4138/Daybreak Rites

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Daybreak Rites
Date of Scene: 15 November 2020
Location: Roof - Titan's Tower
Synopsis: There is a meeting of minds on the roof. Kian perhaps shows more than just what's on his mind.
Cast of Characters: Kian, Gar Logan

Kian has posed:
    The monitoring systems down in the Tower almost certainly register an unexpected weight atop the rooftop elevator enclosure.  Mass, about 37 kilos.  Whatever it is, it didn't fall onto the enclosure, it climbed up the access ladder.  Kían's transponder is nearby, but not precisely at the same location as the unknown mass.
    Anyone watching the security cameras will immediately identify that it is in fact Kían—although why he's climbing up onto the elevator housing rather than just flitting up and landing on it is anyone's guess.
    Security systems just flag it as 'someone take a look' rather than an actual emergency of any sort.  It's not unheard of to get slightly separated from one's T-Com, after all, and the mass and IR profile are consistent with the little alien.

Gar Logan has posed:
    There are security cameras that cover every major part of Titans Tower.  In a police state, such a thing could be viewed as oppressive.  For a group of heroes like the Titans, it's meant to help guard against attack.  Sensors are intended to alert them to trouble in advance, but sensors don't always catch everything.  The cameras can also verify whether something is a threat or not.
    On monitor duty is Beast Boy, who currently has his feet up on the desk before the bank of screens, watching a smaller one of his own: there's a movie playing on his phone.  The flag from the systems leads to him taking a look at what caused it, and a camera adjustment shows the reason.  It's just Kian.  He checks the time.  Sunrise.  That's right.  Kian's location has been found up there at this time before.  But, what's it all about?
    Gar has never checked before.  Today, that changes.  Routing the security feed to his phone, he leaves the monitor room and makes his way to the rooftop.

Kian has posed:
    Oblivious to the activity below, Kían faces the lightening pre-dawn sky eastward over the Atlantic Ocean, and bows deeply, wingtips brushing the roof of the elevator enclosure.  He repeats the process to the north, west, south, and east again.  Microphones nearby might well pick up the faint sound of chanting.  The scale is odd, and while the other Titans have certainly picked up a few words of Kían's language here and there, it doesn't sound like 'normal' Akiár'shak.  It's somehow denser than the way Kían usually speaks it.
    One camera focuses on the precise location of Kían's T-Com.  It's at the base of the ladder, sitting atop his neatly-folded kilt.

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan reaches the top of the tower by the time Kian is facing away from him.  The elevator is quiet, and the Akiar may be distracted as it is.  The green one of the pair glances toward the clothing left behind, leading to a raised brow as he glances up then away, almost clearing his throat but thinking better of it instead.
    Don't stare at the bird alien going through whatever the ritual is, while not wearing a thing.

Kian has posed:
    The moment the first sliver of sun peeks over the horizon, Kían raises his wings high and spreads his arms, calling out clearly, "H'kýe h'ka!"
    And then his voice drops to a more quiet tone again, although it's obvious he's singing, in that strange dialect of his own language, in that odd scale that sounds more appropriate to a sitar raga than it does Western Terran music.
    The birdman is utterly oblivious to the presence of anyone else as the rising sun illuminates him in the rich golden light of the early morning.
    One thing that appears to be missing from the neat pile of kilt, sandals and T-Com is his pendant.

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan decides on sitting down with his back to the wall housing the elevator.  He can listen, but he doesn't watch.  It feels like the proper way to handle this, and there's enough in the singing that he understands little of as it is.  Clearly this is something meaningful, and it wouldn't do to interrupt it.
    Gar might be a joker and someone who goes for lighter moods most of the time, but he isn't going to just do something inappropriate to interfere.  He can wait.

Kian has posed:
    Whatever Kían is doing, it doesn't take long.  The singing stops, there is a moment of quiet, then a few more words in that strange dialect.  If Gar is still watching the security feed on his phone, Kían repeats that which began the ritual: a low bow to the east, then around the cardinal points back to the east again…
    …and then he just exhales softly, and rather indifferently steps off the edge of the elevator enclosure, braking his fall at the last second.  Another graceful landing.  Would you expect otherwise?
    He turns around, and only then notices he's not alone.  "Ai!  Kié, Gar tavár'h.  I did not know you were here."  Obviously.  "Iss there a problem?  I haf done my rites up here before, so I thought there woul' not be."  He makes no move to collect his gear, apparently oblivious to his state of undress.

Gar Logan has posed:
    And still Gar waits.  He does keep tabs on the security feed, just in case, for there's more than one way to approach the Tower.  The bowing is noted, his eyes dipping away from the feed depending on the direction Kian shows facing.
    Once done, he glances to the side as Kian's descent from the rooftop's high point is made, then the alien faces him.  "Yeah, I thought I'd let you finish.  The security system pinged something up here and I saw it was you, so I came up."  He pauses before nudging Kian's clothing a few inches toward him.  "So what was that all about?  Do you worship the sun or something?"

