the son. [kalen] [silver crown SL]

Kiara
[Int + Investigation. Oh right, you can LOOK PEOPLE UP without resorting to magick.]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (8, 9, 10, 10) ( success x 4 )

Kalen[Int+Investigation]

Dice: 4 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 8, 9) ( success x 2 )

The SeaTurns out it doesn't take much effort to locate someone on an island as small as Moloka'i. And Haoa, as it happens, is not an unknown figure on the island. Typing his name into Google reveals a handful of articles about the local preserves that mention him by name. Over his long career, Haoa Ka'ana'ana has fought hard to preserve the natural landscape of the island, making more than a few enemies among the corporation that owns Moloka'i Ranch. He was one of the instrumental voices involved in shutting down the ranch's attempt to branch out into the hospitality and tourism industry (for better or worse.)

These days, of course, he's retired. After some digging, Kiara is able to find a listed address and phone number under his name. The house is on the island's East coast, near the Moloka'i Forest Reserve.

They could call ahead, or they could drive out and surprise him. Either way, they know their destination.

KiaraIt had been evening by the time they found their way back to the shore and Kiara's entire body had ached relentlessly. She'd worked to push back the worst of her muscles protests so they could begin their search for Ali'ikai's son on Moloka'i that night.

The Verbena settled back against a myriad of pillows in their rented accommodation with a laptop open on the bed before her; dark hair pinned up in the warmth of the evening air and an open window letting in the sights and sounds of the island at dusk. All said, it takes Kiara until the following day to unearth an address and number for Haoa Ka'ana'ana. She scribbles it down on a notepad, the Verbena and then rises and stretches out her muscles, padding to the window to take in the slanting rays of the sun, the way it dapples when it hits the water.

When (if) Kalen leaves and returns while the brunette does her digging, he comes back to find Kiara in a vibrant sundress; her shoulders bare and sun-kissed; the swirling pattern of greens and reds and blues somehow only working to highlight the Verbena's presence, the way she feels like a heady reminder of the world around them; the verdant wilderness of the island itself.

Her dark hair damp and tied back from her face in a haphazard knot.

"I think I've tracked our guy down." She taps her pen against the paper. "I've got an address and a number." Kiara's brows lift. "Feel like going on a field trip?"

KalenKalen is quiet on the way back to shore, attention caught in places that are not here and not now.  There is a mythic stone to get, a man to find, a mythic crown to perhaps unmake, and a witch at the bottom of the sea about to trade with them the only thing she has left of her mother.  He cannot do for her what he wants to do; still, he knows who can.  And, as she has acquiesced to so many of his requests already, he expects that this one she will also.  For now, though, he finds something else for Ali'ikai.  In case he cannot come back here with what he plans to.

Kiara is working and Kalen lets her work.  Opens a bottle of wine and offers to bring her a glass and then disappears again, out onto the lanai with some wine and a book of poems.  Again, he spends the night out there with the starlight on the sea.

When he gets dressed in the morning he is less dramatic than Kiara; almost always less dramatic than Kiara when it comes to how they look.  Blue jeans and a white shirt and a knotted bracelet with dark cord framing pale, shimmering pearls.  He is only fractionally less pale from his time in the sun.

"Of course," he says.  "Coffee on the way?"

The SeaFeel like going on a field trip?

Of course. Coffee on the way?

Whether coffee is part of their plan or no, Kalen and Kiara take their rented vehicle and head out to the East end of the island. The drive is pleasant and calm. The island today is as picturesque as ever, warm and bright and teeming with both local and imported flora. If they ride with the windows down, they'll hear the sound of local birds calling to each other on the beach. There are people as well, of course. Locals sitting in fold-out chairs on the decks of their small homes or walking along the side of the road. Many of them smile and wave when Kiara and Kalen pass by.

The island is small enough that finding Haoa's address on a map is a relatively simple affair. And sure enough, when they arrive at their destination - a small but pretty 2-bedroom beach house, the name on the mailbox reads: Ka'ana'ana.

There is one car (an old Jeep) and one scooter in the driveway.

KiaraKiara rests an arm on the window on the drive over, a pair of over-sized sunglasses obscuring much of the brunette's features from the locals, though her smile is pleasant enough where it's canted in their direction as they pass here and there.

Her glasses reflecting the scattering of homes and vibrant, tropical plant life as they wind their way across the island toward their destination, her hair drying rapidly into a wavy mass as the breeze played in the loose strands left liberated at the nape of her neck, a few escaping her knot to stir in wild abandonment around her face.

