DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
Deimos had more than enough memories to give to anyone: a multitude of them unhappy, discontented, haunting things, more poignancy and anguish than any sublime, happy measures. They’d steadily begun to restore themselves, but then others took shape: new, fresh horrors aligned against sepulchers and catacombs, dreams that wilted, decayed. They’d likely poison anyone who dared to ingest them, so they stayed within his sanction, detrimental only when he allowed them to surface against his mind, only when they lingered for too long in one place – a rush of screams, a bellow of cries, too many final breaths extinguished in his ears.
Devilish contortions were returned, and he was eerily reminded of Kiada again – firebrand children with their carnivorous wiles, and how he only openly encouraged the disasters and mayhem because it was all he knew too – implored them to go after ambitions with gnashing teeth and grasping hands. He’d learned to be meticulous and methodical, but sometimes it didn’t matter; not when family and friends were threatened, not when destruction and ruin were imminent, not when the world threatened to pluck and take and snag things from him again. Then, he wasn’t careful at all; ruthless, heedless, an irreverent rapture of warrior ministrations and rapacious, seething torrents: a flame beneath the cold. At her predilections and predictions, he chuckled; his mannerisms, his knowledge, speaking of other regions (which meant – she must’ve been from elsewhere too – the first measure she’d stoked within). He’d given himself away, but the Naturals all knew he wasn’t one of them – had made it clear early on, howling into the void as barriers toppled. “Yes. I come from other worlds.” Plural, for he’d been born and raised in Isilme (twice; on the bastion of reincarnation and resurrections), then honed his harpooning craft in Helovia, settled upon rime and mountains and the snow before perishing. “Similar, in a way. We had magic, gods, and unicorns. No Fae from what I can recall,” he tilted his head, arching his brow. Perhaps some could’ve been like sprites and fey, whimsical, mercurial, but he’d never been one for stupid games and tricks, snares catching on his limbs. His deceptions had been political or war-framed in nature, purposeful, meaningful, intending success for his kingdom and no one else’s. “Some kitsunes instead.” A wry grin settled on his smile, as if he were one himself (not at all; but had seen enough of their tails and incantations to understand their capabilities, their misdeeds). The Sword’s inquiry followed, curiosity forever binding him. “Where are you from?” master of nothing place; of recoil and grace |
gunmetal bones and wolf's teeth
for Ashetta |
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the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster ✓
Age: 34 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo Level: 14 - Strg: 74 - Dext: 74 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3 BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather
Change author: Posts: 6,764 | Total: 10,943 MP: 5254
08-26-2019, 11:47 PM
Messenger
Age: 28 | Height: 5'0" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds Level: 7 (lvl 3 Attuned) - Strg: 10 - Dext: 27 - Endr: 19 - Luck: 14 - Int: PERCY - Mythical - Unicorn (Superspeed) SOOT - Regular - Wine Spider
Played by: Jaecarys
Change author: Posts: 1,248 | Total: 1,553 MP: 150
09-04-2019, 05:34 PM
ASHE does the wolf apologize when it stands on top? should the lion say grace when it takes its mark?