Kian has posed:
    "Ai, no," Kían says, making no move for his clothing.  "My Lady Kiáre q'Rhys is associated with the dawn, so Her rites are done at sunrise.  Because I am a scientis', I am Hers, so dawn iss when I do my personal rites."
    He tilts his head, regarding Gar closely.  "I do not know under whose win' you woul' be, at leas' when you are in the shape of an Akiár.  Prob'ly Erýkh k'Rhys.  You liff by your hear' more than by your head."
    And then he laughs softly.  "Not that I am the one to make that decision.  I am no pries' of any of the Gods.  An' you haf not had your I'takár anyway, an' I am not train' to gif you that rite."

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan keeps studying the phone so he can keep watch while not physically being in the monitor room.  It's also a good excuse to not stare at Kian.
    "I'm not gonna pretend I understand all of that, but people have a lot of different religions on this planet, too."
    He squints at the suggestion he's led by his heart instead of his head, but… it's not really wrong.  Quietly, he says after a slight shrug, "It doesn't really matter anyway, does it?  I can turn into one, but I'm not really one.  Whatever I can become, it's just temporary."

Kian has posed:
    Kían is obviously listening closely.  "You are correc', you are not Akiár.  But I fin' it har' to not thin' of someone who can be Akiár at will as bein' also boun' by the great charge to protec' the sky.  You mus' remin' me when I make that mistake."
    He smiles slightly.  "But if you ever wan' to join my rites, you are welcome to.  I do not know what Gods you belief in, or if they are like mine.  I hope they woul' not min' if you join me some time."

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan brings his knees in toward his chest, wrapping his arms around them.  The phone has been laid on the ground next to him.
    "Maybe it's not a mistake.  I kinda feel like I need to protect everything.  I can be a shark or a dolphin or a whale, so I should protect the ocean.  I can be a hawk or an eagle or… an Akiar… so I should protect the sky.  I can be a wolf or a tiger or a gorilla, so I should protect the land.  And I'm a human, so I should protect everyone."  That's a lot of protecting for anyone to take on, isn't it?  "But everywhere in nature, there are predators and prey.  We shouldn't mess with that because it makes stuff balanced."
    Sometimes he can be deeper than he seems, on the surface.
    "I don't think I… I mean, your rites are for you.  I think there's probably a higher power out there, but a lot of the time I don't know what I should believe or not.  I don't think I'd understand your rites, either."  There.  Doubt.

Kian has posed:
    Kían nods, and accepts that easily.  "Well, my Gods are not yours," he says, "and it woul' not be reasonable to thin' you shoul' accep' mine jus' because I do.  An' you are not Akiár, you are Terran.  But maybe you are claimin' too much as your responsibility?  It iss enough to wan' to protec' all Eart' people.  The Gods do not ex-pec' the impossible, because we are not oursel'f gods.  That woul' not be fair or reasonable.  We make mistakes.  We are only mortal.  My Lady Kiáre q'Rhys only ex-pec' that I do my bes', not that I am perfec'."

Gar Logan has posed:
    "I just don't talk about that stuff a lot, that's all," Gar replies, giving a little shake of the head.  "A lot of people don't accept stuff that's different from what they know.  If they saw half the things we did, I wonder if they'd still think the same way."
    He gestures with a hand before bringing it back to where it'd been.  "And… man, sometimes I just don't know.  I almost got us all killed trying to play spaceship captain when I was just trying to get everybody to calm down."  This still, apparently, is weighing on him.  They were fired upon, and they shot back.  "And there's been nothing from the beacon yet, either."

Kian has posed:
    "I prob'ly woul' haf got us killed if I had tried to take control.  You kep' us alife an' gave us a chance at gettin' readin's, even if they did not gif us what we hope for," Kían replies.  "Especially since I was also dealin' wit' the min'-touch of the other aliens.  You can only do the bes' you can, Gar tavár'h, an' you did not get us killed.  Be happy wit' what iss, not worried over what did not happen, yis?"

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan exhales, unmoving from his spot.  The phone shows nothing of note from the bank of monitors.
    "Maybe you're right," is all he says until he adds, "I just wish I knew earlier that you were… talking to one of them.  Anyway…."
    The shifter of the Titans drums fingers against his knees.  "What's the ritual all about, then?"

