[RA] [SE] hearts held in hands

What had initially started as a means to ensure Erebos napped turned into a shared enterprise. Meticulous to a fault, and working on a list, Deimos had been upright on the couch while the youth fussed and wrangled around, until eventually the infant succumbed to the powers of slumber. By then, the Sword had conjured a list of ideas and possibilities on protecting their home from wayward spirits – some very foolish and amusing, to essentially pragmatic – and placed the parchment upon the table.

And slowly began to doze off himself.

It could’ve been the warmth of the nearby fire, lack of many respites throughout the day, or at large, being a light sleeper overall, but eventually the sofa claimed him too – so he was sprawled across the entire length of the vessel, Erebos on his chest, arm over the infant in constant vigilance and protective forces. Belial had taken it upon himself to be a gargoyle figure, perched upon the back, content and curled as well.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

Lift off your arms and I'll get the coffee

Evie is not intentionally quiet as she moves throughout the house, but her thick woolen socks and the whispering steps of Micah beside her lends to it naturally. It's a quiet day in the house, one meant for recharging batteries previously spent on long days coordinating the particulars of Frey's requirements. Evie turns into the living room with a book held loosely in one hand. She isn't sure if she wants to read it, but in case the mood strikes she doesn't want to have to fetch it from the library once she's comfortable and reluctant to rise. 

Her eyes scan automatically, dropping immediately to Deimos on the couch. Immediately she has to bite the inside of her cheek as her dimples deepen with the force it takes to suffocate the giddy noise that rises in her throat at the heart-melting picture they paint. One of Erebos' chubby little legs is sprawled across Deimos' stomach, nudging up against the protective arm laid over his back. Evie tiptoes over, setting her book down on the table beside the paper Deimos must have been working on before sitting herself down beside it as well. 

Grinning, she holds up a 'shhh' finger toward Belial as she snags the paper and flips it over to begin sketching the scene. She's more of a painter, but her skill has grown considerably since the early days of their relationship when he'd encouraged her to pursue the hobby. Graphite scratches softly against parchment as she captures their slack-faced, relaxed expressions with a smile so sappy it makes her cheeks ache. Only once she's made enough progress to put the details in later - and Deimos is quite a light sleeper, so he could wake any moment - does the Evergreen turn the paper back over to curiously examine what her husband had been scribing. 

Grinning at some of the more lighthearted ideas, Evie rises again (wincing at the soft squeak of wood as she does) and sets the paper back down with the sketch facing up. Micah - who had been watching from the armchair across from the sofa - jumps down to join her and she hushes him in a librarian's scolding hiss for the thump of his paws but doesn't pause in her mission. Retrieving the candles they usually reserve for thematic lighting and late nights bent over documents, she begins to place them on the windowsills, lighting them as she goes. Incense isn't normally her thing when it comes to aromatics, but perhaps they can burn or smoke some of her herb blends...? Regardless, when one or both of them awake the soft glow of candles will be growing in number by the minute, flickering in the glass panes in long dancing stretches of orange that chase away the darkening sky beyond.

There's sleep in your eyes, I'll pull the curtains back gently

Evie

Not one to succumb to a full slumber unless thoroughly and completely exhausted, he could hear the Evergreen movements throughout the house. Rather than raise any alarm, it kept him calm, composed, and relaxed, used to the motions, comforted by the sounds of her maneuvering. Micah’s light padding was an additional amusement, and so he didn’t move or open his eyes as she came closer. Belial provided enough warning anyway with his own sight, so much so that Deimos had to refrain from giving himself away in a very restrained and muffled snort as she began to spy upon their scene.

Not well versed in being anyone’s sketch material, he couldn’t quite complain about it without spoiling pretenses, or waking up the child dozing on his chest. The flipping of the paper signaled other things, so by the time she turned around, snagging at materials, he’d briefly opened one eye, watching as she began retrieving the candles. It hadn’t been his foremost and favorite idea, but the most pragmatic in ensuring no spirits gathered outside their windows, and his gaze followed her around the room as she granted fire, then shuffled further down.

Amused enough to give up some of his ruse, he gave a long, deep sigh, before purposefully altering the hues of the flames – some a vibrant pink, others a crisp blue, a flaring and crimson red, just to see if she’d notice.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

Lift off your arms and I'll get the coffee

Perhaps entirely due to her shushing him earlier, Micah gives no indication to Evie that he has any knowledge of Deimos' current state of awareness. Instead once he tires of shadowing her - as she goes back and forth across the room in unpredictable patterns - the jaguar hops onto the coffee table and sits like a fluorescent sphinx watching over Deimos and Erebos.

At the window, Evie at first blinks hard when the flames shift color, as one might attempt to blink away sunspots. "Maybe I need a nap too," she murmurs with a humorous tone as she turns toward Micah, who levels her with an unimpressed look. Gravitating back to Deimos given the sigh she'd heard, Evie kneels by the couch and gently brushes stray strands of hair out of his face with a smitten smile. "You ready to wake up my love?" She'll always let him sleep when he can achieve it, but she doubts he will be for much longer (unaware that he already isn't).

