go easy on me

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

After Sunjata left, Zavien spent the rest of the day fading in and out of fitful unconsciousness. The times he found himself in reality were filled with gently prodding hands and waves of pain. It faded more with each time, but he still couldn't find the strength to move. Kind voices filtered around him in the darkness, stitching and wrapping the wounds until his entire chest and torso were covered with gauze. Each brush of the injury sent him back under, followed by the memory of ripping tissue and punctured lungs. 

When he woke again, it was without the presence of nurses or healers. How much time had passed, he wasn't sure. His eyes fluttered open to a warmth that eased his muscles, so different from the icy chill that'd eaten into his body through the battle and subsequent... death. He still hadn't quite grasped that part. 

Letting out a soft groan, Zavien used the longer waking moment to take in his surroundings. A fireplace crackled with fire, illuminating the white of his sheets and dressings along with a figure leaning against the wall. He wasn't sure how long the man had been there, but they were a welcome sight nonetheless. The Dragoon summoned the strength to smile, opening his mouth to speak. It took a few tries for his voice to come out audibly, scratchy with disuse. "Deimos?"

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

Deimos had remained by many hospital beds in his multiple lifetimes, and had never particularly cared for it. Heart wrenching, overwhelming, and helpless to truly assist in anything other than watching in some silent vigil, it always rankled over those protective edges and fringes of his carefully built barriers.

These circumstances were different; while Zavien was a friend, he wasn’t Amalia, spine broken by falling temple columns and Deimos desperate to have her healed and mended, nor was he Huyana, too sick to move, quietly dying. Nor was the Sword powerless in this accord; Zuriel stood beside his chair, waiting for the necessity of further tending.

So he sat, quiet amidst the infirmary as the rest of the healers worked, scrawling down a list of various things, and waiting for the Dragoon to eventually wake. As his name flickered along, his eyes went to Zavien, snorting at the smile. “Zavien,” he nodded in return. “Wanted to see how you were doing. And if you wanted some healing sped along,” gesturing to the unicorn, who gave her usual imperial, haughty look.

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

Wetting his lips to strengthen the words, he said, "You know. Never better." Despite the humorous inflection and accompanying smile, the words came out unusually flat, strained. He pushed aside the misery, not wanting to worry the Warden or elicit a (rightfully earned) lecture about self-preservation or second chances. Even without the words, he wasn't rushing to get his insides rearranged again, or have another conversation with Remi outside of a pleasant face-to-face meeting. 

Zavien moved to run a hand through his hair, but gave up when it pulled against the delicate skin. Through the grimace, he chuckled softly enough not to invite further pain with his gruff words. "Although I wouldn't turn down some extra healing." He certainly didn't want to offend the regal creature next to Deimos, but he added, "Your infirmary is really impressive." Despite the pain and overall exhaustion, he'd been a lot worse off when he got there. It made him wonder about how Mel, Soh, and Alys were faring. Sunjata had said they'd survived (with the loss of a companion), but hadn't mentioned whether anyone had been seriously injured. Last time he'd seen Soh, there'd been a concerning amount of blood. 

Swallowing the nerves about what he might hear, Zavien worked up the courage to ask, "Have you seen the others?" It's timid, laced with concern for what may have transpired while he was out, and what other regrets he may have to carry.

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

The Sword arched his brow at the attempts at humor, not feeling in a particularly jovial mood. Motions occurred that had been worth celebrating, but with so much tragedy, mishaps, and miscalculations, it felt a bit foolish to spout about triumph. So much more needed to be done, and his apprehension, trepidation, and restlessness coiled within did nothing to alleviate the parallels drawn from so many years past.

So he didn’t start with lectures, but he could feel them building behind his teeth. Instead, Zuriel rolled her eyes in his direction, and then bowed her head, touching her horn lightly upon Zavien’s chest. The vessel began to glow, emitting her healing properties and pragmatics, while the two conversed.

