said as she extended her hand with a firm handshake in mind.
Morgan was having a grand time at the party and she owed the night to Mori and Karma. Though Karma was defiant when it came to learning how to waltz like a proper lady, she still appreciated the company and found Karma’s quips witty and humorous. After a while she gave up trying to teach the kids to dance and led the way to a table of fantastic horderves and sweets.
They were soon approached by Falke who seemed to Morgan like a very kind man. The first few times seeing him after they first met threw her for a loop because she wasn’t sure if he was truly blind of not. He seemed to move freely and she didn’t want to assume.
“Hello Falke, how are you? Would you like to dance?” She chirped, voice shaking with energy.

Kyle gave a weary smile when Tallyho reached out to him. That was all he wanted. He didn't expect to be best friends right away, if at all. He attempted to wipe his sweaty palms with the similarly sweaty cravat tie and stuffed it in a pocket. Then he too moved toward her. For a time he debated whether to kiss her hand like he did with Dae or shake it. Eventually he wiped his sweaty hands again and shook hers. She might not be comfortable with a more intimate gesture, and there was also Dorian to consider. The April warrior knew he could be no threat to a relationship between two of his teachers, and they also knew his weaknesses. His peers, they were a different story. Besides, he didn't want to give Dorian a reason to be upset with him, especially after all the mess he already submitted him to. "Thank you."

After the announcement party, they finally seemed to have a reprieve, and Kyle took full advantage of it. He set himself personal goals to resolve all the issues he caused during the fiasco, but he doubted his success in meeting those goals. The group seemed more splintered than before and weird things were happening that spooked him, but he refused to give up. One of his few virtues, determination.

That determination also helped him in other ways. He found multiple exits to the palace and escaped all the fake people for hours at a time, either in the city proper or the garden. The garden was an excellent forum for him to strengthen his skills, and actually interact with 'real' people. People that didn't pretend to like you because you were famous. Truthfully, he hated being famous.

Nikita discovered the problem soon enough when she found Haru passed out drunk. She knew he had a smoking problem, but she didn't remember a drinking problem. Biting her lip, she realized that perhaps the recent pressure pushed him to drink. She called for assistance to carry him to his room, because she was both shorter and lighter than Haru, and knew she couldn't hold him on her own.

A week later, the man himself knocked on her door and asked her to come to a meeting during lunch. Hastened by both concern for his health and curiosity, she was happy to oblige. She prepared for the meeting as much as possible, well before the appointed time. When she heard the message, she forced herself to hold her tongue. She wasn't Haru's mother to harangue him about the stupidity of going in front of government agents and enemies by himself, but it did validate her concern for his health.

"The problem is, I don't think we can trust either of these parties we're now tangled up in. Amber and his supernatural warriors destroyed the Academy, yet didn't physically harm our warriors when they were weak and logically would be in his best interest." She grimaced against how cold she sounded. "And the government agents here pretty much tied our hands with their demands of accompaniment. If anything happens to the accompanying party, we'll get the blame, and end up back in the dungeon." She shuddered at the word. "Honestly, I think it's in OUR best interest to target Amber directly, not even this book whether it exists or not. Chasing the book should draw the threat away from major cities and reduce civilian casualties at least. That doesn't resolve the issue of nosy government officials though." Crossing her arms over her chest, she dropped her head and frowned. It sounded like they were damned if they do, damned if they don't.

Their choices so far seemed to be chasing after phantoms and myths, or hiding out and waiting until the hammer blow came down on them, since her suggestion to go after this apparent copycat warrior was shot down by everyone who had yet spoken. Nikita wrinkled her nose, she just couldn't stand either of those choices. The rate of failure was too high. There was no solid proof of this book or Great Escape and just waiting around for their enemy to strike was a 100% bad idea.

Ve Marie was a major city, which she knew had a higher population than Ryou's Academy could ever hold. She wasn't there for the actual attack; and since the only people she took on her ship from the ruins were the warriors and guardians and only four of Ryou's other students, she assumed the rest were dead. That itself was enough to make her wary of him. He wiped out over 100 young lives just to get to the warriors in the first place. How much of the city would he burn to reach them again?

In frustration, she raked her thin, callused fingers through dark hair. "We can't stay in the city," the small sailor woman finally said. "I may be getting soft in my old age, but the cost of innocent lives is much too high to risk staying." She stood up and started pacing the back of the room, unable to remain still. "We can't stay, but we don't have any proof of this book."

