master-of-inscrutable-depths

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

Hiatus Announcement

((Hey, all. After considerable thought on the matter I have decided to put Thane on indefinite hiatus; I’m juggling a lot of muses right now and Thane has never really taken off for me like the others. I may come back to him, but in the meantime please feel free to follow and interact with me on Aria, Jenna, Matty, Philip, Bailey, or Mordin. :) ))

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

Hiatus Announcement

((Hey, all. After considerable thought on the matter I have decided to put Thane on indefinite hiatus; I’m juggling a lot of muses right now and Thane has never really taken off for me like the others. I may come back to him, but in the meantime please feel free to follow and interact with me on Aria, Jenna, Matty, Philip, Bailey, or Mordin. :) ))

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

Hiatus Announcement

((Hey, all. After considerable thought on the matter I have decided to put Thane on indefinite hiatus; I’m juggling a lot of muses right now and Thane has never really taken off for me like the others. I may come back to him, but in the meantime please feel free to follow and interact with me on Aria, Jenna, Matty, Philip, Bailey, or Mordin. :) ))

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

“Indeed.” Thane smiled quietly. “I am well cared for. This is the best facility on the Citadel, and as well-funded as can be expected given the state of the galaxy at present. I have no complaints and only few regrets.”

He tipped his head slightly to one side. “But what of you? You have kept safe, I hope?”

For a moment, he was quiet.  Letting that sink in.  Thane hadn’t said he was going to die.  But Tavi wasn’t stupid.  He glanced up, then back down to the ground.  “…I’m sorry.”

It sounded weak.  The best he could offer to a dying man was I’m sorry?  After a moment, he sighed.  “You doing good though?  Here I mean?  As good as you can be?”

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

“Far be it from me to criticize your business practices,” he said, a hint of deadpan wryness to his tone. His eyes tracked the movement of her gun until it was safely away, though even then he did not relax; it was too easy to be punished for letting one’s guard down.

���Until later.” He turned slightly, took a step back, then another. His eyes stayed on her, ready for any sign of betrayal. He would see her again, he had no doubt; she was clearly as good at their job as he was, and either she would try to kill him again or their mutual capabilities would draw them together by other means.

Greatness attracts greatness, as they say.

He reached the junction of their corridor with another, and in a flash was gone, disappearing up onto the catwalks and into the darkness.

“Fair indeed – for both parties,” she agreed, amused.  “My client will be envious.  Unlike you, I still get paid for effort taken and, in this case, time essentially wasted.  But that would be my client’s problem, not mine.”

He was a better person than she and Monica could respect – possibly even admire – that.  But that was unfortunately not the sort of system she worked with.  She actually had no need for the money, despite her words, but it kept up the reputation that she preferred to uphold.  She got paid well and the only people who approached her were the ones who had jobs interesting enough to be worth their credits.  She could afford to be picky and Monica could not pretend that she didn’t enjoy it.

Monica matched his movements wordlessly until her weapon was back in its holster, hidden securely under her jacket as per her norm.  She tilted her head in question.

“Until later then?”

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

“You are not. I simply would not wish you to bear on my behalf any weight you do not desire,” Thane said gently. He settled himself into the seat next to Tavi, folding his hands comfortably in his lap, and was quiet a while as he decided how best to detail his current condition in brief. 

“It is a disease called Kepral’s Syndrome -- a disease of the lungs, insidious but common to drell who live in damp environments. I have battled it for many years...but I am afraid I am reaching the end of my time with it.”

Tavi dropped into the chairs, surprisingly comfortable even with the fact that they were in the hospital.  Huerta at least had some basic comforts.  His face fell though as Thane elaborated.  “Ill… Shit.  I’m… Fuck, I’m sorry.”

His mandibles fluttered, then sagged low and he couldn’t help but look away.  “How serious is serious?”  After a pause he continued, “If it’s okay to ask I mean… if I ain’t prying.”

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

“No,  you misunderstand, my son.” Thane was quick to reassure him, stroking his thumb along the ridges of the boy’s cheek. “I mean I hope it will not be a long journey. I do not wish to be apart from you more than I must.”

Kolyat slipped from his fingers, and Thane watched him go, looking mildly surprised at the facility with which his son turned himself to the piano. He had not known that Kolyat had taken up Irikah’s hobby of music.

