my lucky #3

The food is devoured easily and gratefully – having sated her bloodthirst not that long ago, she isn’t fiending like she has before. The coffee is delicious and Kiada drains her mug and cleans her plate with a satisfied little hum, until the conversation shifts toward the tournament and she diverts away from Deimos’ capabilities (fully believing in him to do quite a number) before she notices his nose wrinkle and a deep little laugh leaves her. “Would you enjoy that?” She asks curiously, wondering what kind of parameters might need to fall under it. Perhaps she’ll ask Remi what his official thought pattern was with putting it together, wondering who all might be involved with the potential of growing year after year. And places to host it, that is, would it be a revolving door of a coliseum between the friendly regions? k i a d a

Deimos

He persisted in ensuring the rest of his food was decimated too – toast, bacon, and eggs all consumed for the start of yet another long, but fulfilling and determined, day. Once she was finished too, he took both their plates, following a set routine and pattern in bringing them to the sink and completing the dishes (one less thing to return home to after patrols, skirmishes, hunts, and the like), before arching his brow at her inquiry.

Would he like an annual tournament? “Perhaps not if it is the exact same every year. Different restrictions or parameters might make it interesting.” And less likely for the same people to dominate on each cycle. Lobbying a question in return, he gave a light snicker, before drying off the plates and setting them aside. “Would you participate in one again?”

it's not the waking, it's the rising
It's the fire it ignites

She finishes her plate and lets him take it, draining the rest of her coffee after as she brings it into the kitchen to continue the conversation, helping to dry the plates and help where she can as she considers his suggestion. “That does sound quite fun.” A variety rather than basing it solely on strength in both physicals and magics and abilities. As for whether she’d participate in one again, she shoots him a shit eating grin and a nod. “Sure.” She decides quite quickly, before a chimed laugh leaves her. “I think seeing Fox’s reaction to just how much of a warrior I have been would be something to see.” It’s an additional reason why she’d be interested, but she is all the same. She’s talked about it with him, of course, but talking and seeing are vastly different things. And she can certainly see him like a little cheerleader on the sidelines for her. k i a d a

Deimos

Whether his suggestion would ever be taken on by others was given a firm shrug; considering they wouldn’t know where they’d be in a year’s time, especially with the current dilemmas coming to circle around their head. With the dishes dried, and Evie’s food left out for when she found time, Deimos leaned against the counter, studying Kiada and her reactions.

Which didn’t disappoint, given the grin in response. Well versed in the Harpy’s potentials and prowess, he arched a brow, giving a quiet chuckle before beginning to maneuver through the house again, figuring they were ready to depart. “You have not shown him your skills?” Given that Fox was a monster hunter, the Sword figured he had some talents as well – one had to be capable of maiming and fighting when dealing with a multitude of the Caido flora and fauna.

it's not the waking, it's the rising
It's the fire it ignites

She follows him dutifully as they meander out from the kitchen, a snicker leaving her at his question as she shakes her head and fetches her coat, already feeling better about the trek thus far in testing the limits of her protective garment. “No, I haven’t. Though something tells me he already believes it without proof.” Visual proof, perhaps, given that the scars were all etched over her body and the fact she’d come back to life. “I still think it would be amusing, though. And it’s admittedly been a while since I’ve had a good fight.” Since the last time Deimos and her had sparred, if she’s recalling correctly. Either way, tucked into her coat, with her gloves on and mood particularly chipper once again, she waits for him to finish up. “Lead the way.” She chimes, flashing a brilliant fanged smile his way. k i a d a

Deimos

Belial rampaged behind him, eager to be included in their modest trek, as much like before, Deimos sent out the signal for Zuriel to meet them out front. Meanwhile, he placed his assemblage of furs, gloves, and necessities on, snorting at Kiada’s implications. Perhaps he wasn’t like Evie, who despite knowing how difficult some of their skirmishes would be, still ran full tilt into them. Considering other implications involved though, he didn’t comment further on those regards. “Might as well test him. The barracks are still in place.” To which he shrugged, before opening the door as she obliged.

And so they could settle along the deck for a moment – his eyes scanning for the unicorn as she made her grand entrance – the mare also looking properly nonchalant about the whole thing. “I can have Belial scout them for us.” It would give the peryton an opportunity to spread his restless wings, and not have Kiada utilize so much energy in stalking; given the proximity and location of what they were doing. But he’d wait for approval of the decision, while the carnivorous deer flickered around both of their heels.

it's not the waking, it's the rising
It's the fire it ignites

“Ooh, that’s an idea.” She chimes with a bright grin, already filtering that away for later. She could at least kiss him better if she fucked him up too much in the process. Or, perhaps he could surprise her, and he’d be the one kissing her wounds. Either way, Kiada settles outside beside Deimos, ready to move whenever given the direction, and when he offers his thoughts Kiada’s head bobs in agreement from within her scarf. “That sounds good.” She would wait, until the second she was able to see one of the creatures, and with it the anticipation of making this coat stronger so that she wouldn’t be so uncomfortable in the winter, a feat that Kiada hopes works out in her favor so that she can visit more often. And unlike the last god quest she’d had, she fully intends on finishing this one. k i a d a

Deimos

The approval invoked and incensed Belial to his animated proportions, and Deimos nodded, permitting the peryton to fly off. The raptorial creature, utterly delighted by being permitted to irritate the local birds, streamlined in sight, allowing for both grounded individuals to watch as he soared, rotated, and sniffed the air, a Stygian blur over the tops of snow-covered roofs. “He is showing off,” Deimos murmured, with an arch of his brow and a shake of his head, attention deviating from his companion and to Kiada in a back and forth melee, watching for any notions she’d require an onslaught of fire.

