Stay where you are. Though her heart still beat and her lungs still filled, the God of Death, true to his name, blew out the little flame of hope that had lit not seconds prior. A task - a purpose - it had been dangled before her to only be ripped away just as quickly. Stay in the Greatwood. Continue to do what she had been doing. The hopeful gaze she had turned upon her father to hear her new assignment fell, eyes cast to the flames. [say]"Yes, father."[/say] she said, resigned.
Her calm was in sharp contrast to that of her brother's, his anger burning bright as the sun a thousand times over. Gently, she reached out to place a hand upon his arm. [say]"Bring your son, then. I am no Ronin, but I will help."[/say] she said softly, an offer to hopefully simmer his rage for the moment.
Weaving his fingers into Ludo's rags, Mort carries the herald as if it were a garment fit for a king. Inappropriately perhaps he flicks a corner of rags over his shoulder before nestling the herald beneath his chin, cozily cuddling his beloved Ludo closer.
Delphia's acceptance of her task fills Mort with a bright joy that his smile does not try to contain. [say]"My daughter. As ever, I am so very proud of you."[/say] He gushes, dark honeyed eyes sparkling with paternal joy, just for her.
It is of no real surprise to Mort what happens next, and before Remi can experience for himself the righteous and mighty wrath of Vi, the God of Death slips forward, extending a pale hand toward the alchemist's cheek. [say]"No? Would you not give up a season or so away from your love, so that your son might grow up in a world not darkened by the presence of the ascended? Surely your love is not so shortsighted as all that."[/say] Softly Mort's thumb strokes Remi's cheekbone. [say]"You have more intimate ways of keeping in contact than many. The distance between the two of you is not a barrier to the family you want to protect, but a means to do just that."[/say] Mort adds, his voice sweet and full of a painful understanding.
Who better than the God of Death, wildly in love with the God of life, to know what hardships love must face?
[say]"Now. Off to the woods with you."[/say] And in a breath, Delphia and Remi are gone.
[say]'You will help them with this?"[/say] Mort asks of Ludo, tilting his head toward one shoulder, nuzzling the rags that surround him.
The spark of defiance does not move Vi, not in the traditional sense - rather, the Celestine speaks his anger for him. Trees grow still, birds stop chirping, and every blade of grass stands unmoving. But before he can inform Remi about why his decision is a bad one, in swoops Mort with soothing hands and soft words. The demigods under his banner are gone in a wink, but still life does not breathe back into the cosmic gardens.
At Amalia's question, Vi merely settles his gaze upon the Shield, as if to tell her silently that this is beyond machines and whatever other questions she may have. The disappointment in his expression is enough, and he turns away. [say]"The Shield to the Tower. The Star to the dragoons,"[/say] he says. Then he is simply gone - and so are Ronin and Amalia. One to the gates, where the dragoon barracks can be found. The other to the entrance of the Tower.
Both in Stormbreak.
This concludes this thread! You have been given your orders, demigods, and you have been sent between the Greatwood and Stormbreak.
For those in the Greatwood, you are expected to create a stronghold against the Ascended in the Hollowed Grounds.
For those in Stormbreak, you are expected to help the Order in your defence against the Ascended.
Have fun!
