RP:Everything Is Onyx-ceptable!
Summary: Khitti and Onyx... talk. Sort of.
The Tranquility, Cenril Wharf
It was well after dinner and Khitti was busy in the library, as per usual lately. It wasn’t her magic or her artwork that was taking up the majority of her time today, but instead a book on Lithrydel’s deities. Dhavislaav had had its own pantheon of gods, as most countries did--and some were even very similar or exactly the same--but it was best, and easiest, to learn about them all as they were taught in this realm. Since she was in study mode, she told Brand not to wait up for her and promised to not stay up too late. Sitting in a chair, somewhat curled up, with a cup of hot cocoa and the ‘Rather Large Book of Lithrydelian Deities’ in her lap, she thumbed through it. Skipping the entire section on the Ascendi, she moved on to Arkhen. ‘The diety seems to favor qualities such as selfless sacrifice, generosity, honor, and valor’, she read in silence and pondered why the seven hells he even helped her in the first place. Moving on she discovered: ‘Arkhen is a very forgiving and tolerating god. He believes in the greater good and often offers wisdom to those in need of guidance’. Okay, that made more sense. Khitti continued on, sipping her cocoa every so often, making her way to the next chapter, this one on Cyris, the god of freedom and independence.
The library was near empty at this hour, the perfect place for some quiet study. Candlelight cast the room in warmth, with shadows of indigo filling the spaces in between. A tray of incense sat upon a far corner table, its lazy stream of smoke powerful enough to cloak the entire room with the inviting scent of cinnamon. It undulated toward the ceiling in a steady dance, as it had for hours. And it would for hours more, except for the draft that interrupted it now. The stream was broken and the shadows yawned, stretching and clawing for a few inches of additional space. And then, all at once, the room reverted to its natural state, and a voice spoke from the shadows behind Khitti’s chair. “I feel it is important to clarify: I don’t actually hate you.” Onyx circled round to where Khitti could see them, teacup in one hand and book in another, as if they had been in the room for hours. Perhaps they had.
Khitti, even with her attachment to the shadows, hadn’t taken notice of Onyx at all--it’d become very obvious that they were more adept to such magic than she was. So, if they -had- been there the entire time, well, she hadn’t known it. They finally spoke, and she jumped, nearly spilling her entire cup of that delicious, chocolate drink. “Goddamn it, Onyx.” The redhead sounded a little bit like the undead’s current employer, aka that Brand guy. She recomposed herself with a heavy sigh, and set down her drink so as to prevent further possible mishaps with her cocoa. “And why is it important to clarify this? You’ve made things perfectly clear with the things that you’ve said and done over the past several months since Brand took charge of this ship. And by that I mean, you don’t approve of me, my magic, or the things I choose to do, even when the intentions are good.” There was that whole phrase ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions’, but she was trying to claw her way out of the hell that she, and others, had made for herself, damn it.
Onyx had no visible counter-reaction to startling Khitti. They did, however, settle into the nearest chair, placing their teacup onto the table in between. It was empty but for a ring of crushed tea leaves at its bottom. “Whether I approve or not is of no consequence. I was not given form in order to judge you. You will do as you will, as you have always done -- I merely try to correct your path when it is unwise.”
Khitti felt uneasy the more Onyx continued to speak, “I don’t need correction or to be fixed--I’m not broken.” She tried to say this with as much conviction as she could muster; the look on her face betrayed her thoughts otherwise, however. Despite being made whole again, and her attempts at looking at things in a happier, more positive light, she still had doubts about herself at times and the things she’d done before her death. “You were not given form to judge and yet here you are saying that you endeavor to correct me when necessary. That’s passing judgement, because it’s what -you- perceive as wrong or illogical.” Khitti shifted uncomfortably in her chair, choosing to not make eye contact with Onyx at all.
