okteiviakom | Deck of the Cape Rouge, Saturday Morning

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Deck of the Cape Rouge, Saturday Morning

Octavia had been dreaming of many things, this week. Mostly Haven, mostly horror, but many other messy things, too. Sheep and tilling fields and glowing butterflies and a week on a farm (sheepskin blankets and bonedeep exhaustion and a warm voice in her ear talking about what use was fighting at the end of the world?) had featured in jumbled everything of it all, but that was not out of the ordinary enough for Octavia to have really paid it much mind.

(And, well, she always felt drawn to the woods. And particularly when traumatic shit had been going down.)

So this was just any old Saturday morning.

She had a coffee cup in hand when she emerged onto the deck, with faint plans of at least finding some nice stretches to do in a bit that wouldn't irritate her wounds too much. But of course, all that was forgotten when she looked up and saw a young man standing at the edge of the deck, just barely over the gangplank.

The cup fell from her grasp as she stared at him.

[ooc: Opennn.]

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Ilian could have shown up earlier, but, well. There had been things to see in the woods, air to breathe, eventually a sunrise to watch. And not disturbing whatever sleep he hoped Octavia was getting, in the process.

But it was morning, and he was here.

"Ha yun," he said, "Okteivia kom Skaikru."

There had been a chance it wasn't him, somehow, even with how he was dressed, even with how Octavia could see the line of dots tattooed down his forehead from all the way where she was frozen in place.

But then he said that.

And some kind of wounded wail of a noise escaped her, at least halfway, before she managed to clamp a hand over her mouth.

Ilian.

... He'd kind of thought she'd be happy to see him.

Ilian crossed the distance -- well, half of it, coming to a stop still several feet away, because he was unsure how she would react if he got any closer. (This was Octavia, after all. It wasn't like it'd be the first time she stabbed him.)

"Octavia?"

Sorry, no, Octavia was still struggling to breathe.

Still staring at him, gone all pale in the face.

And then Duke was there.

Edited 2023-07-08 16:50 (UTC)

It was a bit later that Lucifer stuck his head out through the hatch-- "Octavia, would you like some more coffee?" --and yelled before looking.

Well, at least Octavia was no longer crying hystericaly (though it would be pretty obvious from her face that she had been). And she and Ilian had also made it over to sit on one of the benches on the deck.

"Chon em bilaik?" he asked her.

"Lucifer," Octavia breathed, as she turned to call out, "Lucifer, I'm -- I'm not alone."

She didn't have better words for it.

(Her cup lay by the hatch, broken.)

Not alone--?

Lucifer blinked as he finished his trek up the hatch, staring at the man sitting at her side for a good five seconds.

"...Would he like coffee?"

Octavia looked to Ilian because... she didn't really know what else to do. (Something about all of this making her feel deeply helpless.

"He would," Ilian said, with a tiny tick of a smile. Mostly just glad this one wasn't trying to shove him around.

"I'll be back with more cups," Lucifer told him.

And disappeared into the galley to get some.

"He's like that," Octavia murmured, after he'd gone again.

"Focused on coffee?" Ilian asked, mostly to tease just a little.

It had enough of the intended effect, making Octavia give a helpless little huff, the faintest uptick of one side of her lips. "Fussy."

"So, mind introducing your guest?" Lucifer asked, once he got back on deck holding - somehow - three cups in one hand and a thermos in the other.

Octavia gave a tiny nod. "This is Ilian kom Trishanakru."

In case the tattoos and the few braids in his hair and the general way he was dressed hadn't yet tipped off where he was from, that surely would, even if Lucifer remembered none of the stories Octavia had told about him.

Ilian raised his hand in a little 'yup, that's me' sort of gesture.

"Right, well, do you take sugar or milk?" Lucifer asked, thrusting a cup out towards him.

He vaguely remembered.

"Both?" Ilian said, faintly amused, as he reached for the cup.

He had neither a concept of what the combination was going to taste like, nor any reason not to overindulge in things.

(Octavia was watching him again, helplessly.)

"Right, I'll be back in a moment," Lucifer said as he poured Ilian's cup. "Octavia, take your cup, please?"

Octavia took it.

"Okay," she said, softly.

Lucifer poured her some coffee.

...and took a moment to give her a quick kiss good morning, before setting his own cup down and vanishing back down the hatch.

Octavia was definitely a little weird and awkward about it. But then he was already gone again. And Ilian was looking at her with something wry in his expression. He gave her a tiny nudge with his elbow. "Tu hodon, hm?"

Octavia looked down at her hands, nodded, shook her head, unable to decide. "Won snogon," she murmured, then nodded towards the hatch, "won niron."

