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if only for a time - Bastien - 12-22-2020
Truthfully, he didn't expect this to go anywhere, but he had an obligation and responsibility to try; to ask Deimos for his help, anything that would assist them in the mission to come. Fighting the Longnight monsters would surely be difficult, perhaps one of the hardest tasks the Ascended (and Bastien himself) had ever undertaken. It was fear and dread that drove him to Halo, in the hopes that Deimos might somehow have a miracle to make the whole thing more feasible.
He'd decided to bring Azrael with him; they had never been to Halo, after all, and it was a scenic place, with many places in the mountain hike to stop and look over the valleys and peaks, see the sun on the crisp snow. The Citadel too was an impressive place to visit, in some ways the tight streets and busy crowds reminding Bastien of Venice (if it had been much, much colder).
There was time for sightseeing later, though; the first order of business was to see Deimos. Azrael following behind him, Bastien headed for the council hall. He had asked for a meeting with the General and had been told he could find him here, that there were rooms to discuss things in - fortunate, because he wasn't sure this was the kind of thing one spoke about in earshot of everyone. Idly chatting to Az, he waited in the hall, trying to think over what he would say.
RE: if only for a time - Deimos - 12-22-2020
Deimos preferred the actions and noise of the barracks, compared to the office he used infrequently. The training grounds, the slide of steel, the vehemence, and the distinction of growth, of learning, of instruction, was a far more comfortable thing to him than the four walls and a desk, than the notions of diplomacy and politics. Movement, motion, measures, and machinations would coast and circumvent through his mind, but the partiality and predilection towards the calculations immersed in defense, in shielding, in sieges, made sitting behind a writing table difficult. But he’d been asked for, and had it not been someone like Bastien, who he considered a friend, then he might’ve been an impassive, reticent void – requesting they hold discussions within the quarters where the tenors of demolition and destruction could be heard.
Except, based on recent notice board posts, this might’ve been something not meant for everyone else’s ears.
The Sword would feign innocence and ignorance for now, opening the door of his office at the scheduled time, to find the Ascended nearby, and not alone.
Something slid within his spine and out through his heart at the sight of what must’ve been Azrael – Rexanna’s last child, with resemblances of both mother and father uncanny. It took him several moments of recomposing his features from something not so stunned, eyes not so widened, guilt not so heavy; but perhaps that would never truly go away, no matter how many times the Penumbra told him the blame didn’t rest on his shoulders. His gaze went back to the artist and ambassador first, a nod, the slightest of smiles. [say]“Bastien,”[/say] and then to the child, for whom he’d crafted toys not many seasons ago, already aged. [say]“Azrael.”[/say] He removed himself from the doorway, allowing entry, where there were chairs near the desk, the otherwise Spartan room (adorned with a few weapons, papers, diagrams, sketches) leaving little to impress upon. [say]“What brings you here?”[/say]
RE: if only for a time - Azrael - 12-22-2020
They don’t think they’ve ever seen so much snow. It’s both surprising and exciting, knowing little to nothing about how it should be incredibly cold for them, something to appreciate indoors with a warm drink in hand, bundled up every inch of the way should they go outside. They don’t know all of this, and it’s with excitement that they follow their father along the path to Deimos, eyes bright and wide, soaking in every bit of what had been built, of life outside in such cold temperatures, of hardened people making the most of things.
This is what they want the Ruin’s remodeling to be, something vibrant and happy and bright. But they’d been promised they could sightsee later, and so dutifully, the demigod follows their father until they stop and wait, partaking in easy chatter with their father until the door opens and a man stands within, peering out and down at them.
The pause in Deimos is lost on Azrael, who instead flashes a brilliantly fanged grin — so much like Rexanna’s — dark curls bouncing around their head as they move up on their tiptoes a bit in excitement. “[say]Hi uncle Deimos!![/say]” They chime, though they settle quite quickly, having arrived on business and business of which Bastien was better suited to.
But they follow their father in so the discussions could begin, Azrael immediately drawn to the weaponry and diagrams adorned all around. They take it in with an appreciative eye, honeyed like Bastien’s, ringed with the deep sapphire of Rexanna’s, before they settle in a chair and wait silently for the conversation to begin. Simply, observing.
RE: if only for a time - Bastien - 12-31-2020
Bastien, ever perceptive when it came to the people around him, picked up on Deimos' shock as the General first laid eyes on Azrael; he watched carefully to see if anything would be said (and a defensive part of him wondered if Deimos considered his child an abomination as others did); when it wasn't he smiled and came to sit down, pleased to see Azrael quietly sitting too.