“Thank you. I will send Evie your compliments.” It had been his wife’s mission to ensure the infirmary was up to high standards. As for the inquiry, he loosened another breath, ruffling a few papers in his hands. “I have ensured Sohalia has been healed, but I have not seen anyone one else yet.” But they were on his list, either by letter or meeting.

Then he took another quiet inhale, steeling himself for the inevitable. “Halo is grateful for your assistance in the Tundra. What you all did was very brave, but also incredibly foolish. I do not want to encourage such actions. I think you can understand why.”

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

Zuriel's gentle touch was like being immersed in a pool of warm water that filled the holes left by his wounds. Muscles relaxed as more of the pain left him. A tight breath released from his lungs and he met the unicorn's eyes with undampened gratitude. "Thank you." A semblance of strength had returned to give his words depth. He'd remember to bring unicorn treats (whatever those may be) next time. 

Pleased to hear Evie would know of her achievement, Zavien nodded his head. It didn't hurt as much this time, but he moved slowly just to be sure. And as he shifted gently in the bed, the confirmation that Soh was on the mend helped ease lingering tensions. "I'm glad she's doing better." His face lightened into a smile but fell just as quickly. 

As much as he'd been expecting them, Zavien visibly flinched at the words, no longer feeling physical pain, but the deeper wound of disappointing a friend. Yet the man across him wasn't just a friend, he was burdened with the leadership of Halo as a whole. Deimos couldn't afford to let people take matters into their own hands, especially when lives hung in the balance, otherwise anarchy would ensue. Perhaps he should have been more considerate, more prepared, more realistic about his own weakness before diving in against the Void.

His head fell with shame. "I do." It was soft but understanding, weighted by a thousand pounds of self-condemnation. Zavien tried to escape the crushing of his heart with a smile, like he'd seen his mother do every day. It faltered slightly before sliding into place, not reaching his eyes. "I'll be more careful."

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

Zuriel persisted in her efforts, the glowing light continuing to emit from her horn. But the Warden’s attention was reserved for the Dragoon, watching, listening, tilting his head in keen observation. The flinch was enough to signify that the other man knew it’d been a harsh, unrelenting outline they’d drawn upon themselves, and even more so now that there were several new names and targets from the Family. At least an understanding seemed to have been reached, even if it drew a very long sigh from him. “I know it is difficult, especially in these times. Many of us have committed the same acts.” Wanting to help, and ending up causing either more calamity, distress, or failure – harsh lessons learned.

Zavien seemed to be harboring enough self-loathing to not have to press anymore into the infirmary room, so he rounded to another portion. “Was there anyone leading this?” Because likely a conversation needed to be had upon rogue plans and not informing sovereigns.

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

The comforting warmth of the healing process did nothing for the pressing guilt upon his conscious. Zavien kept his lips pressed in a weak smile, eager to weather the onslaught of negative emotions through pure willpower. Sunjata had said something similar, but it didn't lessen the darkness of internal resentment that he refused to drown in. He shrunk somewhat in the bed, nodding slowly at the Warden's words, hoping if he kept silent, the digging of his wounds might end. 

Through the haze, his eyes squinted in confusion, trying to figure out what Deimos was asking. "Not really. A few of us heard the broadcast about Halo and came to help. I don't think any of us were really expecting it to be that bad. Or for..." He paused, uncertain what to say. 'Anyone to die?' That was probably the best way to end the phrase, but he couldn't bring himself to say it, not yet. 

Trying to distract himself, Zavien cleared his throat. "So, what happens next?" Mel and Soh had been mentioned by name, and he didn't think the Family was going to take this lying down. Although he may be down now, the Dragoon was already configuring a brutal training schedule both for self-punishment and determined character growth. But after subverting Deimos's authority, he didn't want to assume there wouldn't be consequences, or risk disrupting the man's plans.