There's sleep in your eyes, I'll pull the curtains back gently

Evie

Between Belial and Micah, they were a well-guarded duo, and Deimos sought to bide his moments carefully, pondering how much longer he could polish the ruse. Contemplating a pattern of hues for her to find along the flames, it didn’t seem to matter as Evie made her way back towards them. He could feel the briefest touches flickering over his face, instinctually and inherently preening at the semblances. He snorted, amused, leaning into the strokes while opening one eye once more; piercing blue leveled at her. “You are always welcome to join us.” Were there not an infant in his arms, he might’ve already snagged and pulled her into him; freely giving in to those small segments of time they had. In case she obliged, he scooted, carefully, slowly, and cautiously so as not to disturb the youth, over towards the back of the cushions, granting her space.

Huffing again as he glanced around and pretended as if he’d been unaware of her prior proceedings, his brow arched. “Did you do everything without me?” The Sword was known to pout occasionally, and his features might’ve said as much at present – granting a put-upon sigh for the theatrics.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

Lift off your arms and I'll get the coffee

She’s not overly startled when he speaks, voice too clear to convince her he’s awoken at her voice alone. Though she does affect a wry expression of loving exasperation at his impeccable deceit. Though imagining him on a stage or in a production is humorous, his acting would put everyone to shame if he ever felt inclined to join their ranks. Even years at his side haven’t granted her all the insight just yet.

As he maneuvers sideways she turns yo sit on the sliver of couch next to his hip instead of the coffee table, arm resting over the back to peer down at both man and babe. “I can’t accomplish some of the wild ideas you came up with,” she teases, though surely with their magic combined it wouldn’t be completely out of the question. “It’s nice, though. Doing it. I thought the nesting urge would fade after he was born but…” Evie’s eyes trail to Erebos’ sleeping face and her expression softens further, besotted. “I don’t know. There’s something about keeping the world out there and my family safe in here that felt good to do alone. Like defending Halo but…more.” She shrugs her elevated arm awkwardly, the soft lighting and the picture on the table behind her wrapping her up in its spell. “But I’m sure we can find more for you to do, or help me finish.”

There's sleep in your eyes, I'll pull the curtains back gently

Evie

Deimos valued minor trickery, cunning, and amusements over any notions of performances – his pretenses were reserved for either impassivity over layers of hidden, furtive trepidation, or dry, sometimes neglected humor. Besides, he loathed the spotlight.

Opening both eyes to behold his wife with all of his keen sight, his heartfelt appreciation was one sentiment across his features few rarely got to see; before his nose wrinkled instinctively at her jest. Maneuvering his shoulders in a small shrug, though not enough to dislodge the babe on his chest, he mused. “Wild, but fun, perhaps,” imagining conjuring makeshift creations and contortions to shield and guard their home. “Not fond of the gargoyle idea, then?” His lips quirked into a faint smile, the meaning clear that she shouldn’t be surprised to find any lingering on their roof at some venture.

He followed her gaze back to their son though, the grin remaining as the baby’s back gently rose and fell with his slumbering breaths. “I understand.” Maybe not the nesting urgency, but certainly the level of protection always there, brimming and brewing under the surface; only heightened into demanding prowess once Erebos was born. The suggestion made his brow arch, and he began to sit up, slowly, so as not to disturb the youth at all. “Let me put him in his room, and then we can see what is left.”

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

Lift off your arms and I'll get the coffee

Evie's laughter isn't enough to wake their son, but it fills the space like a warm cloud all the same."Never denied the fun - just might be a delayed payout," she points out with a wink. Her eyes then flick toward the ceiling, as if she might somehow be able to see through its painted surface to the floors and roof beyond. "If they were less...traditional gargoyles then maybe. They're rather grotesque, and not in an enjoyable art-snob way." Though she's far from educated enough on art to even pretend at being a connoisseur of any kind, she's seen more than enough people with their noses in the sky insisting feebler minds simply didn't see the vision.

Humming her agreement, Evie watches him maneuver up and off the couch without waking Erebos, switching only enough to settle into the crook of the couch arm for when he returns. The sketch has found its way back into her hands, and she refines it idly as she waits; it's not as if she'll hide it from him, though it's more for her eyes than his by nature of the tableau it paints.

There's sleep in your eyes, I'll pull the curtains back gently

Evie

“Like I would make a grotesque gargoyle,” he murmured in response, half offended and half amused, bargaining the emotions into a singular wrinkle of his nose and a mulish, childish, but quiet raspberry blown in her direction. But then he was gone down the hall, gently placing Erebos into his crib, trying to stifle any unnecessary noise or interruption that would lull the baby out of slumber.

Continuing the conversation as though he’d never left, he gave another deeper intonation, mind plotting away in its usual fervor, figuring she was glancing over his list, rather than the sketch. “I could model them after our companions,” or far more noble creatures like luxere, rather than some impish looking ghoul.

