[se] shadow and shine

Deimos

Dare we know the halo's hanging low

Deimos wouldn’t deny the ease settling over his shoulders. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been there; he was far too used to coiling amidst the trepidation and restlessness, forging onward without ceasing or stopping, no pause, no intervals to breath. But for these quiet moments, after tournaments, after near-deaths and demises, after pain and onslaught, after no forthcoming information, after births and renewals…he could release some of the burden away.

Maybe he was becoming more adept at it, or simply had a place to revel in the comforts, the sanctity, the sanctuary they’d carved and built for themselves. Gone were the days where he would drift alone and suffer in the immense pressure of his own making – and so there they were, loved and cherished and not lost.

Erebos had already been in the makeshift bouncer once or twice before, and he couldn’t help but laugh as the youth kicked his legs about, leaving the multitudes to rattle, Belial to hover, and Deimos on the floor beside the baby, long legs outstretched, beginning to create facets of Deepfrost décor. He’d already started on one set of lights, combining elements, hues, and colors to give them a softer ambience, a signature glow, for future footholds either around the house (out of a baby’s grasp) or amidst the outside. “I will leave you to the decorating,” he surmised, with a mischievous glance towards the Evergreen; since they knew full well his aspects were Spartan at best.

Evie

Oh, Evie is already well underway with the decorations. They're stored in one common area, neatly boxed and labeled, and as Deimos worked on the lights she begins pulling them out one by one and transporting them into the living room. Deimos' laugh and the faint sound of the bouncer has her peering her head around the corner as she comes through the doorframe, grin already forming. Micah bounds out from behind her, intent on joining the fray and the eye-catching amusements of Erebos' bouncing.

"That may be for the best," she teases in return, popping open one of the boxes and beginning to pull out a garland of evergreen proportions. It draws Micah's mischievous gaze back to her, and she narrows her eyes playfully back at him - only to then tickle Deimos' cheek with the end of it as she passes by, eyeing the top of the bookshelf where she intends to hang it.

Come meet me at the comedown
When no one's talkin' about you at all

Deimos

Dare we know the halo's hanging low

For that chord alone, he unfurled some Air incantations to thread through the décor and unravel some portions from her hands. Where teasing and taunting went hand in hand, he winked with the signature juvenile wrinkle to his nose, threading through another set of lights. While Erebos occupied himself wholly with the bouncer, the Sword’s eyes followed Evie’s path amidst the bookshelf, where he’d placed the custom made Tumsea Trophy from the tournament, pondering the next portion of jocular intentions.

He snorted at the tickling ends, deciding upon options and furtive measures rather than anything else for the moment. He knew and understood her taste and flair for gossip, news, and announcements, and pondering over which to pick and choose. In the end, he’d let her snag whichever pierced her mind first – eventually she’d have both. “I heard some interesting news from Fox during the tournament, and Safrin recently,” he began, brow arching, waiting to see her reaction before continuing.

Evie

"Hey!" Evie's objection is weakened by her laugh, telekinesis snagging at the portions his magic disrupts to lift them back into place since she can't reach them physically fast enough. She has to use the step stool to hang the garland, but it's still novel to be able to climb it when she'd resorted to either magical use or Deimos' help for her pregnancy, overly cautious and paranoid of any potential harm. She's not back to her normal athleticism, but her body is nearly the same - thank the gods for magic, regardless of how they view it.

Deimos knows exactly what her weaknesses are, and she turns over her shoulder with eyes rapt like a hawk's in the middle of hanging a piece of the garland on the corner of the bookcase. "From both?" She's almost offended he hasn't told her already, but they've been understandably busy. Her hands work while she keeps eye contact, the straightforward presentation allowing her to split her focus. "Tell me about Fox first." Might as well lead into the herald-level news.

Come meet me at the comedown
When no one's talkin' about you at all

Deimos

Dare we know the halo's hanging low

Pretenses were vital – though any of their diabolical means were shortened the moment she objected and he snorted, watching as she replaced and returned the section. Erebos kicked and flailed his legs for another juncture, and Deimos shook his head, content and peaceful, amidst soft, muted lights, and the expanse of family, of things they’d all grown and nurtured and strived for, surrounding the surface of these small, precious moments.