Her familiar silver necklace gleaming in the sunshine where it rested, the pendant tucked beneath the vee of her dress. There were take away coffee cups stowed in the holder (it had, apparently, been part of the plan after all) and for much of the drive over, she's seemingly content to watch the landscape passing by them, idly commenting here and there on some landmark, or pointing out a particularly gorgeous vantage point of the water.

When they pull up outside of the beach house, the Verbena is the first to climb out, carefully closing her door and lifting a hand to squint into the distance. She cuts Kalen a look across the car that may have passed for how do we want to approach this before she slings her bag over a shoulder and begins to approach, carefully reaching out with her senses to get a feel for the who (and what) might be present.

It couldn't hurt to be prepared, even if Haoa was (in theory) entirely human.

Kiara[Life 1/Mind 1: Knock knock, anyone home? Base Diff 4, Coincidental, -1 for Foci]

Dice: 3 d10 TN3 (1, 9, 9) ( success x 2 )

Kiara[Adding in Corr 1 and extending. Get your perceptions on, Ms Woolfe.]

Dice: 3 d10 TN4 (2, 2, 2) ( fail )

Kiara[Kiara, you do this to me EVERY TIME. Just ... be cool. Kalen's judging you.]

Dice: 3 d10 TN5 (2, 6, 9) ( success x 3 ) [WP]

The SeaThere are two human patterns inside the house. One is likely Haoa: male and elderly, somewhere close to 80 years old. The other is young and also male, around 19-21. The older man is somewhere in the back of the house, sleeping. The younger one is moving about in one of the rooms. From her mind scan, Kiara can tell that he's in a good mood, and possibly listening to music.

There are a number of plants inside, as well as an old parrot who is presently consuming its breakfast. Other than that? Nothing tremendously surprising or worrisome.

KalenKalen is certainly not oblivious to the fact that they are on a beautiful tropical island.  He is not oblivious to the fact that Kiara is gorgeous, perhaps even more so here framed by life and the sea spray and the tropical sun.  Even so, he is less evidently pleased with this place; particularly for someone who has seen him reach out to a sea witch with an awed kind of wonder.

He drives them to get coffee and past people who smile and who wave; eventually, by the time they have reached the home of Haoa Ka'ana'ana, he is smiling back.  Less wide, less open; but Kalen is not overly prone to expressing welcome or joy in such a fashion.  (For that you have to watch his eyes.)  The way that people exchange leis though, that fascinates him.  The meaning of Aloha.  Not that superficial 'hello, goodbye, I love you' explanation for the tourists.  The real one.

"I think I am at a loss here," Kalen says softly to Kiara.  "I cannot imagine what it would be like if my mother wanted me to come and see her at the bottom of the sea.  My mother, after all, couldn't be bothered to want to see me when it would have been so easy as walking into the next room.  This is...not a thing I understand at all."  There is, perhaps, some regret there.  Not so much sorrow.  Kalen is well beyond mourning his loss of a mother.

KiaraKiara does something ... vaguely odd, en route to the house's mailbox. Or, perhaps, odd was a relative descriptor but certainly very singular to the sort of Awakened she was. She drops down to her haunches as if she were studying something she'd noticed underfoot and reaches into her bag, closer approach (and the familiar sensation of casting in the air) revealed she was tracing along the ground with a small piece of chalk, her other hand curled around the pendant and her face tipped up and slightly to the side as if she were listening attentively to something.

The shape she's drawn was the rough approximation of a pentagram; she pushes herself to her feet after a beat and carefully runs the toe of a sandal through the figure; obliterating it and tucking the chalk away. Her sunglasses are lifted up.

"I can sense two men inside. One of them feels ... older, maybe in his eighties or nineties. That must be Haoa. There's another person, too. Younger." She casts a curious look toward the house. "Maybe a son." A moment, then, as Kalen offers his thoughts. Kiara's expression isn't easily read for a beat as she studies his face. "Well, she did say he knew what she was, so maybe it won't be a total shock. To him, at least."

Kiara's eyes returned to the door.

"Family never tends to be easy. Even without the complication of an ocean." A tiny quirk of the Verbena's mouth as she starts forward, again. She knocks on the door and takes a minute to unpin her hair; shaking it loose and tousling it into a wild display that falls around her bare shoulders; her sunglasses are tucked into the vee of her dress.