Kian has posed:
    "I shoul' haf said somethin'," Kían admits, "but it was a difficul' thin', tryin' to under-stan' them an' what was goin' on with the probe and all.  It was my mistake, not tellin' you what I was sensin' from them, an' I can only apologize."
    And then Kían looks back up to the roof of the elevator enclosure.  "It iss a… a… I do not know how to desc-ribe it, really.  I than' my Lady Kiáre q'Rhys for another day, an' as'k for Her guidance an' under-standin'.  To poin' me in the way to under-stan' the worl' I'm in, an' why I am here, an'… well, an' where my home iss an' how to get there from here.  You are my frien', an' so iss almos' everyone else here, but I miss my family."

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan's head shakes.  "It's fine.  We got out of it in one piece, and we got the beacon where we should have put it from the beginning.  It's just hard to be patient, and it's been so long already.  I'm trying to, you know, wait for Vorpal, but it's hard."  What is he trying to wait for?
    On to the ritual, the rites, the praying and singing.  The explanation serves for at least a few seconds before he does in fact say something.  "I know it's gotta be hard for you, and you don't know if you'll get to see your planet or your people again.  I know what it's like to lose family, but yours should still be alive, right?  Your parents?  Any brothers and sisters?"  He begins to look up, then shifts his eyes away again.

Kian has posed:
    "Yis, unless there has been an acciden', my paren's an' gran'-paren's an' great-gran's, an' my brother an' sister shoul' still be alife an' well.  An' Raká tenár'hc'Rhys'yw I wish we had join our houses right away rather than wait for me to finish at the Imperial University.  I haf every reason to thin' they are all alife an' well."
    He looks up into the morning sky, and frowns.  "But they do not haf any reason to belief I am still alife.  You haf reason to think that your Téri iss, an' I hope for the both of you he comes back to you soon.  You are… gray wit'out him.  Even wit'out the min' touch, I can see the hole in you, an' I thin' I know where it comes from, an' I can only hope Raká iss not the same way about me bein' gone."
    The birdman sighs heavily.  "But he probably iss, my poor tenár'h."

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan frowns.  "Is it that obvious?" he asks, about his state of mind with Vorpal—and the others—still not back yet.  He still jokes around, still seeks out the laughs, but it hasn't been as frequent ever since what happened.
    "I hope so, too.  You still don't know, uh, where home is compared to Earth?  Maybe someone could at least get a message out somehow, something that they might be able to receive?" he asks, a hint of optimism creeping into the question.

Kian has posed:
    "I thin' it iss obvious," Kían says, "but I haf seen your min', and I haf seen Téri's min'.  An' it pains me to see you gray, an' I fear I am the same way too, an' that Raká iss the same way over missin' me.  But it shoul' be obvious to anyone that you miss Téri more than jus' as a frien'.  Maybe the others, they do not speak of it because they know it iss a pain to you.  I will speak of it because I know it is true, an' because I know the feelin', an' pain shared is pain halved."
    Again, the birdman looks up into the sky.  "I woul' send a message, but where?  I do not know if I am in the same universe I was born in.  Never min' the same galaxy.  I coul' sen' a message out and five an' a half billion years from now it arrives on my homeworl', long after our star has died and they haf move to another worl'… never min' how many billions of years after my own deat'.  I thin' I have to consider Eart' my home now.  It iss a big universe… a big multiverse, an' Kyshán is only one small planet.  I need a lot more than hope to thin' I can ever find it again."

Gar Logan has posed:
    "We did kinda have to say something to everyone after one of those tabloids got a picture of us at that one Themysciran thing," Gar reminds, but maybe Kian never caught wind of that.  "It was… right before everything happened, and we were just back from getting away to a lake, and then his Titans story came out the same day."  A real kick in the guts.
    He pinches at the bridge of his nose while listening to Kian's words of realism about how unlikely it is to get word back home.  "Crud.  It stinks that they might never be able to know, but… stranger things have happened.  Just look at our friends.  What we learned out there, I never would have guessed it was that.  So maybe…."  He gestures with a hand and begins to stand back up, leaving him getting a better look at Kian.  This time, he doesn't immediately glance away.

Kian has posed:
    Kían nods.  "Well, I woul' not have hope for our frien's if I myself was not los', but still alife.  It iss too improbable, yis?  But it iss anyway.  So maybe there iss hope for my frien's and family too."
    He sighs, and spreads his arms, and gazes up into the morning sun, muttering something briefly in his own language… then slumps against the wall of the elevator enclosure, and sighs again.  "There iss nothin' to be done for my problem but hope an' pray.  Iss there anything I can do for yours, Gar tavár'h?"

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan shares, "Sometimes the most improbable things actually end up happening.  Just… try to remember that.  And I don't know if you can do anything for me.  I don't even like having to wait for the next episode of a show to come out."
    He nudges at Kian's attire, finally noticing the pendant that's still worn.  "But does it help you when I look more like you?"

