#do it justice bc this is so fuckign goOD i kept just rereading the ask bc it's so PERFECT and cute UGH

[byanyan]

It was too bad there weren't more books on humans in Sigma Rhada.

That was to expect from a species that wasn't native to Eros, but even so, the lack of information frustrated him. Ardaka knew he could ask the human he had in his life any question that came to mind… But the answer he would receive was always going to be limited. Very limited. Byan's recent antics had told the kariian there was some sort of significant human-related event happening, but he also didn't want to just ask them about it. Not only did it ruin any surprise, Byan was… Avoidant at the best of times. Sometimes a liar at his expense. They would deny it, but they were often flustered, too. He knew the sort of thing they'd find difficult to answer. Something sentimental, heartfelt — he knew Byan struggled with that, and for good reason. He'd indulge himself with a question later on, but for now…

The recent gift was something of a statement. Something had prompted it. While he wasn't sure of what it was, it didn't take Ardaka long to decide to begin putting together a gift for his human companion. It seemed like humans had too many holidays for him to truly keep track of anyway, but he understood the sentiment. Kariians did have similar gift-exchanging holidays, sparse as they were. Something related to things that were dear to you in your life. For the little human to express that sentiment to him meant something. It warranted a reciprocation, and gladly.

In fact, sometimes it seemed like he was running out of excuses to give Byan things, flighty and perpetually-unsettled as they often were. There always needed to be a reason for it. Even if Ardaka didn't exactly have the context, this was still a good one.

The gift Byan had made was now a month ago. Maybe two. Aside from framing the portrait, Ardaka hadn't mentioned it. He, too, had taken time to compose what he'd wanted to give them now. The Hunter had needed time to think… But he also needed time to perfect it. Even with his cybernetic eyes having the ability to gauge exact distance, Ardaka had went through the effort of being exact. He didn't want to say 'Hey, stand still while I measure the radius of your skull,' so he opted to wait for Byan to be asleep to do it without the potential hassle of spoiling his intentions. Ardaka was neurotic and anxious to those who knew him well, but when he intended to hide something, there were few more adept than he was. Byan might've assumed the kariian had no plan at all before they came across their gift.

How did they find it? First one of their knives had gone missing. In its usual place, a note to lure Byan elsewhere in the base, titled Humor Me.

From their backpack pocket to one room then another. Notes and riddles but nothing concrete until they come to the main room. There upon the table, not the knife but instead a sleek pair of gloves. They held the visual of being fingerless on first glance, but there was thin and resilient wiring that extended down to the fingers, meant to wind around them like rings. The note here read simply, Byan, then You'll figure them out. Then, Turn this over after.

Each knuckle held a divot like something was meant to come out, and the technical nature and feel of them left an implication that there was more to be garnered here. When Byan would put them on, including the wiring as intended, there was a subtle but painless undercurrent of electricity within. Only when they snapped their fingers did the note's promise come to fruition. Thumb to little finger, the power in the gloves hummed stronger. The nearest metal — a conveniently placed piece of cutlery — magnetized quickly to their palm. Snapping the combination again made them disappear, or even combo with another of the glove's features. Thumb to ring finger, a quarter of hard-light blades shot out from the divots atop the knuckles, similar in visuals to Ardaka's pink hard-light prosthetic. Warm like a sun-heated window-pane and as sharp as any knife. Thumb to middle finger, the hard-light took on an appearance more like plasma, and spread over like liquid across Byan's hands, moulding over them and effectively cutting off any sensation of outside temperature; they could have soaked their hands in acid then and remained perfectly safe. Thumb to index finger, the hard-light blades of the ring-finger snap extended and whirled into a circular shape, creating a small — but effective — shield.

When the note was turned over, there was another single sentence. Now where would I put a sword?