Which he then turned into quiet bouts of gossip and intrigue, because he knew she loved it, and it amused him to see her eyes narrow into something raptorial; the bait and lure and traps set. How she often few directly into the snare, and seemed to yearn for it all the more. He laughed again, creating another sanction of the bulbs, more green than amber this time, head tilting vaguely as if trying to recall or recollect the moment. He wouldn’t have to; he’d remember it regardless, but it was in effort of the tease, the thrill of her chase. “He approached me during the tournament, to ask for my blessing. He plans to ask Kiada for her hand in marriage.” From there, a wry little grin appeared in the corners of his mouth, and his gaze landed upon her, intending to gauge the reaction.

Evie

Evie isn’t expecting news from Fox to surround engagement. Evie turns from the garland in a whirl (though it thankfully remains where it was placed) and whirls on her stepstool so quickly it wobbles a little, eyes brighter than the decorative lights as color springs to her cheeks from the sudden onset of excitement.

“What?! Oh my gods!” She springs from the stool to his side, snagging another garland and strangling it with her hands to give them something to do. “Did you give it? Has he already asked?!” Evie hasn’t had a chance to become close with Kiada yet the way she wants to, but she has had the pleasure of seeing how well she and Fox fit together at various gatherings and parties, and above even that she cherishes love as a whole. It’s fantastic news, and she hopes the answer to each of her rambling, rattling questions is equally positive.

Come meet me at the comedown
When no one's talkin' about you at all

Deimos

Dare we know the halo's hanging low

He glanced up from the cycle of creation magic and lights continuing to coil neatly for her reaction. He withheld another snort, but grinned, catlike and Cheshire just the same, before his head bent down again, lending into some imparted tension merely to keep her guessing. Eventually though the tense pause was more than enough, and he nodded. “I did. He did. She accepted.” His smile turned more amused and content than anything else thereafter, and with his eyes slightly on Erebos (bouncing away; a nap would likely be imminent soon), he stood, gathering the segments of glistening décor in his hands and parsing them through where they’d likely be orchestrated and designated.

“I don’t have any information other than that,” because he’d pried and tried. “They’ll probably plan later.” He’d let Kiada know he’d be available for any support or assistance, regardless.

Evie

The shadowed expression and prolonged pause works like a charm, a sound like a gasp and a gurgle combining softly in Evie’s throat like an avid watcher of a telenovela during a tense moment. It would be unbelievable surely, but did she really - ?

It’s a brief moment of intelligence that has Evie slapping her hands to her mouth before she squeals - you’re welcome Erebos - and she spins in place in a whirlwind of ginger hair and flushed, freckled, smiling cheeks. As Deimos passes by she jumps toward him, hand snagging his shirt and yanking on it in a short burst like an excited tog savaging a toy, needing an immediate outlet for energy that is suddenly overflowing inside. “AAAAA! I can’t - oh my gosh, I’m just so happy for them!” Gushing, Evie slaps both hands to her cheeks as if it will tame the heat there, dimples aching with the force of her grin. Of course she wants to know more already (hurry up Kiada!) but for now this is enough. They’re never lacking in a need for good news in Caido. 

“I hope she decides on things soon, I need to start growing flowers!” Her fingers twitch and dance, desperate to turn energy into productivity. Conveniently she has a husband right in arm’s reach. With a bright laugh she interrupts his search for good decorating spots, snagging his waistband to steady herself on her toes as she stretches up to kiss him with smiling lips. If all she can do for the moment is indulge in her own marital bliss then so be it - Deimos can reap the rewards.

Come meet me at the comedown
When no one's talkin' about you at all

Deimos

Dare we know the halo's hanging low

Erebos looked up at his mother’s squeal with wide eyes and determination to match; uttering the same decibels but at an infant’s pace, before kicking away again. Deimos had enough time to shake his head at the combination of noises, but none to evade Evie’s grabbing hands – so she stilled while she gushed and raved. Snorting at the accumulation of emotions, his smile remained just the same, though hands were coiling the lights together across his hands, as if to spread them out somewhere.