Chuckling first upon hearing Deimos had earned the title of 'Uncle', he turned to speak, to get right to business. [say]"Unfortunately not only social needs or the enjoyment of the nature. Wessex asked me to come and speak with you - are you aware of her plans for Longnight? To take on the beasts?"[/say] It was hard to keep emotion from his voice at this, both fear and hatred in his heart at the thought of the twisted monsters, but for Azrael's sake he tried his best. [say]"She sent me to ask if you had anything that might help in that task, monumental as it is. Fire-based, she said."[/say]
RE: if only for a time - Deimos - 12-31-2020
Deimos would never think anything from Rexanna was an abomination, children included. While he had once questioned her timing, and parental skills, the chances and opportunities this world had given her had also granted Azrael. It didn’t make it any less painful though, those harsh, blunt, reeling reminders of his mistakes, of his errors, when a smile beckoned towards him - a grin so much like the Penumbra’s, so much like Kiada’s - slashed against his soul. Perhaps the worst portion, or the best, reeled thereafter on a chime, on echoes of excitement, on the words bounding and ricocheting in his ears (hi Uncle Deimos loud and clear). The monolith schooled his expression as best he could, fighting a sudden onslaught, a wave, barreling and blasting through his chest, curling over his heart and staying in its seditious edges. A part of him wanted to run, back into shadows, back into seclusion, isolation, stumble back on his sins and remain there, for it was all he deserved. The other portion of his presence had an urge to crouch near the child and beg for some amount of forgiveness, biting back the tempestuous edges of his pain.
So, he did neither.
Instead, on steadying breaths, on pressing strides, he crossed back over to the room, settling in the chair behind his desk. A small smile somehow managed to war and wage its way along his mouth, fighting over all the other seething, reeling emotions, hands going to a piece of paper. [say]“Do you still enjoy building things? I have a sketch that could use another’s discerning eye.”[/say] Engineering diagrams, plans he’d intended to eventually show to the Warden in case they’d be able to find a way to leave the portal open for a future Deepfrost; this one coming too quickly.
Striving to keep himself together, the piercing gaze meandered away from the youth, and back to the Ascended; matters of business and diplomacy to attend to. His head tilted a fraction, miring and spiraling back to the thought of upcoming LongNight, notices he’d seen posted. [say]“Yes.”[/say] A pause, a clench to his jaw, a narrowing of his eyes that only lasted a few seconds, but the distinction clear. [say]“Will you be fighting?”[/say] The implications of it all collided and bound, amongst and amidst the various other conversations immersed into the dastardly, lethal week.
The inquiry about weapons wasn’t surprising, though his answer might be disappointing; mind reeling back to his array of items and materials, but he’d always had his own inferno, his own conflagrations. [say]“I do not.”[/say] Another breath, and then a flickering, following offer. [say]“I am limited in my magical creation. However, I might be able to make something in the upcoming season.”[/say] The only trial and tribulation being the fact that Halo could be locked down.
RE: if only for a time - Azrael - 01-01-2021
They don’t realize what their words bring to the Sword. They do realize that they’re quite excited to meet him while they can fully remember and make these new memories with him. There is a question aimed toward them, a brief smile on the General’s face that’s met with a bright and vibrant fanged one of their own. “[say]I do![/say]” They chime, unable to imagine them doing anything else. But their dark eyes are wide with wonder, with excitement at the prospect of looking over the sketch while their father and the General speak.
Of course, they listen in with it as well, because they’re young and a part of it all inadvertently, their gaze immediately snapping to their father when it comes to the question of fighting. Azrael won’t be, but they will be close by just in case, because as they’ve found out – they can heal the Ascended. And with this battle that arrives, there’s nothing more that they want to do other than help where they can.
Everyone knows they’re not a fighter, anyway.
But they say nothing, choosing to focus on the sketches instead.
RE: if only for a time - Bastien - 01-04-2021
Bastien watched with a fond, warm smile as Deimos entertained Azrael with the sketch, thinking it very sweet indeed and not noticing the internal toil the man was having; when it came to his child he was hyper-vigilant that no one would be cruel to them, and everything else was secondary. He knew he had brought them into a world that could, probably would, be hostile, and making sure that happened as late as possible took precedence.
