It dawned suddenly on Rohaan that Pieter didn't know. He supposed that was possible, though he often held the belief that the adults in his life always seemed to know what was going on. Mostly, that held true. He thought Pieter knew where Kaga Met came from but...evidently he didn't. Feeling a bit less like the whole world was ganging up on him and the people he loved were betraying him, he lost a little of his venom. Only a little; he was still visibly upset, but upon that realization, he looked a little less like he was going to torch the ship. Did everyone else know, or just Berlin? It didn't matter, he was still furious at Berlin for letting this happen. He knew allies in the coming battle would be a good thing but...well, he was still mad.

Unsure of what else to do with himself, he got up and took the pot of potatoes and a fork and began angrily stabbing at them, and only used the back of the tines to mash the potatoes as an afterthought. He was quiet for a while, then, softly, "They're..." It was hard to even say it and he felt the words stick in his throat. "They're from Bariz." His lip trembled a little. "For all I know, I could be the last living Vokurian of Ikheda island because of Barizians and Berlin--" he clamped his mouth shut and his lips twisted in an attempt to keep them from quivering. Unsuccessfully. Suddenly, he finally determined that what he wanted at the moment was consolation, so he buried his face into Pieter's stomach, his wiry arms curling around him and his little fists balling up handfuls of his shirt and apron. 


"I'm [I]so mad[/i]," he said into Pieter's shirt. It was not often that Rohaan actually verbally expressed what he was feeling. Usually, it just sort of came out in his body language or mood rather than in actual words. He did not say he was scared, though that was obvious enough. "It's like he doesn't even care..." he choked. He couldn't decide which was worse: the discomfort of having these strangers in his home, or Berlin's betrayal. His trust in the man ran deep, and on some level he knew inherently that Berlin would do nothing to willingly harm him, and he probably had some good reason for doing this in the first place. But it still hurt. And he still had pervasive thoughts of a dark and overpacked ship's hold filled with children he knew by name. 


---

Uban smiled. "Of course. You're one us, now, and we--oooh!" The little thread of electricity buzzing between his fingers diverted suddenly, spanning now to one of Hana's fingers. Uban stared, mouth open, utterly surprised that such a thing was even possible. she had once used the rune to hold electricity he'd generated in her own hands, but it had never spanned between the two of them. For as long as he'd known about his power, the forces of lightning had belonged to him and to the sky alone. It was momentarily jarring to have that power be suddenly divided. But he did not look offended. Instead, his eyes, turning from green to gold before Hana's own eyes, widened and his lips spread in a grin. "You can do that..?" His mind whirled with possibilities. 

"So, how often do you do this with other girls?"

Uban's eyes glinted and his eyebrows lifted a little. "Actually, it's my first time..." he said playfully and with unabashed innuendo. After all, he was at heart forever the witty and often bawdy bard. It was then that Uban became aware of...[I]something[/I]. At first, he wasn't sure what it was, but he could definitely sense some change in the familiar electric thrum. His smile faded a little bit and his golden eyes changed from jovial to curious as he studied her intently. He felt...something else in addition to the steady current he knew so well. Something new. Something rhythmic. A pulsating--no! [I]A pulse.[/I]

"I..." he chuckled very softly, disbelievingly, as if he'd just seen the beauty of the Northern Lights for the first time. "I can feel your heartbeat," he said finally, softly. "It sends out a tiny pulse..." A whirl of exhilaration flooded him; he found it strangely intoxicating and...intimate.

Uban blinked, breaking the connection. If he looked embarrassed, it was only for a brief flash. "Whoa..." He ran a hand over his curly hair and there was an audible crack from the static. "That was incredible! I wonder how far we could stretch it? We oughtta get you a ring or a tattoo or something so I can just pass it to you like a ball!" He generated a small little ball in one hand and passed it behind his back, as if juggling, to his other hand before letting it dissipate with a small pop.