[PQ] [RQ] I hear it rocks

The inevitable swung around, and by the time the shiny stones had been dropped off at his office, the Sword had drawn up the calculations and maps required for the next step. And some bartering chips – considering they’d done these intervals before, and he wasn’t above bribery to ensure the tasks were completed.

With the morning sun, some of their favorite breakfast items had been laid out, hot rushes and plumes rising from the table, flourishes of pastries and drinks, hash browns piled high, enough to coax and conquer and divide for the gathered – an enticing mechanism, a drawn platitude for noses and appetites.

So as they arrived, they’d find him already indulging in a ham, sausage, and egg sandwich, and a hot tea, the buckets of rocks already sorted and ready. “Sorry, I know,” he murmured as they drew forward – one would have to argue pitching pebbles around the Citadel was much better than digging the massive area for the springs. And hopefully, a lot less time oriented. Besides, it was an easy multitude for a world worth protecting. “Grab some food and we can start at the northern part first.”

--

This is an 8 round RQ/PQ place stones all around the borders of the Citadel. Round one – grab some breakfast and a bucket of rocks and off we go to the northern part of the wall!

1. Deimos
2. Amhran
3. Iskra

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

ISKRA

"Starting to feel like you're a geologist at heart," Iskra mutters to Deimos as he finds himself entrenched in work meant to reshape the grounds yet again. He runs a hand through his stubble, scratching idly at the corner of his jaw as he steels himself for the upcoming labor. "If you make a joke like, it rocks, I'm leaving." There's a grin to the threat of his words, and a huff of a laugh in his exhale as he grabs his own bucket of stones and busies himself with the most important work of all, selecting breakfast.

Goose's nose surfs along the table edge behind him, as ominous as a grey fin slicing against ocean water. "Git," Iskra chastises the dog, pushing his leg against the beast and away from the food. "I always give you some, stop being a menace." For good measure though, Iskra grabs a cut of ham and chucks it across the way, Goose wheeling after the meat frisbee eagerly. With his moment of peace, Iskra piles on the hashbrowns, eggs, and sausages, mixing them all together on his plate. He takes a few mouthfuls before Goose returns, sitting too adorably at Iskra's feet to be ignored for long.

---

Iskra grabs some breakfast and rocks

It's hard to tell the truth when you lie to yourself
Always give too much of you to someone else
I'm talkin' to you now like we're old friends
It'll never be too late to start again

the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun

One might argue that Amhran can’t go through anything like adolescence, since he’d sprung fully formed from the seed Evie had planted courtesy of Rae… and one would be quite wrong. Whether it’s the prospect of more rocks always, the early hour, or the bright glare of the sun on snow, he arrives squinty eyed and bundled in his coat, heading straight for the table of breakfast. 

Only once he has a cup of hot tea for himself and enough hash browns to feed a small army does he approach Deimos and Iskra, offering the latter a quiet nod and waiting expectantly for the work to begin as he plops into one of the seats. Examining the piles of rocks ruefully, he doesn’t hide the wrinkle of his nose. ”Will it always be stones?” he asks, as if preparing himself to avoid any future endeavours armed with that knowledge.

“Would not have the time,” he rounded back to Iskra, as the Sword polished off his second hash brown, and chugged some of the tea – now lukewarm after doing all the preparations. Nor would he be uttering any dad jokes, so he merely arched a brow at the intended insult, and then snagged at his own bucket, intending to lead them out along their marching orders.

Amhran seemed less than enthused, which wasn’t exactly the usual flair of things, but Deimos let that go. “Hope not,” he muttered instead; after all, he wasn’t the one setting the tasks. “Sometimes its dirt,” came on a more mischievous grin, reserved for the demigod, before they rounded over to their designated area.

And while placing their wares, locals and citizens came scooting by. Nothing out of the ordinary, and most knew exactly what the group was up to. However, that didn’t stop any of the children from ambling forward, beginning to inspect those shiny stones, little hands intending to pry them away from the snow.


--

Round 2 – As the group starts to lay out the stones by the northern gates, some children have come over to look (and possibly snag) the rocks. What will you do? No post order!

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

ISKRA

Between Goose and he, they both made quick work of the plate, sparing only a moment to tip his chin in greeting to Amhran. Iskra spares a moment to mourn the best part of this chore as he slowly places his dirty plate and utensils at the edge of the table, groaning into the lean to pick up the bucket of rocks.

"Isn't dirt just... really really small rocks?" Iskra asks uncertainly as he scatters his stones like chicken feed along the borders that Deimos has indicated. Goose bounds after them at first, snout following the sink into the snow. Yet after each occurrence he finds nothing of interest, so he soon forfeits the game to settle into a supervisory role instead, monitoring their path with a wayward inspection to each bucket every so often. Just to be certain something better hadn't appeared from the last time he checked.