Kyle was also frustrated but for a different reason. He was one of those people chasing Falke during the week, but the other blond boy always ran away from him. What did he do wrong? Why didn't he want to talk to him?

With a grunt, he released another arrow and struck his target for the day with a satisfying thump. His accuracy was definitely getting better. Now he just needed that accuracy when facing a moving target. Unfortunately, Kyle didn't have many willing partners to help with his training regime, but that wasn't what he wanted to talk to Falke about. He grumbled under his breath and went to retrieve his arrows. Afterward he went back to his room and put it away.

On his bed stand that checklist mocked him. Kyle covered it up and ordered a fish sandwich from the kitchen. Because he didn't want to deal with any extra attention from the royals and nobles, he slipped back out in the garden to eat. While he was out there, he noticed two blond heads near a bench. Falke and Tallyho!

Uh oh! Nikita stopped her pacing and dropped her hands to her sides. She still didn't trust Amber, but sharp-edged words from Ryou in particular were a bigger problem, or another in their ever-growing list. The shorter woman glanced at Kit, the first to make that observation. She nodded to Haru's seemingly abrupt stop in the discussion, accepting she was outvoted, and then immediately turned her attention to Haru and Ryou. A few moments after they both left, she followed. She had been worried about them all week and wouldn't stop now.

She found them both, obviously agitated and sitting on Ryou's bed. Uh oh! She thought again as Ryou snapped out, "What do you want?" Haru responded like he was expecting trouble, which as far as she was concerned, was a pretty fair assessment. Ryou didn't have Kyle's temper problems, which is another reason to be concerned for him. He must be worn down as much as Haru. For a little while, she debated simply walking away down the hall back to her own room, but she decided to stay for as much curiosity as emotional support for the two men. She didn't enter the room completely though. She leaned against the door and announced her presence to be fair. "I'm just here in case I have to play referee."

Kyle started when Tallyho called back to him. He didn't think she could have seen him, but she was obviously more attentive to her environment then he was. He stiffly swallowed the latest bite of his sandwich, but nodded whether she could see him or not, and scrambled to his feet. "Um...Do you like fish?" He cautiously asked both Falke and Tallyho. He didn't really expect that his one sandwich was enough for all three of them but thought it polite to offer. If neither one said anything about it, he would finish the sandwich as quickly as possible.

As it was, he still had to scramble to keep up, and probably wasn't as good at hiding as Tallyho. Falke seemed to be keeping his feet better than Kyle, and another question he wanted to ask the September warrior popped into his head. How did he do it?

While they weaved through the alleyways and marketplace, Kyle kept most of his thoughts to himself. After they arrived and the Sun People finished their initial cautious observations, they surrounded Tallyho and he heard her crying, but he couldn't get through the press of curly blond heads and bodies. An ache started inside his own chest, and he fell down to a rough bench. This is her family. Her family. Her home. She's the only one of all of the month warriors who could go home if she wanted. Home. Family. Kyle covered his face, as a rush of memories from his own home and family threatened to swallow him alive. Dammit! Haru was more right than he realized when he told Tallyho to open up; those words weren't just for Tallyho. Kyle has been keeping many things to himself too, but what could telling everyone about his family do?

Falke responded to her huff of faux frustration and mild amusement, with a sharp, you-know-what-I-meant look glinting in his gaze, before reluctantly snorting in acquiesce. As she took a few steps backwards, he began cautiously shoving himself upright off the bench. He caught his balance easily enough, but his senses hadn’t obviously…

As Tallyho noticed herself a new presence over her shoulder and spoke out to… Him. Falke’s eyes widened noticeably as he focused far more acutely than his bleary gaze usually could do or ever did, on the near presence of Kyle, that he hadn’t been aware of during the relative distraction Tallyho had accidently provided. Throughout the week, Falke had been avoiding every one of the group proper – from month warriors, to guardians, to the Academy quad (with the exception of Mori, and Karma, when they were humoring Princess Morgan at times) – and Kyle, goddess be dammed…

He was one of the few that would not leave well enough alone and give Falke the space he’d downright needed away from the group. And while the shorter warrior had certainly put him through an overtime ringer avoiding him especially, it had been surprisingly easy feat. The more the other thought, and mulled, and questioned; the easier and further away he could always be, by the time he felt him coming.