The swirl of bright sound circles him. Her eyes are wide with the pulse of the music, long fingers rhythmic up and down on the keys...a river of emotion pouring from her body...

He remembered the first time he had watched Irikah play. It had been a long time ago, when they were first finding their feelings for each other. She had introduced him to so many things missing from the life of a young assassin. Art, and music, and love...and now Kolyat was following in her footsteps, pulling that beautiful music out of the air. He recognized the tune, vaguely; one she had played in her sadder moments...

And he realized how long it had been since he had been present to hear her play.

“That was excellent, Kolyat,” he said quietly, hoarsely. “You have your mother’s gift.”

His father’s confidence in him filled his young heart with pride and his spine straightened in response  A man who was just short of the gods, in his eyes, believed in him, knew he could handle such an important job. His eyes momentarily closed as his father’s hand swept down the small spines on the top of his head. It seemed like forever since he’d felt his father’s touch. 

His eyes opened as he felt himself lowered to the ground. His dark eyes searched his father’s. He tilted his head. “You wish to receive a message soon? Are you so eager to leave again?” His lips tightened, but he forced his expression to remain schooled. He was trying to be a big boy and not cry at the thought of his father leaving again. There was only the slightest waver to his lower lip, perhaps a hint of rigidness to his shoulders, but more so, it was the pain in the depths of his dark eyes that he’d not learned how to shutter yet. That was what gave his feelings away.

His father’s next words quickly drew his mind from somber thoughts. Excitement leapt into his eyes. He could show him -.  His gaze dulled. No. No, he could not. He felt bad keeping it from his father, but no one else must know. Ever. He had to protect his mother. His eyes lit up again when he realized there was something he could show his father. He took the much larger hand in his own and pulled his father over to his mother’s piano. It had two rows of larger keys, spaced a bit further apart.

He released his father’s hand and climbed up onto the bench. His father meditated, his mother used the piano to center herself and work out her emotions. He pulled the last song she’d played, it was late at night, she hadn’t heard him come out to listen. His small, teal fingers slid over the keys and a somber, haunting tune swirled around them.

Irikah blinked, her mouth dropped open, momentarily stunned. She had thought she was alone, that her son had been asleep. She had been thinking of her husband, missing him. She had released her pain, pain always kept hidden and bottled up, into the tune. Her eyes darted to her husband and then to the floor, her cheek folds flushed, before her features were quickly schooled. “He’s been practicing for some time. He wished to surprise you.“ Indeed, their son had surprised her as well. It was a song of her own making. She rarely played known tunes, she preferred to just let it drain out through her fingertips. It also helped to unwind when work became too frustrating. It was hard to be around the terminally ill all day and not be affected. But she’d chosen to join the medical field when her own father crossed the sea from Kepral’s. Families came to her only when the end was near. She worked closely with the hanar and fought to extend their last days with their families, sometimes using extreme or experimental measures. One day, she would find the cure to a disease that took her father…took far too many of their people. 

His fingers finally stilled and he turned a hopeful gaze to his father, his cheek folds flushed, unable to look at his mother. There were other songs he could have played, but this one touched him.

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

He grunts as her fingers strike his chest, pushing him back against the bed. Her rambling comments on Udina and the political situation slide right past him as his attention is for the moment focused on one indelible fact. Shepard lived. The councilor lived. They did it. It was not for nothing.

“Thank you...” he whispers. His eyes flicker half-shut, then open again. Were he to die now, he would go with a clear heart, but it is evident Cosmas does not mean to let that happen. She means for him to live.

He wonders what he has done to deserve someone working so hard on his behalf. Saving the Councilor was atonement; it balanced the scales. No more than that.

But he does not object -- and her threat to douse him in cold water startles a highly uncharacteristic laugh from him, which catches in his throat raggedly but emerges still whole. “I have based my entire life on doing the foolish but extraordinary, doctor...” he murmurs, brushing his fingers against her arm before she pulls away again. 

Then, more seriously, he goes on, “You have done much for me, and I am sorry I had to return the favor by disappearing. I...think it likely I will not do such a thing again.”

In the past, he would have meant this cynically -- because he would die soon enough and there would be no further time for it. But oddly enough, even with the hole in his chest still healing, he feels hope under Cosmas’s care. He would prefer not to betray the time she has invested in him again.

