Azar gritted her teeth as she pushed herself to fly higher, swing faster. She could hear the wires of her trapeze sing with the stress she was placing on them but she ignored the small part of her that cautioned her to slow down. "Can't slow down," she panted under her breath. "Don't want to, don't want to think." Recklessly, she lowered her trapeze and did several circuits of the clearing while maintaining her high speed. If not the thick calluses on her feet and calves, she would've gained several painful friction burns. She started to shift her grip, eyes widening as she felt sweat soaked palms combined with cramping fingers slip from her trapeze bar. She was sent tumbling across the bataclan's clearing, abruptly colliding with whatever invisible barrier marked the edge of Kooza. Thankfully whatever the barrier was made of was soft and helped absorb her impact. Azar sprawled, gasping for breath and biting back a groan as her body started hurting in response to the crash.
She blinked the sweat from her eyes and stared up at her trapeze, still swinging wildly above her. Apart from the bruises she could feel forming; her entire torso- especially her arms and shoulders- felt like they were on fire from the abuse she had subjected them to. At the same time, her muscles felt like they had the consistency of the strange gelatin dessert Ilkin sometimes made. She let out a weak chuff of laughter, too exhausted for a proper derisive snort. She was distracted from thoughts by the sound of footsteps. Seconds later, Ilkin was frowning down at her as if summoned by her thoughts.
"That must have been one of the stupidest stunts I've ever seen you pull," he said flatly.
"Shut up," she muttered, wincing as she felt sore ribs announce themselves. Ilkin snorted and leaned down to haul her to her feet, ignoring her outraged snarl of protest. He narrowed his eyes as she stood, knees wavering for a second before deciding to hold her weight. Azar glanced at him and hissed, recognizing his expression. "Pick me up and I'll tell Michael where you hid the wine," she threatened.
"Try anything like what I just saw again and I'll tell Trickster," he replied. Azar stiffened at the mention of Sarkan and started back towards the bataclan, favoring her left leg. Ilkin matched steps with her, ready to catch her if her leg gave out. Azar favored him with another venomous glare but he smiled back at her before frowning. "People are going to start noticing," he said.
"Notice what," Azar grumbled under her breath.
"Whatever it is that is going on between you and the Trickster," he retorted. Before Azar could growl at him, he continued, "I've only noticed since it's what I do. Be grateful that Aysu hasn't, otherwise she would start picking at your entire relationship with him again."
"Aysu can fold it up into corners and shove it up her ass," Azar said in a sour voice. At Ilkin's sharp look, she shrugged one shoulder as they started up the stairs leading to her loft. "She goes after my relationship, I'll go after hers." Not even one of the clowns would've mistaken the baring of teeth that followed her statement for a smile.
"If you two start fighting, I'm getting earplugs," Ilkin muttered. "Seriously Azar- Figure out what you're going to do about Trickster. Break it off, patch it back up, kiss him senseless, whatever. Just…resolve it," he said, sounding pained. Azar felt a flicker of amusement at Ilkin's last suggestion. "The others are going to notice and are going to want to get involved," he warned.
Azar didn't reply and they spent the rest of the walk up to Azar's loft in silence, save for the occasional gasp that escaped Azar as she jarred some newly hurting body part. At her door she gave him a brusque nod of thanks as she started to slip inside. "Send up one of the others with that muscle rub later," she ordered.
"Tch. I should send Aysu or Cyrus for all the politeness I heard," Ilkin replied, folding his arms over his chest.
"…Please," Azar ground out through gritted teeth after a moment.
Ilkin smirked. "I'll send one of the others. See you at dinner." Azar's door didn't quite slam shut but it came close.
AN: (I hate. Long division. And polynomials.) Azar tries to avoid the situation with Sarkan with a tried and true tactic: Overworking. Ilkin notices things because informally he's considered second in command of Kooza and because of his mile-wide mothering streak. This is one of the few times he has the upper hand over Azar because she doesn't do anything that he can worry at her about if that makes sense.
Connecting back to the last drabble...Azar did enjoy the cake Sarkan left her but she's still going to try and ignore the situation for a while longer. But with the risk of the others taking notice, she's going to have to start thinking about things and that won't be a comfortable process for her.