you have to keep your eyes open. [ian]

Ian
Saturday afternoon Ian was set to meet Kiara in Boulder. The company was Mile-Hi Skydiving, a group he'd never used before but which seemed to have a lot of good word-of-mouth. They'd be taking off from a small private air-strip, which was where Ian was presently parked, leaning against the side of his car as he waited for Kiara to arrive. The plane they were meant to board was being checked and fueled behind him. A handful of other people had shown up and were busy chatting with the instructors. The air around them had a spark of anticipatory adrenaline. Some of them paced around or fidgeted as they stood, eager to be taking off (eager to feel the wind on their face as they jumped.)

The weather was bright and warm, with clear blue skies stretching out into the horizon. It was a good day to go skydiving.

KiaraIt doesn't take long for the brunette's little red hatchback to appear.

A speck at first; dust kicking up in a cloud behind it and then growing larger until Ian and the others gathered could glimpse the driver; a pair of large sunglasses keeping the afternoon glare out of the woman's eyes as she pulled neatly into a park a few rows down from Ian's car. Kiara's was dust-smeared; there was dried mud where it had been thrown up against her back tires; the windows lightly coated in it.

Old, peeling stickers decorated her back window and when she climbed out, it was with a faint creaking of the mechanism in the door.

-

Kiara was dressed casually, at least, for her. Tennis shoes, jeans and a soft cotton shirt; her arms and neck free of the familiar accompaniment of silver. Her dark hair had been drawn up and away from her shoulders and wound its way down her back in a ponytail. With her sunglasses on, it was mostly her mouth that offered any indication of her mood, the edging of it upward as she approached the others.

In line with policy, she'd foregone any accessories save a drivers license tucked into a back pocket and the keys laced around her fingers as she wound her way through the small throng of waiting divers to Ian, leaning against his car, slightly apart from the rest of the group.

"Nice day for leaping out of a moving aircraft." This, Kiara's greeting as she approaches; takes up a spot just shy of him against his car. Smiles at him from behind her sunglasses. "You ready for this?"

Ian"I think I can handle it." Ian's reply was deliberately cryptic, and it was difficult to tell by his tone whether he meant it seriously. He backed it up with a tilt of his head and a slight arch of his eyebrow. They'd never actually discussed whether he'd been skydiving previously - though one would assume he'd at least gone through the proper training in order to book their reservation. Kiara, of course, was no stranger to jumping out of airplanes. Perhaps that was why Ian thought to invite her. (He remembered these things.)

His car was noticeably cleaner than Kiara's - shiny and sleek from a recent wash. She'd never actually seen it looking anything less than perfectly maintained, which probably said something about Ian's priorities (or his perfectionism.) His eyes traveled over her shoulder for a moment to glance at the hood, as though the light pooling off the black paint attracted his gaze - though there was something faintly suggestive about it. (Remembering.)

Ian was dressed as casually as Kiara was, in jeans and a black t-shirt. His phone was left charging in the car, tucked away out of direct sunlight. After a moment, he stepped in front of Kiara and leaned forward to rest his hands on the hood on either side of her shoulders. "It is a nice day," he conceded, but he was looking at her and not the sky. His gaze traced down from her eyes to her lips.

When he kissed her, the act was slow and relishing - a contrast to the heady excitement of the afternoon. But when he pulled away, his teeth grazed her lower lip, and there was a spark of challenge in his eyes.

"Let's go."

KiaraIt was somehow entirely fitting that his car would be so. Polished and pristine; offering the world no hint of damage, no dents or cracks in the windshield. Whatever might have been going on beneath the paint job, the exterior was perfectly manicured. Could their cars really be that directly a manifestation of their projected selves and if so - what did it say that the Verbena's was in dire need of repair? It would limp to the finish, much like it's owner, no doubt.

Its owner who was watching him and lifting her sunglasses up to rest on top of her head, her dark eyes bright in the afternoon sunshine. He can handle it, he offers and Kiara makes a faint noise of agreement, turning her body in concert with his as he leans in to brace his hands on the hood either side of her. The entrapment draws a slower, far more satisfied expression from her and she watches him as he leans in to kiss her; her mouth a smile against his before her lips part and she curls a hand around a bicep.

