At dawn's early light, a soft voice drifted over the ocean breeze.  Nothing but a murmur in the wind, barely heard above the waves reaching out to shore.  A faint, spectral figure of a small feline hovered over the water.  A pair of ocean blue eyes glinting in the dim light.  Sad eyes.

Haʻaheo ka ua i naa pali
Ke nihi aʻela i ka nahele
E uhai ana paha i ka liko
Pua 'ahihi lehua o uka

"Hello?" A groggy, quiet voice inquried.  Bewildered, Keona rose from her sleep, brows creasing sharply at the barely auidable sound.  Something tugged at her heart and mind.  A peice of her recognizing something she must have heard before.  Somewhere.  Sometime ago.

The voice, it seemed sad to her.  It's a sad song.  A goodbye song.  Keona grit her teeth and slowly padded outside of her hut, careful not to wake her father.  Unlike he'd approve of an early outing while she was supposed to be healing.  Still, she could not resist the pull, walking until her feet touched sand.  Walking until water began to wash over her tiny paws. 

I know this song.  The fae lifted her head towards the breeze, feeling the wind brush against her cheeks, the salt on her tongue.  I know this song.  Faintly, her voice rose to join; quiet, but well-tuned, familiar to the words.

Aloha ʻoe, aloha ʻoe  "Aloha ʻoe, aloha ʻoe,"
E ke onaona noho i ka lipo  "E ke onaona noho i ka lipo,"
One fond embrace
A hoʻi aʻe au  "A hoʻi aʻe au,"
Until we meet again "Until we meet again."

The rocking boat seemed such a distant memory now.  The voices of her father's crew fading away as each day passed by.  All at once it was brought back.  The crash of waves on wood.  The constant murmur of voices as everyday chatter went on.  Paws padding across the wooden floorboards.  Above it all a quiet voice.  Sweet as honey, rising and falling to gentle lullabies.  'Don't cry, I'll see you by and by.'

Her chest ached.  Her eyes stung as she took another, faltering step forward, water reaching up to the middle of her legs.  "Makuahine?"

Aloha ʻoe, aloha ʻoe
E ke onaona noho i ka lipo
One fond embrace
A hoʻi aʻe au
Until we meet again

A bottle drifted up beside her paws.  Inside a wrapped parchment, though the child saw nothing through her pale eyes, only felt the bottle bump against her.  Slowly, she dragged it back to the dry sand, before running back to the waves, searching, her ears perked.  Waiting.  Hoping.

Until we meet again . . .

The voice drifted away in the wind.  The singer disappearing into the sunlight, gone.

[ there is a single, rolled parchment inside the glass bottle, addressed to both Kian and Seamus according to the inscription.  Only one word is sprawled on the page in Hawaiian; kou. ]

tá mé i dtiúin — ✯

© LEXASPERATED

When it came to the ghosts that had temporarily invaded The Typhoon, he hadn’t exactly seen them manifest into anything. He had seen bones being carried about or books possessed but no familiar faces or figures could be seen by the Quartermaster and Bakugou thought it was best it stayed that way. He remembered the day the undead first arrived, the damage and harassment they had caused. The worst part of it was the fact that he decided to go outside in the first place, only to find himself overusing his powers and on the verge of coughing up his internal organs because all the pain. His body was screaming. His teleportation was spastic, glitching back and forth so rapidly and quickly that the sensations had returned, the feeling of his cells being torn open, inverting and imploding. Then there was his fire, causing his organs to feel as though they were all burning up, as if he might die from the inside because the flames were raging. They couldn’t be controlled, only an after-effect of having over-extended himself trying to help… - his brows furrow. He realizes he has forgotten exactly who he had tried to save. He guessed it didn’t really matter.

The point was, he didn’t expect to see the form of a spectre over the ocean, unable to hear what they were saying but definitely noticing that Keona was responding to the spirit in return. He saw the way she approached, the ragdoll eyeing the situation carefully, not wishing to start either because he was beginning to see ghosts as malevolent forces, worse than demons. And yet the scene in front of him turned out to be a sad one, full of sentiment when he heard her speak in their foreign language, sometimes shifting momentarily to English before returning, the young deputy finally drawing his eyes to the fact that she had received a glass bottle. Inside, there appeared to be some parchment. He assumed it was a message, wondering if it was a ghost giving a prophecy of the future or an ancestor of Keona who wanted to depart a part of itself to her. He notices Luciferus’ quiet stance, noticing that he too was watching over the blind child before noticing Caesar appear and disappear. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been lucky enough to catch the look of fear spread over the Head Officer’s features.

”Who the fuck did you just talk to?” the ragdoll asks upon approaching her, not holding back on his vulgar tongue. Truthfully, if he wanted to be a good role model considering his rank, he shouldn’t be swearing around every kid he met. It was, well, an unbreakable habit at this point. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried.

