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+---- Thread: [Training] top of the chimney (/showthread.php?tid=9984)
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top of the chimney - Deimos - 08-22-2024
With every intention of taking a detour towards Frey’s Breath, the Sword was only distracted and deterred from the sojourn by a singular, irritating peryton.
A long sigh, which was beginning to become habitual lately, unfurled from his chest as he rapidly followed the beast as he flew ahead, hooting and hollering as if he’d found something. [say]“Better be good,”[/say] he announced by way of a distinct and unamused rumble, anticipating that it was going to be something asinine. Like a bug.
The companion continued along the cavern corridors and avenues until Deimos recognized the Crust – and a distinct outline of someone else in the vicinity. Proud of himself, Belial declared and announced their presence by another loud round of squeals and taunts, echoing and reverberating off the chambers with a precise amplitude.
RE: top of the chimney - Astaroth - 08-22-2024
Once more off to the Climb for similar reasons, the trek there made much easier from the portal back to the Grounds — it gives him time to explore the varying changes the Climb has endured since he slept peacefully down below.
He’s a bit on edge, of course, the Crust harbored a multitude of gore crows. So far, though, the butcher has been free from the beasts (even if he’s pretty sure he isn’t that far away from where he’d once been chained as bird food.) The cane remains in hand, having been working on some hand eye coordination (as if he could swat away the avians if they arrived), tossing up a rock of volcanic grey and swinging with the cane right after, watching it disperse with a loud crack.
Dressed down from before but still in impeccable finery, he wears dark charcoal pants, a golden waistcoat over a teal silk shirt. The ash from the rock sprinkles down, marring revealed arms from sleeves that are rolled up. Any quiet control he harbors over himself and his appearance are immediately gone with the sound of ruffling wings, followed by Belial’s squawking taunts. Turning, on edge and with a look of surprise, the butcher regards the pair as they approach before loosening a sigh of relief and masks it with a shark toothed grin of greeting, trying to push back loosened long black hair from where it had fallen in a curtain against his forehead. “[say]Ah, hello Deimos.[/say]”
RE: top of the chimney - Deimos - 08-22-2024
Turned out it wasn’t a bug at all, but someone vaguely familiar from seasons and tournaments ago. [say]“Astaroth,”[/say] he rumbled in return towards the Ancient, and taking the peryton’s moment of inattention (staring at the man with a mischievous glint in his eye), he promptly directed a funnel of Air incantations towards the companion. With a rallying notion of movements not his own, Belial balked, but otherwise had no control as the incantations rushed him towards Deimos, and ultimately ended up underneath the Sword’s arm, trapped and visibly deflated. [say]“Sorry,”[/say] came by way of apology for the bonded’s antics.
Having saved the Grounder from an otherwise irritating gnat of a creature, his curiosity remained. Tilting his head vaguely, and only going a few steps and strides with the peryton still in tow, his brow arched, inquiries extended. [say]“What brings you here?”[/say] The presumption of simply being ‘The Climb’ hadn’t escaped his notice – figuring it was a welcome retreat for the Ancient.
RE: top of the chimney - Astaroth - 08-22-2024
Inclining his head as the cane’s tip meets the crust of the earth, Astaroth’s grin is still naught more than a mask as he watches the peryton begin to flutter back toward the hybrid on a wind that the butcher now can likely assume is of Deimos’ own making. Straightening out once Belial is contained, he shakes his head with a soft accented laugh — a touch more Whitebrim than before, as if still somewhat off by the whole ordeal. “[say]It is fine. Truly.[/say]” Glancing back toward the companion, his gaze lifts back to Deimos’ own after a few heartbeats.
“[say]Nostalgia and warmth, mostly. What brings you all this way?[/say]” He doesn’t admit the fact he’s out here practicing batting techniques against the volcanic rock plucked from the surface of the earth, nor the fact that Halo isn’t really all that far away from the Climb. Instead, simply standing there to watch the Sword’s approach, leaning heavily on the cane, a too sharp smile still aimed his direction bordering on a touch of chaotic franticness.
RE: top of the chimney - Deimos - 08-23-2024
With Astaroth not offended by the peryton’s ridiculous airs, Deimos was left eyeing the critter with a slight wrinkle to his nose, keeping him tucked underneath his arm for the moment. The answer of ‘nostalgia and warmth’ left him pondering; but he could understand those aspects - that incessant and inherent need to wander back to where things had begun, and then sometimes being incapable of doing so. At least in this lifetime, the Sword always had Halo.
Unaware of just how far history stretched for the Ancient, he left it into the annals of his curious mind and no further. [say]“Was heading to Frey’s Breath.”[/say] Turned around by the companion wasn’t a grand excuse, but there it was, just the same. Furrowing his brows, he half-wondered if Kiada had spread the information as far and wide as he’d wanted - but the other man’s reaction would likely preside over that.
