Court of the Fallen
you will be gold and gold again - Printable Version

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you will be gold and gold again - Deimos - 04-02-2021

The notion of relaxation, or even rest, very rarely came up in the Sword’s existence. Once, it might have signified repose and ease, when onslaughts were broken, fizzled, diminished, and extinguished – but here, there was always something to fight. In between monsters, sicknesses, heartbreak, leading, training, and the overall suppressing of any and all emotions, there’d been no ample opportunity to unbend, unwind, unfurl. And in some characteristic motion of his entity, he didn’t think he’d deserved it.

Better to run himself into the ground, than to revisit anything and everything.

Except now Hotaru had returned and crowed the same sentiments incessantly, and he’d heard enough of the echoes in Safrin’s ruminations –

And there he was, pouting rather inelegantly, arms crossed, sitting on a chair in the parlor of the spa, a very juvenile, boyish expression indicating he’d rather be anywhere else.

Nose wrinkled at the scents, at the mere thought of giving himself over to tranquility, his stare went to the walls, to the essence, to the air around them. The last time he’d been here had been to help with the building of said operation – establish and ensure the Valkyrie had everything in working order. Maintaining his sulking disposition, he nodded at a few fellow guards vacating the premise, watching as they swung their arms around, joking and gesturing at the world, clearly liberated and bemused, and remained in his waiting prowess – as unyielding as ever.


RE: you will be gold and gold again - Hotaru - 04-03-2021

The glowering presence in the sitting area of her spa is like a stormcloud, but every time she glances over at it Hotaru can’t help the giddy, mischievous rush that follows. Completely immune to the pouting, mountainous figure Deimos poses. The soldiers had not been so immune, though they’d soon forgotten all about their General after Hotaru got her hands on them - literally - or they sank into the mud bath where they couldn’t see the Sword any longer. As such, she doesn’t tease him for chasing away her customers. He has a full tea pot and Atlas to keep him company by the fire, so she lets him brew and stew away all he likes, happy enough that he is not only there but willing to stay while she finishes.

As the last group of guards leaves. Hotaru wanders over with a proud smile on her face. Wiping her hands clean with a towel, hair tied up with a few golden strands straying and curling around her cheeks, and a loose soft t-shirt that is a little too big around her clavicle. Comfort prioritized over some odd notion of professionalism that has no place in a spa like hers. Stopping in front of his slumped seat, Hotaru tosses the towel over her shoulder and her hands find her hips, smiling indulgently down at Deimos. [say]“Have you accepted your fate yet or should I let you stew a bit longer?”[/say] Gentle, amused teasing, lest she give him even the most minuscule opportunity to cut and run. Features softening she extends a hand to help him up and guide him into the empty spa. [say]“I swear you’ll be physically safe in my hands, even if it may hurt your pride. Now, have you decided on if you’ll do both or just one? I’m not sure I’ll let you get out of the massage, you’re one big ball of tension.”[/say] And Hotaru is bound and determined to fix that today, no matter how many teeth she has to pull.


RE: you will be gold and gold again - Deimos - 04-03-2021

The temptation to behave like an insolent child remained in the stance of his sitting arrangement – glaring at the fire, at his surroundings, from the innocuous tea pot, to the unicorn who simply had the misfortune of being in his surly presence. The last of his guards sheepishly hastened off, and then the monolith was simply left in his brooding, and the only alteration at Hotaru’s presence, glaring down at him, was to furrow his brows deeper.

Half a snarl seemed emboldened and apparent on his mouth, and he wondered how quickly he’d be able to bolt from his seat. A series of calculations ran through his mind, harpooning and focused on the preamble of a quick evasion and escape. The eagle would be the fastest shift, but then he’d have to alter back in order to open the door. The hellhound could instigate a series of fires, a long enough distraction for him to slip free, back out into the landscape, and only suffer the consequences of a damaged building and volatile Valkyrie later.

