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“Sorry, what did you just say?” Saparata questioned suddenly, cutting into the middle of Cass’ sentence.
He didn’t usually do that, not when he wasn’t actively trying to tone down an argument in a meeting, but he had to make sure he heard everything correctly just now.
“Ish is reviving everyone! You know, since it's the last day. It sounds crazy when I say it, but… I’m serious! Everyone is talking about it right now— I swear I saw people who I thought should be dead around Harbourbloom,” Cass explained as quickly as she could, seemingly trying to hurry to actually go confirm the news with someone trusted more informed than the two of them. Saparata doesn’t listen to the latter part of the explanation.
If that God was bringing people back from the dead then that meant one thing in particular for Saps.
He didn’t hesitate to turn right on his heels and start running off, ignoring any calls that Cass shouts behind him in confusion.
If what the other said was true, then he would have been brought back as well.
Quite frankly it didn’t sound good in a general sense, considering everything that led up to his grand fall and death, but more specifically for Saparata as well. He’d killed the man with his own hands - slaughtered the person he once trusted most because of all the pain and agony so many people had to endure because of that one noiret.
He thought about seeing Fluixon more than thirty times that week alone, but to actually think there was a real potential of seeing his former friend alive was an idea he didn’t know what to do with, or how to even begin to process it. Should he have been glad? Angry? Spiteful? Seeking revenge? Maybe he should have make a run for it instead.
Most importantly however, he had to make sure that the grave he himself made remained untouched - like the corpse residing within it hadn’t suddenly decided to crawl its way out from underneath the dirt.
Clearly it hadn't, if the lack of any possible trace of it doing so meant anything. It looked undisturbed, which was a good sign.
Saps could feel himself breathe in properly in what felt like an hour straight, shoulders slumping in relief. What a ridiculous situation this was; he almost started laughing at it.
His hand lifted to comb through his hair with a sigh. Maybe he needed a good night’s rest after all if he was starting to believe the potential of the dead rising.
At least he made sure. All that truly mattered was just simply making sure.
The angel turned on his feet to begin a journey back to Cass, to apologize for running off so suddenly without a single word of explanation, but in the end didn't end up moving from that one spot. He couldn’t bring himself to do so when his gaze suddenly fell upon painfully familiar violet eyes.
Saparata tried to blink himself awake. Then again, and again. Six more times.
He’d whip around back to the grave - entirely in one piece, not one hint of disturbed dirt in the ground. He eyed over each little detail until the writing etched onto the tombstone felt like it was mocking him.
“Saps,” a voice called from behind him. A casual tone that was all too familiar. He’d heard it even after his former friend’s passing, but it was different now. It lacked the echo it carried with itself - it sounded real. “Not even a hello?”
Saparata had to force himself to look back at the figure, afraid of what he might end up finding. This was significantly worse than any delusional hallucination he's had so far. This could be actually real.
And then what should he do?
“Are you…” Saps started, unsure of what he even wanted to ask at that moment. He had plenty of unanswered questions (about everything), but he was never expecting to be able to actually ask them all, considering the one person that could give an answer was dead.
Or rather, one person that was supposed to be dead.
“Am I?” Fluixon answers with his own question like a trained politician would to save himself. He technically really was one - right hand of Luminara, later becoming their actual leader. That certainly counted as a political figure. “I don’t look like a ghost, do I?”
Saps had to force back an indignant scoff.
“I don’t know, I’ve never seen one. You could be, for all I know,” the mediator tried jesting sarcastically to himself to calm down, even if he didn’t even find the joke funny in the slightest amount.
Flux didn’t look dead, not in any sense of the word.
He showed no sign of injury, let alone any blood or fatal wound, he wasn’t any paler than ever, his eyes had a light to them.. Even the clothes he wore were untethered.
He stood there, in all of his pristine glory. Like nothing ever changed from day one.
“Well. I’m not, thanks.” The noiret could see the doubt still lingering in his enemy’s expression though. And so he reached out an arm as an offer. “Go on. Check.”
Check, the word rang in Saparata’s mind.
He glanced at the other’s arm spread out like an offering, and he felt his own hand lift instinctively to wrap its fingers just barely around the wrist. The pad of his thumb brushed and pressed against a very clear pulse underneath the skin. A feeling so warm and undeniably real that Saps had to flinch back to realize this was actually happening right then and there.
“Oh Ish, you are real,” the angel said in a tone that sounds most akin to disbelief while he took a few steps back (yet cautiously enough to make sure that he wouldn’t walk onto the grave behind him).
Fluixon was obviously real. Realer than any distant voice or blurry figure of his that Saps had heard and seen these past couple days. Real enough to communicate; real enough to be capable of being touched; real enough to have a beating heart somewhere underneath his ribcage.
Saparata sort of wanted to dig his hands into it just to feel the organ pulse in his palm. That one was most definitely an inside thought to keep to himself.
