So I set out across that way to strike them down, to make them pay

[carnagecarnival]

Who| Initiate + Sam & Tony. Initiate + Signless & Psiioniic. 
What| The Initiate has gained some information. It's time to bring plans to fruition. But first he needs people.
Where| A capitol alley bindspot. 
When| After speaking with Sigma, post-arena.
WARNINGS| Language.

He walked out the tower that morning, face bright, hopeful. He walked with body loose, mind mulling over idle simple things, only the barest trace of nerves underneath. He returns different. 

When he comes back his spine is straight, shoulders back, wild hair still long and so cascading down. Each step is measured and his chin is lifted. He looks calm, right up until his fists curled tight and the ways his eyes blaze red.

He reaches them separate, calling them to meet him at different times. There is murder on his face and not a smile to be seen, until he says with all teeth, "He'd like us getting a meet on. MAYBE GET OUR MOTHERFUCKING CHILL REAL NICELIKE. Think as he and we could be about getting better knowing this motherfucking way. PLACE OUTERWAYS WHAT TO BE AT, BROTHER. He'd not be motherfucking late, were he you." He gives the time, and a tense goodbye, all without single chance of speakings otherwise. He would not be placated.

Sam would bring Tony. Signless would bring the Psiioniic. Two separate meetings. Two fail safes.  At least one of them would offer what all he needs. He waits in alley, with graffiti painted bright as to mark their security there. His back is to the wall as he waits for his arrivals, hands opening and closing in want of clubs. Or maybe an enemy. It's been long since he felt like this 

Comments

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Sam lets out a sharp, surprised ‘oof’ when Kurloz suddenly all but chucks himself back at him, losing his balance a little and automatically dropping one hand down to catch himself, but he’s laughing softly almost before he’s done being surprised.

Goddamn but Sam is pretty much fucked, because he’s pretty damn sure there’s not a lot he wouldn’t do to make this kid happy like that again. And considering the road they’ve got ahead of them? He already knows it’s going to be an uphill battle. And yet he’s resettling himself so he can sling both his arms back around Kurloz anyway, holding him just as tight with a stupid grin on his face.

He still won’t touch any of that about Kurloz or his descendants making his kind, because just because Sam isn’t technically practicing doesn’t mean he isn’t religious, and he’s never going to be able to believe that like Kurloz does. That’s not what matters, anyway, what matters is the way it’s getting to Kurloz.

“I’m not too great at letting people look after me if I’m not looking after them, too,” he replies, huffing a soft laugh at that little headbump.

Goddamn is he screwed.

“You could still look out for the world, you know. We could make our own Avengers. I’ll have a bird as a sidekick and you can get a little goat.”

[carnagecarnival]

Fondness is flood through, soothing the wounds he ripped open in little tiny bits what are more than he could ever motherfucking manage by his own. It's not technically so much a rare thing these days, where he's got all so many people all the motherfucking time, but in the span of his life, it still fucking shines.

He beholds the grin on Sam's face, like a laugh contained. It's a warm thing spun all pretty. It helps destroy some of the constant cold that's in his bones.

He grins wryly back. "HEAR THAT. Get on about for that, me."

He doesn't really know if Sam's world is his. He doesn't know if Panem is either. But one of them places was to be, and that mirroring made all for as it was; he was responsible. He had a means and power to protect them, if only he could get his claws in well the fuck enough. Sam preaches purpose samelike.

"OUR OWN AVENGERS?" He repeats, brow going up even as he smiles. "A goat and a motherfucker bird, ain't that to be being a pair most curious." He pauses. "I COULD STAY WITH YOU THEN?" He asks, careful "Like, not just being on your world?" There'd be a lot of adjusting all over again, he's sure.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Sam hasn't thought just about getting home in a while now. He's gotten himself caught up in this war - an easy thing to do, when just about all of the people he cares about are here - and honestly, even if he could get home right now, he probably wouldn't, not without seeing all this through.

But this? This has him thinking about it, as more than just a longterm goal.

"You're kidding me with that question, right?" Sam teases, making a sound somewhere between a snort of amusement and a huff of disbelief. "If you're coming back to my world, hell yeah you're staying with me. That'd be part of the point."

It would be for Sam, anyway. That he wouldn’t have to say goodbye to another person who’d become like family.

[carnagecarnival]

Conversely, he never did give no thought on motherfuckers leaving. All this work and changing himself only to keep others near, and he never even fucking fathomed that others would be apt to go. Not everyone had on fuck all or worse to return to.

He was going to stay here. He didn't know what exactly he'd do, but he was intending to stay. Maybe he'd preach. Keep himself trained of course-- his lifespan was a long one, and seeing only one war in his lifetime was something laughable-- but otherwise live in peace. Whatever that felt like.

Knowing he'd go back if he stays here though? That's not something he wants anything to do with. If going with Sam means he loses less, means he ain't gotta go back, he'll take that whole new mystery.

He laughs again, joyous, and gives one more bump of his head.

Then his grin starts to fade. The child of him gets buried under the sweeps he's put on. He starts to untangle slow and he says, "THANKS." Just once more. "...We still still got a job what to take on care of though. THESE MOTHERFUCKERS... THEY NEED A LEADER. Not this." He swallows, laughs without humor. Then shakily, he starts to rise, worn by all what's gone down. What now? What way is he gonna fall now what ain't the war general? He guesses He'll have to see.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

It's hard, watching that happiness and the little peeks that Sam can see of the kid that Kurloz still is fade away. Harder still that there's not a damn thing he can do about it. This is a war, and Kurloz is a leader. Neither of them can afford to forget that.

So he rises up with him, though he pulls him back in for another quick hug before he lets go.

"Being a leader doesn't mean you gotta be perfect, man. You don't have to be strong all the time, you know? It's okay to break down every once in a while - that's what you've got us for. Don't forget that, okay?"

[carnagecarnival]

The hug puts him off balance and steadies him all the same. He reaches back to hug as well, before finally forcing himself to stand straight. Sometimes he hates being so tall, mostly when he's like this and doesn't feel big enough for his own form, whole enough to move it.

"I'LL TRY." He smiles weakly. "S'what I'm always doing ain't it? WHAT WE'S ALL DOING. Just gotta keep trying."

This was what he was fighting for. For all of them.

So he tells himself, don't forget that, and promises one day, once more, to write it in voodoo over his heart.

He heads unsteady out the alley, into that bright sunlight, and with Sam at his side, he braces for the future.