The hint of teeth, the air of challenge posed by the public display leaves her regarding him with a bright, focused look for a beat afterwards, her thumb straying upward to wipe the traces of her lipstick from his lower lip; the smear of red on her fingers vivid. "Suit up and show me what you've got." A cocked eyebrow, she slides out from around him with a purposely adopted strut and moves to join the group of divers, focused as the instructors begin to run through security measures.

Behind them, the door to the plane is opened and the twin engines crank into life as jumpers zip themselves into suits; last minute precautionary checks made; clamps re-tightened; belts forcefully drawn in snug against bodies. It's a surprisingly small space inside; harnesses and rigging hang from the sides of the plane and two pilots sit with their backs to the boarding customers making their own set of alterations before they lift off the airstrip.

It's once they're settled on board; Kiara's sunglasses tucked away; her long fingers snapping her belt in place that the exhilaration seems to hit her. The jangling anticipation registers in the way she holds herself, fingers curled against her thighs; knee moving in impatient rhythm. She leans close to him to be heard over the hum of the engines. "Whatever you do, don't close your eyes when you jump."

She's looking at him when she says it, but her eyes shift to the nervous first timers across from them. "You have to keep your eyes open." Her gaze shifts back to him. "There's no other way."

IanIt was a familiar game between the two of them by now, this back-and-forth challenge. Perhaps easier and more comfortable, in its strange way, than some of the other moments they'd shared. But Ian, for all his lack of nervous energy, seemed pleased to be there with her. Whether that was due mostly to the nature of their adventure (one did not get chances to jump out of planes all that often,) or to Kiara's own presence was anyone's guess, but likely it was a combination of the two. The group of them suited up, cinching and double-checking their parachutes. Ian rolled his neck a little as he waited for his turn to board the plane, checking the sky periodically as though in anticipation. He seemed remarkably calm, considering what they were about to do.

It wasn't until they were seated that Kiara's excitement started to show. Ian glanced over when he felt her body go tight and alert next to him, smiling a little at the way her knees refused to sit still. She was hardly the only one. Some of the other passengers were speaking to each other in raised, excited voices over the drone of the engines. Others looked as though they were already having second doubts.

"Of course," he replied, grinning broadly, as though any other option had not even occurred to him. Then one of the instructors shut the door to the aircraft, and the plane began to move out onto the strip. It seemed to take far too long for them to take off, but finally they sped down the runway and lifted up into the air.

It was loud in the cabin. The metal body of the aircraft hummed and shuddered as they gained altitude. After a while, the steepness of their ascent evened out to a more relaxed incline.

"You two look like you've done this before." The voice was from a man seated in the row behind them. Ian glanced over his shoulder, considered his response for a moment, then replied, "Once."

Which was, in fact, the truth.

Eventually (it didn't take that long really, but for those waiting in tense anticipation aboard the plane, time was a rather subjective thing) they reached the proper altitude for their jump.  The instructors gave the signal, and the passengers began to unsnap their belts and stand up. Ian made a final check of his gear to make sure everything held securely.

When they opened the door, cold air and bright sunlight rushed in.

"Who wants to go first?" shouted the male instructor, grinning with quiet challenge. Ian took two deep, quick breaths and grasped Kiara's hand. There was brief pressure as he squeezed his grip. When he stepped forward, he nodded to the instructor. Then he found himself gazing down into miles of open air. Just before he jumped, he let go of Kiara's hand.

Then he dove out into empty space.

[Forces 2, because there's no way he's doing this without stretching his wings a little. Coincidental (barely) diff 5 -1 (elegant resonance totally applies)]

Dice: 3 d10 TN4 (5, 5, 7) ( success x 4 ) [WP]

KiaraThe last time Kiara had done this, there'd been one first timer who didn't jump.

Who had sat, stiff and uncertain as the plane gained altitude and finally, with the door thrown wide and wind howling through the cargo hold; shaken their head and backed away from all that open air beneath them looking shaky and wide eyed. The Verbena had turned to regard them before she'd jumped; the ferocity of the wind buffeting her; wrapping her hair around her neck and flattening it there.

She remembered the fear, the way it distorted their features, pinched their mouth; dilated their pupils.