Ilian just nodded. "Yu gada os sonraun in, hir, Okteivia. And even with all the shit in the past week, she couldn't really argue.

"And here we are," Lucifer said brightly, returning once again with sugar and a little thing of coffee milk. "Now please stop making Octavia do that thing with her face."

He held out the sugar.

"I'm not doing a thing with my face," Octavia protested weakly.

Ilian just gave a soft huff as he reached out to get some sugar.

"You are," Lucifer said, pointing at it. "That... overwhelmed by some kind of feeling face."

Good thing Octavia was already feeling self-conscious and awkward even before he said that.

"I can't help it," she muttered, half into her coffee. "Neither can he."

Edited 2023-07-09 10:10 (UTC)

Lucifer sighed, picking up his own coffee and seasoning it with several shakes of his flask. (The milk found its way to the table.)

"Well, is it at least a good feeling?"

Off Octavia's helpless look, Ilian quipped, "You always grill her this much? Never really seemed to work for me."

"Persistence is key," Lucifer said sagely, "Hence why she's here with us."

"I guess I just didn't have enough time."

Yes, of course that was wry. And layered.

"Perhaps," said Lucifer, which for him was downright tactful. A beat. "Octavia, sugar?"

Octavia shook her head. She usually opted for black coffee anyway, and barely remembered about the cup in her hand as it was.

Ilian helped himself to some milk, finally. Then took a careful sip.

He looked impressed.

"Good?" Lucifer inquired, tilting his head.

"Coffee wasn't as much of a thing on the Ground," Octavia murmured.

"Not like this," Ilian agreed. "Does it always taste like this here?"

"No," Lucifer said. "But I would never serve anyone on this boat substandard coffee. Or milk, for that matter."

Ilian nodded. "And it's milk from...?"

"Cows, here," Octavia supplied softly.

"I do have some goat milk if you'd prefer," Lucifer said. "Or oat milk, I suppose."

Ilian shook his head, this time. "No, I like this," he said. "I like tasting new things." A pause. "Not a lot of people get to do that after they've died."

Octavia tried not to heave a helpless sigh.

(But also, she was getting ideas.)

Duke had been up early, for once, finding it hard to sleep and with his meds, finding he actually had energy to burn. So he'd been out and about already, gone for a swim (the cut on his arm was healed enough that it didn't burn in saltwater), and even caught a few fish, which he had in tucked into a cooler to use for dinner later.

He paused on the end of the dock when he saw someone standing by the gangplank, then approached slowly, guard firmly in place.

"Good morning," he said, neutral -- until he saw Octavia, clearly in distress. Then he dropped the cooler and went to shove himself between them. "Get away from her!"

Octavia had been just about to say something, but all she managed was a shaky gasp, and then Duke was already moving.

And then so was Ilian, backing up immediately, both hands held up to show he was not trying to be a threat. "I don't mean her any harm."

He clearly wasn’t a threat anymore, so Duke ignored him, turning to Octavia. “Are you okay? What did he do?”

Octavia was still close to hyperventilating. Faintly shaking, also still staring past Duke at Ilian.

"He's -- that's --"

Well, she'd tried.

“Hey, hey,” Duke said, tugging her in close. “It’s alright. Breathe.” He flicked a glare back at Ilian. The guy wasn’t a physical threat, he was sure — this was Octavia, few people were — but he’d clearly freaked her out. “Just breathe, gona.”

Ilian couldn't really fault him for the glare. He wasn't even supposed to be here, really, and it wasn't like he enjoyed the reaction he was causing.

"Ai laik Ilion kom Trishanakru," he said, "en ai don ste em lukot." He raised his eyebrows at Octavia a little bit. 'Friend' was good, right? Close enough?

She gave a shaky nod against Duke's arm.

Duke couldn’t really claim surprise that this guy spoke Trig — he had a look to him that was clearly reminiscent of Octavia’s when she leaned into her Ground side. But he’d never heard anyone but Octavia speak it before, so surprise was still very much on his face.

“Duke,” he said. “Her snogon.” He rubbed Octavia’s back absently. “How’d you get here?”

"I don't really know," Ilian admitted. "I was... called. So I came."

“Called by who?”

"I don't know," Ilian said with a shrug.

"The island," Octavia said, though her voice cracked a little.

Duke turned his attention back to her. “Hey,” he said again. “Fandom just can’t give you a break, can it.”

Octavia shuddered a little. But, she'd also regained a little more control over her faculties - which meant standing here with Duke holding her like he was, in front of Ilian, was starting to feel a little embarrassing.

She straightened up just a touch.

And murmured, "It can raise the dead."

Oh. Well, that put everything into perspective, then.