A particularly shiny rock beckons a small girl towards the pattern Iskra had just laid down, and he calls out to her gently. "Hey, I got a better one here." He crouches for a moment, rifling through his bucket for the favorite one he'd spied earlier and set aside, saving it for the very end. It's dark, but marbled with gold veins that dazzle. He extends it to her and she happily agrees it is better and takes it instead. He's certain they have plenty of rocks, but he'd rather not doubt the gaps left behind him due to crow-eyed children.

It's hard to tell the truth when you lie to yourself
Always give too much of you to someone else
I'm talkin' to you now like we're old friends
It'll never be too late to start again

the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun

Considering Deimos ’s point, Amhran takes a few seconds before raising his eyebrows and nodding as if accepting it, before returning to his pile of hash browns. Sometimes dirt is preferable, if he’s honest, because at least he might find things to grow. For now, alas, it’s still rocks, and he nods back to Iskra (and Goose) as they finish up their breakfast and prepare to get to work.

Armed with his own bucket, the Raeling goes about scattering the stones, eyes narrowing a bit as he considers them. ”Dirt really is just small rocks, huh,” he mutters, half to himself, before the children are swarming and they are all at risk of this taking much longer.

Not on Amhran’s watch, though, and he crouches down to make a snowball, which he promptly yeets into the fray. ”Snowball fight!” he cries, hoping to instigate the sort of chaos that will distract the kids from disturbing their task.

---

Amhran scatters rocks and starts a snowball fight to try and distract the children!

He arched a brow at the philosophical inquiry of rocks and dirt, but was then subsequently distracted by the noises of the kids nearby. Once their intentions were clear, his expression turned from amiable to a narrowed-eyed gaze and glare, enough to send several nearby scattering away.

The rest of the dominion though was subsequently distracted by Amhran ’s zeal and idea – the promises of an ensuing snowball fight left the rest wholly distracted, smirking, laughing, and following on the declaration. Loud whoops and cheers could be heard throughout the small mass of kids, and even the one Iskra lured over snagged at the stone he proffered and took off, heading over to make her own snowball.

Which meant Amhran was then hit by one in the shoulder, but thereafter they could move on. “Western part next,” Deimos added, long limbs already shifting towards those portions of the Citadel’s walls, and trying not to laugh as more snowballs reigned behind them.

Up ahead, there did happen to be a flock of ningos situated along the top of the fortifications, which likely wouldn’t be an issue…until they were.

--

Round 3

The kids have been distracted by snowball fights, glares, and rocks, the stones have been placed at the northern gates, and now the group can head to the western part. There’s a flock of ningo hanging out – your characters can decide to leave them alone or immediately do something about them. No post order.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

ISKRA

Amhran's snowball fight rouses a laugh from Iskra, who gladly drops into the brief fray with his own hastily packed ammunition and careful dodges, though the weight of the stones in the bucket is a reminder of the task at hand, so ultimately he's grateful when they busy themselves with the game and leave them be. Goose looks on with a yawn, too accustomed to the snow battles to be alarmed, unless some stray lob should cut too close for comfort.

Iskra traipses along dutifully as they drift westward, fingers continuing to flick out stones along set borders. The onlooking ningos go unnoticed by him, at first, but the abrupt and raucous barking that Goose unleashes at them draws Iskra's attention. The husky snaps at the air, whines punctuating the other vocals as he complains for his lack of reach, the feathered toys not participating properly. Iskra sighs dramatically, an indicator that this is a common occurrence for him. Grabbing hold of a smaller stone, Iskra chucks it towards the flock, hoping they might scatter quick enough that Goose gives up and they can move on.

---

Goose barks at the ningos and Iskra chucks a small rock at them to make them fly away.

It's hard to tell the truth when you lie to yourself
Always give too much of you to someone else
I'm talkin' to you now like we're old friends
It'll never be too late to start again

the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun

A snowball to the shoulder is a small price to pay for the protection of their rocks, and Amhran takes it like a good sport. Grinning after the kids - evidently playing with the snow is the key to banishing some of his moodiness - he brushes the powder from his coat and watches them for a moment as they prepare their battlements, before moving on. "Alright," he calls to Deimos, smiling between the Sword and Iskra and feeling a little more awake as he continues to scatter his rocks.

Which is about when the ningo appear, and you know what? When something works, why change it? Besides which, the Raeling has thrown more than one snowball at the puffy birds in his time, and there's never an occasion when it isn't mildly funny. And so, leaning down once again to scoop up some snow, he forms it into a fat ball and launches it towards the flock, hoping to scatter them before they consider any shenanigans.

---

Falling back on ol' reliable, Amhran yeets a snowball at the ningo flock too for good measure.

Deimos side-eyed the birds; knowing their capacity for feats of stupidity. Their curiosity would’ve been all the more exploited in dim drumbeats; it seemed the others agreed and concurred. As he unleashed a torrent of air magic at the flock, rocks and snowballs flew as well – knocking some clear off the Citadel walls. Snorting, he laughed, probably the first time he’d been able to do so in weeks. “Five points to the next one who can hit them dead on,” as he demonstrated more hilarity by making another go into a sudden tornado of air, then be whisked away in a confusing circle as it hastened off.