“You act like I’m going to cause the world to explode. I just got here. I haven’t done anything yet.” Fluixon’s hands rose up in a gesture akin to some kind of surrender. And yet his expression showed no hint of remorse or shame as he spoke; his tone lacked a sense of compassion to it - like the noiret felt no guilt.
Then again, Flux always was good at hiding his thoughts.
It honestly made Saparata’s stomach churn with an uneasy feeling that he couldn't fully describe even in the confines of his own mind. Even then he could feel anger burn deep in his chest.
How could someone sound so collected - so unconcerned - after reuniting with the person whose life they ruined? How could Flux stand there so peacefully, as if Saps wasn’t actively holding himself back from pulling his weapon out just to tear through the other’s spinal cord; through each ligament holding his body together, just to hear the flesh rip underneath the sharp blade of his sword?
“Yet. You haven’t done anything yet,” the angel cautiously pointed out, half-expecting his imminent death to collect its due life payment just from standing near the guy.
Sue him for being on edge when all Flux had done for him was lie to him, frame him for seven counts of murder and then set bounties on his head like he was a prize up for grabs. Like a game of catching a mouse; playing with your food. “I have no reason to trust you.”
Fluixon gave a hum at the response he received that sounded vaguely intrigued about the phrasing. “No. You really don’t. I didn’t ask for trust either. I know better than to expect that, even with how naive you are. Our last talk showed me plenty.”
Fair enough, Saps had to suppose.
It did end in one of their deaths after all. If that wasn’t enough of a sign on what ground their relationship stood on, then he wasn’t sure what else he could have done to prove his distrust in the noiret stood before him.
Flux continued regardless: “I have no plans for a rematch either. We both know how that’d end up.. I was never much of a fighter. I just got revived, you think I’d have something up my sleeve already? I don’t even have any items on me.” His hands lowered down to casually bury themselves into the pockets of his dark coat. “I already tried every trick I had.”
Did he, though?
Revival was never on the table of possibilities when they chose to join the event. Realistically, there was no chance Flux would have predicted dying and being revived, let alone constructing an entire plan after it. And yet…
“Okay. Fine, fair point,” Saparata admitted begrudgingly.
He knew that it wasn’t in any way rational to think that a dead guy who had just come back to life would have some kind of grand scheme instantly upon his return, so he did his best to push the thought away for the time being. At least temporarily.
That wasn’t to say he would place his trust in Fluixon either; far from it. But a part of him really wanted to. Or maybe he just wished it was simpler to describe the feeling of multiple conflicting emotions in his head.
The silence was left lingering by the both of them, neither seeming to have much else to say.
Until the former leader of Luminara glanced behind the white haired angel in front of him, over to the dripstone decorating a small monument wedged into the ground.
A grave. Flux’s grave.
Somehow, as Saps watched the other walk past him over to the structure, it suddenly felt nonsensical that he even bothered to make it in the first place. “It was just— It was to pay respects. You know, don’t speak ill of the dead and all.. I figured… No one deserves to rot right where they died, or get thrown to the lava like it doesn’t matter. Like… Like it never happened.”
“Is that so,” Flux hummed while he read over the inscription, giving a scoff after a short pause. “Did you write this yourself? For someone who’s supposed to hate me you sure aren’t all that convincing when you call me a friend you know.”
“...spur of the moment, you could say.”
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
The sun slowly lowered down onto the horizon, hiding away whilst painting the sky in hues of warm amber tones seamlessly fading to pink and violet and illuminating two figures sat at the beach’s edge where the grass transitions into sand. Not too close, but not unbearably far from one another.
The quietness only enhanced the faint flutter of feathers, the quiet rustling of fabric disturbed by the calling whistle of a passing wind.
What a bother.
What was the point of coming back for such a short amount of time? What was the point of coming back at all, really?
Sure, maybe people had loved ones to reunite with one last time before it all ends and starts anew, but Flux couldn’t find the sense in it at all. Maybe he was feeling bitter.
He could go off and find the rest of the Conspiracy, but… It felt like there was something chaining him to Saparata and refusing to actually allow him enough peace to simply stand up and leave.
“Do you still hate beaches?” The angel next to him asked suddenly without even turning to look Fluixon in the eyes, who had to hold back a huff at the idiotic attempt of making conversation.
Even then, he indulged the other anyway. “I don’t hate beaches. I just think the sand is too tacky and gets everywhere. You know how uncomfortable it is when it gets in your shoes? Huge pain all around.”
“That sounds like a lot of words for a yes,” Saps mumbled to himself, but clearly purposefully enough for the person beside him to hear. “I think they’re nice. The sand too. It’s always warm since the sun heats it up, so it feels nice to the touch. Besides, I think complaining about getting sand in shoes is just on you. Just take your shoes off when you go to the beach if it’s that annoying.”
“Absolutely not. That sounds horrific.” Just the thought of it made Flux shudder. It sounded downright appalling, and envisioning the feel of it is quite frankly unbearable in his mind. Though then again, he could imagine he wasn’t exactly known for his sensibility, so perhaps that didn't say much.