The room next to the training gym, naturally. Where he kept every blade, practically all of them too heavy for Byan to ever be interested in borrowing. Byan finds their knife here — among other things. The dagger is embedded through the next note, and into the neck of the training dummy. In the chest of the dummy is another blade — much longer than a dagger… And atop its makeshift head is a helmet, much smaller than those the Hunter donned.

The note didn't start with Byan's name exactly.

The gloves, the helmet, and the sword is for you. I admit, this might just be a convoluted scheme to get you to wear a helmet or a mask… But I know you'll find use in the gloves and the sword. Destructive use, I'm sure, but use nonetheless. I trust you'll do more damage with these than you will with a switchblade. Try not to get carried away when you're in here with any property damage, though..

It was a proper sword under that note, its hilt made of dense metal, the heaviest piece of the weapon. Consequently, had Byan discovered each trick to the new pair of gloves, the magnetized pull of it was powerful enough to draw it right into their palm, where it fit easily, hilt-first. The weight was far easier to manage than the swords the kariian used despite its weight, its edge so light it almost seemed it was only fit to cut, to slash but not to cleave.

That was, until another of the glove's abilities was active. The harmless plasma-y liquid that coated over Byan's hand would extend up the sword, where it seemed to ignite like a lit match to a wick. It turned the edge of the blade white-hot with the barest hint of the same pink that shared the energy of these new tools. Hot and deadly enough to slice through metal like butter. It also brought attention to a script carved into the surface of that blade, that glowed a vibrant hue instead of white.

The helmet, on the other hand, was a sort of two-piece helmet. A front-facing protective mask that could seal to an additional attachment, making it take on a look more similar to that of Talon's motorcycle helmets. If it wasn't obvious that it was intended for Byan — the armor was, of course, pink. Bright, bright pink.

An additional two notes were attached. One another letter, and another attached with more care, on a material more resembling cardboard than paper in its thickness. It was a sketch of Byan. There was no color like the picture the teen had made the kariian, but each line was obviously etched by a claw dipped in ink, loose and minimalistic in comparison. While there seemed as few lines as needed to make the portrait, the human's dark eyes conveyed an intense, mischievous emotion.

Thank you for your gift to me. Accept mine to you as well. They may be a little over the top, but I think you deserve something worthy of being called a real set of gear. Not just a toothpick, but something even I would use.

The words on the sword say 'vaxa osti a todivarr mûrû'. It's a saying in my language that would translate roughly into 'the edge to depend upon'. This blade doesn't have a name, but all great ones do. I hope one day I'll learn what it is.

Sukehiir vur ruure a ohhta. Koz khukh kharvas xot zar mrrar sukeh zqrry.

re: byan inexplicably leaving ardaka a christmas gift with no context.

ㅤwaking up to a treasure hunt for their own knife was not how byan expected their day to start. and yet, here they were, barely awake and stumbling from room to room still clad in their pyjamas and intense bedhead, squinting at each note and trying to solve the clues without an ounce of caffeine in their system as of yet. part of them was tempted to step away for a moment to make some coffee before continuing to pursue the odd little search, but their curiosity to where this was going had them telling themself 'i'll do it after i find the next part' with each note they picked up, all the way to the base's main room.

stuffing the now-solved note into their pocket, byan approached the table with interest further piqued by the sight of more than just another note this time. it wasn't the knife that they were trying to track down, but they were some pretty cool looking gloves. a bit simple for their taste at first glance but, sliding the note closer and reading it over, there was an implication that they were more than they appeared. undeniably intrigued, the teen snatched one of the gloves off the table and lifted it toward their face, turning it over as they surveyed it more closely. there was something more here, upon closer inspection, even beyond the odd wiring which ran along the fingers, though they couldn't quite figure out what. knowing the sort of tech ardaka had and worked with, however, there was an excitement buzzing in the back of their head at the possibilities.

after a few further moments of study only to come up empty-handed, the only conclusive next step to figuring them out, as the note clearly intended for them to do before proceeding with the hunt, was to put them on. slipping their hands inside each of the gloves, impressed with how perfectly they fit, byan wasn't sure of what to expect, but the sudden sensation of an electrical undercurrent, painless as it was, earned a faint start regardless. ...okay, so there was definitely something more here.