Inpatient ((Cosmas/Krios))

She doesn’t mean to. She knows she should be calm, cool, and collected when dealing with her patients, especially one in bad a shape as Mr. Krios is right now. But when his heart monitor starts beeping harshly, she can’t help but quickly thrust out her hands to make sure he stays glued to his bed. Her fingers swiftly turn gentle, as if they’d never meant to apply any pressure, just a comforting touch. She can’t help it. She’s tired and on edge and Thane has already disappeared on her once when he was in no condition to be running off to play hero.

“Everything is fine. We’re still on the Citadel, we’re still at Huerta, and Commander Shepard was here to save the day as per usual. One might say nothing is out of the ordinary.” Then, as an afterthought, she adds, “Oh, but Udina is no longer with us. Not that he didn’t deserve what he got, betraying us all to Cerberus, and Cerberus betraying all of humanity, but…Well, I always liked him, truth be told…He was always standing up for humans, made a human a Spectre, got us on the Council…” Expressing her political views was also another no-no at work. She sighed and shook her head. 

“The salarian councilor is safe though. You’re a hero. I’m sure she’d like to thank you.” Cecilia sets the water to the side once he’s had enough to drink. “You did an extraordinary thing today. Stupid, but extraordinary. When you’re feeling better, please let me know so that I may throw douse you in ice water. You’re wonderful, and I’m happy you’re alright, but I could kill you at the same time.” 

She’s certainly lost today. This is much too familiar. Cecilia straightens her back and places her hands behind it. “Forgive me for any unprofessionalism you just witnessed, Mr. Krios. I have not quite recovered from the shock.”

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

He smiled. “There is nothing to apologize for. You did not know.” The drell’s shoulders relaxed slightly as he settled into the conversation. It seemed a long time since he had spoken to anyone from outside the hospital, about something other than his illness.

He gestured for Tavi to sit on the set of chairs nearby, looking out over the view of the Presidium. “I was not injured. I have been...ill,” he said slowly. It was, he found somewhat to his surprise, difficult to articulate aloud to one who did not already know. “Perhaps I should not burden you with the details. But it is...quite serious.”

“Oh… oh.��  He nodded, slowly.  “I’m sorry, didn’t realize.”  Relaxing soon after, Tavi was soon back to full curiosity, looking Thane over to catalogue any changes in the man.  Wounds, anything that could have landed him in the hospital.  He didn’t see any, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

“Wars gotten to everyone but… I got off luckier than a lotta people.  What about you?” He tilted his head.  “You get injured or…?”

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

Thane’s smile grew more honest. His son’s laugh always went straight to the heart of him, stored away to be recalled when he had need of brightness. “I know I can count on you, Kolyat,” he said with a chuckle, stroking the curve of his son’s skull. But the cheerfulness in his gaze faded as he met Irikah’s gaze past the boy’s shoulder.

Sunset eyes defiant in the scope--

She was angry. Something had happened. He raised his brows questioningly, but since she said nothing he did not either; clearly it was not a matter to be discussed in front of their child.

So he set Kolyat on the ground and crouched in front of him, placing both hands on his shoulders. “I do not know; when I receive another message they will tell me. I hope it will not be long, however. And in the meantime we will have time together. You must show me what you have been learning in my absence.”

He giggled at the tweak. And nodded his head exaggeratively, before his face screwed up into a frown. “School is not much fun, father. Though, I get to see my friends. Milen painted the back of Sarla’s head!” he said in a loud whisper. “He had to help the cusodi -” he stopped and pulled the word from his memory, “custodians pick up debris after school.”

When he brought Kolyat needing to take care of her, she frowned for the briefest moments, before plastering a smile on her face. A smile that didn’t reach her eyes, but a smile that would fool their son, if not her husband. It wasn’t because he’d said that, but it was because of what had happened this day, because of that very thing. She gave the barest shake of her head.

“Taking care of mother is an important job,” he said as if it were the most improtant thing he would ever do. “You can count on me, father,” his face and tone asserios as any adults, when he made the vow to his father. A vow he’d already made to himself.

He blinked, realizing his father had not actually answered his question. Something he’d not really picked up on in the past. “Father,” he places a small, baby-soft hand on his father’s cheek folds. “How long will you stay this time?” His voice devoid of its earlier laughter, his gaze searching his father’s.