He’d already considered laying waste to everything around him when the hand was extended, and by habit, he’d already taken it and been removed from his seat. A feral sort of snort billowed from his chest, feet yearning to dig into the columns of woodwork and stay like an obstinate mule. [say]“I do not doubt your expertise,”[/say] even if it didn’t seem it from his glower and subsequent eyeroll. But his pride was certainly a fickle, defiant notion even at the best of times, and he couldn’t deny the range of tension throughout his entire being. He’d just ascertained that was how he was and how he’d live his multiple lifetimes – one Colossus of unyielding enigmas. [say]“What is the mud’s purpose?”[/say] Not a yes or no by any means; curiosity for curiosity’s sake.


RE: you will be gold and gold again - Hotaru - 04-03-2021

For all his glacial features that reveal nothing, Hotaru can almost sense the contemplation of escape that rampages through his mind. It’s both amusing and saddening, that the man she so cares for is so reluctant to indulge in a bit of relaxation. Still, it makes it all the sweeter when he instinctively reaches to take her hand. Leveraging him up out of the chair and not feeling him rip away to go sprinting for the window or some other nonsense is a greater victory than she has felt in some time. Invasions that lead to newly acquired kingdoms? Meh. Successfully getting Deimos to relax? It’s a high better than cocaine.

For all his posturing and pouting, Hotaru seems to light up from the inside at his praise, fair cheeks flushing pink with pride. Even better is the reluctant interest he shows, and she tugs gently on his hand, walking backwards towards the showers and the bath in its own separate room beyond. Not letting go lest she give him the chance to run. [say]“Oh, many things. The heat and thickness helps ease aches and pains, the ash and silt removes dead skin, and in particular volcanic ash helps remove impurities and soothes irritations from wounds and abrasions alike.”[/say] Hoping the soothing, informative tone of her voice will lull him as she guides him forward, she pauses only to tilt her head at him, loose bun flopping to the side. [say]“Would it be easier if I joined you? We could use it as a time to simply talk.”[/say] An illusion to conceal the idea of this being a vacation, a word known to cause conniption fits in men like Deimos. Someday Hotaru would find a cure for that malady, but for now she has to be wily.


RE: you will be gold and gold again - Deimos - 04-03-2021

He tilted his head, all the more a predator with the slightest of inclinations, as if studying the ramparts of muck and mire for what they were worth. Some portion of him instantly fought the notions out of principle – seditious and defiant and obstinate to the very core, and sometimes just because he could. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, staring over towards the bath as if it had somehow offended him, listening to the nonsense of dead skin removal and ash qualities. Any embers he’d ever encountered had been out of destruction and mayhem – with the occasional resurrection and renewal tossed in. But there were no symbolic phoenixes here, and clay, dirt, and earth wasn’t going to take away his scars, his lacerations, his wounds. Misgivings and doubts swarmed over him all the more, and the enticement of backing away efficiently, quickly, even if he had to drag Hotaru behind until he’d scraped her off a doorway, immediately curled back into his fathoms.

However, at the suggestion, another scheme began to brew in that Machiavellian mind.

The beast hid the inward snicker; grateful for the moment that she was incapable of obtaining the Attuned bond, and therefore knowing mischief was afoot. [say]“Oh, sure. Talking is one of my favorite things,”[/say] sarcasm-laden tones compiled and assembled, continuing to glance over the mud, pretenses guiding his actions now. [say]“What do I need to do?”[/say] Uncertain of the protocol – brow arching, gaze flicking back in her direction, a very heavy sigh curling through his chest once more.


RE: you will be gold and gold again - Hotaru - 04-04-2021

There's no doubt he could drag her bodily from the spa if he desired, strength heedless in the face of her diminutive size. It makes it all the more endearing then that he lets her drag her forth towards his 'inevitable demise'. Completely unaware of the mischievousness that takes hold inside of him, the fate that awaits her as recompense for offering him company. Blindly faithful, she leads him into the shower area with its curtained partitions. That's when he asks the best question.

Turning, she squeezes his hand and her own mischief rises like a tidal wave in her chest. [say]"Get naked Deimos,"[/say] she chirps innocently, eyes flitting over him from head to toe expectantly. Waiting, brow rising, rocking back on her heels with a sneaky smirk overtaking her lips as if daring him to start stripping right then and there. Breaking moments later, she laughs and pushes him towards a shower. [say]"I have various sizes of shorts to wear if you'd like, but you really will need to strip down and shower. Some people go in naked, but only the bold ones, and usually alone."[/say] Amusement curling on her mouth, she releases his hand and waves it gracefully towards the separated sizes. It may not be much more coverage compared to nakedness, but it's something. Laundry is simply another part of her tasks to keep the spa running.