It's there on some of the faces as they rise to their feet and the door slides back, the sunlight slicing across the windows; rattling the seats, the spare parachutes hung from packs along the sides of the hold. The pagan can feel the sheer force of the wind pushing against her body; warping and navigating around the blockade she poses to its entry into the metal body of the interior. Ian's hand touching hers draws her eyes to his face; she's not smiling anymore but seems calmer for the impending descent.

She curls her fingers around his hand and returns the brief pressure; her hand surprisingly warm for the higher altitude.

Kiara moves closer to the door in tandem with him and this close, the noise from the engines is deafening. The Verbena breathes in sharply. Ian lets go of her hand just before he jumps and she watches him; sees the rapidly dwindling shape of his body as it twists and turns in the air.

"You're next," the instructor yelled close to her ear and the brunette cast him a smile; her fingers braced on the doorframe for a beat; she drinks in the sight of it; the mountains framing the horizon in the distance, the flat rolling expanse of land below them; tiny specs of trees and roads and rivers all bisecting one another; the patchwork of the world below is opened up and when she lets go this time; it's with her arms flung wide.

The air torn from her lungs and the dizzying spiral as gravity takes hold and pulls her down; as surely as if she were magnetized.

True to her word, she doesn't close her eyes, Kiara. They're wide open as she plummets and her arms stay stretched out - too long. She's on the precipice; the threshold between a graceful landing and a broken limb before her fingers move to grasp the cord; before she yanks it and a jolt beneath her navel accompanies the abrupt halt to her descend; the parachute opening behind her as she begins to glide.

It's not until she's drifting that she searches for the others; that she locates Ian. She can feel him; the potency of his Working; the certainty of his proximity.

It's when she's no longer free falling that Kiara does, finally, close her eyes and turn her face toward the sunlight.

IanThe pull of gravity was an inexorable force. Despite his reserved nature, Ian was not unaffected by things like fear and excitement. There'd been those small indicators just before he jumped: the sudden need for breath, the pressure of his grip. But when he jumped, he let the fear go. Let the wind and the gravity and the kinetic force of his fall wash over him. It was as close to flying as most mortal humans were likely to get. They were not born with wings, and so this act was one of sheer, unapologetic defiance.

The fall itself became the ritual. The wind, the rapid-fire racing of his heart. Ian tucked his arms tight to his body and shot down through the clouds. There were Forces all around him, and he caught at them with his Will, guiding the speed and trajectory of his descent in ways the other divers - even the most experienced among them - could not. Kiara, behind him with her open eyes, would catch the first glimpse of his dark form as it spun and rocketed through the air. He put out his arms and legs to slow his descent, soaring in a wide circle, then tucked his body straight again and shot forward, spinning in a cork-screw spiral. His nerves were humming like a tuning fork; his blood racing with the intense speed of exhilaration. And yes, his eyes were open. Finally, he opened his mouth and howled into the wind.

At the end he flipped into a somersault and stretched out his arms. As the nearness of the ground became more immediate, he pulled the cord on his chute. It lurched him backward for a moment before settling into a drifting descent. Beneath him, a stretched field of grass grew steadily more detailed as he pulled in for a landing.

When his feet hit the ground, it was only slightly jarring. He ran a couple of steps to slow his momentum, then turned to unhook his parachute. His breath was still coming hard and fast as he looked up to the sky to watch Kiara's own descent. Soon enough she joined him on the ground, and when she did he ran toward her like a thunderbolt, grabbed her by the waist and spun her around, shouting a triumphant sound into the air. Unless she put up some obvious protest, he'd drag her tumbling down to the grass with him.

KiaraThey touch down gradually, drifting down to the flat grassy field like leaves stirred and left to resettle where they would by the wind. There's only so much navigation offered when you have a parachute attached and she lands a good distance from the others; her chute fluttering and snapping behind her; buckles jangling together as she jogs to a halt and reaches to snap off the harness points.

Around her, there's voices as the others reach land; cheering and laughter and the distant smattering of applause from those who had gathered below to watch the latest batch of divers take their jumps. The last buckle is barely undone when she's grabbed around the waist and spun - her parachute fluttering harmlessly to the ground in her wake - by the force of Ian's exuberance. He's thrumming with exhilaration and there's a shout - and Kiara's laughter accompanying it - as they collapse into a heap beside her chute; the long, wild grass pillowing their bodies enough that it's barely felt when they connect and roll around in a heap of buckles and straps and lingering adrenaline.

