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+---- Thread: everybody wants to be my enemy (/showthread.php?tid=11540)
everybody wants to be my enemy - Dorian - 06-18-2025
The hearth in the front parlour crackled quietly, its fire stoked but not roaring—just enough to take the edge off the Deepfrost cold that clung to the barracks like breath to glass. Boots thudded across stone floors, swords clinked faintly in their racks, and beyond the shuttered windows, Halo’s ever-present snow whispered against the walls like it was listening.
But in Deimos’ office, there was only silence.
Dorian stood near the far wall, his back to the door, framed by the firelight. His coat was dark and tailored, warm enough for the tundra but refined enough to belong in a palace. He hadn’t touched anything, not yet—his gloved hands were clasped neatly behind him, the picture of patient civility. His gaze, however, moved with unmistakable curiosity.
Maps pinned to cork. Old banners folded with reverence. A long-handled axe mounted above the hearth, the edge notched from real use. Several worn books lined a shelf in orderly fashion, and above them, a wolf’s skull stared blankly into the room like a sentinel long past its prime.
Dorian’s head tilted slightly as he observed it, a faint smile playing at his lips. It was all so… disciplined. So precise. So thoroughly Deimos.
Behind him, down the stairs and into the front hall, a soldier in steel-stiff armour shifted uneasily. Clearing his throat, he approached the Warden’s latest position near the training grounds and gave a sharp nod of respect. [say]"Sir,"[/say] the man said, breath misting between them. [say]"There’s a…visitor. In your office."[/say] A pause. [say]"I didn't catch his name."[/say]
RE: everybody wants to be my enemy - Deimos - 06-18-2025
It wasn’t uncommon for Deimos to be summoned back into his office, and so despite the interruption to the tasks at hand, he gave the uneasy soldier a nod, complying with the notions of intrusion once more. Everything else was makeshift and habitual – passing his status on to a few fellow warriors as they hemmed and hawed in understanding, before ducking away from the spars, and heading into the room.
Sure enough, as he wandered in, there was a stranger in the midst. With no name or purpose given, he remained stoic and guarded, he gave low rumble of greeting, lingering along the threshold of the door, head tilted, striving to analyze the situation. [say]“Hello. Can I help you?”[/say] Nowadays, it could be anything at all.
RE: everybody wants to be my enemy - Dorian - 06-18-2025
Dorian turned with the ease of someone who had been expecting company all along.
The warmth in his smile was immediate, genuine in appearance if not in intent. The firelight caught the edges of his profile as he offered the Warden a look of pleasant interest, as though Deimos were an old friend arriving late to tea rather than the general of Halo’s elite guards and keeper of Halo herself.
[say]"Ah—actually,"[/say] he said, with a low, amused lilt, [say]"I rather think I can help you, Deimos."[/say]
His eyes drifted, unhurried, from Deimos’ shoulders to his posture to the faint edge in his voice—reading him, cataloguing the tension, the calculation. And still Dorian stood with perfect decorum: hands clasped behind his back, shoulders relaxed, the very picture of a man who’d brought a solution rather than a threat.
[say]"I’ve come with a proposal. One I think you’ll find…"[/say] He glanced upward, eyes wandering briefly to the war maps pinned behind the desk, [say]"timely."[/say]
A soft laugh escaped him then—charming, self-deprecating—and he shook his head slightly, as if remembering himself. [say]"But listen to me, prattling on without manners. I’ve forgotten the formalities, haven’t I?"[/say] One hand extended, gloved but open in polite offering.
[say]"My name is Dorian,"[/say] he said, as if it might mean nothing at all. Then, after the faintest pause, he added with calm precision, [say]"Head of the Family."[/say]
RE: everybody wants to be my enemy - Deimos - 06-18-2025
The only thing breaking over the stoic fold was an arch of his brow at the notions of helping him. And he might’ve said something else, had the stranger not persisted and continued, with notions of proposals and timely insinuations – a hand reaching forward – and Deimos not reaching back as introductions were made.
Dorian. Head of the Family.
The only imperceptible change in his demeanor to follow was a tilt of his head, all the calm, composed lines well practiced and versed, gaze sweeping over the other man, collecting depictions, images, securing them in his mind. The other was likely doing the same - and he pushed down the urge to clench his jaw. The notes of trepidation would come later, if at all, depending on how this situation churned and turned. [say]“I see,”[/say] and he nodded, before summoning a long breath. [say]“What sort of proposal?”[/say]
RE: everybody wants to be my enemy - Dorian - 06-18-2025
Dorian chuckled—not cruelly, but with the soft amusement of someone who’d already placed the pieces on the board and was only now inviting his opponent to play. He let his extended hand fall back to his side with a graceful flick of his wrist, unshaken by Deimos’ lack of reciprocation. In truth, he hadn’t expected the Warden to take it. His reputation had arrived in the room long before he had. [say]"Of course not,"[/say] he chuckled humourlessly, shaking his head faintly as he turned his back and resumed his quiet inspection of the office.