[say]"Keep your towel, bring it with you into the room so you can use it when you get out."[/say] And with that, she shamelessly pulls her shirt off, sending Deimos a wink before dropping it into the cloth basket and stepping into her own shower stall to begin removing the rest of her clothes. A brief rinse is all she needs, and then she's putting on her own bikini-like undergarment for the bath and emerging with her towel draped over her damp hair. She waits only long enough to ensure Deimos hasn't taken the chance to run, waiting for him to emerge in order to shepherd him towards the mud room they'd made together.

[say]"Now this is the easy part - get in and sit. Simple, right?"[/say] Grinning cheekily, she hangs up her towel and slips into the mud herself, stepping down the stone steps they'd created and finding a seat along the smooth bench by feeling alone. Then she turns and gives Deimos an expectant look, stifling her eager anticipation to see his initial reactions.


RE: you will be gold and gold again - Deimos - 04-04-2021

The Sword spun and faced the showers dimly, a slow blink before understanding washed over, and the potent sigh fizzled through his breath once more. A vicious snort followed at her insinuation, the once-over her eyes commanded and scrutinized. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction, not rising to any bait, listening to the rules, regulations, and demands of the wake, but fully intending to not follow them to the letter. Inspecting the sizes of the “shorts” left him sneering and wrinkling his nose, choosing none at all, before stepping into the shower and closing the curtain behind him with an audible snap, sneer, and pout.

Stripping off his layers, he piled them neatly in a corner, and then turned on the water, permitting a rinse over muscles and brawn, scars and lacerations. Long locks acquired the same notions and motions, until he was thoroughly drenched and cleaned, and then shut the components off. There were several moments where he figured he could probably easily take flight again – but then settled more into the notions of his planned mischief. Leaving his clothing in their designated cubby, the beast concocted and created his own pair of shorts, and breezily wandered out of the confines with the towel over his shoulder, as if daring her to suggest otherwise.

Content with the rest of his body exposed, the beast corded his hair back into a bun, and then stared over the expanse again. [say]“Sure. Simple.”[/say] He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, before wandering forward, placing his towel nearby, eyes only lifting to see her get in, instantly missing the springs of the Basin. So much easier. His gaze shifted downward to the muck, before hesitantly sliding one foot in, and then the other, standing and presiding along a stone step until he could no longer see his ankles. When it didn’t seem to swallow him whole, he continued inward, until he found another bench, far across from her – and sat, arms still crossed over his chest. He had half an inclination to proclaim he didn’t feel any different, but for a moment thereafter he began to feel the residual warmth slide over his tense, rigid stance, and contemplated the notion in silence.


RE: you will be gold and gold again - Hotaru - 04-04-2021

His lack of reaction is simultaneously anticipated and disappointing, but she sends him off behind the curtain with a wink. Deimos is far too accustomed to her antics to react to something so relatively mild from her. As if either of them has ever been insecure about their bodies, even if Hotaru weaponizes hers in a way he does not. Not that he's incapable if he so desired, he is a devastatingly handsome man, but of the two of them only the Valkyrie has ever seemed to flaunt and lure with something so basic as her body. Ironic, then, that they are both so similar at heart despite their different relationships with physicality.

A burble of laughter escapes her when he emerges with his own creation clinging to his hips, shaking her head with a grin that she tries to stifle by biting her lip. She won't say anything, not so long as he still gets into the bath. What he wears isn't as important in the face of that.