Duke loosened his hold on her, but kept an arm around her as he turned towards Ilian. "Sorry. We've, uh. Been through a lot, lately."

In response, Ilian cast a little glance around not just the boat, but both the land on side, the water on the other.

"World's still standing, though."

Something was slowly occurring to Octavia.

Edited 2023-07-08 19:34 (UTC)

"Yeah, weirdly the end of the world isn't the only bad shit that can go down."

Sorry, Ilian. Duke was a little thin on patience right now.

"I'm aware," Ilian said, with an evenness that wasn't not reminiscent of Octavia sometimes.

"He's dead, Duke," Octavia murmured. "And it wasn't the first bad thing that happened to him."

"He's from your world," Duke said by way of agreement.

He was still not exactly giving Ilian his friendliest look.

"And I killed him," Octavia said, oh so quietly.

"You'd promised," Ilian replied, gently. (Again. Yes, she remembered how he'd used that line on him the first time.)

Duke's mouth snapped shut. He hung onto her a little tighter.

There was nothing he could say to that. Nothing at all.

The something that had been working its way to the forefront of Octavia's mind finally clicked, and her eyes were big and sad on Ilian. "But... But how can you be here? What about -- what about your next journey?"

Was it because she'd helped destroy the planet?

Was he trapped?

And Ilian just looked back at her, so gentle, and shook his head. Almost smiled. (Her chest ached.) "Sometimes it just takes spring a little longer to come."

Edited 2023-07-09 15:28 (UTC)

"It's the weekend," Duke told Octavia softly. "You know how this stuff works. He'll probably move on again by Monday."

Octavia wasn't feeling very convinced, now that the dread had set in. She almost argued, too, but then --

Something caught her eye, something silver glinting faintly at Ilian's neck, and she fell quiet, speechless.

Ilian noticed and raised his eyebrows a little, but got no response.

Duke had his eyes firmly on Octavia again now, still rubbing her back.

"I know it's not your usual, but I feel like you could use a drink."

Octavia barely heard him.

She tried to break away from his grasp, now, stepping towards Ilian, her eyes still on his neck.

Ilian, for his part, still had his eyebrows raised, but he didn't move. (Kept making himself as non-thretening as possible.)

Duke let her pull away, though he stayed ready to move if it looked like something might upset her more.

That was really a question of what he registered as 'more upset'. Because Octavia looked pretty shaky as she stepped up to Ilian, and reached up for --

Yes.

Yes, it was a necklace, with a tiny silver pendant in the shape of a dove, etched with even tinier Japanese on one side. Hers, the one she'd been wearing constantly before the Ground had yanked her back.

Her inhale was shuddery.

Ilian just watched her, with that small, gentle smile, and whispered, "'Gon daunde yu don sin raun ai.'"

Yeah, this was just putting Duke more and more on edge.

“Tavi?” He asked quietly.

He knew she could handle herself physically, but he wasn’t sure either of them could handle much more heaped on her mentally.

"I..." Octavia tried, on another shuddery breath, but didn't seem to get anywhere.

"She left this with me," Ilian put in, once it became clear she was swallowing back tears. "After I died."

Duke frowned faintly, trying to see what it was without invading their space. (Their space. The idea that Octavia had left him something after killing him was definitely leading him more towards 'this guy is okay' territory. For all that his presence seemed to be torturing her.

(He'd probably be about the same if Wade suddenly showed up, after all.)

". . . Guess you really can take it with you."

None of that was going to stop him from snarking, though.

Ilian shrugged a little. Smiled, but faintly.

"It seemed important."

Octavia was holding back tears again.

Duke was starting to feel awkward as the adrenaline faded from his system.

"Do you -- you want me to leave you two alone for a bit?"

He'd still hover, just . . . out of direct sight.

Octavia drew a noisy breath. Unsteady, and yet --

"Maybe," she admitted.

"Okay." Duke reached out to brush his hand over her shoulders. "I won't be far. Shout if you need me."

"Okay," Octavia murmured, managing to bring her hand up to briefly brush against his.

Her eyes stayed on Ilian, though, even then. Like maybe he'd disappear if she let him out of her sight.

Duke noticed. Tried not to take it personally. (Failed, at least a little.)

He grabbed the ladder leading to the wheelhouse and quickly scaled up it, ducking inside where he could be out of the way, but still within easy yelling distance.

Tried to remember what she may have said to him about Ilian, but couldn't concentrate well enough to bring anything to mind.

And out on the deck, Octavia just --

Collapsed into Ilian, a little too heavy to really be a hug. Exactly heavy enough to be almost a decade of guilt.

She would be at the clinging for a while, and Ilian would let her, saying calm, quiet things near her ear.

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Deck of the Cape Rouge, Saturday Morning

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