Ashe noted the plural, nodding her head. Her history was plural in worlds as well, first from Northwind, then onto Northaven. It often was lumped into one, as she discovered from talking to other Naturals. They all knew of the Northwinders, the wave of so many that had appeared at that spire. Most of them were dead now. The thought was almost unsettling, and she rolled her shoulders as if to chase it away. She focused on what Deimos told her, vaguely describing what could be found where he was from. Kitsune was a distantly familiar term, perhaps something she had read about, but she knew little of them. She quirked her brow up at his smile about them, and she got the impression that she might be grateful that she had never met one. His question turned on her, and she looked ahead of them once more, stepping nimbly from one red root to another. "I'm a Northwinder," she told him. "Like Ronin and Remi." Like the Launcelyns, but that went unspoken. There were others too, but at least her claimed brothers were well known, and she was proud to love them. "When we were sent to Northaven, we encountered... strange things. A great stone beast, a cat of some sort so big that it the spire would have been a thorn in its paw." Her left hand rose with a wry smile on her face, drawing attention to the prosthetic pinky finger Remi had made for her. "Lost nothing but a finger to it." She dropped her hand back down, looking ahead once more. She had been sure she would die that die. Absolutely sure of it, and while she had been crushed and mangled, it was only her finger that couldn't be saved. "We faced other things too. Shadow monsters and other beasts in the jungle, but didn't know anything about them. We had magic in Northwind, plenty of magic, but nothing like here." She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, and she wondered why it came so easily, talking to this stranger, this warrior. Could she take him if he decided she was a threat? Surely she could. "Would you ever go back to your home world?" I do what I need to, what I have to, to survive. Closer than your friend, I can be your enemy. the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster ✓
Age: 34 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo Level: 14 - Strg: 74 - Dext: 74 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3 BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather
Change author: Posts: 6,764 | Total: 10,943 MP: 5254
09-05-2019, 11:38 PM
Messenger
Age: 28 | Height: 5'0" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds Level: 7 (lvl 3 Attuned) - Strg: 10 - Dext: 27 - Endr: 19 - Luck: 14 - Int: PERCY - Mythical - Unicorn (Superspeed) SOOT - Regular - Wine Spider
Played by: Jaecarys
Change author: Posts: 1,248 | Total: 1,553 MP: 150
09-09-2019, 06:48 PM
ASHE does the wolf apologize when it stands on top? should the lion say grace when it takes its mark?
She glanced up at him with a half frown of understanding. "I'm not sure Northaven is still there or not," she offered in turn. "And Northwind was ravaged by war." She tried not to think about that. The country that had been her home. The great mountains to the east she had been born in, the sprawling capital she had been broken and remade in, the valleys and plains and forests and cities... she didn't realize how much she hoped it was still there, even if she would never return. She huffed and stepped nimbly from rock to root to fallen branch, until she stepped up upon a stone that brought her almost to eye level with Deimos. "The stone cat was a bitch to fight," she said, happy to switch the topic back to the beast that stole so many lives. Strange how horrors that once made her heart race and her breath catch held not even an ember to the infernos she had suffered since then. "We had these walls around Northaven, surrounding us on all sides. Keeping us in, keeping the jungle out. Impossibly tall, and this thing was taller. Headbutted it's way right through them and buried half our Guard in rubble. The rest of the settlement was magically trapped in town somehow and.. well, I think there were only eight of us left to fight it." She glanced up at Deimos as she continued on, hopping down from her perch to the next root, feet never touching the ground. "It was stubbornness and luck that won in the end, I think. We lost one fighter, a civilian baker. I don't know what she was thinking, fighting." She shook her head. She had never met Harlow personally, but everyone knew of everyone there, the messenger of Northaven especially. "I focused my firepower on one of its legs, along with a couple others who had magic. Some were crazy enough to climb it as it headed for town. Eventually we downed it, and with a final blast-" She held up her hand, a bright, brilliant blue spark of lightning snapping around her fingers before vanishing. "-its head was taken from its body. A few of us were crushed in its fall. I was lucky to only to lose a finger." Ashe looked up at Deimos, finding it easy to talk to him. She was meeting more and more like minded warriors and fighters of late, people she understood, people that knew what it was like not to remember a life without battles and pain and hardship. Not like Northaven, where she had felt like the dirt on people's shoes for not being able to live like they did. "Did you ever face monsters like that? Or just other people?" For there was no question in her mind he had faced people as surely as she had. I do what I need to, what I have to, to survive. Closer than your friend, I can be your enemy. the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster ✓
Age: 34 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo Level: 14 - Strg: 74 - Dext: 74 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3 BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather
Change author: Posts: 6,764 | Total: 10,943 MP: 5254
09-10-2019, 11:02 PM
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