She spares a sidelong glance at Kalen and a single eyebrow notches up, just a touch.

KalenKalen's head cocks just slightly to one side as Kiara explains the people she senses inside.  "Were you planning to tell them both?"  There is a brief, faint smile.  "Though, I suppose, I am hardly the very model of discretion in all moments."

There is no real response to the assertion that family is complicated even without oceans for a few seconds.  And then, quietly, "at the very least complicated means this should be interesting."

Even so, Kiara may get the feeling that behind the calm enough tones and steady enough presence that Kalen might rather be trying to handle a sea witch and some dire sharks than an elderly man and his...son?  Grandson?  Housekeeper?

The SeaIt takes a moment for someone to answer the door. Inside the house, there's a muted thump (as though something dropped, or someone ran into something) and Kiara, with her senses active, will sense a brief flash of pain coming from the young man inside. Nothing serious - just a stubbed toe.

It gives Kalen and Kiara a moment to discuss the complicated nature of family. And to decide whether they intend to deliver their message to Haoa alone. Then the latch in the door turns, and the two of them find themselves gazing up at a very fit and very tall young man. His hair is dark and wavy, his skin boasting a deep tan, but unlike his (great?) grandmother, his eyes are blue. There's a little moment of surprise when the young man regards them. He doesn't seem displeased, just uncertain of who they are. His eyes dance over Kalen briefly before landing with a significantly longer beat of fixed attention on Kiara.

"Hey. Something I can help you with?"

The man is shirtless and barefoot and wearing a pair of red board shorts. There are earbuds hanging around his neck. A tinny echo of loud music seeps into the air, emanating from the tiny speakers.

Kiara"Not unless we don't have a choice," Kiara murmurs back before the door opens and her attention (and a rather deliberate, toothy smile) are focused on the bare chested young man who greets them with what she can only assume is the typical response of someone when a pair of strangers turned up on their doorstep apropos of nothing.

In the climate, the Verbena has foregone much of her usual dramatic make up save for a faint application of mascara and blush on her cheekbones, her dark eyes seem to radiate a keen interest in the young man. She doesn't go as far as to drop her eyes over his body, but she does take a minute to deliberately push the heavy fall over her hair over a shoulder.

"Hi, we're hoping so. Is this the home of Haoa Ka'ana'ana?"

There's a certain way Kiara pronounces the name that speaks of uncertainty with it, a tentative flutter of apology that curls the edges of her mouth as if in clear recognition she'd made a mess of his relation's name. "We're not selling anything," she rushes to add, the Verbena, before the young man can (potentially) protest (or close the door on them).

"We were just hoping to speak with him." She exchanges a look with Kalen, gesturing between them before she offers a hand out. "I'm Kiara and this is my friend, Elliott."

KalenAnd the young man is more obviously not oblivious to Kiara.  Kalen breathes out softly.  Just this once, it might be nice to let go of a situation long enough to see how someone else approaches it.  And it is hardly as though Kiara cannot speak.

He offers the young man a quick smile.  "Hey," he says.  Beyond that though, at least for now, he lets the young man settle his attention on Kiara and leaves the speaking to her.

The SeaKiara makes an effort to assure the young man that they aren't there to sell him anything, though judging by the fairly rapt attention Kiara is receiving from him, he might very well be just as happy to stand there and listen to her try to pitch him something. He nods amiably when she asks if she has the right house. "Yeah yeah." If she botches the pronunciation at all, he doesn't bother correcting her. "Oh, sure. Um, are you friends of his?"

He tosses his head back and bellows across the house. "Hey Pops, wake up! You've got visitors!" Nearby, the parrot echoes the sound with a brief, raucous cry. In the back of the house, Kiara can sense the old man stir and rouse himself into groggy wakefulness.

"I'm Jake. Nice to meet you." Jake grins and offers a hand to Kalen, then Kiara. Once introductions are through, he steps away from the door and makes a lazy gesture toward the living room. "Come in if you want. He'll just be a minute."

When they step inside, they'll catch a brief glimpse of the parrot - a Blue and Gold Macaw - sitting in a cage near a window in the kitchen before Jake ushers them into the living area. There's an old sofa in the room, its fabric decorated in a faded floral motif. There's also a TV set that looks as though it might have come out of the 1980's. A number of the surfaces in the room are decorated with potted orchids. Someone (likely not Jake, though one never knows) has taken very good care of them.