Soon, the glowing motions of the gilded lights would be like a halo around Evie’s head, as she snagged at his pants and his lips; the laugh adorning her mouth in response would be enough to signify all the contentment in the world. For them, for Kiada and for Fox, and for things beyond the plain of Starfall and its inhabitants. Pausing and drawing back momentarily, he studied her, boyish smile stretching across his features (probably because he was making the lights now look like devil horns above her crimson crown). “You can write and ask if you would like. I have probably already harassed her enough.” And once Ru found out…

Letting that brief thought burst into a laugh as well, his eyes searched hers, a certain set of salvation grasping around his edges. “As for the Safrin news, she told me I no longer needed to bear the punishment of those that came before me. I can be healed now.”

Evie

Erebos’ interjection only encourages Evie’s happy laughter to seize her a second time. She only notices Deimos holding the lights due to the shades they cast on his handsome, smiling face - blissfully unaware of the mischief he’s enacting just out of sight. “Pretty,” she murmurs, fingers reaching to cup his jaw and tap against his cheek where his beard fades into skin, enchanted by the play of color in his blue eyes. “We should hang more of these.”

Waving away the offer, Evie shakes her head slightly - snagging small tendrils of fiery hair on the detailed crevices of the lights - and tries to calm her rabbiting heart. “Oh, no. Let her have her engagement bliss before the stress of planning. I’ll just send her my congratulations and let her know when she’s ready I can start planting.” No badly concealed prodding or begging regardless of whether her excitement wants her to or not. She’d had so few people to help her prepare for their own wedding - Hotaru, Hadama, Alys - that she doesn’t want to force her way into a space she’s only been recently welcomed into. 

Of course that’s when Deimos rocks her world a second time. Lips part comically, eyes going round and then immediately tearful. When she manages to close her mouth after a delay of silence her lips quiver noticeably. “Honey - ” her voice breaks immediately, sparing her the impossibility of finding words that will never amount to how she feels. Flinging her arms around his neck she squeezes tightly, crushing their cheeks and temples together as her fingers bleed white digging into his shoulders. There’s only the little aches and pains of living to heal, but her magic rushes forth to chase it away from both of them with eager immediacy, her choked laugh buried in his throat when it finds a foothold in him for the very first time and actually works.

Come meet me at the comedown
When no one's talkin' about you at all

Deimos

Dare we know the halo's hanging low

Very tempted to alter the lights into something even more juvenile, he ceased when her attention indulged along his jaw, tapping along his cheek, amused all the more. His brow arched, incessantly mischievous, barely concealing other base thoughts and patterns. “Where would you like them?”

Leaving Kiada’s engagement bliss to her and Fox seemed a more noteworthy gesture, and he nodded, a light laugh piercing through while he altered the fragments and factions of color upon the décor, eyes flickering back to hers within an instant. “Efficient. Hopefully she will have enough of us willing to aid that it will not be so stressful.” They’d managed with the support of their own brethren in between duties to Halo.

But then there was waiting for the other reaction – and he could feel his breath stifle, held a moment or two, to gauge the plausibilities and possibilities. He didn’t expect her to voice to crack, not in those calculations, or to be immediately surrounded in her happy, unfurling sentiments; instinctually bending to meet her temple and features. For half a moment he intended to ask if she was all right, if it was overwhelming, but the answer seemed to quantify in the sudden rush and lifting of incantations through him – not his own magic by any means, but hers. He was familiar with the web of her lines and the stretch of her abilities, but this sheltering, soothing, sanctifying means had never been able to trace through his frame, as much as she’d tried, and the tenderness sank into his bones with such a heady rush, he couldn’t help but laugh, smile, grin against her features. “Beautiful,” he murmured into her hair, into her cheek; just like her and in every sense of the word. “I am sorry I did not get to feel it before,” through no fault of his own – but the apology was there nonetheless – perhaps for the person he’d been well beyond those touches and fragments.

Evie

“Everywhere?” Her grin is unapologetic, freckles and pale ginger lashes illuminated by colorful light. “The nursery for sure, the lights are much dimmer. Our bedroom too?” Sincere consideration swiftly morphs into mischief in the span of a breath, keen on the idea of seeing how pretty he is beneath their glow in a very different way.