But Belial wasted no time – and with an aggressive, irritating screech, cast his sights upon some ningo casually resting on a neighbor’s covering. No sooner had he called out did they take off – awakened – and he began to herd them directly towards the Sword’s domicile; granting Kiada ample opportunities with the miniature flock of three to cast an appropriate hunting response.

it's not the waking, it's the rising
It's the fire it ignites

“He’s really excited to.” Kiada says with a soft little laugh, adjusting the scarf a little around her face as she hovers nearby a torch, still managing to handle the cold well enough for the time being. Her iceberg gaze watches the peryton do his little show, before suddenly the Ningos are already on their way toward them. If she knew what a golden retriever was, she might have asked if he took after them. Luckily, she’s ready, and rather than shift (and likely freeze to death), she comes prepared with throwing knives stowed away, already beginning to slip one out of her sleeve, held in her gloved hands, aiming directly for the middle of the gaggle of ningos headed their way, prepping another in case it misses. k i a d a

Deimos

Perhaps they were fortunate for Belial’s enthusiasm, given the sudden onslaught sent their way. He watched, waiting, knowing full well he was mainly an orchestrator of means and measures here – this had to be done by Kiada and Kiada alone to count for her tasks and quests. So as tempting as it was to unleash a maelstrom upon the birds, this was the Harpy’s modicum to fight.

Belial continued to chase directly in their path, and Kiada’s knives flew. One missed entirely, a predictable faction given the difficulty in hitting moving, and flying targets. But the second snagged at a wing; sending the bird tailspinning while the rest of its flock maneuvered on, leaving the affected creature to fend for itself. "Good work," he noted, amused. Now it’d be up to Kiada to snag it before Belial did.

it's not the waking, it's the rising
It's the fire it ignites

The first swings wide and had she not been preparing for that, she might have cursed herself out for missing (though it has been a while since she’d practiced anything). But the second blade flies while the other is clattering to the snowy, cold ground, and she watches as it snags the wing as it starts to spin. Immediately rushing, this time with a small curse granted toward Belial, she beats the peryton to capturing the Ningo. It's still alive, though, and with the rush of running out to collect it, she’s warm enough to pull the third blade out to take the bird’s life, before picking it up to trudge back toward the warmth. “Do you want me to butcher it outside or..?” Maybe they have a large tub inside she’d missed that she could use, where it was warm and she could collect everything she needed to? k i a d a

Deimos

Belial hooted and hissed in dismay, but soldiered on while Deimos rolled his eyes – the peryton persisted in flying ahead to snag at what remained of the flock. But the Sword’s attention was on Kiada, watching for any sign or strain, for the cold to start sapping into her flesh and bones, and maneuvering swiftly to open the door for her. “I have a workshop in the backyard.” She could commit the actions there – and in between, garner enough warmth from the house to make the brief journey back into the cold. Zuriel snorted, aiming to wind her way along the property again.

So he led her through once more, closing the door behind her, feeling the warmth of the home’s hearth permeate, pervade, and surround, before they traced over the foundations of the outer portions – a nestled proportion where he could create at will and not crowd anything else with his experimentations on wood frames or the like. As they entered, she’d find another roaring fire, courtesy of his instantaneous magic, and portions where she could carry out the quest.

it's not the waking, it's the rising
It's the fire it ignites

She cares little in the moment about Belial’s thoughts over her taking that ningo. After all, there were plenty to choose from and the peryton didn’t have to worry about turning into a statue the longer he stayed out here. So, content to collect her kill – the warmth is evident in how it warms her hands and keeps them limber enough despite the gloves, and she steps through the door with ease and a swift grace that has her ensuring she doesn’t spill any blood on the interior of the home. The hearth begins to warm her immediately and she lingers for a second as they step through the cold once more with a violent shiver, until they’re in the workshop. Not as warm as the house, but still roaring and beautiful and she sighs with relief as the cold is kept out, setting the ningo on the worktable. “This is so cozy.” She comments, flashing him a grin over her shoulder as she tucks down the scarf and takes the gloves off, prepping by pulling all of the feathers and placing them in a cloth bag, and utilizes the knife nearby the butcher the ningo into pieces of meat, cleaned up and collected in its own separate section. “How should we prep the ice pack, do you think?” She asks, considering wrapping up the meat in another little bag to be placed on the one packed with ice and snow for transporting. The feathers themselves go into her jacket pocket, fully prepared and ready to be placed aside the rest of her things for her quest the second she got home. k i a d a

Deimos

Snorting at her response, he’d acknowledge its comforts in its sanctity and shelter – enough provisions to keep him entertained with potential, and out of the study where his maps, blueprints, and other portions were drawn. If Kiada looked closely she’d be able to spot several new munitions in line – including another massive trebuchet in the works – but scattered in pieces until he got everything just right and particular.

Regardless, his eyes followed the pathwork of her preparations, watching feathers come away, butchering proportions lined neatly. “I can make you a cooler,” which would insulate her necessities long enough for the ice to remain exactly so – probably until she could make it to the Hollowed Grounds from the skyport, at the very least, if it was loaded with the frozen wares. But he'd wait for the approval, or a better idea, before orchestrating the creations.

it's not the waking, it's the rising
It's the fire it ignites