Kiara
Given what she did professionally it's probably not entirely surprising that Kiara found it easy enough to slip into conversation with the young man at the door (even if she rather intentionally avoided any direct answer to the question of how they knew the older gentleman).

Certainly, there was an element of intent to the way she shifted the heavy fall of her hair over a shoulder and made sure she held Jake's eyes for a lingering moment when he offered a hand but it was subdued - her engaging smiles, the appreciation in her dark eyes when he invites them inside.

"Thank you, Jake. We'd like that."

Kiara's hand brushes Kalen's arm when she sights the parrot, she casts him this brief, curling little smile before passing on into the living area, her eyes roving over the sofa, the smattering of orchids around the space. They draw her over to one almost unerringly, the Verbena and Kiara's fingers lightly brush the edges of one, turning an appreciative look over a shoulder toward the young man.

"These are beautiful. Are they yours?"

KalenKalen shakes Jake's hand, which involves less shaking from Kalen and more a single, firm squeeze.  There is, again, a brief smile.  He does not try to guide Jake's reactions to them, does not try to detract from Kiara, but his pale eyes are alert.  Interested.

The parrot gets his attention for a few seconds, and then the orchids get another smile.  Not because he thinks about smiling, but because those orchids remind him of other orchids which remind him of the taste of sea spray and the sound of Neruda being read aloud.  His fingertips trace lightly over not one of the delicate flowers but along the curve of one of the thick green leaves.  Kiara has already commented on the orchids.  And what would he say, anyway?  That orchids could mean love and beauty and refinement?

He stays silent instead and watches Jake and Kiara interact.

[But we have habits.  (Almost certainly) unnecessary Perception + Empathy on Jake.]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (3, 3, 7, 7, 8, 8, 8) ( success x 5 )

The SeaThe orchids attract both Kiara and Kalen's attention. And who could blame them? The flowers really are beautiful. Jake follows them into the living room at an easy gait. His gaze dances a moment over Kalen as he pauses to note the macaw in the kitchen, and there's a brief grin of amusement. "That's Icarus. We tried to teach him to talk but mostly he just shrieks a lot."

The music is still blaring out of his earbuds, which Jake finally seems to realize because he fishes his cell phone out of the pocket of his board shorts to turn the sound off. That settled, he shoves the phone and the earbuds back into his pocket. He's in the midst of this when Kiara asks him about the orchids, at which point he gives a low, hearty laugh and shakes his head. "Nah, I'd probably kill them. Pops takes care of all the houseplants. They're kind of his babies."

"Just an old man's hobby," another voice joins the conversation as Haoa steps out into the living room to join them. He's dressed in a pair of cargo shorts and a white tank, barefoot with slightly ruffled white hair. His skin boasts a dark tan, and he smiles when he spots Kalen and Kiara, though his eyes still have a bit of sleepiness around the edges. He's in pretty good shape, all things considered, for a man his age. There are weathered lines on his face and a bit of extra weight on his mid-section, but aside from an apparent tendency to nap in the middle of the day, he doesn't seem to be in poor health.

"You two look like you aren't from around here. What can I help you with?"

KiaraThe brunette straightens as another voice joins in the conversation about the orchids.

There's a smile tinged with real warmth directed Haoa's way and, as she throws the flowers one last, lingering glance, affection, too. "I know somebody who'd appreciate your hobby. He grows some of his own." She touches the edge of a flower and then brushes her hands down the sides of her dress, it flows around the Verbena's body as she moves, the vibrant colors shifting with the material in such a way as it almost feels alive.

"We're not." Kiara concedes with a little glance at her companion, fine dark brows rising in tandem, the female's dark eyes ghost over to Jake and then return to Haoa. She seems to be deliberating, the Verbena, on the best manner to proceed, her expression betraying a hint of consideration, her voice tipping into trepidation at points. "We're actually here on behalf of your mother. She asked us to come and find you as a sort of ... favor." Kiara pauses, throwing out another glance at Kalen.

She seems to weigh up what else to offer before her dark eyes return to Haoa.

Softer: "She'd like to see you again."

Kiara[Perception + Empathy on Haoa: that's quite the news to unload on a guy when he's just woken up, Kiara.]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 4, 8, 9, 9) ( success x 3 )

KalenKalen's eyes track to Haoa when he comes into the room.  Takes in his age but his relative lack of frailty.  What would it be like to love and then watch as everyone you loved in the span of your first lifetime died?  He thinks of the sea witch with her sharks and the way Marcellus adopted him and-

Here, Holliday.  Now.