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

There is dull pain in his chest where the assassin’s blade went through. He doesn’t know if it is actually healing or if the painkillers are merely blunting the effects of the wound. He doesn’t know which breath may be his last.

But Cosmas’s tone is reassuring in its firm crispness. We’re here and we’re going to help you. She looks exhausted, worn to the bone, and yet she is still here, working to keep him alive. He wonders if her fellow doctors would have given up the case by now.

He lifts his head carefully, sips greedily at the water which soothes his parched tongue and throat. “Thank you,” he rasps softly, letting himself sink back against the pillow again. “I...The councilor...the invasion...” There is a sudden spark of energy in his eyes; the beeping to his right intensifies as his heart rate picks up. “It is over?” He searches her eyes for the response he needs -- that Shepard managed to repel the attack. That the hospital, that his doctor and his son, are safe. “What happened?”

He ignores the question of food. The idea makes his stomach roil, unsettled. He is not hungry. But he must know what came of his stand against the Cerberus assassin.

Inpatient ((Cosmas/Krios))

Her body feels stiff from sitting in the chair, but there’s a warm pillow to her right, and she snuggles into it best she can. It isn’t until the familiar sound of the monitors trilling sharply through her ears that she opens her eyes, quickly sitting up.

“Don’t try to talk,” she quickly chastises Thane as he attempts to call out for them. She stands, slipping from Kolyat’s embrace, but he squeezes her hand as she pulls away, and she squeezes back. Other than that, it’s back to professionalism. “We’re here and we’re going to help you.” Cecilia won’t let him die here. They’ve come so far together, and she knows he still has fight in him.

“The good news is, you look stable. That’s thanks to Kolyat for the most part. He’s been here for you,” she informs him, grabbing some water to bring to the older drell, standing over his bedside.

She checks his vitals, hoping that he feels at least a little better and it isn’t too painful. He should be hopped up on pain medication by now. “I’ll bring you something small to eat fi you’re feeling hungry. You need your strength.”

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

serekolyatkrios:

She put down the book and smiled softly at her son. “Your father will be here shortly.” She watched the excitment leap into the boy’s eyes. The love he had for his father was greater than the love he had for herself. She had accepted it a long time ago. They do say absense makes the heart grow fonder. It was apparenlty true of their son.

“He’s late,” he said, his lower lip sticking out. But the pout on his lips was only dramatics, his body trembled and his eyes danced with a glee he could not contain.

She rubbed the small spines on his head. “Your father has a very important job. If they didn’t need him so much, he’d never be able to leave us. Your father loves us this much,” she said, spreading her arms wide, before they zoomed in to capture her son.

“That’s a lot of love,” he giggled, hugging his mother back. “He is really coming?”

“Yes, he really is,” she murmured into his ear, keeping her voice steady for his sake.

At the sound of the door opening, he tugged out of his mother’s embrace and raced towards the door, grinning eat to ear, his arms outstretched. “Father! You’re home!”

When his father lowered himself, he jumped, launching himself into waiting arms. His arms clutch tight around his father’s neck, in a desperation he couldn’t comprehend. he buried his face in his father’s neck, inhaling his familiar scent. A scent he’d misses so much. Ever since he caught his mother curled up in one of his father’s jackets, he’d had to do the same thing. It was more comforting than any blanket at night.

All thought fled, as he was spun around, a shrill shriek of joy spilled from his lips and ended with giggles as his father hugged him tight.

Irikah watched the reunion quietly. A single tear slipped down her cheek. She didn’t wipe it away, she didn’t need to. It was already drying in the dehumidfied air.

“I fell down today and hurt my knee! I didn’t even cry. I’m a big, strong boy, just like you father! Mother said your job’s important, that I have to wait my turn,” he rambled excitedly. “It’s my turn now!,” he squeezed his father’s neck tighter. “I’m a big boy. I can share.” Most days he could anyway. It was harder to want to share his father, his father wasn’t around as often as his toys. “How long father? How long is my turn?” Large, hopeful eyes, filled with love and joy stared at his father.

Thane smiled, not a little sadly. “My job is important to the people who ask it of me,” he said quietly, rubbing his son’s back, feeling the strength of his embrace. He could feel Irikah’s eyes on him, attentive to how he handled the boy’s growing curiosity.

