remember treading water

DEIMOS

we've all got blood on our hands

something somewhere had to die

so we could stay alive

Deimos preferred frequenting the bars in Halo, and even then, it wasn’t very often. They were easy meeting places for hunters, trackers, and guild members to gather outside of any particulars, and the venue was comfortable, easygoing, and known. Being asked to snag at information within Stormbreak was something else altogether, and it had taken him a multitude of directions from strangers to gain access to the unknown streets, figure out the location, and then sigh when he discovered the person he was supposed to meet hadn’t arrived yet.

Rather than settle himself into the unknown, he glanced at the set of luxere antlers, and then promptly sat upon a bench outside, flicking open his notebook again, jotting down dates and times, and trying to mire through the impending mess of other parameters.

SUNJATA

making bad decisions is my middle name

He’s gotten caught up in the street on the way, because Petronella had decided once more to be a menace in trying to slip away into alley after alley, chasing after whatever person seemed most likely to have jerky on them. It had gotten to the point where the sea panther had been lifted and settled (with much complaint) across his shoulders, with the tan box from Hotaru fit under his arm.

The Flood has rushed here, of course, knowing that Deimos would have been on time, and silently chastising Petronella for being late. Already he can see Deimos sitting on a bench outside, sliding the package over in his arms so he doesn’t forget it nor sit on it. His companion, however, peers at Deimos with pure delight, scrabbling against his shoulders and a paw to her bonded’s cheek to try and get to the hybrid. “Hey, sorry I’m late — fuck.” Sunjata hisses, scarred lips curling into a frown as he tries to force her to settle. “Los dit nou.” He hisses to her in his native tongue, before looking up at Deimos with an apologetic and crooked smile.

“You, uh, wanna grab a drink real quick?” He asks, tilting his head.

DEIMOS

we've all got blood on our hands

something somewhere had to die

so we could stay alive

The sound of movement nearby, and then a string of oaths and curses, had his head lifting to see Sunjata and the sea panther companion. In another time, he would’ve been in some disgruntled, apathetic gaze, or already gone, but he was trying to be civil, and it had worked for the most part on their last venture. His eyes flicked from the cub to the Flood, then to the box, back and forth, as if trying to parse which one to greet or ignore, before closing his notebook, holding it, and getting up from the bench instead.

The inquiry nearly made his nose wrinkle, the refusal already there behind his teeth. But he had other parameters and information to sort through here, and with an inward sigh, gave a nod. Whether it was through accommodation or resignation, he wouldn’t say. “One would be fine.”

SUNJATA

making bad decisions is my middle name

It’s always so fucking awkward between them that Sunjata never quite knows which way to step right or wrong, like anything he does is judged tenfold. So he opts for something easy, something that was polite and didn’t sway too far one way or another. Now, he’d get away with it if it weren’t for Petronella and her antics, the sea panther currently being the bane of his existence.

Receiving the nod, Sunjata steps over toward the door, opening it to let the Sword step through first, even as Petronella mewls petulantly at not getting attention from the Halovian Warden. Once they’re inside, Sunjata opts for something easy – though much like Deimos, he imagines not a lot of the alcohol here would do anything at all for them these days with how strong they’re becoming. Ordering a beer for himself and opening the conversation for whatever Deimos chose, he sets the package in front of him on the bar as he turns to look at Deimos. “So, guess I’ll cut to the chase, huh? I haven’t… Responded to Ronin’s letter about Starfall. I know that we’ll be heading out to the island, but, given that Ru’s just changed and still working on regaining all the strength she had before, I’m wondering if you know anything else about whether or not the less strong demigods might have something else to do?” He says it with a sigh, voice dropped a bit lower for Deimos’ ears only, even though everyone else in the bar has given them a wide enough berth.