Her mother. Those words echoed to him without meaning, the male knowing there should have been a deep connection between a child and their mother but failing to feel the emotion behind it. He could remember his own mother - his own mother who was able to hit him and cause him to shudder. He would be angry but unable to fight back, more afraid of his mother's consequences than anyone else. His eyes stare coldly forward, listening to Kian's words as he explained his and Keona's connection to the female spirit. He didn't ask to hear the story but he listened anyway, wordless. Closure. He supposed it would be nice to finally understand, be given love when one had thought they had received none their whole life. Death always came so suddenly, after all, and its affects spread like a disease, a plague. His nose twitches when the male speaks again. Hawaiian...so that was the annoying language the cats spoke in. He never understood what they were saying. "Well it's better that you speak English," Bakugou huffs a little insensitively. Really what he should be doing is offering his condolences but Bakugou was never one to do so. "Then everyone can understand you better."

Bakugou was the one who nearly made the child jump out of her fur.  For Lucifer's silence, she noticed the dragon, but did not seem to register his presence.  Slowly, the tiny fae turned, her father's accented voice cut the air, answering the less sensitive male.  Quiet voices.  Maybe they did not want to disturb her mother, although, Keona realized crestfallen, that was probably the last they'd see of her mother.  Gone in a flash.

As such, the child remained quiet as her uncle's voice joined the group.  Her pale hues gleamed softly, distant and sad.  Closure.  If that had been the goal... Well, the hole in her chest she'd felt since the day she asked where her mother had gone... It hadn't gone anywhere.  The little striker had never really understood the concept of death.  For a creature destined for immortal life, it was hard to consider leaving the world, or someone else leaving the world.  Since day one, Keona had felt certain that although her da said her mother was gone... She'd come back some day.

Now she felt less certain.  The grief in her family's voices hit her own heart rather hard.  She wanted her mother.  How was it fair both her father and uncle had known her, while all she had was the distant memory of a voice?  What did her laugh sound like?  Was she strong?  Did she like the ocean?  Would she like me? The way she was now?  Keona hoped so; she'd been learning to use her mental abilities and she had plans to master combat once she'd fully healed... Would that have made her happy?

The girl tilted her head towards the ocean again, eyes stinging.  She wanted her mother. The sound of her nickname drew her towards her uncle, teeth chewing the inside of her cheek absently.  "Kou." She echoed the word robotically.  Kou.  How come that's all her mother had to say?  Why was it only directed to the twins?

"… 'Yours'."

Not a full sentence.  Just a word.  Something felt subtly powerful in that one word.  A wary feeling sank in her stomach, though she couldn't quite explain why.  "… I don't understand." That's it? She had nothing else to say? A final message of one word. And a song.  A song of farewell.

"Makemake wau i koʻu makuahine."

Come back, please.  There has to be more.

tá mé i dtiúin — ✯

He lets off an undignified huff towards Seamus' comment, stating that it was better for others not to hear. While it was good to maintain privacy, flaunting one's detachment to The Typhoon wasn't all that good. It made others especially irritable to be around their tight-knit family and it was frustrating to be sitting in the middle of it, trying to interact with them. "Then you're not worth my time," he simply sighs, standing up and turning around. There is no use in staying around and perhaps no use in his attempts to approach the family. While he tried to extend himself a number of times, it had all been wasted effort. He didn't like being out of the loop, it made him frustrated that the ragdoll resulted to his own childish and immature reaction. If they refused to be decent enough to stop excluding members of The Typhoon, maybe then he would view them as part of the island. For now he would see them as nuisances who weren't true members of The Typhoon he had responsibility over, who weren't worth approaching. He was sick of hearing their foreign words. The young Quartermaster had already left without another word.

⚓ IKAIA | current track ♪ | current shape: oncilla | engaging. . . |
Distress leads him over towards the group, acutely aware it's Keona's sorrow he catches.  Concern creases his brow as the youth bounds across the bay.  He casts a glance towards Bakugou, but decides to dismiss him after a second, determining he wasn't going to get irritated at the Quartermaster when he should be focused on his friend.

He brushes against Keona's side, aiming to nuzzle her lightly.  I'm sorry. The boy speaks through their bond, hoping maybe he could use the connection to give her some comfort. 

He didn't know his mother.  Or he couldn't remember her, at the very least.  Nor his father, or any other family he may or may not have.  For some reason, the youth felt little bother for that most of the time.  Some days he was reminded of what he didn't have and it nagged at him, but there was little to be done.  Keona had her father and uncles, and even a little cousin around, but Ikaia knew she missed the one part of her family that was missing.

He frowned thoughtfully at the situation.  A single word message for the father and uncle. Kou.  Yours.  If there was some critical meaning in the one word, he didn't see it.  Seemed like there should be more to it yet there wasn't.  Weren't letters supposed to end with yours?