She kisses him, then. In the moment, while they're both still breathing fast and uneven and she's smelling like sweat and sunshine and the faint aftertaste of peppermint toothpaste she'd used before she'd driven out to meet him. She captures and cups his face and kisses him with the sort of searing claim he's grown to expect from her. Kiara pulling back to stare down at him with that same subtle, satisfied smile on her face before she rolls off him.

Settles on her back beside him; her body bracketed by a clump of grass; cheeks pink from the rush and wild and her mouth faintly tingling.

"You were dancing up there." She turns her face toward him; her hair coming loose from its bindings; it frames her face in wild strands. "How did it feel?"

IanIan sucked in a breath when Kiara kissed him, just enough to fuel his lungs before she claimed his mouth completely. His hands slid around her waist and up the back of her jumpsuit. Everything about the moment was wild and messy, but he didn’t seem to mind. When she slid away he laughed softly, adrenaline lingering in his voice. He traced the edge of his tongue over his lower lip as though he could still taste her.

How did it feel?

“Unbound.”

Above them, the sun was high and bright. Ian could feel the heat of it baking into his skin. He sat up and began to remove his gear, unzipping the front of his suit so he could pull his arms free. A couple of boisterous 20-somethings were hugging each other nearby. One of them, in his enthusiasm, pointed at Ian and Kiara and shouted, “That was fucking awesome!”

Ian just laughed. He got to his feet and finished extricating himself from his jumpsuit, running a hand through his wind-swept hair. For a moment he closed his eyes and laced his hands behind his head, tilting his face toward the sun. Each breath he took was deep and measured, until finally his heart seemed to grow calmer in his chest.

“I should do this more.” He looked at Kiara, watching her as though she was some fixed point of interest. His hands dropped back to his sides.

“We should do this more.”

KiaraShe stays on the ground watching him when he begins to untangle himself from his gear; rolling onto her side and leaning on an elbow. The warmth of the afternoon was soaking into their skin and the Verbena extends one hand out, over the blades of grass that had been ruffled and half crushed by Ian's weight. Skims the tips of her fingers over them, feels the edges of each tickle her palm.

Nearby the adrenaline is still pumping for some of them; whooping and hugging and throwing their fists in the air with declarations of we're going again, man and holy shit, I can't believe we did that. It draws a smile from Kiara where she lays with her fingers teasing the earth beneath it. This twitching amusement at the way reconnection with what it meant to be alive could infuse someone with the greatest ambition known to man - at least for half an hour afterwards.

Still - she smiles but stays quiet. Stays down with the warm; summer scented grass until Ian's eyes were back on her. Kiara with her dark hair driven half wild by the elements, surrounded by nature. Looking across at him with an unreadable expression in the moment as he says he should do this more often. Jump out of planes.

Remind himself what it was to be unbound.

There's a kind of heady intoxication about it, the idea of giving yourself over to an extent to the whims of natural law. Nature's law; whether you fell or soared. We invokes the faintest of smiles, edging at the corner of her mouth, there's something vaguely challenging to it. Her expression, the way her eyes look, she looks, down there, laid out like she's one of those deities she claims belief in. "Would you like that?" She sits up, then. Starts pulling her own jumpsuit off as the voices near them begin to grow fainter, the others in their group moving across the field.

Gets to her feet and brushes her hands off. Her question, the way she asks. It's overlayed with other things, too. Genuine interest. Surprise, maybe, that it's offered. She pulls the tie out of her hair and lets it loose over her shoulders, feels the breeze pick instantly at the layers of it as she moves closer to him; dragging the suit over her legs, stepping out of it.

She straightens, the Verbena, casts her eyes out over the field around them. "Want to walk around a little before we head in?"

IanOther kinds of people might have had this conversation earlier, but Ian and Kiara were not those kinds of people. Ian didn't seem to think much past the words themselves as they left his lips. Blame it on the adrenaline, maybe. The inspiration (honesty?) of the moment. He didn't think about it until Kiara looked at him the way she did and said, Would you like that?

There was a delay in his response - another measured breath as he looked at her. "Wouldn't have said it if I didn't want to." He lifted an eyebrow just slightly - answering her challenge with one of his own. Kiara suggested they take a walk. Ian glanced over his shoulder toward where the few remaining instructors were rolling up the deployed parachutes. They seemed to have everything pretty well in hand. "Sure. I don't really feel like sitting in a car right now."