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

His reassurances didn’t seem to be doing much good; but Deimos had never been one of comfort and consolation. He could be a shelter and a sanctuary, but soothing words would come from others in his family. Instead, his head remained tilted as he listened, calculating the endeavors, eyes narrowing quizzically. No plan. No expectations. Seemingly out of nothing but the need to help and the lack of preparation to do so. The Warden sighed, incapable of parsing out where the blame lingered or the faults flew – apparently anywhere and everywhere. “I see.” Maybe it had been much like many other circumstances – strangers uniting on the forefront of something necessary.

Deimos didn’t need to comment on the lack of things – Zavien seemed to already hold that in spades. As Zuriel finished up healing, pressing more of the enchantments and provisions towards the Dragoon, the Sword wondered just how much to say. “Protection for Halo,” he offered, not wanting anything else potentially lurking nearby to presume much more. “And for you?”

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

Uncertain whether his recent actions were the reason for the Warden's vague answer, Zavien gave an emotionless numb of his head. "That's understandable." He wouldn't deny that it hurt to be left out, but he couldn't blame the man. How could he trust someone who dove head-first into danger without any form of communication? And ultimately got himself killed? 

Smiling against the disappointed pain, the Dragoon gave Zuriel more soft words of thanks. He already felt a thousand times better than before. There was still progress to be made, but he was able to sit up slowly in the bed to better meet Deimos's eyes. His next topic wasn't something he wanted to talk about without being able to show his full expressions. 

Zavien looked down at the bandages riddling his chest as he said softly, "I'll be taking some time to recover my strength, but I worry if Stormbreak is the safest place to do so..." Spinning Safrin's ring on his finger, he glanced at the empty room. He hoped that Mel's invisibility wasn't a common ability as he voiced his vague concerns. "I've noticed an increased in... viruses within the city." It felt risky to be too open with the topic of the Family, so he stuck to their preferred references of 'sickness' amongst the people. Meeting the serious eyes of the man, he furrowed his brows. "I already suspect someone new to have caught the illness. I don't know how many more..." It was terrifying to think about the number of people who could be wandering Stormbreak, unknowingly infected with the Void. Just the possibility had him wanting to drag Lena and Koa with him to the far corner of Caido. Yet that went against every loyal fiber of his being, tearing his heart in two.

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

Given that Zavien wasn’t a citizen of his region, Deimos didn’t feel wholly inclined to grant every detail of Halo’s plans and developments. Especially after the latest excursions within the Tundra. Vagueness was the only thing he could assure in these moments, uncertain of just how many or who lurked nearby. He preferred to keep his cards close to his chest anyway; careful, composed, furtive, when it was all deemed necessary. In this day and age, sometimes secrets were the only things they had left, that couldn’t be pulled over to the void or the Family’s reaches.

Deimos went to his pockets to grant the unicorn a treat for yet another healing, and the mare happily munched on the contents while Zavien described his own current motivations. Stormbreak didn’t seem safe at all – it was why the Sword never lingered there long and preferred avoidance. “I know that it is your duty to protect Stormbreak,” he tilted his head, framing it as best he could. “But everyone needs an opportunity to find respite. Whether that is in your home or not.” A shrug of his shoulders followed; for the Warden didn’t follow the path of relaxation and rest very often either, but then again, he wasn’t in Zavien’s shoes.

An increase in infection and infestation took away any indentations of a smile, with another sigh to follow. “And apparently mending these people leads to more ire.” He wouldn’t need to wave his hand in the direction of the Tundra; the Dragoon had experienced enough.

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

'Relaxation' wasn't really what he had in mind, but he just nodded, further elaborating. "With Vox mentioning Mel and Soh, I worry that my presence may cause those around me to be targeted." Even if he hadn't been mentioned, Zavien didn't think his resurrection would go unnoticed when he walked into Stormbreak, very much alive. It broke his heart to feel so conflicted about returning home, but he didn't want to risk drawing the Family's attention to Lena or Koa. He couldn't just think of himself and his aspirations to make a difference; he had to take into account their feelings and wishes. 