DEIMOS

we've all got blood on our hands

something somewhere had to die

so we could stay alive

Given everything going on with the world, Deimos couldn’t even be bothered to make some caustic remarks – past that point after absurd and asinine meetings. Instead, he kept it neutral as well, ordering a beer and watching the sea panther again, before digging into his pockets to produce a variety of treats, sliding them over the table in case Sunjata wanted to give the creature one. Belial wouldn’t notice.

He didn’t quite expect the conversation to sway over to Starfall, but perhaps he should have; most concerns seemed to stem from that entirely nowadays. He took a moment to gaze around the bar, considering and contemplating, using the time of the Flood’s explanations to take in the surroundings and people, before his focus truly pinpointed back to the demigod. “Were you not interested in attending then?” The Sword hadn't considered it a choice, but that mantle already weighed heavily across his shoulders. The hesitation, with Ru, would always be an understandable notion – he and Evie had already had this conversation again, so similar to the days before war. None of it was easy, and it seemed to be worse with every passing time he thought about it. “I do have information from Safrin, about ways to regain the regions lost. I planned on letting everyone know when we gather.” So his head tilted, taking a swig of the alcohol while he waited for decisions and curiosities to be had.

SUNJATA

making bad decisions is my middle name

Steel eyes catch the treats slid over and Sunjata breathes a breath of thank you as he takes them – all while Petronella focuses on the hybrid like nothing else in the world matters. Pocketing the majority while she isn’t looking, Sunjata keeps one in his hand, holding it up to the sea panther on his shoulders who’s attention immediately moves to it, collecting it with her webbed paws, sniffing at it as Sunjata’s gaze flits to Deimos’ in confusion. “What? No.” That’s not what he meant to imply. “I just wasn’t sure what to say back to it. Ru’s being.. Well, Ru about it.” He sighs, trying to flash an apologetic smile. “I guess my questions are better fit for Ronin.” Wrinkling his nose a little, he sighs, now that Petronella has her treat and his hands are free to snag the beer.

He takes a sip of it, nodding at the mention of information from Safrin, head tilting curiously and avianlike as he focuses back on the Sword. “Yeah? That’s helpful.” Not for him, really, but for everyone else, he supposes. He doesn’t want to pry, though, not if Deimos isn’t quite ready to share – though a part of him wonders why bring it up at all if he doesn’t intend to share it. “I bet it’s a lot.” He tries to assume, glancing sideways at the other man to open up the conversation should he wish to have it.

DEIMOS

we've all got blood on our hands

something somewhere had to die

so we could stay alive

Ru being Ru about it could mean hoards of different things: she didn’t want to go, she felt out of the loop, she craved to do something but recent alterations had her back somewhat…the list went on and on in his mind, but without the baseline information, he’d only be able to speculate and continue arching his brow as the conversation wandered. “Ronin likely has some ideas, but I think these will work too.”

But instead of speaking them aloud, for he’d become even more rational about prying eyes and listening ears since the Dahlia and Vox meetings, he opened his palm to create a piece of paper and charcoal. Putting down the beer, he began scrawling in his neat precision the list he’d memorized and concocted from Safrin’s orders – before passing it over to Sunjata for perusal. “A lot of work and effort, but,” pointing to the Rae’s Lilies and Vi’s Roses portion, “Some of this could be done simply based on luck. Or resource gathering.” They wouldn’t need to be hulking masses of power and dominion. They wouldn’t require storylines from gods or blessings from others.

SUNJATA

making bad decisions is my middle name

Nodding to the Sword, the Flood puffs out a little breath of a sigh. “Probably so.” He agrees, wondering for a moment how many things have changed for the White Knight now that he wasn’t one of Safrin’s pawns anymore. It’s a thought he keeps comfortably to himself and blessedly alone with the way Petronella is focused on the treat between her webbed paws.

He does lean in a little to let his gaze follow the charcoal and the paper, reading them off mentally as Deimos writes them, a scarred brow lifting curiously. “Shit.” He says before he takes another sip of the beer. “Might be useful for us all to get together to try and pool resources.” Considering it for a moment, Sunjata’s quite literally just trying to play the part. The void didn’t bother him, not like the others, but he realizes enough to try and keep the peace between it all.