He stepped closer to Kiara, reaching out  to run his fingers down the length of her forearm. The touch was light - barely more than a quick brush of contact before he broke away and jogged a few paces ahead. He slowed to a walk when he turned around, moving backwards at a relaxed, agile pace.

"So besides jumping out of airplanes, what other things does Kiara Woolfe like to do?"

KiaraShe pushes. It's a habit borne perhaps as much out of self protection as anything. Throws down the gauntlet; the question; back at the asker as if she means to scorn it.

There have undoubtedly been times she has. There have been others, other men and women that have been caught in the gravity of Kiara Woolfe's life who walked away from it. The implied challenge to so many of the conversations that mattered. The degree of work it took to pierce her walls and see anything of the person behind the gleaming looks and sharp, inviting smiles.

She's also hardly the first and won't be the last of their kind, of the Awakened, as possessing of the amazing capacity to bend the rules of reality as they are, that's rather irrecoverably damaged.

Ian pushes back. Answers the challenge with one of his own and she drops the hand she'd raised over her eyes to block the glare from the afternoon sunshine and looks at him for a beat. Maybe she'd expected a refusal, there's certainly a fleeting glimpse of something suggestive of surprise before they fall into sync together; their progress relatively easy for the largely flat field they'd landed in. The mountains loomed in the distance; trees dotting the far reaches of the clearing; here and there tiny shoots of weed and wild flower dared to hope amongst the long grass.

She seems to relax far better for their surroundings, Kiara. Feels Ian run his fingertips over her skin before he jogs out ahead of her leisurely pace; turning to walk with his back to any potential footfalls. "Are you writing a cheatsheet for how to stay on my good side?" Her eyebrow wings up, the edge of a shoulder, too. "When I'm not working - " She directs him a look, a little remembered challenging smirk. " - rejuvenating souls, I run. I visit the botanical gardens. I hang out with friends."

A beat, she steps around a small indent in the earth where soil's been kicked up. "I was actually out seeing two of them the other night. Neal and Debra. They have a property out near Morrison. They're good people. I go out there sometimes to gatherings. You can see the stars out there a whole lot better than you can in the city." She cuts Ian a look, dropping her eyes to the path she's eking with every step.

"Debra. She's pregnant. They've been trying for a long time. It's been a difficult pregnancy. Neal calls me out there sometimes." The brunette's expression turns thoughtful. "I think he's terrified." Kiara mouth turns down a little.

"I think sometimes I envy them."

IanIan did turn around, eventually. Exhaled a brief laugh when she asked if he was making a cheat sheet and casually pivoted on his heel, slowing his pace until they walked side by side. He didn't answer the question, but there was a glance shot over his shoulder that registered as self-assured. His mouth lifted into a grin when she made that little call-back to their first encounter.

Ian didn't look down much as he walked. His eyes traveled between Kiara's face and the stretch of the landscape around them, gazing up at the rolling peaks of the mountains. He always seemed to have a preternatural sense for where to step - that lingering note of feline grace that inhabited the way he moved. His footsteps were quiet, too. Subtle brushes of grass against his ankles. The further they drifted away from the others, the more at-home he seemed in their surroundings. Kiara was like that too. The natural world embraced her.

(Not that either of them were especially out of place in the city.)

Ian's expression turned inward when she mentioned Debra's pregnancy, and for a moment then he did glance down, eyes dark and brows drawn.

I think sometimes I envy them.

"Why?"

It was a weighted question.

Kiara"I can put my hand on Debra's stomach and feel her baby's heart beating." There's a pause, Kiara's looking out over the field in front of them, her dark hair falling over her shoulders, when she drops her head down for a moment it slides forward over her face, concealing her expression from him. "But I can also feel any sickness. And weaknesses. I can make her baby strong. I can help her get through her pregnancy.

And I have. And I'll never tell them that."

She turns to face him, sets her fingers on his wrist. "But was that my right? Just because I could, does that mean I should have? There's a saying they teach us. If it doesn't harm them, do as you will." Kiara's eyes search his face, she puts her other hand over his chest; over his heart. She can feel the warmth of his skin underneath the scant layer of material. Her focus drops to it, the edge of her mouth shifting a little for the sensation of it beating under skin and muscle and bone.