Sighing, Zavien looked to the fire, wondering if it might hold the answers to what plagued him. Maybe the crackling of logs would tell him how to proceed, how to protect his people and those he cared about. Yet Deimos had him concerned that the initial thought may result in more damages. He hummed, keeping his eyes to the flames. "That's what it seems like... but does that mean we should just leave them?" He'd read the account of Sunjata's experience and he wouldn't wish that on anyone, least of all his fellow Breakers. The Dragoon was genuinely curious of the Warden's stance on the matter. Should they try to heal them? Or just hope that it didn't spread farther while they were out fighting the Void?

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

Given that Deimos constantly guarded, sheltered, and protected, he narrowed his eyes, pondering how best to phrase what he was about to say. “Then you become stronger. For them and for yourself.” And while many might have thought it was easier said than done, the Sword was an example of doing just that – taking advantage of times’s scruples, of abilities, of challenges, of training and mauling and striving to make his thresholds better for the rest. “And quietly.” Nothing overt. Nothing to draw attention. He arched his brow at the last juncture, waiting to see the reaction, even if Zavien didn’t like the notions. “Talk to those you trust and go from there..” What they were willing to do as well. With a caveat, probably. "I would not do so in the heart of Stormbreak though."

Because none of them needed to be alone in these times – couldn’t be, really, without somehow getting picked off.

As for the other question, Deimos didn’t have the answer. The consequences leveled and framed in such a complexity that he could only clench his jaw, restlessly shuffle the papers in his hands. “I do not know. It is a risk either way now.” Would it matter if and when the Citadel was finished fending off the void? Or once they found ways to defend the Tundra as well?

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

Anyone who knew Zavien knew 'quiet' was the farthest thing from his strong suit. He was loud and bold, rushing in headfirst to help wherever he could. But that had literally cost him his life. Could he afford to continue in the same manner? He wasn't so sure. These issues required a more delicate and cautious approach, one that he'd have to learn to master or he might be facing death again sooner than he'd promised. 

Nodding his head, Zavien narrowed his eyes with newfound determination. "I understand." He would get stronger. He would find a way to keep fighting from the shadows. And he would not die again. 

Contrastingly, his heart felt like it was beating against the bandages, trying to find a way out of the corner they'd been put in. He may have made a personal decision, but that didn't help the pandemic overtaking Stormbreak. Zavien had to clench his teeth against the wave of uncertainty, continuing to spin the ring on his finger. "Do you want me to tell you when I find more? Or would you prefer not to know?" If they weren't going to do anything about it, would it just be more painful to know that the infection was spreading? Zavien couldn't make that decision for the Warden, but he'd give him the choice. The choice to be involved. Or not. He couldn't say he blamed Deimos either way. With the fight so close to home now, it would be risky to draw more attention to himself or spread his resources elsewhere.

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

Hence the recommendation; the Sword had once been a brash soldier too, but instruction, experience, heartache, war, and loss had cut down all the filaments of audacity and woven them into someone quiet, conniving, seditious, and covert. He typically wasn’t the first to strike. He understood defenses, both inward and outward. He trained and grew and prepared; sometimes painstakingly, meticulously, for all the machinations and possibilities laden within his mind, and then still grasped for more.

Deimos didn’t know what Zavien had gone through in his lifetime – save for this latest, unfortunate plunge, but the Warden understood death and what it took away. What it gave back. And the opportunity laden before the Dragoon shouldn’t go to waste in another ambitious swing of the blade or a bombastic dive into more chaos. Comprehension would collect in its humble or practical methods, and Zavien would be stronger for it.

He nodded at the measures, but then tilted his head again at the questions. While Zuriel snorted, Deimos thought, eyes narrowing again at the inquiry. Contrary to popular belief, he didn’t enjoy the innocence and bliss of ignorance; information was vital. Those infected could be avoided, or mended, depending on the circumstance, and while they were holding off for now, given the present situation, there were now potentially two, or more, still in the thrall of the Family’s infection. “I would like to know.” If Zavien was willing to share. “And maybe, in time, we can return them to normal.”

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same