DEIMOS

we've all got blood on our hands

something somewhere had to die

so we could stay alive

Whether or not Sunjata would participate wasn’t much of the Sword’s concern; there were enough people forged along Caido of distinctly different levels, occupations, and ideas. Ideally, multitudes would be able to conduct the same business and accomplish these tasks, even if it was just striving to find flowers. They’d done much similar things in the wake of illnesses. And for those who didn’t want to fight or scourge upon the earth? These could be far more peaceful notions and expertise. “We could see where people want to start at the meeting,” and then go from there. “Groups of gatherers, fighters, and so on.” He shrugged; that had been the process of his ideas and semblances anyway.

“You can give that to Ru,” he motioned towards the paper, taking another swig of his beer. The Valkyrie was clever enough to hatch other schemes from it; he trusted she’d be able to put it to good use.

SUNJATA

making bad decisions is my middle name

Nodding as he sips from the beer, he thinks about each of the options listed out – wondering what it would be like to have such a choice rather than his usual result of being forced into being whatever they needed at the time. The only moment he ever got to decide for himself was when he’d made the Refuge, a space that was beneficial for all, his largest rebellious attempt from both sides of the war that plagued Caido.

Those thoughts send him in a damper, though, and Petronella finishes up her treat before she’s headbutting his temple as he blinks over toward Deimos. “That’s a good idea.” He agrees of the initial decision, even if his mind started to run away with it. Taking the paper, he folds it neatly and slips it into his pocket, before readjusting the package in front of him. “I’ll pass it along. I’m heading home after I drop off this package from her, anyway.” He says, letting the soft smile at her thoughtfulness spread briefly across his scarred face.

DEIMOS

we've all got blood on our hands

something somewhere had to die

so we could stay alive

Deimos didn’t need the happy features from Sunjata at the thought of Ru, namely because he still hated the whole connection and relationship, so he only repressed the notions with an inward shudder of revulsion and kept his eyes trained on the table. Waiting for another inquiry that never came, the Sword nodded instead, finishing off the remains of his drink, and feeling the restlessness stirring again. “Did you need anything else?” It hadn’t been a two-sided trade in information, but at least the Valkryie would have some alleviated concerns and worries for the future; he supposed that would be decent enough for now.

SUNJATA

making bad decisions is my middle name

Whether or not he needed anything else, technically no, but that doesn’t mean that the added company wouldn’t be nice – something he could mention to Ru briefly to see her light up about it whether or not it was a time for the Flood and the Sword. Either way, Sunjata finishes up the beer, pays for both his and Deimos’ before giving Petronella another of the snacks that Deimos had given him to keep her occupied.

“Not entirely. Are you heading back now, too?” He asks curiously, steel gaze flickering over toward him with a raised brow. “It can be a bit of a maze down here, I just gotta pop into Mother Molly’s for a second if you wanna have some company.” He had always come off to Sunjata as a man that really did not want his company in particular, but hey, if he can help him get back to the Skyships easier and without him taking a wrong turn somewhere else down here, why not offer it?

DEIMOS

we've all got blood on our hands

something somewhere had to die

so we could stay alive

“Planned on it,” he added, because one brief sojourn elsewhere still meant a litany of responsibilities back home. Whether or not he wanted company was one thing – because he’d easily point out Sunjata was amidst the bottom tier of that list, but he was trying to be better than years before; solely for Ru, and partially because the Flood had done them all a grander service in that damned meeting than he probably realized.

And truthfully, he didn’t know the way through the Stormbreak streets, though he figured at some point he’d either figure it out or merely fly to escape the labyrinthine wake. “If you want,” was all he admitted or could allow himself to parse through (still not having a clue as to what Mother Molly’s was, but presuming some sort of shop).

Then they could wind their way through, back out through columns and edges.

[FIN]