Leaning over the couch, and purposefully placing his chin on the top of her head, his eyes went to her, other ideas forming in his brain. “What do you think of having some sort of party for the boys in Deepfrost?” Like a birthday celebration, he supposed, even if he'd never had one of his own, plenty of others seemed to hold them in honor of these milestones.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

Lift off your arms and I'll get the coffee

"But then would they still be considered gargoyles?" She flings back on a teasing edge, contrarian and pedantic for the sake of being an endearing nuisance. Admittedly the idea of adornments modeled after their companions - regardless of material - is an appealing one, and Evie's expression betrays that intrigue immediately. She reserves her response for his return, huffing a faint laugh when his chin plonks onto her head. "Belial might lose it entirely if he sees them on the roof. He seems the type to love a statue in his honor." The excited display he might put on is already worth the investment in her eyes. 

Meanwhile, as someone who does love birthdays and had experienced their fair share of them, Evie brightens immediately at the proposal. He can't see that part exactly, but her body language does the rest for her, shifting and rising in a subconscious fidget of energy. "Yes! We can do something small if they want," they being Amhran, because Erebos is a magnetic people-person even in infancy and it's hilariously entertaining to watch happen, "or we can throw something with an open invite? Fun foods from other regions, games, gifts?" Already it's shaping up in her head, envisioning options to entertain and celebrate their oddly-paired sons reaching their first year milestones in the same season.

There's sleep in your eyes, I'll pull the curtains back gently

Evie

“Mm. Zuriel too.” Both companions seemed to hold that threshold of pride; though the unicorn would always be far more dignified and pompous than any of them combined. Belial probably wouldn’t leave his alone, and the mare would’ve been a walking sovereign.

Already thinking of negating the entire notion simply on those mental images, he sighed, wondering over the parameters of the birthdays too. It had been a simple thought, not wholly invested because Erebos would be one, and likely not remember it at all (save for the attention), and he didn’t know of Amhran’s opinions of the potential occasion. Sighing low enough to ruffle her crimson locks, he considered. “Likely need to ask Amhran what he would like. I did not intend for a big crowd.” And maybe those were his own flaws and introversion talking; but after so many weeks of traversing back and forth, action after action after action, some days he truly wanted nothing more than to stay home with his family. Not bothered. Not needed. Not hastening off to some other land or tossing idiotic Floods into springs.

His eyes drifted to the top of her head, taking his chin away so one hand could simply ruffle and tousle her hair, watching as some strands stood nearly upright, before maneuvering out of the way, and heading towards the remaining candles. "Were you thinking of anything specific for the region this season?" He would, as per usual, be inclined towards training - no one had opted for trading with them, but there was the possibility of implementing more resources into the expanse itself.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

Lift off your arms and I'll get the coffee

"Zuriel would somehow make it obvious she liked it, but that we should've done it sooner," Evie corrects with a grin. Belial would simply explode into feathers and fur with excitement, like a dog seeing its own reflection in a mirror for the first time. Or so she likes to imagine if only because the visual is so hilarious on its own.

"I don't think we even have enough close friends who also know the boys to constitute a big crowd," she points out with a huff of a laugh. It's a level of community she's content with, though she doesn't have the reservations Deimos does around such social events. If she had, her parents would have written both her and Sam off as utter losses.

Making a noise of affront and objection as he ruffles her hair, she turns her head enough to give him a stink eye. "Just for that you get a short answer: training." Huffing, she turns her head back around and reclines further into the couch corner. In reality it's to hide the twitch of the corner of her mouth that threatens a smile. Evie also proves herself a liar within a fraction of a second, incapable of actually being as blunt and vague as she'd sworn. "Infrastructure is stable and relationships with the other regions are too. Until something changes, I don't think we need to deviate from training for a while." Manpower will always be a turning point in the tide of war, so why not consistently invest in it?

There's sleep in your eyes, I'll pull the curtains back gently

Evie

“And wonder why there are not many more monuments to her greatness,” he replied. Even in his overt fondness for the unicorn, especially after all the times she’d saved him, and countless others, there were days where the pompousness was quite an unwelcome spectacle.

Snagging at the candles until there were enough in his hands and arms, balancing them on his muscles, he opted to start taking the stairs; towards libraries and home offices, cozy nooks and crannies that made up the remainder of their refurbished home. As for close friends, he nearly argued that he had many more nowadays than before; then left it - because truthfully, it wasn’t about him either – it depended on what Amhran would prefer. If anything at all.

“Fine by me,” at the answer of training, giving her a broad, boyish, juvenile grin, as much as tease as anything else, before he began disappearing upwards.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

Lift off your arms and I'll get the coffee

Evie tries to make a humming noise of consideration but can't help laughing through it. "It's a good question though, isn't it? Maybe we should make more statues of companions in general as art installations." And if there is a disproportionate amount of statues dedicated to their companions, well, it's not like Halovians can't commission their own. It's the perfect excuse to creating unofficial mascots for their region. 

Standing as well once he begins to move about and collect candles, Evie follows him up the stairs with an absentminded smile that slowly fizzles until she slows and stands on one of the stairs, looking up at her husband's back as he continues climbing. 

"Honey? I have a...difficult question," she murmurs, the quiet enclosed space of the stairs carrying it easily up to him. If he turns to look at her, she will tilt her head toward the library, hoping to divert them from their path to somewhere she can discuss this while seated.

There's sleep in your eyes, I'll pull the curtains back gently

Evie