Slipping in is as easy as breathing for her, having done it many times since the two of them carved it from the earth. As such she is awarded a perfect vantage point to watch him descend slowly, face contorted into a scowl as he tests the mud in a manner not unsimilar to a cat tapping water with its paw. Waiting is agony, but once he's settled he can't hide the slight relaxing of the lines at his eyes, the slope of his shoulders. His silence can't conceal his reaction, and Hotaru's grin is wide enough for her cheeks to ache. [say]"See, it's not so bad. Though when I make the hot springs, I'm sure you'll be far more willing to visit those."[/say] Laughter bubbles under her tone, tilting her head back and sighing through her smile, relaxing deeper and stretching out her legs to toe the heated stones at the bottom. [say]"Aisha and Morgan have both come here by now. Noah too. I'm collecting your ranks,"[/say] she teases, one eye opening to peer at him with a cheeky grin. Now Deimos is part of her collection, and it's a sweet victory.


RE: you will be gold and gold again - Deimos - 04-04-2021

Deimos’ figure had always been availed for warfare – evident in the way he maintained brawn, power, and muscularity, in the way scars drew and hastened, corded and wrapped, all around his torso, back, abdomen, and the rest of his limbs. Physicality in strength, in fortitude, in might; no shame in its prowess and potential. It was defense. It was offense. It was a shield. It was a weapon. Every inch of him prepared and honed in some way, shape, or form, for wreckage and devastation. There was no indignity, no discomfort, in the way he looked, in the suggestions of battle after battle, of what the maimed, ivory lines represented. Not just for show, but a purpose, crafted, honed, and sculpted for tactical, warrior wakes. Only very few had ever been permitted the features in intimacy; and he’d never utilized himself as a lure. If anything, he’d been firm and committed to the exact opposite. Walls upon walls, structures upon structures, fortifications upon fortifications.

Which he seemed to have forgotten as the warmth and mud continued to pool over his skin, over worked flesh and bone, over trained and honed force that was ever so slowly succumbing. He gradually slid further down, unbeknownst to his entity; instinctual, for it to glean over his chest and down along his shoulders, head leaning backwards over the bath’s edges, eyes gazing up at the ceiling. The Sword would allow her laughter, muffling his own in the wake of the muck, keeping it gathered in his chest. A portion of him wanted to remain completely obstinate, stubborn, and defiant simply for seditious sakes; but he ended up mumbling something anyway. [say]“The Climb has some hot springs. We used it for a cure on the latest round of sickness.”[/say]

The beast’s feet eventually found the warm stones at the bottom too, and reeled instinctively away with a light kick through the muck, frowning slightly, before giving way again. He snorted at the insinuation of her bombardment into his ranks and friends, allies and brethren, muttering under his breath. [say]“Traitors.”[/say]

The mire had nearly done its job of making him forget his earlier conspiracies in mischief – but the notion of the entanglements hastened another hidden, inward smirk. With eyes still closed, and therefore aim completely off – the mastered Earth, Water, and Air incantations hastened forth, lifting a round of the muck, and hurled it in her general direction.


RE: you will be gold and gold again - Hotaru - 04-07-2021

The micro-expressions that he unwittingly lets slip makes up for all the drama, pouting, and dug in heels that it took to get him here. Hotaru is positively high on the sense of being right. It lends a smugness to her closed-lipped smile that she doesn't bother burying. Beneath it simmers a happiness that she is reluctant to examine too closely lest it dissipate like fog beneath early morning sun. No, right now she just wants to enjoy watching Deimos relax, forget all her worries and heartache and merely exist for a moment.

With both their heads tilted back, their smiles are better concealed, but the acoustics of the room makes it easy to hear him when he speaks. A twisted, exaggerated pout molds over her own lips, tilting her head right-way up to angle her distaste at him. [say]"What a waste to have them there. No no no. I have to have them."[/say] And what she wants, she gets. By force of might if not nature. Hot springs in a volcanic climate? Boring. Wasteful. Hot springs in the tundra? Magnificent. Groundbreaking.

Also nostalgic and self-indulgent on her part, but Deimos certainly already knows that.

His muttered response has a giggle eeking out between her lips, like a bubbling popping, unexpected and far too sweetly sincere for her liking. She is proud of this place she has made, the good she is doing. Not that her notions of grandeur and destruction ever fully disappear of course, but she is as tied to the idea of helping people as firmly as Deimos. She merely orchestrates it in a different way these days. Starting small, baby steps in the wake of her ripped and shredded ties.

