[o] [SE] Country Fried

Gonna show him what little girls are made of — gunpowder and lead

Colt took Deimos up on his offer for dinner following their successful hunt of the ursurs. Well, successful is a term she'd use loosely. The three ursurs were dead, true, and they all managed to survive with no injuries, also true. Yet Colt still found wounds to lick on their trek back to Halo. She replayed the moments of the struggle over and over again in her mind, selecting different choices, trying to see how things would have gone if she'd acted differently, better. She stayed in Halo a few days to rest up and prepare for the travel home.

Contemplating all the work she'd need to do to travel to the different regions to post about her Rodeo, the encounters Frey had asked of her, and the unrelenting reality of how weak she'd been on the hunt, Colt's mind was as busy as the cup of ale she spun between her fingers. They traced a lazy arc around the rim, the amber liquid inside shivering against the cup as it rolled faintly with the motion. She took a sip, and the sound of it setting back on the table seemed to clear her head for a moment. Her eyes brightened, and she glanced down at her plate of ribs and took a bite. Outside, her horse Beans, put his back to the wind and dozed, ready to leave whenever she was.

Colt

DEIMOS

Tending to Halo at large kept him busy – there was the overall region to consider at all times, then the Barracks and soldiers, then the guild itself, so by the end of most days he’d traversed along the Citadel and Palace portions enough times to work up a plentiful appetite. With plans already made for dinner at home, he’d snack in between tasks, never intending to forgo any semblance of food when he could help it.

So armed with some chicken, already fried from the local stands, his eyes caught the familiar horse tied outside the Guild – brow arching and head tilting in contemplation, before letting himself in. His first stop was towards the bounty boards, and waving to several others studying over the table closest to the hearth, listening to a few sparse moments of conversation as they were replaying efforts over something near the Greatwood.

Tracing his way to the library, intending to enter in the latest notes from the void ursur hunt, he finally saw Colt. “Hello,” he rumbled in greeting, before placing his food down, and reaching towards the shelf to obtain the newest journal of accounts and creatures he’d been working through. Glancing back her way, noting the ribs and ale, he withheld a snort, and instead resumed his stance by turning a few pages until he found a blank sheet of parchment. “Everything all right?”

think about this
you have the ability to survive anything

Gonna show him what little girls are made of — gunpowder and lead

She glanced up from her plate, a thumb wiping free some of the sauce on her lip as she worked to finish her bite so she could respond. "Howdy," she managed to get out with a thin smile, tilting her head at him. It was no surprise to see him here, his kingdom, his guild, but she was surprised he'd set his food down and was...checking in on her? He did it in the most standoffish way possible, nearly seeming bored by the social requirement as he rifled through books and pages. She sighed through her nose and took a swig of ale before turning a bit in her seat to better regard him.

"Fine as a long-tailed cat in a room of rocking chairs," she said brightly to him, a smile quirking up one side of her lips. "By that I mean, I'm not sure if I'm cut out for this guild of yours. I feel like I didn't pull my weight much during our hunt." As soon as she said it she regretted it, and her nose wrinkled with distaste. She sounded like a child complaining. Gods above, she didn't have to actually answer him truthfully. She could have said, yeah! and they both could have moved on with their lives. "Anywaaaaay," she drawled, turning back around to her ribs to let him know he didn't have to worry about her, "I'll be alright. Just got the jitters is all, no different from breaking out two-year olds." In this case, she felt like the filly getting broken out.

Colt

DEIMOS

His eyes widened a moment at the expression, snorting at the jest, before shaking his head and creating a piece of charcoal in his hands. “I was not certain of your experience,” he started, finally sitting down towards the end of the table, beginning to sketch something lightly on the parchment while putting notes down the side. “So I apologize if you got the impression that every hunt is like that.” The difficulties depended on the creatures, and the hunters involved; perhaps he’d expected more of those willing to set up for void ursurs.