You know what. fei… So be it, if Tallyho invited Kyle on their adventure, sure, he was welcome to follow along. But at the very least, he could be confident, he could avoid an unwanted gesture or touch of Kyle’s endearing attention for a while longer. And, it had been a week, maybe he should try and open up a little more? Perhaps?

Saved from having to mull it over any longer, the sharp attentiveness he regarded Kyle flashed away to Tallyho as she’d started walking down the walkway – not even alerting him, except for a quick, abrupt nudge at his leg. The brief touch was enough to give him the faint sense of vertigo, and a pale flush across his high cheekbones; already attached to her mind as it was, it broadened the connection enough for her to feel probably a touch of his wearily reluctant amusement at the whole situation, and maybe perhaps a smidgen of his lackluster acceptance that trying to keep out of people’s mental auras and ‘trash’ was never going to work in the long run…

"Um...Do you like fish?"

Falke shook his head in the negative even with his eyes still trained in Tallyho’s direction, leaving Kyle to finish his sandwich and walk at the tail, before setting off at an easy gait. His long legs catching up well enough to Tallyho’s heels, even with the occasional gimp as the sour muscles strained.

The walk wasn’t too terribly long, and it was a blessed surprise to not hear ‘oh, look, the blind babe’ or ‘the icy invalid’ or some other horrid combination of either or something completely new and still completely wrong to call someone with a supposed ‘status’ now, or anybody really. He had kept his eyes averted toward the ground and turned his head purposefully away from the awareness anyone that happened to look a little too hard at the trio. He followed Tallyho’s movements, keeping his feet underneath him even in the busier alleyways or crossroads, and kept from bumping into others within the crowd.

He was further at ease as they finally reached the city walls, and the crowd’s pressure around them eased. It was like taking in a breath of fresh air, he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. They had avoided unwanted attention, and started to come up to the caravan proper – with the sound of whiskery horse breaths, and thick curtains of a covered wagon flapping in the wind, came tickling his own ears. Tallyho finally rasped, voiced cracking slightly, ”We’re here.”
It wasn’t long before the caravan’s comforting, easy quiet was interrupted by a small exclamation of a young child sounded off from behind a wagon, “Maaa!” And after a paused, full of pregnant anticipation, a woman’s voice, possibly the mother of the child, called out herself, “Dene! Dene, Dene come quick!” And more faces and minds came awake and alive, emerging from the backs of wagons and gasping in delight, excitement, and pure joy – not at seeing them humble month warriors coming to see them, but at Tallyho, a champion of their people.

Gladly Falke let him near Tallyho’s shoulder be pushed out of the swelling crowd, hugging Tallyho if they could, and if they couldn’t – they then begin latching unto someone else who could, and others held unto that someone, and on, and on… Calls of getting ‘Yagi’ and scattered of children echoed around him, but he stayed firm, and watched in appreciative patience, if not wonder.

Tallyho deserved this recognition! And being with her family, well it was an honor to be asked along for this little adventure; even paling as he was from the emotional backlash and tears prickling the corner of his own eyes in response, he kept himself from crying and remained a strong and steady mental presence for the February warrior to latch unto if she so choose. But knowing Tallyho, Falke (and Kyle) just being there, would be enough for her comfort if it came down to it.

Kyle on the other hand, goddess above… The other had crashed unto a nearby, rough wooden bench. Emotionally breaking down. Something about, Home? Family? Tallyho’s, or his own? Fei! Was it really the time to have an emotional breakdown to begin with? Perhaps Falke was only sprouting out thorns where his softest pieces used to be. Hell, he knew he was making friends out of their group’s demons, let along just his own. And while they could be laughing and swapping stories and causing fractures of faith or sanity or Goddess forbid what else – he choked on the smoke left over. There wasn’t nothing wrong with it technically? Some days the demons made better listeners than the angels. But dammit, he was already emotionally high strung with Tallyho’s conscience at his grasp, and Kyle needed to get a grip…

/Enough,/ He touched the edges of Kyle’s mental storm, willing the words to be heard clearly and their serious intentions even through the unsteady tremor in his tunneled out tone of voice. He hadn’t done this in a while, to be honest. /Your world is always going to be complete all on your own, but it’s a lot brighter and enticing when you’re willing to open up and share it with someone else. It’s true that you don’t have to keep all your secrets to yourself. But… Now is not the time, Kyle./ And with that, Falke abruptly withdrew. Hoping the years spent being Kyle’s common sense guidance at time would win through, and the other would come to his senses and grip the reality surrounding them. It was not his time, it was Tallyho’s.