it took a bit of playing around to figure things out. from simply touching the table and the note to closing their hands into fists and slipping them into their pockets to even just clapping their hands together, nothing seemed to cause anything interesting to happen. ...until they snapped their fingers absentmindedly while trying to think up some other way to get the things to activate, that was. the hard-light blades popped out first, earning yet another startled jump and a wide-eyed stare that melted into a thrilled excitement in a matter of seconds. oh, that was so much fucking cooler than they were prepared for. turning their hands to admire the warm pink blades, a wild grin took over byan's features as countless fun and kickass uses for such a thing began to flood their mind. experimentally, they snapped their fingers again, and the weapons disappeared just as suddenly as they'd appeared. god, it was so goddamn cool.

fully forgetting about the entire idea of making coffee, far more awake now than they had been in trying to follow all the previous notes, byan snapped their fingers a third time, this time catching their ring finger and their middle finger without really thinking about it. to their continued surprise, a second feature revealed itself, their hands now coated and seemingly protected by the same hard-light as before. while less exciting than the weapon function, there was no doubt that this would prove useful as well. more than that, though... there was no way these gloves had a different feature activated by each finger... right? obviously, it had to be tested, so they snapped their index finger next, revealing the gloves' shield capability — also not as cool as hard-light knuckle knives, but unquestionably handy considering how much more often they found themself being shot at these days. then, finally, they snapped their pinkie finger last and watched in utter bewilderment as a piece of cutlery they'd barely made note of across the table was sucked straight into the palm of their hand. —okay, so that was pretty neat. they definitely found the coolest part of the gloves first, but they couldn't say that had complaints about any of the features. all of them would absolutely be getting use in the future.

although tempted to keep playing with the gloves and all their capabilities, a glance at the note still laying on the table reminded them that they weren't done yet — their knife was still missing, after all. deactivating the gloves' functions with another snap of their fingers, byan dropped the fork back to the table, trading it for the note which they finally turned over. 'where would i put a sword,' huh? now that was an easy one.

ㅤshoving their way through the door to the room which sat next to the gym — the room they liked to think of as the 'sword shed' for all the weapons it housed — the teen flicked the light on and found they didn't have to search very far for their knife. they were, however, drawn to a pause by the sight: the knife pinning the next note to a training dummy's neck, a (very pink) helmet atop its head, and another weapon, one they hadn't seen before, embedded in its chest. this was... a lot more than just the gloves. overwhelming, in a way, as they started to get a better idea of what the point of luring them all the way here was. still, byan padded quietly through the room on socked feet, approaching the dummy and reaching for their small blade. a quick yank was enough to pull it free and, folding it closed, they pocketed it while their eyes slowly scanned over what appeared to be the final note.

despite themself, they couldn't help but smile a little as they read. as they suspected, the items were all intended for them — a convoluted scheme to get them to wear a helmet and mask, he said, but something told them that the whole thing was just as much to give them a gift without them being able to refuse it. ...something they couldn't deny that he'd done a damn good job of, considering how goddamn awesome the gloves were on their own. they might not have been great at accepting gifts given to them with express intent to make them happy, always struggling when handed proof that someone knew and understood them so well, proof that someone cared enough about them to go out of their way to bring them things they'd like, but even they had a hard time saying no when those gifts were sickass weapons.