Snagging at a piece of chicken and taking a few bites, and wiping his hands on a napkin before continuing, he finished on a portion of the tusks, different from the usual ursur. Eventually he glanced back up at her, head tilting in that vague sense that he was contemplating something and saying very little of the machinations behind his eyes. “Truthfully, I have never seen anyone try to lasso a bear.” To which he smiled, loosening a laugh. “No judgment though." Well, a little, but it had been in the moment and he'd already been mildly irritated. "My wife once rode a landshark.” And a banshee – but that was mostly to stab it. Pausing and taking a breath, before resuming a few more notes scrawled on the side, he merely presided amidst caution. “I simply do not want to see anyone seriously injured when it can be avoided.”

think about this
you have the ability to survive anything

Gonna show him what little girls are made of — gunpowder and lead

He's kind in his approach, as if accustomed to shaping new recruits or otherwise inspiring motivation into others. Which, she supposed as a leader of a hardy region, must be something he's practiced often. It doesn't minimize its effect for all his experience. "I could have been more forthright," she reflected. "I have mostly been ranching my whole life, but decided to pick up better defensive skills since the void-infected creatures remain a continual threat. I underestimated the power of the beasts." It's not an easy thing, to reflect and admit wrong-doing, least of all for someone proud like her. The experience had been earth-rattling for her though, showing her just how small her knowledge truly was. He seemed to suggest she not give up yet, that other experiences might be smoother, better rounded for her talents. To that she smiled, a quiet promise that she'd made no final decision yet. Ultimately, she still wanted to learn.

As he seemed to return to his paperwork she set back into her ribs, chewing thoughtfully when he turned to her next, his laugh sparking one of her own fraught with the disbelief of her own choices. "There might be good reason for that," she grinned, though admittedly she was proud she'd managed it, though it was by no means the damaging series of blows needed to vanquish the beast. Maybe once she put her rodeo behind her she'd focus on strengthening up her armaments.

"Rode a landshark?!" Colt's eyes widened, a mix of horror and admiration. "I've ridden many a beast, but that isn't one I'd dare." He didn't say his late wife, so that must mean she survived to tell the tale. Shaking her head at the idea of it, Colt reached for another gulp of her ale, glancing up at Deimos from the rim of her cup as he reiterated what he had impressed upon her during the hunt itself. For that, she was grateful, and offered him a warm smile as she put the cup down. "I appreciate that. It's a sound desire and good guidance for the rest of us. Sometimes smart decisions only seem to want to come after poor ones though, guess that's why practice is so important." Practice being dumb so you could be smart for real.

Colt

DEIMOS

Admittance to faults, flaws, misconceptions, and mistakes was a breath of fresh air, and he snorted. “We have all been there.” For all the breadth and experience instilled had come with heavy losses, major underestimations, and the wide-eyed admittance of stepping too deep into danger that one couldn’t handle. Over the years he’d carved enough power to ensure those around him were safe as well, if they permitted the shield of his protection. If they chose to fling themselves into foolish notions, there was only so many things he could do. “Hence why it is important to listen,” to which he wrinkled his nose again, juvenile and boyish, before tending back to the stroke of the charcoal against the page.

“Probably. If they were smaller, you might have had a better chance,” of at least snagging one and committing to the bit. Realizing he shouldn’t be encouraging it, he snorted again, letting Evie’s brief story make the situation humorous. “No, I do not recommend it. From what it sounded like, it was a mistake,” though he wouldn’t put it past the Evergreen to sugarcoat the tale so he wouldn’t immediately overwhelm in concern. He made sure not to mention the banshee war incident either. Snacking on another piece of smaller chicken, his head tilted, studying the picture he’d contorted, before moving on to more notes. “There is something to be said for practice – if we keep to things we can handle. And then eventually, through the growth and experience, we can tackle much more difficult things.” Pondering, he flipped through a few other pages. “I have seen an unfortunate amount of void creatures in King’s End as well.”

think about this
you have the ability to survive anything

Gonna show him what little girls are made of — gunpowder and lead

There's a sly acknowledgement of his thoughts on smaller ursurs being easier to lasso that passes with a smile and a tilt of a hat. That her foolish idea seemed to garner some recognition from him, she could be a bit relieved that she'd done something of note, however that note might end up reading. Her lariat skills were by far better than her bow and arrows, so perhaps she could work with Frey to build a better rope for dealing with the void.

"So you aren't recommending a landshark for one of my rodeo bulls?" she asked wryly, giggling at the notion as she snared some more meat from the bone.