“Correct your -path-,” Onyx emphasized, “not you as in who you are.” To them, the difference was tremendous. To Khitti, perhaps less so. The undead seemed to consider their words for a long time before speaking further. “Time has made me harsh, I admit. I see the outcomes of an error coming long before the ones committing it are able to. It is as painful to see the same mistakes carried out over and again as it would be to hear the same melody for centuries unending, with only the slightest variations on a theme.” They sighed. “I forget that sometimes experience is the only adequate teacher, because there is so little I have yet to experience.” It was almost an apology, though it lacked any of the words that would make it official.
Khitti was still a little prickly despite Onyx’s attempt at an apology, “I’m sorry that it seems mortals in general disappoint you so because we don’t follow the not-so-obviously perfect path that only you seem to know about. I’m certain I should be thanking all the gods right now for not gracing me with the gift of clairvoyance, in addition to my being human again, because it certainly does seem quite burdensome.” She fell silent for a short time, thinking on the things that had been said so far as well, before finally continuing, “Do you truly have this gift? Or is it just some sort of crazy set of calculations you’re able to come up with in your old age? Because, a lot of times, if someone is clairvoyant, they can see not only the future, but the past as well… and what I’m getting at is, I’m wondering if you can see my past. Because if you can, and you’ve judged me as you have because of the path I’ve chosen in an attempt to make things better for myself, then I want nothing to do with you, Onyx.” If they hadn’t known it before, it was pretty clear now that the way Onyx had been with her when they first met, and now after her memories had returned, had certainly hurt her--she was especially more on edge and guarded now that she was sure things had gone back to normal between them.
“Your past is all but immaterial to the decisions you make in the moment, I’m afraid. It informs you, but it doesn’t dictate how you must act. Life would look much different if it did. And clairvoyance, no. You’d be far closer to the mark with the second question.” Onyx tilted their head, looking at Khitti askance. “You will be a mother before much longer. This much of your path is now laid in stone. Humor me a moment -- how do you intend to discipline your child, if they reach for a hot stove?”
Khitti sometimes, somehow, managed to forget that she was pregnant. It was an easy thing to do right now, being only around two months along. She listened to the question and crossed her arms over her chest, a slight frown creasing her lips, “If they somehow managed to evade my sight, as a child is often wont to do around adults, there’d be no need for discipline--if by discipline you mean punishment that is. The burn they’d receive would be punishment enough. Obviously, I’d explain to them the reason why people don’t touch hot stoves and such, once the burn itself had been dealt with.” She paused for a moment before quickly adding, “Here’s to hoping they take after Brand in the pyromancer department.” Another pause. “Wait, no… that could be bad too.” Sigh. “Wonderful. Something else for me to worry about.”
“I have never parented a child,” Onyx conceded, “not before, and obviously not since becoming undead.” Their lips twitched into a faint frown. “No, not true. I suppose I have, in a sense -- but I have never spawned a child from my own flesh. I digress; my point is, I imagine it is a long path fraught with constant worry. If you wanted to be carefree, having children was the wrong decision.” Their tone was not admonishing, rather lightly genial. In fact, they’d been relatively warm and open since approaching her tonight, to a point even Brand would find jarring. But Khitti might be forgiven for not being receptive to it now. “You say you’d educate your child. That’s fair enough. But what if you are there with only just enough time to intervene? How, then, do you go about it?”
Khitti’s own frown worsened as she considered the inquiry. “I don’t know… Considering how I am with most things, unfortunately, I may be prone to getting upset with them. Not necessarily angry, per se… and not violently, or whatever. It’s hard to describe, but my parents were the same with me as well. I didn’t always understand it right away, but later on after things had calmed down, I was usually reassured of the fact that they weren’t angry with me--usually by my father.” The frown never strayed, and her worry only grew the more she dwelled on this stuff. “Brand might be the same way. I don’t know. We’re both quite alike.” Finally, she fixed her line of sight on Onyx. “Why are you asking me these things? ...Am I really that unfit to be a mother?” If she was, then maybe Brand wouldn’t be a good father either. Maybe all of this -was- a mistake.