breathing a soft snort of a laugh through their nose at the comment about the destructive use they were sure to find in the gloves and sword, byan folded the paper once they finished reading and tucked it into their pocket alongside all the notes which came before it, their eyes drawn to the sword sticking out of the dummy's chest. a hand extended toward it, but froze about a half-second later as a more fun idea came to mind. remembering the gloves' magnetic ability, and having already suspected that it might come in handy if they were ever disarmed in a fight, the teen glanced down at their still covered hands with interest. then, after a moment or two of recalling which finger combination did what, they used their thumb and pinkie and held their hand open, outstretched toward the weapon. almost as if it was the full intention behind the design of both pieces of equipment, the sword tore free of the dummy's torso and snapped directly into the palm of their hand, hilt first. fuck, that was awesome. fingers closing around it, byan tested the blade's weight, turning their hand over this way and that, and then gave it a few experimental swings. it certainly held some decent weight, but it was nothing compared to that of ardaka's weapons, which they were unable to hold for more than a few moments, if at all. this one... it was chosen, if not outright made, with them in mind, and they weren't sure how to feel about it.

deciding it easier to not think too much about it right this moment, to focus instead on how cool the thing was, byan found themself with another question in mind: if their suspicion was right, that the gloves and the weapon were meant to work together... did more than just the magnetic ability affect with the sword? maybe it was a silly thought, some wishful thinking, but they couldn't help but to feel like something was off. something about the blade, how lightweight it was in comparison to the hilt, almost seemed like it was missing something, even if it was clearly functional as is. even if it turned out they were wrong, it couldn't hurt to try, right? no one was here to witness it if they only made a fool of themself.

eyeing the sword and giving it some thought, byan activated the gloves so that the hard-light coated their hands again, just to see. lo and behold, it appeared their guess wasn't so out there after all — blinking, they watched as the strange liquid-like substance ran up along the sword's blade and seemingly heated up, far hotter and much more deadly-looking than the hard-light blades of the gloves themselves.

ㅤㅤ" whoa... "ㅤthe display earned a genuine gasp, their eyes shining as they stared on in awe. alright... everything had been cool so far, but this officially took the cake. a few more experimental swings were given, these even more satisfying than the last with the way the blade glowed and how the heat that emanated off of it, and byan couldn't resist — they had to try something a little more with this one, it was too fucking cool to just turn off without a proper test. thus, turning to one of the other nearby training dummies, they squared up against it, pointing the end of the sword at its chest. practically vibrating with all their excited energy but still trying to look cool, even if they were the only one in the room, the teen readied themself and then let loose a violent swing, cleaving the dummy neatly in two. the torso dropped to the floor with a dull thump, and they couldn't contain the broadest, toothiest grin their face was capable of forming as they looked from one piece to the other. it was only then that, in raising the sword again, they caught a glimpse of what appeared to be an inscription. must've been too distracted by the white hot edge of the blade to notice it before, they figured, pulling the weapon closer to their body to inspect. the script looked like it was probably kariian, which felt like the obvious guess, though they certainly couldn't read it themself, much less translate it. curious as to what it might say, but admittedly somewhat afraid to actually ask when they'd see ardaka later — both because they'd rather not acknowledge the gift if they could help it and also out of an odd sort of fear of all the endless possibilities which could potentially hit too close to home in all sorts of ways — byan again decided to put it out of their mind, deactivating the gloves and setting the sword to the side in order to lay their attention on the final piece of this weird but amazing gift: the helmet.

grasping the armor between their hands, they wrenched the helmet off the dummy's head and drew it in for a closer look. unexpectedly, there seemed to be another note attached, drawing byan to an almost hesitant halt as they pulled the paper and the much thicker, almost cardboard material carefully free. ...that seemed intentional, like they weren't supposed to notice it until they went for the helmet. like they were supposed to find it last, like ardaka knew the helmet would be the least interesting item of the three. and to his credit, he was right — even looking at it now, byan could tell that it wasn't as decked out with cool features as the gloves or the sword, it was literally just a helmet with a protective face covering. ...which, okay, yeah, it was probably about time they had one. at least he got it in pink, that way they might be more inclined to wear it. they'd try it on later, though. maybe when they actually needed it.