"I don't know. I just know that they'll have a kid and they'll grow up and probably never have a clue." She rubs her thumb back and forth across the fabric of his shirt, drops her hand away after a beat, expression uncertain. "That will never be my life. Not since - " She breathes out, once. A little sharp. A little edged with wry awareness.

"Not like that, anyway."

IanThere was a sense perhaps that Ian was not wholly comfortable talking about things like family and children and pregnancy. These small shifts in his expression and body language. Looking down. Tucking his thumbs into his pockets. Hunching his shoulders a little. But he listened while Kiara spoke, and he raised his gaze to meet hers briefly. When she touched his chest, he slowed his pace. The t-shirt he wore was a thin black cotton v-neck, stretched tight over his torso. Beneath it, his heart beat strong and steady behind the cage of his ribs.

"Would you want it to be?" The tone of his voice was layered with a complicated mix of emotion. "I can't even imagine that kind of life."

They were nearing the trees. A sharp, woody note of pine resin hung in the air. When he was close enough, Ian passed his hand over the soft prickle of needles hanging beside him. "You weren't wrong to help them."

Kiara"No."

She shoots him a smile. "A white picket fence and weekends in the Hamptons? Not my style. That's my parents world. I turned my back on that a long time ago, but - " She lifts a shoulder, breathes the scent of the trees into her lungs, her mouth an expressive squiggle of acknowledgement. " - I envy that they're happy with it." She stills a little when he tells her she wasn't wrong to help them. Carves another breath out of her throat and runs her fingers over the tips of the pine needles in mirror of him.

"Yeah. I hope so."

Reaches out to touch him, ghosting a hand over his shoulder; skimming the tips of her fingers down to his wrist. "You should invite me to see you dance. Properly, that is." There again in Kiara's voice is the implied challenge; the cant of her eyes on him; the way she keeps herself planted firmly in his space, her fingers edging against the turn of his palm. Not quite taking his hand but - the suggestion of it is there; the idea that she could.

Kiara Woolfe might just have been the only person capable (or daring enough) to invite herself into someone's life with very little fuss.

"Since we're trading insights into each other's lives, I think it's only fair."

IanHe stilled when she touched his shoulder, stopping to watch the play of emotion across her face. There was something in his eyes then - this soft recognition. Whatever the joys in their lives - both fleeting and powerful - there was little room in it for contentment. Perhaps that was the price of being Awake. Perhaps it was a journey they each needed to make on their own.

Kiara's fingers touched his wrist. His palm. Almost but not quite taking his hand. Ian turned his palm toward her, sliding his fingers between her own. The caress of his touch was feather-light - not grasping so much as exploring.

She wanted to see him dance. His answer to that was to meet her eyes for a long moment, lift his hands to cup the back of her head, and kiss her. The force of it was slow, the press of his lips at first barely a graze of open breath before he claimed her mouth properly. He let the kiss go on a long time, until the magnetic draw of Kiara's body drew him closer. When their hips met, he pulled back a little and said, "I'll send you a ticket."

KiaraThey've navigated half the length of the field they landed in by the point they reach the treeline where they stand. It's cooler in the shade of the pines, beyond them the terrain becomes less certain, a shadowy wilderness of undergrowth and fallen logs, birds calling in the treetops. Their instructor has nearly collected all the parachutes across the clearing; the others gathering together now that the exhilaration of the jump is dying down.

When Ian cups her face and kisses her; Kiara doesn't bend into it so much as she accepts it; her yielding comes in the quiet way she breathes in during it; the noise she makes as her fingers find his shoulders; slide over the line of his back. There's a certain way she maps it; the curvature of his spine; a particular awareness and intimacy. That she could name each vertebrae as her fingers ghost over them.

Knows the way they function, how utterly fallible the human body can be.

They draw close; he breaks off and her eyes are very dark where they open on his face; the pulse beating wild and fast at the base of her neck. He'll send her a ticket.

The corner of her mouth curves.

There's a shout from across the field that might have been in their direction, a gesture to come back as a small bus rambles into view with the company's logo on the side doors; spent parachutes bundled into the back of it and Kiara's focus shifts to it, she brushes against him as she moves past, her fingers grazing his one last time.

"Come on, I'll race you back."