Haoa gets a brief smile and Kalen does not, lulled into something like tranquility by Jake's warmth and the orchids and the way Haoa slips into their conversation, have to summon warmth for it.  He means that smile.  If Kiara is paying much attention to him for those few seconds she catches a glimpse of what, in another world, Kalen might have been more than for these fleeting moments.

There is a little flicker of surprise across his features.  Concern.  Empathy.

"I know this must be unexpected," he says quietly.  It is, almost, an apology.

[And one more Perception+Empathy]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (2, 3, 6, 6, 9, 9, 9) ( success x 5 )

The Sea"Ah. Whoever he is, he has good taste." Haoa offers Kiara a wink as he makes his way over to an old recliner. There's a little sigh as he lowers himself into it. Once he's settled, he gestures toward the couch. "You can sit if you like." Whether either of them do or not, it doesn't seem to matter to the old man too much.  He covers his mouth as a slow yawn catches him, but as Kiara goes on to explain why they're there... something in his demeanor changes.

He lowers his hand and looks at her, dark eyes sharpening into something closer to alertness. For a long, awkward moment, he doesn't say anything at all.

Jake, meanwhile, leans the tall weight of his frame against the wall in a pose that might have approximated something a bit photo-shoot worthy were it not for the fact that he looks rather a bit unsure of what to do with his hands. First he starts to fold them across his chest, then he thinks better of it and drops them, shifting his weight on his feet and trying to look nonchalant. It takes a moment for him to react to Kiara's news, but when the reality of what she's just said hits him, he looks up suddenly. "Wait, I thought Grandma Ali'ikai was dead?"

"Not dead," Haoa admits coldly. "But she may as well be." It's a surprisingly turn in demeanor for a man who moments ago seemed quite happy to welcome perfect strangers into his home, even though they'd interrupted his nap. Family trouble can bring that out in people though.

"I'm sorry she asked this of you. I don't know how you know her. Perhaps you're Kahuna too. But it doesn't matter. She made her choice years ago. If she wanted to see me she could have come here herself. We aren't her family anymore. The fish and the Rokea are her family."

The SeaAt first glance Haoa appears to be about as open and easy to read as his grandson. He's a bit sleepy, but pleased enough to welcome company into his home - even when it takes the form of strangers. The set of his shoulders is relaxed when he sits down. But that changes when Kiara tells him why they came. When she mentions his mother and her request.

Then suddenly all of that easy warmth just folds in and locks itself away.

He is, at that moment, possessed of a very old and very bitter resentment. Anger and sadness seeps into his voice and his eyes. He is pretty clearly resistant to the idea of visiting his mother. Though perhaps not as disconnected from her as he would like them to believe. (It's hard to get over that kind of rejection.)

KiaraKiara Woolfe would be the last person on earth to argue against the idea that family (and in particular parents) were not complicated areas to navigate. Her own familial issues were not small - and they didn't even press into the aspects of her life beyond the entirely mundane. She hadn't spoken to her mother in over a year and it had been far longer since she'd stood in a room with her father for anything other than brief, uncomfortable moments.

Resentment and anger were fine bedfellows and they bred together a deep and dark gulf.

She does sit, the Verbena, crosses her legs on the edge of her sofa and folds her hands in her lap; her dark eyes slipping from Haoa to his Grandson. She studies Jake for a long moment before returning her eyes to the older man. "We're not Kahuna and we don't know your mother well. In fact, we only met her yesterday but I do believe she's sincere in wanting to see you."

There's a beat.

"I think she has things she'd like to tell you. I have no idea what happened between you, but - " Kiara's eyes shift back to Jake for a moment, she leans forward. " - it might be one of the last chances you get to see each other. Whatever she did, whatever she chose, she doesn't seem to have forgotten you.

Maybe that should count for something."

KalenKalen drifts over toward the couch.  Hesitates.

For a moment he tries to imagine what it would be like to expect to have waffles on Christmas morning again.  He tries to remember what maple syrup tastes like.

And...there.  That is what that loss feels like, when it is not safely shut away and slumbering.  You have to be quick to catch that flicker through his eyes, but it does.  Sharp and hot and unwelcome.

Kalen takes a careful breath and resolves to ask Alexander over for waffles.  It does not, entirely, banish that particular sense of loss into its customary slumber.