As for their business, he straightened out his clothes and expression and nodded. [say]"Yes, I suppose. Not one of my talents, but...we all have to pitch in. I must admit I'm hoping to stay to the back of any assaults."[/say] Bastien saw no shame in that; it was a simple true fact that he was not a fighter. [say]"Of course, Azrael will be staying somewhere safe."[/say]
He had come to Deimos expecting a no, so he wasn't too surprised when it happened, though it did have an addition. [say]"Hm. Is there a way for you to bring anything you make to us, though?"[/say]
RE: if only for a time - Deimos - 01-04-2021
His attention went back to Azrael first – handing over the sheet of paper, the small smile still there, not yet worn away. The diagram itself was that of something close to a covered bridge, without the water underneath, but semblances of snow – an extension of what could’ve been a road to the portal, to the rising Fangs and its mountaintops. The enclosure itself looked to have been modeled in timber, lumber, roof, decking, siding, recalled from ages of old, where the structures could linger and live on for lengthy periods of time without constant need of repair. Beside a few of his scrawls lined with question marks, mainly ideas floating to the surface of his mind at the time, written down so they weren’t forgotten in the cluster and coil of his other machinations and musings. Especially towards the roof – labeled with his marked penmanship of wood? and metal?. Both achievable, but uncertain what would be best – free for the Ascended child to peruse, reflect, and note. [say]“Let me know what you think,”[/say] he uttered, another rumble, before sliding his gaze over to Bastien.
He hid the sigh over the artist fighting. There could’ve been a multitude of reasons for it – Bastien not suitable for the task, Bastien dying on the battlefield and leaving Azrael alone, when there might’ve been some other place his talents could be utilized. But the Ascended would already know the dangers, already know the torture, already know the weight and horror of past experiences. And it was his decision, ultimately. So the Sword made no comments, nothing more than a nod. An understanding, even the potential result came with a heavy price. Maybe that could be said for a lot of them heading into the darkest of nights.
The question directed though might have a far more simplistic answer than the other ominous fathoms. [say]“Wessex can teleport.”[/say] He’d seen the Wraith do it a number of times, bending and blending into shadows, maneuvering in one direction, ultimately ending up in another one entirely. If she wanted the weapon badly enough, he figured she’d be able to come and get it. [say]“You can inform her I am willing to make the weapon.” [/say] A pause, a head tilt, a glance towards his desk, before flicking his gaze upwards again. [say]“Was there an idea of what was needed?”[/say] So he could start drawing up some sort of plan?
RE: if only for a time - Azrael - 01-04-2021
The sketches are handed over, a sheet of paper that their eyes are immediately drawn to – the rest of the conversation long forgotten by the time their eyes rove over the drawings and the question marks. And really, it’s a brilliantly beautiful idea, one that has a bright smile lingering on Azrael’s lips, one where they could be of use for this. Something that called to them and really sparked that mind of theirs.
They find the question marks, thinking it over, taking another sheet of paper to write notes upon, and quickly snipes a pencil from Deimos’ desk while the adults talk over plans. On their notes, they create a quick little re-render of the bridge, edging it out with metal constructs, perhaps wondering if the fires that always stayed lit in Halo might benefit being under the edges of the bridge to heat away the ice.
After a moment, they chew on their lower lip, moving onto the roof now as they focus on the question marks left behind. They scrawl a quick little “metal” into it, adding a small sloped roof on the top that edges in an apex so the snow would have no place to pile up but to simply fall off the sides.
RE: if only for a time - Bastien - 01-09-2021
Bastien watched Azrael in the moments between conversation as well, with a distinctly proud expression; they had picked up his creative sense, it seemed. Not in the same way, Azrael's imagination far more preoccupied with straight lines and measurements than Bastien's had ever been, his mind full of swirls and graceful figures leaning across painted skies - but it was still a creation, something produced by his child, and he loved to see it.
Oh, he knew he wasn't really suited for the battlefield. That it was an awful idea. But that wasn't something he wanted to discuss in front of Azrael, not wanting them to worry about him: he would make it through. He had to. He was grateful that Deimos did not ask further.
[say]"Ah, wonderful idea."[/say] When it came to what was needed, something that was indeed an important question here, Bastien blinked; he had not considered that. The artist had never struggled with improvising answers though, and quickly recovered, saying: [say]"Well, she said fire. Perhaps something that could shoot out fire, but maintain the safety of the user. We Ascended are not fans of the heat, as I'm sure you know."[/say]
RE: if only for a time - Deimos - 01-10-2021
Patient and composed, forbearing, tolerant, and often resigned, Deimos didn’t dig any further into the horrors of LongNight, the ominous potentials, and the unfortunate possibilities. They wouldn’t need to be spelled out for Bastien anyway. But perhaps this would be the last one, embittered and scorched, treacherous and lethal, and the Grounds would be freed of the noxious, binding touch of the Voice’s experiments – no more freedom, liberation, or deliverance for fiends only seeking annihilation. One less nightmare in a world full of them. It was not like the Sword to be hopeful; but perhaps this once he could be for those striving to embark into the dark.
[say]“I am aware,”[/say] instigated the slightest of smirks, though it dimmed thereafter. Fire, while maintaining the safety of the implementing individual. His first thoughts were something like a cannon, capable of shooting semblances of flames from a distant range; but he could not imagine Wessex attempting to haul it while teleporting. Something lighter, more manageable. Another notion to think about. [say]“I will mull it over.”[/say] A pause, pondering, wondering, shrugging his shoulders. [say]“Was there anything else?”[/say] Needed, required?