RE: top of the chimney - Astaroth - 08-23-2024
Nostalgia, for the butcher, is a cruel mistress. Bolstered by the need of recalling what it was like to be the version of him he’s trying to return to yet also reminded of the cruelties sustained within the very caverns below them, Astaroth finds that it sits better as both a warning and a reminder. The mention of Frey’s breath perks him up, and rather than stand there as a tall, lanky gargoyle, he finally moves a little. Loosening his limbs as a breath escapes him, he nods and glances back down the cavern from which they’d emerged from.
“[say]Hunting for lilies, I presume?[/say]” He asks, gesturing with the cane still in hand. His gaze drops a moment after back toward the peryton, perhaps feeling bad for the moment that the companion remains trapped within Deimos’ strong arm. “[say]Curious question, does he have a taste for gore crows?[/say]” Nodding toward Belial, the butcher raises a dark brow as he focuses on Deimos again. He makes a lot of assumptions here, but the largest two being that Belial was male, and that he was carnivorous.
He’s pretty sure the peryton is the first one he’s ever seen.
RE: top of the chimney - Deimos - 08-23-2024
History was an outline of so many of Deimos’ decisions and motivations; lines dug deep and whittled into his bones. But he didn’t let it chain him, presently anyway, save for those moments where it clawed into dominions of rib cages and souls. Even the aforementioned lilies could bring forth a whole host of haunted memories, times from before where sickness drove at his mind. [say]“Yes. Though I have not heard of any being found.”[/say] He didn’t count the one in Hadama’s staff from previous predecessors.
The question about Belial caused his head to tilt, pondering over circumstances and the specificity, eyes narrowing briefly. The aforementioned beast perked up readily, as if he was quite willing to give chase to such matters, tail wagging, squirming in the Sword’s tightening grasp. [say]“Probably. Are you hunting some?” [/say]
RE: top of the chimney - Astaroth - 08-23-2024
“[say]I have not either, thus far.[/say]” He says on the heels of a sigh, one that doesn’t last as the peryton traps his curiosity. Feathered beasts weren’t his favorites, but the cool color scheme of the companion (and the fact he doesn’t look wholly avian) helps keep him from getting too flighty. As it stands, the grin remains, and a soft laugh leaves him as he shakes his head again.
“[say]Oh Dygra, no. I am practicing just on the off chance any show up. Terrible beasts, they are. They tend to congregate around here.[/say]” A thought sparks mischief in his gaze and he starts to move a bit closer to the center of the earth they’ve met upon, leaving behind the cracked rocks of the Crust for the moment. “[say]Perhaps he may like the chance of warding them away? And in an additional favor, perhaps you could teach me some unique tricks regarding your status as Caido’s strongest?[/say]” Bouncing a brow playfully, he knows it’s wholly one sided. He also knows how much he despises owing favors.
Yet, still on edge, it’s a risk he’s willing to take if only to ensure the murder of gore crows remains as far away from him as possible.
RE: top of the chimney - Deimos - 08-23-2024
He could concur - the gore crows truly were terrible, ominous things, and he’d often took great delight in demolishing them. Favors and capacities aside, another portion began to meander through his mind, until it was more than a mere calculation - though he had to snort at the ‘Caido’s strongest’ sentiment. [say]“If he behaves himself,”[/say] he warned essentially the peryton only - and permitted the animal to wiggle out of his makeshift captivity. By way of excitement and glee, the youthful beast hooted and squealed again, before taking flight, soaring above and ensuring no crows came near. Hopefully.
Turning his head back to survey Astaroth, and presuming a litany of Ancient tricks and incantations he wasn’t familiar with, he rounded his own proclamations and possibilities. [say]“I can, though perhaps you would be able to assist me with a quest then.”[/say] An easy transaction, he figured and supposed. Then no one was owing anything.
Taking hold of his Gambler’s Gloves, and uncertain if the butcher would recognize them for their worth, he gave no footnote of their peculiarities. [say]“I need to be able to get these back from someone who has taken them.”[/say] Meaning they’d be able to bound back and forth over one another with enchantments and strategy in some safe confines.
RE: top of the chimney - Astaroth - 08-23-2024
Watching the peryton wiggle free from the grasp, the butcher’s smile twists a touch more painted than it had been before, but he watches nonetheless as Belial takes to the skies to hopefully ward away any gore crows from ruining what would otherwise be a good day.
