( closed ) everyone's a building burning

[heelies]

CHARACTERS: Achilles, Patroclus, Olivia
DATE: After the fire
WARNINGS: Nothing right now
SUMMARY: A little bit of this, a little bit of that.

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[heelies]

[In the sharp cold of the stream, whose waters cut his bones, Patroclus' arms are a gentle buffer, his breath a warm affirmation of the life poured back into the once-empty vessel of his body. As Achilles washes the soot from his dear friend's chest with fingers numb and quaking, his memory pulls back to way that the women had so reverently cleaned Patroclus' flesh in preparation for his pyre; and when his hand passes over that dear head of curls he recalls bearing the weight of it to where all would burn away but for that which no mortal hands can grasp.

He shivers then, but not wholly for the water's chill.]

The savage Deemers seek salvation - such were the words upon their own babbling lips when in the forgotten town of Boneyard Junction our army clashed with theirs. It seems that for the sake of pleasing their false god and earning his favor, they wish to dig down into the belly of the life-giving earth, but why this is so I cannot say. Nor can I say what cause they may have for reducing to cinders the house in which we lately stayed, if truly it is they who have committed this crime.

As for the gods to whom the Qorral are suppliants, I know of only the sun god who over their native land reigns supreme. Perhaps they too suffer the selfsame plight as do we, straying so far from the sight of their gods that their prayers go unheard.

[Even the immortal gods have limits: just as they must abide by the paths that Fate sets before each man, allowing the course of each to unfold as has been decreed, so too might they be contained by borders carved in the blackness between the stars, beyond which even they can neither see nor hear. The kingdoms of gods are wider than those of men, but even these are not without end. For this discomfiting thought he feels small and set astray - thus he leans into Patroclus all the more with hands still carefully working.]

[achaean]

[ He thinks that ALISTAIR ought to host some sort of meeting as he has not yet been privy to attend to one of those, sitting in a war tent around a table making concrete plans. That might have been what the tavern was for, he does not know, but especially since they are from even greater and more diverse lands than all the Danaans were, he questions why they do not have nightly discussions.

It concerns him greatly how they are meant to work as a team but he has not even heard of most of their company, that he is unable to recall one by their face and region, of their fathers, of their famous deeds. How then is he meant to serve with them efficiently? He has no understanding of their capabilities or even of their limitations and possibilities. Against an enemy so well-oiled as the Deemers, so connected, they appear like children attempting to mimic a soldiers' formation.

Heaving a great sigh, he continues to wash the soot of Achilles' body and paying special attention not to tangle his locks. So often had he combed his fingers through it that he did not anticipate the knot of nostalgia unfurling warmly in his heart. ]

Should we not allow them to dig into the Earth if that is what they wish? What concern is it of the Qorral, if it is not their land on which the Deemers work? This planet is no small one, I see not why they should quarrel over this.

[heelies]

[The ends of his golden curls sway close to the water's surface as would the supple limbs of a willow tree. All is as it once was, as Patroclus would remember: for while Achilles had cut the long locks in mourning for his companion, the thread of whose life had been so cruelly cut short, that upon the pyre would burn too a piece of his own body, in the long months that have since passed his hair has grown to reach down his back once more.]

Those of ALASTAIR have declared that should the Deemers pursue their goal a heavy fate shall fall upon this land and all who dwell here. Their counsel proved to be prudent in the land of the Nalawi, and thus I am inclined to take seriously the prophecies they consult.

[His fingers now tremble along the ridge of Patroclus' collarbone and up the strong curve of his neck to wipe at his dusty cheeks.]

It seems that the wild-eyed Qorral and the god-hating Deemers long maintained a truce until just lately. For the politics of this race of men, however, I care little. Although the Qorral seem as strangers to the laws of hospitality that almighty Zeus protects, they have welcomed this company nonetheless, while the Deemers have raised arms against us in thirst for blood upon which to slake their pitiless hearts. Thus it is plain to me where our loyalties ought to lie.

[His hands fall back to his friend's shoulders, and there they lightly squeeze.]

Come now - I fear that a moment more spent in this current, and the extremities of my flesh shall be convinced to float free that they might escape this unwearying cold!