His attention hadn’t truly wavered from Azrael’s movement and motions either; watching from the corner of his eye as the youth seemed to study and examine his sketches, then rendered their own notes. He hid the snort of amusement, quelling it in his chest, and when done with his records, entries, and reminders, turned back to the Ascended child. [say]“Have you found some place for improvements?”[/say] A quirk of his brow, and the lightest of smiles followed – eager to see what sort of mind Rexanna’s offspring had, and where his plans, his construction, his modes of thought could be refined and enhanced as well.
RE: if only for a time - Azrael - 01-10-2021
For the most part, they remain out of the conversation of LongNight. But there’s a few instances where their thoughts are driven back toward the other conversation – their pencil pausing as they tap the end of it against their notes, their dark brows furrowing together as Deimos mentions he’ll mull over some ideas. “[say]Maybe… A net launcher of some kind? One that… Could catch fire once it’s launched?[/say]” Their head cocks a brief moment, before they shake their head and glance to their father perhaps a bit sheepishly. “[say]Maybe… We can talk to Wessex first.[/say]” Comes their quiet concession, soft and attempting to be more reserved than their otherwise childish impulse would show.
As for their work, however, their gaze returns to Deimos with another wide grin. “[say]I did![/say]” There’s no shame or flaunting with this, just pure excitement to share their thoughts as well. And now that it seemed like the conversation between their father and uncle were over, they move to take up a bit of space on the desk, in perfect view for Bastien and Deimos to look at it alike.
“[say]I thought… That if it was made of metal it would be easier to heat and help prevent it icing up or getting a lot of snow on it? And the edges could go down in a ramp style so it would slide off…[/say]” They pause, gesturing with the pencil to their notes and their own little sketches – quite straight lined and specific in comparison to Bastien’s flowing artworks, but Bastien’s influence still settled within. “[say]And here, for the roof, if you slope them at a sharp enough angle it should keep the snow from piling up and causing it to need repairs. If you make it perfectly flat it should just slide off![/say]” Their dark eyes lift to Deimos with a proud grin. “[say]I hope it helps![/say]”
RE: if only for a time - Bastien - 01-12-2021
Bastien nodded, returning Deimos' smile, though his own was weak. It was good to have plans, to have confirmation of his help, but that he was here at all, negotiating supplies for a battle...it went against the artist's nature, and every step of it was another reminder of what he would have to do at the end of the season. Shaking his head at the question, he laced his fingers together and looked over to Azrael, letting the sight of them be a balm on his fears for a moment.
Gods, he was proud of them. So enthusiastic, so ready to help, so creative; everything he'd wanted in a child. He just wished Rexanna was there to see it, but in her absence, Azrael shone bright, much of the same light he'd seen in his wife there in their child. [say]"Wow, a very detailed plan, Azrael. Perhaps we should give Deimos time to digest it and have him write us about it later."[/say] He suggested, standing up; they did not have the time to stay long - getting back to the Grounds in time for the season change was imperative.
(Bastien will head out)
RE: if only for a time - Deimos - 01-12-2021
Net launchers, items to catch fire upon their descent, a multitude of things he jots down but has no finite say on until something precise and clear was warranted, wanted. The Sword had no intention of wasting his incantations and enchantments on something that wasn’t necessary, but he’d nod in understanding, in the inner complexities, in the notions that there were ideas floating, but nothing fully imparted or divulged.
However, it seemed his own notions and plans had needed much improving, and he stifled a smile as Azrael began to regard their own series of advancements. The beast took it all in stride, jotting down the variety of notes once more, leaning over in his tall, lengthy entity to further study the ways in which the young Ascended had refined, enhanced, the modicums of diagrams and semblances.
[say]“Understandable,”[/say] and he liked the addition of the braziers to the outside – he’d thought about the sloped, metallic roof, but the snow falling from its surface would’ve called for some other rendering. With the fire beneath, around, or surrounding, it might not have been an issue at all. [say]“Very helpful, thank you.”[/say] And he meant it. The soldier had not been an engineer by any stretch of the imagination. He paused, tilting his head vaguely, pencil hovering over particular sections. [say]“What about doors here? Would that weaken the structure? I had thought about easier access to the Tundra from the covered road itself.”[/say]
And then, seemingly absorbed in the task, he hadn’t realized Bastien’s need for departure so quickly, and slid back, away. He stood up too, another nod directed to the Ascended, and didn’t think, didn’t ponder, any further in the stokings of LongNight. [say]“I will see what I can do.”[/say] The matters of business done and at hand, the monolith prospered the only sentiments he thought necessary to convey. [say]“Good luck.”[/say]