Flirtatious notions and engagement celebrations alike are swept away like smoke by the revelation he shares. It will be a miracle if she can remember their banter at all. Right now he is solid and familiar in her arms, and for the first time she can know him on a level that touch and sight can’t hope to provide. Every vein, ligament, and cell is a pathway for her magic to journey through, connecting her oldest magic - her true sense of self, her intrinsic purpose in life - to the man she loves. It makes her chest shake with stilted gasps and hiccups that veer between delight and overwhelm. 

Every individual’s magic is like a fingerprint, intimately unique, and Deimos’ soft utterance has her exhaling shakily and hiding her pink face against his skin. Beautiful. Her magic - the one she was born with, the one that holds the true essence of her soul more than any other - is beautiful to him. She is beautiful to him. 

She doesn’t need to reach for his pulse anymore to tell herself he’s okay - her magic has touched each valve and artery of his strong heart, and she’ll never have to be uncertain again. “We have a lifetime to make up for lost time,” she reassures, though her voice is thick and equally muffled by how tightly she’s holding him. Zuriel will grow sick of Evie immediately because the Evergreen knows every scrape, cut, and bruise will have her racing to mend them for the next few seasons. Maybe forever, because she never wants to forget how lucky she is to have this, to be able to safeguard not only his heart but his life.

Come meet me at the comedown
When no one's talkin' about you at all

Deimos

Dare we know the halo's hanging low

Everywhere had all its undertones; enough to ensure a roll of his eyes and a snort for moments to come. “If you want,” they could make it possible – flickering or dimming lights for Erebos’ nursery, streamlined hues for the bedroom, mischief laden in between the place they’d made for themselves.

But there were other multitudes and considerations, and beyond the notion of ridiculous colors were sentiments real and true and unburdened. Like breaths and gasps of air he’d never had before – pure and refined, sinking into bones and enamel like the gentlest muse, varnishing over blackened portions and lacquered, nefarious, wounded, marred, and fettered marrow. Deimos had meant every word; the incantations were inscribed in beauty and carved back into his skin in delicate but strong, unyielding, guidance; the cadence of a song or a sonnet, the whirlwind of gentle rain or the glimpse of a first snow. A beckoning of safe harbors and shallow rhythm, a place of promised semblances and where hurt, marred scales tipped away to the nurtured and divine. Zuriel had always been there for him, but he’d known the painstaking ordeal Evie had undertaken in watching, in seeing, how her measures couldn’t scorch and score into his aches and pains.

And for all the lightness of her incantations, Deimos knew his were mostly dark and blackened; capable and full of menace and nefarious properties. But not always – and maybe she’d see that too. “Of course,” he agreed, a promise of whatever he could extend, even with trepidation mounting and unwinding outside the wake of their world, sheltering her just as well in the shape of his broad shoulders, arms encircling and surrounding, Erebos’ little kicks echoing off the hardwood floor.

Evie

His own magic is a dark, still lake, inactive as it is. Certainly not blackened - not to her. To her it is the Oasis at night, when clouds cover the moon and turn water to ink, and when you swim out it feels deeper than it possibly could be. Maybe that’s what his magic feels like when it grabs hold; plunging down and finding no bottom, suffocating, drowning. It’s a powerful feeling, but not a bad one. The same as the shiver that goes down her spine when he grabs her with one arm or splits a log with hardly an exhale. 

“You feel like - like gravity, or the ocean,” she mumbles, overtaken by the closeness this moment has given her. It’s like a magical high. “I never want to forget it. I’ve never been so jealous of Attuned.” But this is enough. Far more than she ever expected to receive. To know someone this way is unique to Abandoned, no matter how it may pale in comparison to Attuned, and Evie won’t let regrets and vain desires cloud the beauty of this moment and the gift they’ve been given. “Forget the lights for now. Just - stay here with me.” Until she can memorize his natural heartbeat and the sense memory of his magic, finally at her fingertips. Each moment of use and accompanying drain of energy a chemtrail to follow and distinguish. And soon she will know him so thoroughly that no ache will go unnoticed - or unhealed. At last.

- Fin <333

Come meet me at the comedown
When no one's talkin' about you at all