Falke remained straight-faced, and at ease on the surface of his appearance; as he calmly watched the display of affection surrounding Tallyho, as if Kyle hadn’t ever bothered him in the first place. Waiting for this Yagi to appear that they had cried for to see Tallyho, before they engulfed her.

Falke was relieved that Kyle seemed to get control of himself, just in time as the congregation of sun people surrounding and embracing Tallyho slowly but surely parted away into a path carved for the Yagi. Tallyho had never let much on about her people (or the Yagi for that matter), and save for the knowledge of original lyrical song she’d learned from Lillian and dance she’d shared with him a month or so on that boat rolling over the sea o’ so long ago it seemed. He had never asked or considered pushing frankly with his abilities for more. If the time came whenever, if ever, she had, Falke would have listened as it came, no more, no less.

But now… Connected as they were through his gift, he could feel Tallyho’s swelling emotions and swirling thoughts of the public figure of the her community and caravans’ structure, and Falke understood better who this Yagi was to her and the sun people at large. An older woman, with a slight, made frail by age only, frame, glowing, golden-white haired; but of a strong attitude and solid movement, she was chosen leadership. Someone so big and beyond everything seemingly, but homely enough and deeply involved in the betterment of her people at hand.

”We will celebrate, Come to me my children.”

Falke heard dimly over surge of the crowd’s sudden emotional excitement pressing against his temples, even over the natural awe that seemed to felt my all, of Tallyho, a literal month warrior, coming to visit. And quickly realized as Kyle started forward and the abrupt pathway through the crowd opening in front of them, the Yagi had called. They came.

Her kisses at both of his cheeks were soft, cold, and burned. Falke had no control over the flashes of memories that wasn’t his own hitting him hard, at the Yagi’s light touch of reverence and welcome. But at the very least, had hidden well from obvious sight and uneasily blocked from Tallyho’s own mind, so he hoped, the aching surge of homesickness in his core – that the sensation brought of his own, older, mother a long, long away.

As they waited for a celebration tent to be set up, last minute alcohol choices, and songs’ and dances to be decided – to celebrate Tallyho, who more than deserved their attention. They were invited to Yagi’s tent, to sit in calm, comfortable but meditative silence.

During the rest of the night, Falke had enough presence of mind to avoid the few bottles of alcohol circulating the party, or hand it onto to the next person if it had come to him. His mind was already drunk enough from being there, but felt more natural (than parties they’d attended recently with TRK), enough that he seemed to have found a peace with the mental audio going on around him – and not once did a pale flush, or pained wince, find a spot on his face, regarding his abilities. And with the prospect of the long walk back tonight to the castle proper, after far too many dances after they’d realized he surprisingly knew some of their dances (thanks to Tallyho’s flower-child esque dragging him around months before), his leg was a little beyond sore. Drinking, wouldn’t have been a bright thing to do at all given the exhaustion he currently felt.

"Your hair is pretty. Why do you cover it up?"

Kyle on the other hand, was drunk from the sun people’s festivities. Granted the other warrior was a rather happy drunk, and he was always one for asking too many questions. But all the same still drunk, as the lack of tact was apparent in the wording of his questions; and more so, as he reached forward to Tallyho, twirling a flower he’d just plucked from a nearby wall into her golden curls. Falke spared her a silent, but meaningful glance, which bluntly said she didn’t need to explain it now if she didn’t want to. One, it wasn’t certain Kyle would even really remember it or not (it wasn’t that he was that drunk, but 50-50 shot here one could only assume); and next, after years of having his clothes – specifically well-worn shirts, most of the time – stolen by her to wrap or hide her hair up, whenever the need arose to get into a more public place than even the walls within the Academy had offered, he had let it occur without ever asking for a reason why.

"Your hair is pretty. Why do you cover it up?"

