[Training] most curious asides

Deimos

Dare we know the halo's hanging low

The Barracks were a return to normalcy after strange circumstances, and Deimos craved the opportunity and chance to unfurl and unravel those liberating effects of magic. Before long, he’d gathered multitudes of his constituents out in the colder ventures of the open portions, past climbing walls and into the formation of wide-open spaces and an endless sky, surrounded by icy endeavors and pockets of snow. “First one to hit the target,” of which he’d sent upwards on a string of Air enchantments and mischief, “Can have one patrol evening off,” a modest and inspiring challenge, he thought, and he could always fill in the empty slot.

But that proved to be tricky, purposefully, for the masses, as he dragged the floating effigy back and forth with unpredictable factions. Lightning flashed and missed. Fire encountered nothing. Water fell in vague rivulets, and hordes of frustrated faces and features either glowered at him or the target itself. All the while, the Sword wore a content and amused smile, teasing and taunting and allowing his mind to not be filled with the unknown, vague mysteries from the Peepholes.

Eventually, one of the soldiers did manage to chunk off a piece with another flicker of elements, and there was an uproar of victory and laughter, and so Deimos began to lower the constituents, now with one less leg.

heart open, testify, tell me i'm not crazy

Marcus had not intended to spend the entire afternoon buried in books, but by the time he finally pushed away from the table and stepped outside, his shoulders ached and his head felt crowded. As he rolled one shoulder back, be decided he coulduse a good stretch. With that in mind, he made his way toward the Barracks.

As he entered the yard, however, something unexpected caught his attention. The usual sounds of sparring and drills had been overtaken by loud cheering. Marcus slowed. A crowd of soldiers had gathered near one of the training yards, their voices carrying across the courtyard in excited bursts. Some were laughing, others clapping shoulders, and more than a few seemed genuinely impressed by whatever had happened. Curiosity quickly replaced whatever else he was thinking about and he adjusted his angle toward the commotion instead. 

The closer he got, the more he heard. Fragments drifted through the crowd. Someone had actually done it. Someone had finished one of Deimos' challenges. Judging by the soldiers' reactions, whoever had completed it had done it at the end of all their ropes. Lifting a brow, Marcus weaved through the soldiers as they dissipated to their next things, and stopped just shy of the Warden, who had his back turned to him. "Sounds like that was quite the challenge." Marcus said after clearing his throat, a smile creeping across his Olson features.

m a r c u s

Deimos

Dare we know the halo's hanging low

Lowering the target, to be defenseless in the future interims and intervals, he snorted and laughed amongst the rest. Once tallies and timeframes were taken, they’d all gone to clapping on backs and dispersing, so by the time Marcus arrived behind him, Deimos had already calculated a few other steps. Turning his head to glance over his shoulder at the young Olson, he managed another slight grin, strides beginning to maneuver in the direction of braziers and refilling the portions so the embers were more than just mere spitfires. “I do not like to make things easy,” came on veracity for the multitudes, and while he coaxed new flames and peeked into other venues, his mind wandered to more inquiring states.

And while most could be centered on things occurring outside of the periphery, he let his calculations stay here instead. “What brings you here?”