He drifted past the hearth, his gloved fingers ghosting near the edge of a weathered map without quite touching it. His tone remained casual, almost courteous, as though they were discussing terms of a trade shipment rather than matters of existential consequence. [say]"I won’t keep you long from your duties,"[/say] he went on, pausing beside a rack of weapons and tilting his head faintly at the craftsmanship of a longsword hung for display. [say]"You'll find this is quite a simple proposal."[/say]
He turned, just enough to glance at Deimos from over his shoulder.
[say]"If you agree to stay out of our affairs—no more jaunts to Starfall, no more tossing flowers to friends, no more invisible daggers into backs and so on—then I will ensure Halo’s safety. Entirely."[/say] Dorian faced him fully now, hands once more folded behind his back. [say]"No Family member will cross into your lands, not even Vox. We’ll withdraw the voidlings from the tundra as a gesture of good faith. Your people can train, hunt, rebuild, and sleep through whatever is going to come next, without hearing a single whisper of us beyond your walls."[/say]
He smiled then—small, regretful, almost fatherly. [say]"I do understand,"[/say] he said gently, [say]"that decisions like these often require careful thought. A war council, perhaps, letters at the very least. A long stare at a fire and the opinions of trusted soldiers."[/say] A brief pause. [say]"But I’m afraid I’ll need your answer now."[/say]
RE: everybody wants to be my enemy - Deimos - 06-18-2025
Deimos had always been an avid listener. So despite the lingering threat, the bolder endeavors, he did exactly that – trying to parse through the layers, the pretenses. And despite all those stoic lines, all the cool, calm compositions, it seemed Dorian knew exactly where to hit and poise and dangle the bait.
He couldn’t deny the notions were tempting. An enticement. The Sword very rarely found himself lured or snared or beckoned forth on carrots and strings, on dynamics of which his entire life had revolved around and focused on for the past seasons. No more journeys to Starfall, no more flower searching, no more putting himself constantly at risk, all to ensure Halo, his friends, his family, his region, was safe. They’d be sheltered and sanctified.
Except – then what of Caido? He wasn’t one to believe himself a linchpin – but their combined efforts had been necessary. If he were to stop, if he were to simply cease and desist while the rest of them fought, who was he at all? What had he been doing this entire time? Would he be willing to place more of the burdens upon Hadama, Sunjata, Noah, Sah, and the continued list of those who persisted, bowing their heads, and soldiering on?
Or was this all a ruse? What would be left of the outside world, if he were to give in? Would he be willing to sacrifice those within other regions, other kingdoms, so their icy world could become its own prison?
There was nothing easy about the answer forming in his mind – decisive, despite the webs woven around and around and around, the quiet calculations forming. He could’ve been leading his own to slaughter. He could’ve been sinking down an inevitable line, drowning them all. But what good would their efforts had been, to relinquish it now? Why sink daggers into the backs of enemies? Why throw it away, when they were already so close? He took a long, deep breath, let the air fill his lung cavities, flicker against the ramparts. [say]“Then I will have to decline.”[/say]
RE: everybody wants to be my enemy - Dorian - 06-18-2025
Dorian inclined his head, the gesture subtle, gracious—like a disappointed dinner host receiving word that a guest would not be staying for dessert. [say]"A shame,"[/say] he said lightly, as if Deimos had simply passed on an hors d'oeuvre. [say]"Decisions like that is why there will be so many casualties to come."[/say]
He turned toward the door, not with frustration, nor haste, but with the languid precision of someone who’d already anticipated this outcome. One hand emerged from behind his back to trace lazily along the edge of a map pinned beside the doorframe, the other unhurried as it reached for the handle. [say]"But do try to remember when we next see one another—"[/say] he glanced sidelong, voice dropping just enough to become silk stretched over steel [say]"—that you were offered the carrot, before the stick."[/say]
The door creaked open under his hand, light spilling into the room. But Dorian lingered a moment more in the threshold, just long enough to turn his head over his shoulder. That same genteel smile played at his lips—charming, almost apologetic.
[say]"I imagine it’s difficult,"[/say] he mused, as if to himself. [say]"Balancing so many responsibilities. A region. A war. A family."[/say] His eyes met Deimos’ then—blue, glacial, and terribly sincere. [say]"Yours is lovely, by the way. Hopefully they don't get caught up in this awful mess."[/say]
And with a parting smile so warm it left frost in its wake, Dorian stepped through the door and disappeared down the hall, humming a quiet, thoughtful tune.
~FIN