Distracted as she is, there is absolutely no measure of defense against the veritable wave of mud that is hurled more than splashed at her. It splatters against her shoulders and neck, half her cheek and exposed throat, and a strangled shout of surprise rings against the walls as her arms jerk in a belated response that the mud itself slows to an impotent jerk. [say]"Deimos!"[/say] she squawks, offense offset by her dumbfounded laughter. Sitting upright, she grabs a handful of the mud herself, flinging it his way without a moment more of hesitation, eyes glinting in foxlike slants. Hotaru may not have mastery over the elements the way he does, but at least she has a good throwing arm.


RE: you will be gold and gold again - Deimos - 04-07-2021

Relaxation was not a sentiment he was used to – more adept, more channeled, into chaos and apprehension, catering to the bombardments of the world around them. It’d been much the same way before, before, before – and only when they’d carved out momentary lapses in the thresholds had they ever found anything like repose. Fleeting and gone, so swift he’d hardly missed it, incapable of remaining tethered in its grasp. He searched for other things in voids, in abysses, in empty, darkening wastelands – and now his gaze pinpointed at the ceiling and wondered what on earth he’d been doing all this time. Where bones didn’t ache. Where wounds didn’t heart. Where everything didn’t feel so god damned broken. Where there were healing measures to be found, if he just allowed himself the moments.

The beast couldn’t see her smile, her smugness, her contentment, but figured in some way that it was over there, written on her face. He waited for a blatant ‘I told you so’ to echo across the hall, along the muck; something else for him to deny, refute, and refuse simply for the amusements in defiance. Deimos could hear it in the range of her contempt for a world that had something they’d always cherished – and there was a pang of homesickness clustered there in his heart (residual wants and yearns for things, for moments, he couldn’t ever have again). On a muffled grin, on a round of warm laughter that reverberated and resounded against walls, he responded in kind; a cheeky grin tempting the corners of his mouth. [say]“Is that your way of asking for my help?”[/say] Because he was certain they could, and he had the right incantations for it.

The mud’s heat soothed a multitude of filaments and fibers, muscles, flesh, and sinew, and he gradually succumbed to it with the smallest of sighs, measuring them out in slower breaths, so perhaps she couldn’t detect it. The squawk of surprise signaled his earlier, instinctual prowess had worked, and he snorted, loudly, until they revolved into a round of exuberant, wild laughter. He only peeked one eye open to see the returning volley, the exclamation of his name resounding in some mocking offense, and made no maneuver to duck away from it.

Her aim had been decent; it hit him right on the clavicle, and then sunk down again, clinging to his figure with a careless, haphazard shrug. Only then did he lift his head, a Cheshire grin fixed on her, and without making any movements, any motions, the enchantments lifted the mire – intending to rise like a tidal wave once more, and sending the round her way again.

Only then did he give her anything at all. [say]“Maybe you were right. This is relaxing.”[/say]


RE: you will be gold and gold again - Hotaru - 04-08-2021

Oh she’s certainly smug, but not enough to indulge in the age-old tradition of gloating ‘I told you so’. Not when Deimos will surely take any opportunity to jump right back out of the bath, heedless of how it’s clearly having a positive impact on him. Silly man, she thinks affectionately, glad that both their heads are tilted so he can’t see how her smile goes fond. Not that she is ashamed of her love for him, but it’s a distraction she won’t introduce lest it break the slowly blossoming peace.

Or perhaps it’s made to be broken, as the dam breaks and his laughter rolls like thunder through the room, helplessly sparking her own in tandem. It’s so good to hear him laugh so freely. It has a sort of healing property, even for Hotaru. His burdens are hers to share, and seeing him even temporarily carefree gives her heart wings, and they flutter joyously at the teasing tone he employs.

Of course she’s tempted to sober and remind him that she would never expect or require his help, not when she has judiciously taken up the stance that he should not be so giving, but Hotaru is reluctant to put even a temporary end to the lightness in his tone. [say]“Oh darling, I would never need to be so round-about with you.”[/say] Exaggerated simpering that is underscored by the coy fluttering of her lashes his way. Breaking, she grins mischievously. [say] “But I know you’d be far more interested in those than my mud baths at least.”[/say] In fact she may even get him to relax more regularly if she can get them built. All the more reason to do it.