Tallyho found herself instinctively shrinking, like a disinterested cat, away from the sudden reach in her direction. And even realizing that it was Kyle didn’t soothe her reluctance to be touched. When the flower was lodged into her hair she snatched her fingers through, gripping its stem in the curl of her fingers before unfurling them into an open palm and, in a firm motion, she thrusted the flowered hand against Kyle’s chest.

She got that he was trying to be nice and all, but somewhere Tallyho felt that a boundary was crossed. It wasn’t just the fact that she didn’t feel like explaining why sun people had to be so reclusive, but she felt that Kyle’s approach was mildly suggestive. And she didn’t feel so wrong about coming to that conclusion as Falke’s glances offered some solidarity.

If Dorian were there—well maybe that wasn’t the best threat… Maybe an outsider could perceive things differently, but Tallyho couldn’t think of a time where anything she and Dorian did WASN’T considered platonic, at least between the two of them. Even as Tallyho has gradually considered the possibilities of a more romantic outlook on their relationship, the twenty-something March Warrior hadn’t necessarily done or said anything to disrupt their usual routine—anything that would suggest he could possibly see her in a different light.
And with Trent around… Well there didn’t seem to be much time for those sorts of thoughts to be imagined.

Tallyho had been frozen this way for a few moments: right hand firmly pushed against Kyle’s torso, free hand clenched into a fist and her right leg bent into a lunge. She leaned against the other blonde like he was a brick wall. The brief fire Kyle had ignited in her little body died out quicker than she would have imagined. She didn’t want to explain her hair, but now there was really no point at blowing up at him about touching it. She was supposed to be putting more effort into her relationships with other warriors.

With a long exhale Tallyho pivoted off of Kyle, her hand freeing the crumpled flower pinned between her palm and his shirt.

“I don’t want to talk about it tonight,” she kept her response clear and dry. Then she looked to Falke with a slight nod, almost apologizing for any sensations he might have experienced today and the fact that she didn’t want to stay around to make sure tipsy Kyle got back to his room. But in her head she swore that she’d make it up to the September warrior.
“Night,” she said as she meandered toward the courtyard entrance.

(Time skip post wasn’t this but I’m really wanting it to come soon…)

Falke remained respectfully silent through the entirety of the tensed and coiled moment between Tallyho, Kyle, and the crumpled wall daisy; but it would be in a fool’s eye to assume he stood there doing nothing.

Physically certainly. It was not that he’d generally expected Kyle to be so brash or mildly suggestive when tipsy, nor that the feeling in his gut that Tallyho would not react quite nearly as viciously as she could have been allowed (and given to do so, as long as he’d known her and they’d spent together so far), that halted his movements; but, simply, physical gestures, more than a gentle, solidarity glance, was not needed.

Mentally, however, he pulled himself back from Tallyho, and her wandering thoughts regarding the situation (that Dorian’s name popped up, before he’d completely removed himself), and Kyle too, with all his bubbling confusion and the sheet honeyed alcohol brought over his senses.

“Good night,” Falke echoed softly after the February warrior, with the barest edge to his tone that her ladyship ‘snobskirt the fifth’ owed him, after this. As he glanced down towards the, goddess above, giggly Kyle that had also well wished Tallyho off, but now seemed to be singing some silly song about adventure, with a well-hidden grimace.

…

With the last cascade of stairs ahead of them, Falke had honestly not been certain he was going to get the April warrior to walk up them to begin with, let alone make sure he found his own room for the night. But thankfully, Kyle had miraculously had enough presence of mind left in him to save the September warrior to trouble of having the ‘tipsy-sit’, and had made to his own room just in time.

And with that matter finally settled, Falke made it back to his own private room down and across the hall, and sat in exhaustion at the foot of his bed. “Oof…” He muttered bitterly to himself, and to his own inner monologue; as one hand raised to idly rub circles at his temple, while the other bent to rub in an up and down fashion on his straining calve muscles – as a means of some sort of relief, from physical and mental, ailment and just plain soreness.

It was about that time, wasn’t it? It had been week already, and no matter how much he distracted himself, it always felt a little chilly inside, because there was something missing. He had attempted to fight his powers, retain his bloody sanity, and find something else to fill it before; and the more he tried, the more he failed. It was time to accept it as a part of himself, and that it was okay to make a truce out of his (and everyone else’s as well, conveniently) demons.

Fei... Thank the Goddess, Tallyho had granted the opportunity for a small refresher course.