Some day...some day I must tell him what it is I do. If only to dissuade him from it. But that day would not be today. He was tired, worn down by the chase that had taken him nearly two weeks to complete. He wanted to enjoy this time with his family unreservedly.

“It is still mine alone for now, Kolyat,” he said reprovingly with a gentle chuckle, tweaking Kolyat’s cheek. “You have your schooling, you know. That is your job. And taking care of your mother while I am gone -- very important, wouldn’t you agree?” He met Irikah’s gaze over Kolyat’s shoulder, one of his eyes twitching in a wink. “Enough to keep any boy very busy.”

Some day I must tell him. But not today.

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

“I have not made it common knowledge that I am here; in fact, my stay is under an assumed name,” Thane answered gravely. He was pleased to see Tavian; his encounters with the young turian had been scattered and at times somewhat tense -- through no fault of either -- but Thane liked him. He was easy to talk to, to interact with, something with which Thane could not credit everyone.

“You have been well, I hope?” He let his arms fall, hooked them behind his back. “I hope the war has not touched you too greatly.”

Tavi pulled back too, reflexes sharp even if he had little reason to learn combat.  He stepped back, steadied himself, taking a moment to recover from the shock of the close call.  His mandibles fluttered slowly.  “…Heh.  Hi Thane.”  He smiled though, shock giving way to the surprise of simply seeing an old friend.

“I didn’t think you’d… Spirits, didn’t know if I’d see you again at all, let alone here.”  It had been months, close to a year anyway, and it was a year that took him from wasting every night on cheap booze and free fucks to… well, wherever he was now.  He couldn’t really think of how to describe it.

Still, the fact that Thane was in a hospital did put a… damper on the whole ‘seeing people he liked’ thing.  He tried to think of a way to ask exactly why he was there without it sounding insensitive and came up empty.

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

☯:Here, have a hug from my muse. (have I covered all the bases??Missed my dad)

Thane smiled, dipped to his knees to catch the small blur of a boy running at him. With a deft maneuver he scooped Kolyat, spun in a circle, hugged him close.

This last job had been a difficult one. He was tired. He had been too long away from his family. No doubt there would be talks had about it, later after the boy was in bed. But for now he did not concern himself with that, just focused on the warmth of his son in his arms.

“Kolyat,” he murmured, a throaty, affectionate rumble. “It is good to see you, my son. How are you?”

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

☠:Kolyat has died, this is how Thane reacts. (bad me)

For a long moment, he is silent. The Huerta orderly looks at him with great sympathy, sorrow even, but has the wisdom to say nothing. There is nothing to be said.

“My son is dead?” Thane finally whispers. The words seem to stick harder than usual in his throat. Grief and anger saturate them. “My own body suffocates me day by day; is that not enough? Have I not suffered enough, that they take my innocent boy? Have we both not--” To his own surprise, he mounts quickly to a roar, stunned by a dizzying sense of having come unmoored from reality, as if the last thing rooting him to the universe has snapped.

“What happened?” he bellows at the orderly, both hands balled into fists, pale white-green at the knuckles. “What happened? Tell me everything. Tell me who killed him. Tell me...” He dissolves into a fit of coughing, doubles over, nearly falling to his knees, but when he lifts his head, his eyes are clear, a black staring gaze that has lost any of its usual serenity.

“Tell me who killed him. And I will know my final target.”

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

✍:For what my muse has written about yours in their diary.

I saw him today. My son...

What a man he has grown into...

Shepard agreed to my request, took me to the Citadel. She helped me track him. We were almost too late. But we stopped him. He is alive. He is safe.

He hates me. Not without reason, not perhaps without some glimmer of love to balance it, but hates me nevertheless. We spoke a long while. I do not know if we will recover what was lost. But I will try. I must try.

I mean to write him tomorrow, rekindle this ember of communication before it dies into ash again. I feel...hope, for the first time in a long while. It is a strange feeling...

[master-of-inscrutable-depths]

Despite the retched father you were in his youth, despite the pain of seeing you again, your son never truly stopped loving you, not in the depths of his heart. He would die for you without a thought.

I...[a long pause] I hope you are right. Not that he would die for me, but that...he has not lost hope that I may yet be worth something to him.

I...do hope that you are right.