Attention drawn back to the Sword, his dark honey gaze focuses on the gloves in question — recognizing them from the fight yet not knowing their magical prowess, he shifts the cane to his other hand as he dips his chin in acceptance. “[say]Of course.[/say]” The agreement is easy, even the way his tail weaves comfortably, low yet hovering above the rocky earth. “[say]I’m afraid I won’t put up nearly as much of a challenge as the tournament’s participants.[/say]” It’s on an air of another accented chuckle, before he’s stepping forward with a hand outstretched, unsure if he’s to already have them or try to take them.
He’s sure Deimos will tell him either way.
RE: top of the chimney - Deimos - 08-23-2024
While Belial entertained himself hovering and growling at nothing, Deimos waited for the arrangements to flicker into place. The agreement seemed swift, and so he narrowed his eyes, and nodded, placing the gloves into Astaroth’s grasp.
There was a snort at the indication of tournament participants. [say]“Oh? Not going to be two of you?”[/say] The Sword had never discussed the fairness of everything involved in the matters - had taken it all in stride and still won, but there’d been several moments within that he wondered had been completely necessary. Like knocking his soul out of his own body. [say]“Are there any specifics you want to work on?”[/say] His awareness of Ancient tactics only truly involved Kiada’s abilities, and certainly more centered and focused on the aspects of fire, or glamour. Already beginning to turn and shift his long strides away from the Ancient, to perhaps buy the other man some time, strategy, and semantics, while the Warden plotted his own.
RE: top of the chimney - Astaroth - 08-23-2024
The question, as he receives the gloves and looks them over, hoisting the cane into the crook of his elbow, brings a dark and amused laugh from the butcher’s lips as he shakes his head. “[say]Alas, it is not in my repertoire.[/say]” Flashing Deimos a toothy grin, he shakes his head and slips the gloves on — just to make it that much more difficult.
As for what he wishes to work on, his head tilts this way and that before a thought comes to mind. “[say]I don’t suppose you have healing magic, do you?[/say]” He asks initially, wondering whether it would be worth staining his clothes for the bloodbane — yet also not wishing to worry Danta on the off chance he came back home mauled. He doesn’t specifically state what the magic is, either, choosing to let Deimos figure it out on his own.
“[say]Ah! And it seems my dear Dygra has been creative since we’ve woken. There is new magic I did not have the privilege of having before I’d fallen into stasis.[/say]” Granted, it would be difficult here unless fire sparked for his shadows to be toyed with, but the faint line of the tall thin one he casts warbles with intensity as the butcher unbuttons the top button of his shirt and prepares for Deimos to make the first move, cane in gloved hand.
RE: top of the chimney - Deimos - 08-23-2024
His eyes narrowed again in speculation; pondering just what he’d be up against. While he might’ve been strong and capable, Deimos never once underestimated an opponent. That was how one often ended up dead - he’d seen it enough on battlefields and war frames alike. Though, at the very least, he wouldn’t have two Astaroths giving chase.
The healing magic question caught him off-guard, but he only unleashed a minor snort. [say]“I do not.”[/say] The option hadn’t even been there for him up until a season or so ago, and even then, he wasn’t certain about being able to wield such things - he’d never been the type to mend and soothe; often the direct opposite. But he took the inquiry to mean not too much battering or maiming; he hadn’t intended to anyway.
New incantations left another brow arched, but otherwise, he began unraveling his own. The enchantments rankled and contorted under his predilections, launching forth along the earth beneath Asta’s feet, intending to rattle and throw him off-balance, to trip or stumble or merely fall.
RE: top of the chimney - Astaroth - 08-23-2024
It was a silent agreement they both could get behind - only because the butcher tended to focus on studying an opponent to visualize weaknesses. That, and due to his namesake and his proclivities, he tends to know where is best to aim for maximum pain. That isn’t the theme here, though, it’s simply a matter of trying to keep the gloves on his person, even if they were certainly molded for Deimos’ hands rather than his own. The grip on the cane is strong enough to make the extra length in the fingers seem unnoticeable as he prepares.
“[say]Good to know.[/say]” He hums, flashing a grin that’s still too sharp, but making a mental note to not utilize his bloodbane unless absolutely necessary (unsure how much it would take out of him to try and take a notch out of Deimos in the process).
Before he can say anything else, the ground begins to move, the volcanic earth beneath his feet shifting and maneuvering like a self contained earthquake and it just so happens (thanks to the luck of the gloves without him realizing what exactly they did), that it did keep the butcher mostly upright. The cane snaps out to land hard in the ground, leaning on it as he twists and moves surprisingly quick for a man of his height (though he doesn’t have the bulk to back it up). Trying to get his feet under him on ground that isn’t still moving, he sparks fire from his hands as a dark laugh chuckles out of him, sending a wave of it across the air between them and hopefully close enough to get into Deimos’ comfort zone.