“You jump to conclusions rather easily.” Onyx blinked before adjusting their posture to look at the redhead straight on. “No, I have been attempting to drive you toward a point, of course, which you have somehow managed to avoid twice. Perhaps I have steered you poorly.” A pause. “A child reaches for a hot stove -- and you have no time to explain and only enough to -act- to prevent the damage -- what do you do? You slap their hand away, or you shout at them ‘no’ or ‘stop.’ Even if those actions seem abrupt, or it seems that you are angry or upset with them, it is less cruel than standing by and allowing them to experience the pain that could be so easily avoided, is it not? And a good parent does not judge their child for that lack of experience, do they? It is a simple fact, and not a reflection of their character.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t let them touch it, Onyx, if I had the chance,” Khitti’s tone was suddenly sharp, and it was clear that she was offended by the implication that she didn’t know any better with these sorts of things. “But, really, I don’t think it’s your job to try to course-correct me to something else. This concerns only Brand and I. You’re not my parent, you’re not my partner, you’re not family--the majority of the time I don’t even know if I can consider you a friend--so you don’t get the right to try to steer me towards whatever point you think I need steering towards. I really don’t appreciate you meddling where you’ve not been asked to do so. I don’t care how old you are and what you think you’re entitled to, but you’re Brand’s first mate and that’s it.” She got out of her chair finally, taking the book with her, and made her way to the bookshelf she got it from, climbing the ladder just enough to get to the right spot so that she could put it back. She wasn’t done with it, unfortunately, but she wanted to get away from the undead--things were starting to feel like she was talking to a very judgemental brick wall.
Literally and metaphorically, all warmth vanished from the room. Even so, Onyx did not speak for a time, only standing after her. They were as rigid as the unrisen dead, staring, brows pressed together into one solid line. A fist trembled at their side until Onyx clenched it tighter, and then they were still once more. Slowly, the temperature returned, though Onyx’s : uncharacteristic demeanor did not. “There may come a time,” they said at last, “where you understand the full gravity of your words, and you curse yourself for ever speaking them. I, for one, am cursed to hear them. Regardless, I work tirelessly in the hope that such a time will never come for you.” They pivoted away and marched from the room, looking every bit like the child their body portrayed them to be.
Khitti felt that chill in the room and shivered as a result, that frown of hers returning. She stood there on that ladder, staring at the books in front of her until Onyx said what they were going to and left, before she finally climbed down and looked towards the door. The urge to either stay there and read some more or go to bed was there, but she didn’t. Instead, with a heavy sigh, she followed after Onyx--or, at least, went in the direction she thought they might be. How else was she supposed to act after being talked to like that? It seemed like every person she ran into thought she was some varying shade of idiot. Even Brand was like that for a time--now she was starting to wonder if he still thought that. Khitti wondered, as she wandered through the hall of the ship in search of the child-who-was-not-a-child, if this whole conversation went according to Onyx’s calculations, and if it did, why they even bothered in the first place. “Onyx… ?” She called for them, hoping to lessen her chance of failure in finding them--if they even wanted to be found at all.
Onyx had heard Khitti’s call and paid it no heed. Why -had- they made such an attempt at conversation? Such attempts always turned out this way, more or less, and yet they had pursued the option anyway. All because of, what, a moment of sentimentality? Some irrational yearning for connection? How could someone of five thousand years connect with someone of a mere thirty, anyway? The chasm was too vast.
Onyx walked the length of the ship, eventually climbing the ladder to the officer’s hall. Their room lay only a few steps further. Yet so too did the situation room. And the door was cracked; the Captain was in. Onyx slid through the gap and, with a single nod to Brand, settled into their usual work.
Khitti followed along the path she assumed Onyx took, right up to the situation room--Onyx was a workaholic, so it only made sense. It was some time before she got there--the undead was far faster than she wanted to be at the moment--and when she arrived, Onyx was working and it seemed Brand was as well still. She stood in the doorway for a moment, opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. Instead of speaking, Khitti just resumed her sad, pensive stare at Onyx, and then briefly at Brand, before turning around and heading back the way she’d come from. What was the point in bother either of them? It was just going to turn into another argument. Or she was going to jump to conclusions. Or someone was going to insinuate she was stupid again. Or something. Something -always- went wrong.