Kian has posed:
    "It does, some," Kían admits, still paying no attention to his clothes (or lack thereof), and fingering his pendant absently.  "Even though I know you are not really Akiár, and no Akiár was ever green all over, but you have the ki'thar, the min'-touch, an' that is a comfor'.  I miss the feel of the min's aroun' me.  I even miss the feel of the kirát, the simple mental control system of my home.  But even knowin' that you are not Akiár, it iss a comfor'.  I hope Téri gives you some of the same feelin', since he knows what it iss like to change bodies, like you, yis?"

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan nods slowly, taking this all in, running a hand through his mop of green hair, biting his lip in a way that the snaggletooth shows more prominently than usual.  "Well, I'm glad it helps.  I can do it more often if it helps more.  There's some stuff I still don't understand about what it's like, but I know wings don't suck."  He mulls over the last question and nods slowly.  "Yeah, I guess maybe there's something to that."
    Gesturing toward the pendant, he asks, "What's the meaning of that?  Is it just something you like to wear?  Since… uh… that's all you're wearing."

Kian has posed:
    Kían grins lopsidedly.  "Well, I won't stop you from bein' an Akiár as often as you like," he says.  "I appreciate the company.  An' unless I am wron', I thin' you like flyin' that way too."
    He glances down, and grips his pendant lightly in his left hand.  "This iss the token of my I'takár, my Firs' Flight.  It iss when I came of age, became an adul'."  He holds it out for Gar to look at—it's a stylized hawk in some dark, lustrous metal, wings spanning the width of a rising sun in gold.  "The hawk iss for my clan, Káeh.  The rising sun iss for my Lady Kiáre q'Rhys.  It iss a standar' design, I am not an artis'.  I haf a cousin who made her own, an' it iss beautiful.  But this needed to be my design, even if it was a simple one."

Gar Logan has posed:
    "I like flying one way or another," Gar nods, and a threat of a smile pops up for a moment.  It's not quite all the way there yet.  He listens to the explanation about the jewelry and takes a closer look at it.  "So you have hawks on your world too?" he questions, explaining, "As far as I can tell, it looks exactly the way ours do.  And that's cool, too.  I wouldn't have any one thing for a design."  He just doesn't say a word about the ongoing state of undress.  It's not like he's never been naked coming out of a shift, but that's no longer much of an issue.

Kian has posed:
    "It iss somethin' very like a hawk, so I haf decide to translate it that way," Kían explains, and certainly his wings are marked very much like a red-tailed hawk's.
    Again, he tilts his head and studies Gar closely.  "I do not know if you shoul' take the I'takár or not.  You are not Akiár, even if you can be one sometimes.  An' I am definitely not a pries' so I coul' not really preside over the rite.  If you wan' to, I coul', though.  The Gods care more about what is in your hear' than anythin' else.  I do not know where to get you a medallion, though."

Gar Logan has posed:
    "Ahh.  Well… maybe?  Once the others are back?  We could have Vorpal there," Gar thinks aloud, when he realizes, "I don't even know what the rites are.  Is there a test?  I don't really like tests.  I hope there isn't a test."  Maybe it'd be some kind of honorary sometime-Akiar thing.

Kian has posed:
    "That woul' be appropriate for Téri to be there for you," Kían replies, considering.  "It iss a tes', but a simple one.  Dive off a height an' collec' your medallion at the base of the cliff or wherever, an' then make your way back to the top.  It iss suppose' to be the firs' time an Akiár really flies.  I know you haf fly before, of course.  An' I am no pries'.  But I woul' be happy to oversee a sor' of firs' flight for you, if you can get a medallion to retrieve."

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan scoffs, "That's all?  I mean, I guess it would be more nervous to someone who hadn't flown yet, but that'll be a piece of cake for me."  A bit of bravado shows, and if he actually had wings right now there's a good chance they'd be ruffling up right about now.  "But if you, you know, think it'd be worth doing sometime, sure.  I could find a medallion.  I can already think of something, too."
    Is he saying what that is?  Of course not.  Instead, he's turning toward the elevator again, phone in hand.  "Anyway, I should get back inside.  I'm still on monitor duty and if I have to send out an alert, it'll be easier from in there.  Don't stay out here too long.  Someone else might walk in on you and freak out."

Kian has posed:
    "I do not know if it woul' be meaningful to you, but if you wan', I will officiate as bes' I can," Kían offers.  "I haf said I am no pries'.  But I woul' do for you what I can."
    he blinks innocently at Gar, genuinely not understanding.  "Freak out over what?"

Gar Logan has posed:
    Gar Logan just steps inside the elevator when the doors part and points in the general area of Kian's midsection.  "See you later, Kian," he says, a wry grin passing over before the doors close once more.