[table][row][cell][img]https://i.imgur.com/ADdFNTM.png[/img][/cell][cell][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240504/7ea89157aa7490b85c1faa2a61df7e74.png[/img][/cell][/row]
[row][cell][sub]Location: Eye of the Beholder[/sub][/cell][/row][/table]
Kira held Ivor’s gaze as he spoke, her own expression unreadable. Slipping into an old, familiar habit, she assessed each emotion that flickered behind his eyes—the subtle mingling of grief and endearment, sorrow and happiness—watching how they passed like clouds across his violet eyes.

She wondered, briefly, what it felt like to leave behind someone you’d loved. 

Was Aleksi still alive somewhere? Or had he been taken by the world long before Ivor ever became blight-born? Was the grief in Ivor’s gaze for the life he had to abandon... or for the people he could never return to?

She could no longer remember her birth family's faces. Couldn’t recall their voices. Couldn’t summon the feeling of loving and being loved by them—or if they had ever loved her at all. 

The memory had long been burned out of every corner of her mind. Only painful scarring remained. The awareness that something had once been there, but it had been forcefully ripped out and shredded beyond recognition. 

She respected that Ivor hadn’t given Aleksi’s story away. And yet, somehow, he had still painted a portrait with enough shape and color for her to understand. Aleksi sounded like someone she could’ve sympathized with. Someone who’d forged armor over a wound and learned to live inside it. An iron heart weighed heavy in her chest, too.

[color=9a45dc]“Though it took much, [b]much[/b] longer for him to call me brother as well,”[/color]

A faint smile tugged at her lips then, quick and involuntary.

But when his tone shifted—when his gentle words turned directly toward her again—her smile fell away. Unable to meet his gaze, her eyes dropped back to the small bottle still resting between her fingertips.

[color=9a45dc]“Ivor hope that one day you see the people here as home and as family, as Ivor sees you, Sister.”[/color]

Kira was quiet for a long moment.

She still couldn't look at him—not at first. Her eyes stayed on the table, watching the way her bottle of liquor caught the firelight. Her fingers didn’t move. She made no attempt to shift or speak, no witty remark offered to deflect what Ivor had said. His words had sunk too deep, wrapping around her heart like a vice.  

[i]Sister.[/i]

The word struck something raw. Like a stone dropped into water, it rippled through her in a way she hadn’t anticipated. 

She wasn’t sure what she had expected when she’d asked about Aleksi. Perhaps a simple name, a profession, a place—[i]a meaningless distraction[/i]. But not the warmth of a bond that bled through Ivor’s words. Not the kind of loyalty that didn’t waver even when wrapped in pain. Not the ache of remembering someone in the space they'd left behind, however obscure. 

And she certainly hadn’t expected him to look at [i]her[/i] that way. As if she belonged somewhere—to someone. As if she hadn’t spent most of her life slipping through places like a shadow. As if she hadn’t built her survival on not being [i]known[/i].

What had she done to earn Ivor’s kindness? Part of her wondered if it came with a hidden price.

Slowly, her gaze lifted to meet his. 

[color=DC561E]“I think Aleksi was lucky to have you.”[/color]

She studied Ivor again, as though she were trying to map out the shape of his heart and piece together how it hadn’t closed up like hers. The mere sight of him—three hundred pounds of optimism—felt like something she didn’t quite know what to do with. All that kindness. All that openness. How had he held onto it so tightly? Had she ever even possessed it?

Something softer moved behind her eyes. A minor shift in her expression.

[color=DC561E]“Where is Ale—”[/color]

[color=f7976a]"Gud mornin' everbuddeh! Who wants a hug?”[/color]

Kira’s eyes narrowed at the loud disturbance crashing into the tavern, the voice grating against her ears. Her gaze snapped toward the source. Another blight-born, lanky, adorned with four arms, and grinning like a lunatic. 
And worse—he spoke with an accent she hadn’t heard in over a decade. One she never wanted to hear again.

Luckily, Sya was on him within seconds. If the serpent woman couldn’t keep peace within her own heart, at least she tried to keep it in this tavern.

Kira’s eyes flicked back to Ivor. Every instinct screamed at her to leave.

It was time, [i]wasn’t it[/i]? 

The tavern was too full. Too many sounds, too many scents, too many bodies crowding in with their heat and noise and pulsing hearts. It pressed against her skin and crawled into her lungs. Suffocating. 

But she forced herself to stay. To be present, if only to return the kindness he’d shown her. It wasn’t much, but it was all she felt capable of.

She held Ivor’s gaze, using the warmth in his eyes to anchor herself in the moment. It was still there—etched into every line of his face. Open. Friendly. Welcoming. Completely unfazed by the noise and chaos around them.

How had he managed not to forge his heart into iron too? How had Sya? 

Kira drew in a quiet breath, steadying herself as she reached for her coffee and lifted it to her lips. [color=DC561E]“Where is Aleski now?”[/color] she asked, her voice carefully measured. She took a sip, eyes locked on Ivor. 

But even as she tried to stay with him—[i]be here[/i]—something reverberated down her spine.

A worry. A flicker of hesitation that didn’t belong to her. 

Unbidden, a flash of an image entered her mind: A dark haired Lunarian guard, peering into a crate. 

Kira gripped the ceramic mug tighter. 

She hated this part of the bond. The nameless guard—[i]the poor fool[/i]—didn’t know what he was broadcasting to her. She shoved his emotion and the vision away, trying to block out his ties to her. 

[color=DC561E][i]Bastard.[/i][/color]

She’d need to end this bond—sooner rather than later. 

[hr]
[Sub][b]Interactions:[/b] Ivor [@Beard Dad]
[b]Mentions:[/b] Sya [@PrinceAlexus], Claret [@Dezuel], Aliseth [@Dark Light][/sub]