“It’s seriously not that bad. You’re actually overreacting so bad right now.” Even without looking at the white-haired man Fluixon could have heard the smirk in his tone of voice. Then - faint shifting, and the drop of an oddly familiar pair of boots in front of him whilst Saps stood up. “Come on,” he urged the noiret.
Flux just barely holds back a sneer, looking upwards to stare at Saparata entirely dumbfounded. “Right now? Are you serious?”
“Yes. I’m serious. When else? It’s the last day, who knows where we’ll end up next time. Get up, or I’ll drag you there myself - shoes or no shoes!”
“I’m not doing it. There’s no chance.”
And yet. He still found himself ending up at the shore’s edge - following behind Saparata as the winged man walked along the damp sand where the ocean’s waves drift over the land, creating mud that gathered at the soles of his black boots.
It seemed like a better idea to go along with Saps’ sudden plan willingly. He wouldn’t put it past the guy to actually haul him straight into the water if he struggled.
It was… weirdly peaceful.
Like the entire world had gone quiet, slowly being lulled asleep by the darkening sky.
Fluixon could see a few stars out already, even if the orange haze of the sun was yet to disappear fully. He was definitely able to see why Saparata had chosen such a spot for his so-called vacation home, even despite the lush jungle coating most of it.
Everything was done with. Today was the last day. The last breath of air that this world took before it’s gone.
Maybe he did see the appeal of coming back after all. An end like this was certainly better than dying prematurely in a colosseum during a grand war.
“A lot’s happened,” Saparata’s voice cut through the quiet contemplation of Fluixon’s distant thoughts, making him look over to the angel who had stopped in his tracks by then. “I can’t fully forget or forgive everything you did here, y’know. But…”
Flux’s eyes narrowed at the conjunction. “But?”
“I… I doubt I can just hate you forever either,” Saps confessed like it’s something hard for him to admit. He turned, looking at Fluixon like he was trying to gauge out any reaction. “I don't think I ever did. Well, not really…”
The words were almost unreal to hear, because what kind of mental gymnastics did Saparata’s mind have to have done to convince himself of that?
“I’m sorry?” Flux's voice comes out confused.
“It probably sounds stupid. I have every right to hate you, but no matter what, I just…” The admission comes out unfinished; unsure of its own continuation. Instead, a question leaves his lips: “You apologized. Back in the colosseum. Did it… mean anything? Or were you lying because you thought it would make me hesitate in killing you?”
“You think I was thinking that far ahead by that point?” Flux couldn’t help but scoff. Even if he had won their fight, he’d lost once the truth about his conspiracy was revealed. Not that he was even expecting to win against Saps anyway. He sighed, for what felt like the millionth time in one day. “Honestly, just… Believe what you want. Whether it’s true or not.”
“You’re so vague,” the angel commented with a ring to his voice that sounded.. disappointed perhaps.
Before Fluixon could even fully process the tone, two hands suddenly pushed him back enough for him to lose his balance and trip backwards into the shallow water of the ocean.
The instant wet feel of fabric against his skin made his expression turn to a scowl. He looked upwards to glare at Saparata, and ended up blinking in surprise that matched the angel's own expression.
“I wasn't expecting you to actually fall,” he stated dumbly, before Fluixon could see his lips quirk up into a smile. Saps couldn't fully muffle the snort of laughter he was clearly trying to hold back.
The fucking audacity.
Without thinking twice, Flux swiped his leg right against the other's ankles to effectively catch him off guard. In turn, Saparata yelped as he tried using his hands to soften his own fall back.
Serves him right, Flux thought. He didn't even realize when a smirk crawled its way onto his face; didn't realize when Saps had started laughing properly, or when he began staring at the ethereal angel as he did so.
Not until the other had splashed water right in his direction.
The cold liquid was like a punch to the face - waking him up from his daze in a matter of milliseconds. All of the sudden, it felt like he was wide awake. Saparata’s voice finally sounded audible as he tried to stop himself from laughing.
“Asshole! You deserved that and you know it! Don’t complain now!” The angel accused, pointing a finger at the noiret before him even if a smile ruins any stern or annoyed persona Saps might have been going for as he called the other out.
And… Yeah, maybe it was a little deserved, but it didn’t mean Fluixon was just simply going to take this treatment either.
Flux returned the action without a second thought to it, watching as Saps tried covering his face before he got completely drenched (though a little too slow in his timing). “Stop splashing me, you moron,” Flux returned an insult back at his former friend.
“You’re doing it too, though!” Saps retorted with an offended tone.
“I’m merely defending myself!”
“As if?!”
The argument went back and forth a good few more times with no real winner between the two, both unaware of a stare belonging to a deity watching them from a distance.
The scene reminded Ish of the very first day he'd come across Flux and Saps in the first place - how the two happily enjoyed each other's company without a care in the world. It played out like a distant memory of the beginning days of this world.
The God watched the two bicker (by that point they'd even started chasing after each other), letting the last hours and minutes pass by like melting snow after wintertime.
“Better luck next time, you two.”