"I don't know about what choices she may or may not have made before.  Perhaps she was wrong, or perhaps they were more complicated than they seemed.  Perhaps they were exactly what you think they were.  Those things are done now.  They cannot be undone.  I don't whether or not they can or should be forgiven.

"The only thing I can tell you, is that she does consider you her family.  Them too, perhaps.  But she loves you and she wants to see you."

The SeaHaoa gives a quiet laugh when Kiara mentions that they've only just met Ali'ikai. There isn't much warmth in it, but there is a note of slightly absurd humor. "I can only imagine the circumstances that might cause someone to run into an old witch who lives at the bottom of the ocean."

"Oh come on, Pops. That's just an old story."

Haoa turns his dark eyes to regard his grandson. "It isn't a story, Jake."

Jake lifts an eyebrow and looks for a moment like he's about to argue, but then he breaks into a sudden laugh and says, "Well then hell, I'd like to go see her."

Haoa gives him a sharper look that borders on anger, but whatever it is he's thinking, he keeps it to himself. Instead he shifts his attention back to Kalen and Kiara on the sofa. "She always loved me when it suited her. When I made her feel less alone. Then she'd disappear again. She may have left for good after I got married but she was never really there before that either. Once when I was ten she disappeared for an entire year. Never told me why. There comes a point when you have to let people go. She was never meant to be a mother. She's always had bigger worries."

He takes a long breath, exhaling into a sigh. "I'm sorry you came out here for nothing."

KiaraHe can only imagine the circumstances that might cause someone to run into an old witch who lived at the bottom of the ocean. There's a tiny twitch at the edge of the Verbena's mouth, she dips her chin. "The truth is, Ali'iaki was given something by her own mother. A small stone. We came to find it."

Kiara gestures between herself and Kalen, catching his eye for a moment before glancing back to Haoa. "The stone is part of a crown, something that was, for a long time, hidden away by our people." Kiara pauses, her eyes drifting to Jake. "Our hope is to restore all the missing stones to it. I suppose you could call it a historical pilgrimage." A touch of a smile surfaces. "Ali'iaki's price was finding you. Was - bringing you to see her."

Kiara leans forward again, eyes searching Haoa's face for signs he understood, for some hint that despite everything, what she was saying was reaching beyond the years of hurt and neglect. "The stone clearly means a lot to her. She's willing to give it up for the sake of seeing you again."

She sits back, the pagan, her brows drawing together.

"I don't get the impression it's something she's doing lightly. Whatever her failings as a parent." The brunette casts a look of scrutiny the younger man's way, then. As if she were turning over another possible avenue. "I'm sure she'd like to meet you, too."

KalenKalen sighs.  "You don't have to go," he says quietly.  "We've told you what you should know about your mother.  What you do with that knowledge is not our place to tell you.

"Officially, that's really all I came here for."  He swallows and for a few seconds his lips press together.  "Personally, I would consider it.  She may have been a terrible mother, but at she cares about that.  You may not have this chance again.  Just be very sure, whatever you do, just be very sure.  We can leave a contact number and give you a day or two."

And then he looks away from them for a few seconds.  Steps away from the couch.

His attention drifts back to the orchids, first one and then another and then another.  All the distinct variation between varieties.  The tiny variations between the blooms on each plant.  But, he does not, at least not yet, abandon Kiara to try to finish this on her own.

The SeaI'm sure she'd like to meet you too.

Jake tosses a hopeful glance towards his grandfather, who doesn't offer any response to either confirm or deny that claim. Haoa listens to what Kiara has to say - about the stone; the crown - and a deep furrow makes its way onto his brow. She and Kalen can see him thinking. Processing. Can see the way his mind wants to discard the information.

Kalen adds, afterward, that he doesn't have to go, to which Haoa gives an abrupt little grunt (which might mean something to the effect of: you're damn right I don't.) He's a stubborn creature, this man. He had to be, to accomplish the things he's done in his life.

He mutters something in his native language, standing up from his seat with a distracted glance out the window.

"Hey Pops, you okay?" The tone in Jake's voice drops to one of gentle concern.

"I'm fine. Just... give me a moment." Haoa waves off his grandson and turns to make his way to the back entrance of the house. Jake starts to follow, then hesitates, watching him go. There's a light slap of metal as the screen door opens and shuts.

"Uh... sorry about that." Jake turns back to Kalen and Kiara, offering them an embarrassed smile. "He gets like that sometimes. Don't leave yet, okay? Just... let me talk to him."