If he even deserves such delights after the attack he initiates against her. At least her own throw lands, decorating his bare skin in an explosive star-shaped pattern and an accompanying satisfying splat. His revenge is swift however, and Hotaru squeals as the mud rises in a magnificent wave, unseating her from the bench and soaking her up to her chin, only missing her face because of the arms she throws up. Butt bouncing back down to the seat, it jolts stunned laughter from her, childish notions rising to the forefront in the wake of his mischief. [say]“Oh you!”[/say] she sputters impotently, words utterly failing her as her laughter ricochets off the walls. Getting a foot on the edge of the bench beneath her, she throws herself across the pool towards him, muddied hands reaching to catch and grab at him, to try and get her hands all over his pinned up hair. Heedless of her childish reaction because, well, he started it!


RE: you will be gold and gold again - Deimos - 04-08-2021

Laughter instead of anguish, amusements instead of despair – moments he could collect and store, remember and recall, when everything seemed too much to bear. And he’d done the latter for so long, that sometimes the chuckles, the warmth, died and withered, decayed and diminished, over the landslides of grief, forgetting where they were meant to be. Forgoing how to land properly in the world, tucked underneath ribs and around nefarious hearts. It was as if he could pluck them away now, for a second, for an instant, all those stumbling nuances and fallen dreams and dissolved edges; give them over to rounds of something else not riddled, not rankled, into pits of grief. Maybe that was why the chuckles resounded so – glad to be free, to be untethered, to be unleashed.

He snorted at the simpering, an obvious grimace in his wake the batting of her eyelashes, a wrinkle to his nose settling in again. The beast had never fallen for her wiles, for her tricks, but readily employed her schemes  - appreciating the ability of stealth, furtiveness, and deception that he couldn’t muster. He leaned back against the rim of the bath, an arch to a brow, before his eyes roamed elsewhere, upward, as if he could see through the ceiling, and all the way out towards the horizon – that he often wished were painted in streaks of aurora. [say]“That is true.”[/say]

But there were more volleys to be had, more rounds of stupidity and mischief; the ridiculous nature and accord of his juvenile tendencies alive and well in the swarm of muck. At her launch, he did his best to surge through the edge of the mire, powerful legs kicking him off the bench, and rounding along the fringes and boundaries with a zeal of boyish laughter again. She managed to get some portion of his hair, the loose tendrils that might’ve fallen in his haste, and some righteous indignation spiraled back up in the form of a mud wall between them – rising and rising and rising in a glorious fortification behind him.


RE: you will be gold and gold again - Hotaru - 04-08-2021

She never expects him to waver beneath her exaggerated affections, but they’re a needling tease all their own when both parties are aware of the emptiness behind the actions. Her affections for him are best displayed in other more intimate ways, not batted lashes and simpering tones. His acquiescence is sweet on her tongue, and she slowly rolls her neck in the ensuing silence, envisioning the new expansion. [say] “I also wanted to make a steam room. Maybe someday a garden, with little waterfalls and bridges. Take advantage of the surrounding humidity.”[/say] Her voice goes wistful and dreamlike, seeing the sprawling plans laid out in her minds eye. Easier to focus on notions such as construction and landscaping than any more serious and somber multitudes still lurking in her mind. Denial and evasion are the king and queen of coping for the pair of them.

It makes it all the easier to rally against him when the opportunity arises. He is as slowed by the mud as she was, capable of little more than lurching away from her reaching hands. Too little too late, as her muddied palms find edges of dark hair, smearing what she can haphazardly before he inevitably retaliates. His laughter up close is loud and booming, edged with boyish charm, and her heart melts even as she tries to pluck at the tie keeping his hair up and away from her muddy hands. There’s no time for affection in war.

A veritable wall rises before her, the mud being plucked away leaving an empty space for her to tumble into a shallower pool of it with a startled laugh. [say] “Cheater! I can’t risk frying us,”[/say] she calls through her laughter, tempted all the same to try it if it means seeing him with hair on end and eyebrows singed.