Then he started placing the rocks, taking a long breath, and opting for more details of the latest issues amidst Halo, in more hushed tones and endeavors. “I did want to warn both of you that the Head of the Family came to speak to me.”

--

Round 4!

Place your stones, aim at a ningo, and listen to some plot. No post order.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

ISKRA

The silly birds remain on their perches, not seeming to mind the variety of scram being tossed at them, or the ones around them that fall to it. They say ignorance is bliss, but Iskra isn't entirely sure ningos have the capacity to feel much, just hardwired to eat, shit, and annoy.

"Deal," Iskra grins in response to Deimos, not caring what the points are for (nothing most likely). Not that he needs much motivation to continue to try to scatter the dimwitted doves, but the promise of some all the same adds an extra edge to the sling of his arm as he fields another small stone towards the group. The larger ones, the ones he's afraid might kill the things or damage a window if he's not careful, those he tosses out of the bucket and into the borders they're securing. Goose is relentless in his own attempts, spinning in circles on the ground as his gaze is locked above.

---

Iskra scatters more stones and aims again at the ningos with a pebble.

It's hard to tell the truth when you lie to yourself
Always give too much of you to someone else
I'm talkin' to you now like we're old friends
It'll never be too late to start again

the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun

Unable not to snort as his snowball completely takes out one of the ningo on the Citadel walls like he's playing some rigged carnival game, Amhran at least has the decency to wince through his laughter. He glances at Deimos as the challenge spills from the other man's lips, the Raeling meanwhile starting to deposit his stones further around the borders of the area. "Sounds fair to me," he begins, until he's interrupted by his own laughter at the ningo whirling merrily away on a tornado.

Unable to do such a thing himself, he contents himself with another well-packed snowball and lobs it in the birds' general direction, by which time Deimos is talking shop about The Family and Amhran falls very, very quiet. "What did they want?" he asks, turning to gaze across at the Sword. "Should we be worried?"

---

Amhran listens in and yeets another snowball!

Nay, Deimos always had a plan – though the prize at the end was likely going to be extra food. If it kept them entertained and amused amidst placing rocks down, he’d take it. He watched as Iskra launched another towards the group of birds, managing to knock one in the foot this time, and hastening off several others as they blustered and blew and drummed away in obvious irritation.

Amhran ’s aim pressed well into the display of some settling in to nap on the sidelines, hitting one square in the chest. It squawked in surprise, reeling back and disappearing behind the stone ledges of the barrier, and Deimos loosened another snort, shaking his head and arching a brow at the demigod. Five points to the Raeling thus far.

Placing more rocks himself, he then opted to shove another blustering portion of Air magic directly at the remaining birds. They hastened off in various directions, flustered and bothered, likely plotting revenge if they weren’t so dimwitted to begin with.

But then he’d at least gauged Amhran’s interest over the Dorian meeting, and his jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as he lowered his tones again, serious in the subject matter. “Wanted me to take a deal – if I stopped going against them, they would ensure Halo was safe from their interference.” At which he hoped both would understand that the possibility had been futile to begin with. “I declined – but I want you to be careful.” So for all their complaining about the stones, it was for the benefit of many – and would lift some weight from his shoulders.

He took a breath, gazing onward. “We can head south now,” grabbing hold of his bucket, waiting for the inevitable line of questions to unravel.

--

Round Five!

Amhran has gained five points (for food probably) in his perilous fight against the ningo. Head south and hey keep hitting birds if you see 'em.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

ISKRA

Deimos' softer voice had been hard to hear among the inane cussing that Goose brandished at the ningos, but as they each take aim once more and the flock finally disperses, the dog's fervor settles into a glorified middle finger of a huff.

With less competition to be heard, Iskra picks up on Deimos' conversation easier now, and the previous words seem to settle with better recognition now, like he'd heard them but hadn't registered exactly what had been said until something else clicked into place. The news earns a frown from Iskra as he scatters more stones like breadcrumbs for birds, and knowing ningos they likely would try to eat these. "I wonder why now? Almost seems like maybe they're getting worried..." After all, a negotiation requires something from both parties. "Sounds like a hard offer to pass up though too," Iskra admits with a faint sigh. If he'd been in the same position, would he have made the same choice?

Probably, admittedly. Agreeing to that requires a bit of faith in the Family, and as nice as being protected sounds, especially for Deimos who has been pushing back on the island, buying the sword's inaction feels like a bind to tight to take. These notions thread steadily as Iskra follows along south, stones tossed like heavy confetti.

---

stooones

It's hard to tell the truth when you lie to yourself
Always give too much of you to someone else
I'm talkin' to you now like we're old friends
It'll never be too late to start again