And with that, Jake jogs out to join his grandfather on the deck.

Their voices reach a low murmur. Then go silent.

Finally, about five minutes later, Jake walks back in.

"He'll come. He just needs some time alone right now. Is tomorrow morning okay?"

KiaraWhen Jake jogs out after his grandfather, Kiara watches the younger man go with a trace of concern; she gets to her feet in the absence of both men and begins a slow circuit of the living room, her fingers idly pulling at the pendent around her neck, dragging the chain to and fro, a vaguely distracted frown etching across her mouth.

"If he doesn't want to go, maybe we can convince Jake to come in his stead." She offers after a pause, glancing in the direction both men had departed in, she can feel both of their presences, as well the soft rise and fall of discussion. The brunette's eyes betray her concern, as she adds with a tiny frustrated flourish of a hand: "Of course, even if he does come, the question remains how we get him down to her. I feel like almost anything is going to be a risk."

She adds, lowly: "I hope we're doing the right thing."

When Jake returns, Kiara's back is to the room, her attention on the window; she turns at the sound of footsteps and her expression, when Jake offers that Haoa has agreed but needs time, reads a flicker of both surprise and gratitude. "Tomorrow is fine. We can give you our number where we're staying if anything changes and come and collect him in the morning."

A pause, she offers Jake a brighter smile. "Thank you, for talking to him."

Kalen"Between the two of us," Kalen says quietly.  "I imagine there will be only so much risk.  We'll have to be careful, but if nothing else we can try to have her swim up to us.  I would hope that that much she would do."

He comes to join Kiara at the window.  Close enough to touch, though he does not reach out for her.  "Here?  Or in bringing this thing back together at all?"  There is, for a second, a quick smile.  It does not, quite reach his eyes.

"Here at least, I like our odds."

Kiara agrees to the time for them and thanks Jake.  Kalen just gives him a little nod and another of those there-and-gone-again smiles.  This one slightly more real.  "See you tomorrow."

The Sea"Yeah." Jake accepts Kiara's gratitude with a nod. "If it's okay, I'd like to come too. To keep an eye on him. And... I mean... I'm still half convinced you guys are trying to pull some elaborate practical joke, but I love to dive and if my great grandmother has somehow managed to survive all these years in the ocean, then I definitely want to meet her." There's an edge of excitement in the young man's grin, despite everything. And who could blame him, really?

He steps into the kitchen for a moment and grabs a pad of post-it notes and a pen out of a drawer. "Here you go. Elliott and Kiara, right?" He offers the pad and pen across to Kiara. There's a beat while he waits for her to jot down their phone number, then he asks, in an only slightly awkward voice, "So... are you two like... together?"

KiaraThe Verbena's handwriting is as large and bold as much of Kiara was, flourished with loops and underscored when she's done with a sharp line drawn beneath the information. She's holding the pad and pen back out to Jake when he asks if she's with Kalen.

Her eyebrows shoot up and the brunette cants an assessing look over at Kalen for a beat, her mouth curving up in a smile that verged into something crooked. Her voice was threaded through and warm with amusement and clear affection as she answered: "Oh. No. We're just friends. My boyfriend couldn't come with us." She adds the latter with a tiny hesitation, as if the title for Ian were still new and a little uncertain.

There's also a twinge of gentle sympathy in it, as there had to be when you had to find the kindest form of extinguishing hope.

She offers a smile and then adjusts her bag against her shoulder. "So I guess we'll see you both tomorrow?"

KalenKalen does not seem terribly surprised by the new title.  He does, after all, know that Kiara has been into Ian's home.  Ian does not take many people home.  It is enough that his eyes track to Kiara, but beyond that, his only real response is a tiny congratulatory smile.

Under other circumstances, perhaps Kalen would have said something more playful.  About Kiara, about Ian, about Jake.  But not even at Kiara's assessing look can he be bothered with that.

The SeaThere is a very brief moment when Kiara can see a spark of hope forming in Jake's eyes. Then Kiara says: my boyfriend couldn't come with us, and that spark fades into something like low-key disappointment. He doesn't let it kill his mood though. Just smiles a little and nods. "That's a shame. That he couldn't come, I mean."

(That's not really what he means.)

He takes the notepad and the pen back from Kiara and taps the pen against the wall. "Yeah. I'll have him call when he's up. See you guys tomorrow."

As the two of them leave, Jake leans out to hold the screen door, offering one last lingering smile in their wake.