Nodding along to his notions of practice, she wiped her sauce-slicked fingers on a napkin. She definitely needed to spend more time firing at a target dummy. Maybe it was time to look into hiring more hands if she was serious about committing to improving her attacks and defenses. "Yes," she admitted with a resigned sigh, tipping her cup of ale again with no intention of drinking more just yet. Under the table she shifted one leg over another, the free-swinging boot tapping at the air. "Sunjata is working on amending that, in some areas, but it requires much work, as I'm sure you know. Our Archon has accomplished much since taking up his mantle, but there's an endless amount to do it seems to make any headway with repelling the void." Not all of the townspeople were so willing to pitch in either, though she supposed any town had such troubles, much as it mystified her. "I did not expect this would still be a topic all this time later, but here we are." To that, she could no longer resist taking another drink.

Colt

DEIMOS

“Depends on how much you value your participants,” he granted with another wry and juvenile grin, strongly implying that should she go that route, probably most of them would be eaten, wounded, or fleeing from the scene. “And if you ever want to hold the event again.” Granted, he wouldn’t put that past many – they’d had several festivals that would never see another year based on the traumatic experiences surrounding the threshold.

Taking another piece of chicken, he studied the picture he’d manifested, wisely not adding any lassos or ropes to the tusks, listening to the other portions of Sunjata’s actions. That much he’d already known – being infected had cost King’s End a great amount of time – but snagging at the void crystals from their Starfall trip last season had also afforded boons in their dedication to regions. “It is unfortunate,” which could encompass the whole regard – fighting the urge to roll his eyes whenever the irritation began to irk just below his pulse. “We are intending to make some headway with gardening on a particular island, but we will see,” as the last venture hadn’t been easy. And at some points, barely feasible.

think about this
you have the ability to survive anything

Gonna show him what little girls are made of — gunpowder and lead

He surprised her with his humor. He'd seemed so stoic and indomitable, nothing more than a walking artifact of Halo, shaped by the cold to be cold. He wasn't obvious about it, always sly and subtle, like he was aware of the image he had to upkeep. It made it all the funnier then.

It stiffened as the topic veered from one danger to another. His talk took on a different tone, lower, and rounded with specifically chosen words. She'd never stopped to consider it much, but then she didn't much speak about it, just did her best to grin and bear it day in and day out. Deimos likely had to talk about it often, and carefully, his role and strength a necessary set of shears amid the overrun weeds. She thumbed her nose in understanding. "I wish you all the best of luck on that. I'm sure you don't need it said, but the rest of the garden's health depends on that pruning." A gentle smile is offered. "Guess it's all the more reason I should keep studying the plants."

A glance skips from him to the paperwork he's been studiously working on. "What's that?" she asks, curiosity sparked.

Colt

DEIMOS

The Sword would often like to be thought of as something immovable, a bit of icy Halovian crag, a quiet, potent mountain. An unyielding force to be reckoned with, or resolutely avoided, so that others left his region and people alone, through sheer reputation. But he also had to have his moments of clarity, growth, and connections – because, for all that he’d tried in life (hordes of times), no one was infallible or intangible. He’d had to grow from forged steel and scars, to something and someone who could contort and create bonds and attachments. Otherwise, he’d likely still be scattered amidst the world somewhere, lost in his own grief and inflexible soul.

Humor, though dry and often juvenile, at least prevailed through the harsher lines of Caido.

Starfall shaped it into something else though, and he wrinkled his nose. “We are aware,” given whatever was building on the island. “And we likely need to find others to tend to the rest of the lands,” like the desert and the Draig, effected and infested, but with no one yet venturing to ensure they could be healed again.