setting the headgear to rest alongside the sword, the teen's attention shifted once more to the items which had been attached to it, a slightly wary look etched into their features. ...this felt like it was going to be the really meaningful part of the whole thing. the little treasure hunt and the gadgets had all been fun, set up in a very deliberate way to make sure they were enjoyed to the fullest. it was something they appreciated, though they wouldn't say it, because it made it easier for them to follow along without question, without any overwhelming concern that they were going to get slapped in the face at any point by anything emotional or serious. it was an ideal way to give them a gift, and they had to give ardaka credit for it, even if the realization that he knew them well enough to put together such a scheme in the first place was a bit... frightening, in a way. it was a show of how close they'd allowed themself to get, how much they'd allowed themself to be seen. and this, the final piece in it all, was sure to be the one where ardaka finally allowed himself to express his feelings, as he was so fond of doing. oh, he was good; he knew exactly how to do all of this, didn't he? ...it was stupid how nervous they felt, standing there alone in the weapon room, with nothing but a note in their hand. —well, a note and...

drawing in a steady breath, byan flipped the thicker of the two sheets over first, freezing up at the revealed image. it was... them. even the most cursory glance made that much clear, despite the simplicity of the drawing. —it wasn't even simple, it was merely minimalistic, with great care still clearly taken with each line. did he...? —he did. not only did he draw them, a portrait in return for that which they drew of him, but he did it in his own unique style with his own favoured tools: his claws. these were no lines drawn by pens or painted by brushes, there was something too different about them, the ink had flowed off in such a unique way... it had to be his claws. despite themself, despite the tightness in their chest, despite everything, looking the drawing over forced another smile across their lips against their will. he nailed the expression, okay? that was it. it wasn't like they found it really sweet or meaningful or like they planned to display it in their room like they'd noticed he'd done with theirs, or anything! ...there was a pretty good shelf in their closet that they could set it up on though, so they'd see it at least once a day without it being obvious...

clearing their throat, ignoring the uncomfortable tightness that had extended up into it from their chest, byan turned the final final note over and covered the portrait with it so they could stop thinking about that, too. having braced themself for some really mushy, emotional comments about them, about his decision to set up this whole experience for them, and about the gift they had left him several weeks ago, it came as quite a surprise when reading through it... they didn't find it that bad. there was still some weight to it, of course, but nothing nearly so intense as they were expecting. he even balanced it out with a comment about their knives being toothpicks to (playfully) exasperate them, and left a translation for the inscription on the blade so they wouldn't have to ask him in person — and that, too, was far more tame than they had anticipated. if they were to guess, the part of the note written at the bottom in kariian, the one part they couldn't read, was probably the bit with the most emotion in it, which... again, they had to give him credit. if that guess was right, that meant he effectively left them able to maintain their comfortable ignorance, unprepared to handle words too kind or heartfelt, while also being able to express those things as he preferred to. it was clever, and they would be ignoring it for the time being.

he got them. he fucking got them. he figured out the perfect way to give them a gift perfectly tailored to them without having them turn it down and take off, the perfect way to get them to actually accept and (potentially) wear a helmet and/or a mask, and the perfect way to give them something heartfelt, as well as a (presumably) heartfelt note without freaking them out. he was truly a worthy adversary. ...or rather, a worthy friend. or... something closer to family, maybe.ㅤㅤ—maybe.

smile gentler than they'd ever admit to, than they'd ever allow anyone to see, byan kept the last note neat and flat against the portrait beneath it and proceeded to collect both the helmet and the sword. although they had the full intention of coming back to mess around a little more seriously with the gloves and the blade in a while, they wanted to tuck everything else safely away first. —so that if ardaka came in later, he wouldn't see it all still there and comment on it, obviously! not because they wanted to keep it safe, or anything!! ...but also maybe so they could finally get that cup of coffee and have a few minutes to process the strange and somewhat overwhelming morning they'd had before they started stabbing and cutting more dummies in half.

ㅤwhen they left the room, items bunched together carefully in their arms, it was on light feet, hair bouncing with each step, and a warm, happy smile still firmly intact.