As for his paperwork, he turned the journal around and sent it across the table. “Journaling our encountered void flora and fauna. I have several of them,” to which he gestured to the stack amidst the bookshelves behind him, accessible to anyone in the guild. “But I like to keep up with the notes, to discern if there are changes.” Colt would be able to see a flurry of actions taken upon the altered ursur, with sketches of the creatures on the side, of their various sizes, with more neat and refined handwriting scrawled on the side, dictating estimations and assaults.

think about this
you have the ability to survive anything

Gonna show him what little girls are made of — gunpowder and lead

Colt both wanted to be able to ignore the blight upon their lands and assist in choking out. Staying in the bubble of her ranch, which already required so much time and energy, was very appealing, especially given all the limits of her abilities to actually contribute meaningfully. Yet she was also someone who liked to get shit done, and sitting around waiting on others had never sat right with her, so the urge to charge ahead into the fray to help burned like a fire waiting to be stoked. She was not foolish though, usually, she knew her limits—the void ursur hunt had certainly provided her a reminder should she choose to get too big for her own britches. So, she only nodded along at his mention of others needing to tend the lands. She was not part of that others, not for now. Maybe in time, because she would not stop here or now, but hopefully it would not take all of Caido that much time to vanquish this purple reign.

She pulled the journal towards her as he slid it across. She took a moment to gaze over each scrawl and notation, skimming, but also appreciating the small details he'd imparted here and there. "This is great," she appraised, glancing up and slipping it back across the table to him. "So many learn and don't share...or don't record and depend on memory." She looks at him with genuine appreciation. "Thank you, for helping teach me some things before, with the ursurs."

Colt

DEIMOS

Deimos had never been afforded the luxury of ignoring prevailing plot efforts within Caido. Somehow, through either his power or rank, he usually ended up involving in fighting back, in sedition, in subversive measures, to ensure the decline of some other platitudes against them. Whether it be in wars, or this new way of destroying, infiltrating, and unfurling parasitic means into a land, he, like many others, simply couldn’t permit the thought of another coming in to conquer. To take over, like they were nothing at all.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t understand others’ predicaments – but that was where the searching of flowers could come in. If someone didn’t find themselves capable of fighting the many onslaughts, there was always the prevailing measures of going back and forth – until fortune found them. Or until they grew in prowess, and could find the wherewithal to combat the litany of beasts and plants scouring the system and dynamics.

“We have made sure to recount most of the animals encountered, not just hunted,” so any time she’d find the need to explore vast creature accounts, they’d be readily available here. “I think it is wise to provide a foundation for what we can share.” Whether it be in this lifetime or in hordes of years from now – gods knew they could’ve done with information left behind by ancestors of these lands. "Feel free to look through them."

Taking the book back and finishing up on the end portions, he grinned. “You are welcome. Thank you for being willing to listen.” As many – as she might’ve noted already in her travels and life – were not.

think about this
you have the ability to survive anything

Gonna show him what little girls are made of — gunpowder and lead

The offering of the collected notes earned a surprised slackening of her jaw, and then a nod of appreciation. "I will keep that in mind," she murmured, "there's always a strange thing or two going bump in the night, especially lately. Would be good to know what I can." She had never been the overly studious type, preferring to learn on the job, but she'd make a point to use all the tools at her disposal, and return the favor when she could.

"Does everyone share, or are these all done by you?" She wondered if Sunjata had his own, similar scrawlings or library. Knowledge was rampant throughout Caido, but it was scattered and sometimes guarded. That also made it easier to protect from threats, but made it difficult for others to acquire the knowledge too. She at least knew about this source now, but had a mind to ask her Archon about their own reserves next time she saw him.

She waved a hand at his thanks, because honestly it was not deserved, though she smiled all the same. "Gods save us from the fools who can't," she laughed.

Colt

DEIMOS

“Rae and Frey occasionally create new ones. Maybe to keep us on our toes,” he shrugged, sharing in the humor. Gods knew they had enough on their hands; but the heralds and deities alike also aimed for some sort of balance, as far as he could understand.

Polishing off a few more pieces of chicken, his brow arched at the question, not expecting that particular chord. Not that it mattered much – so he placed another line of charcoal upon the page and glanced back at the bookshelves in question. “I cannot take all the credit. I have made several, and most of my other guild colleagues have as well. We have shared what we can of the void cretins.” Especially to those who had no access to the guild library – like Ancients – though out of spite, he still felt rather irritated at granting some of them to Maea.

He gave a laugh at the other notion though, and a snort to follow. “You would be surprised.” Those unwilling to listen, to change, to alter, drove not only lands, but others, and themselves, into such a bizarre complacency that Deimos simply couldn’t stand.

think about this
you have the ability to survive anything