snow laughing matter

Deimos

Dare we know the halo's hanging low

Deimos knew multitudes about protection – he lived and breathed it every day. From defenses, safeguards, shielding, the leaps and bounds of assaults and sieges, weaponry, arsenals, and warfare, his whole life had been a mantle of fortresses and barricades. So when Safrin called for him to use an unconventional means of utilizing his armor for protection, it took a little more machinations than ones honed from muscle memory.

But the Sword was anything but complacent; and off he and Erebos went towards the Greenwing, settling in amongst the blooming plants and gentle springs running rivulets amidst ice and snow. The toddler giggled and squealed his way through the emerging flowers, while Deimos snorted, watching Belial drift above and listening to the snorts of Zuriel behind them, as they zigged and zagged at the child’s behest.

Armor slung over his shoulder, carting it around until they found the necessary means and measures amidst his intentions, his eyes flickered back to Erebos, as he grasped hold of some blossoms. “Your mother would know that one,” and Amhran too; instead the Warden went to plucking it out of the youth’s fingers as it was wrenched haphazardly towards his mouth. Snorting, they maneuvered onward, more towards frozen patches of earth. “We can go over there,” with a lure of snacks and mischief on the horizon.

You won't stay with me, I know

Koa has never been to the Greenwing before, and as the wander through the valley he finds himself wondering why that is. The verdant swathe of lively green stands in stark contrast to the rest of the snowy wasteland, more rich and beautiful than anything the boy had come to expect from Halo. Despite having believed he'd never want to see a forest again after this season spent in the Greatwood, he's rather taken with the evergreen valley, the trickle of frigid, glacial waters and the smell of shedding pines.

He'd come to meet Deimos, to help with something related to Safrin - not that he needs a reason to respond to the Sword's call. Far above Pipsqueak circles, keeping a sharp eye out for signs of the Warden and his herd. She spots Belial first, trilling a greeting to the peryton and sending updated directions to Koa through their bond. Slinging his pack more securely onto his shoulder, Koa picks up the pace, following the hoofprints left behind by Zuriel as he tracks the meandering path of a one-year-old and his loyal, if slow-moving, court.

Koa

But you can have your way with me Till you go

Deimos

Dare we know the halo's hanging low

There was always much more to Halo than multitudes realized; prejudiced against cold, most rarely meandered outside of the Citadel – and while that was breathtaking, so were all the other parts and pieces. Perhaps the Sword was biased, but he’d readily admit it as they took the Greenwing as a placeholder for games and antics.

Belial heard the joining portions initially – screeching in regards and returns to Pipsqueak, and Deimos turned his head over his shoulder, glancing back to witness the Dragoon arriving. “Thank you for coming,” he rumbled, as Zuriel snorted nearby again, digging into patches of verdant grasses and snagging them by the mouthfuls. Erebos, not to be outdone, extended one mitten laden hand in a practiced wave, happy giggle, and a raucous, but friendly Hi!

The Warden withheld the laughter threatening over, but the impish grin remained. “I trust you had a decent trip?” Entirely, and thankfully, unaware of relationship dramatics, he tilted his head, before adjusting the infant’s hat. “And how are you with snowball fights?"

You won't stay with me, I know

They find them at last, a pastoral picture of unicorn, youth, and guardian king. Depositing his bag onto a dryish patch of grass, Koa pulls his scarf down far enoug to grin up at the Sword. "Anytime!" Koa replies, bright and earnest because yeah, he'll do just about anything his hero asks.

But his attention is quickly stolen by the crown prince of Halo, and Koa kneels down in the grass beside the baby, reaching to shake the mittened hand. "Hi, Erebos! I brought you something!" Digging into an inner coat pocket, he pulls out a little wooden unicorn, its edges rounded and baby-safe, its legs and neck wrapped in sky blue rubber to optimize chewing potential. "My dad made it," he explains, extending the toy for Erebos to take. "Says my sister and I loved the things, when our teeth were coming in. And he said to tell you thanks, for putting up with me." He smiles up at Deimos, the cold air lending a boyish flush to his cheeks.

Rising up from his squatting position, Koa wipes the palms of his gloves against his waterproof pants. "So what's on the docket for today, Warden?" He bounces eagerly on the soles of his shoes, secretly hoping for a chance to show off his new ring.

Koa

But you can have your way with me Till you go

Deimos

Dare we know the halo's hanging low

If he knew he was being revered and perceived as a hero, the Sword would have immediately strived to evade the entire thing – but then his attention was on presents and his son. The youth, who was beyond spoiled in his own home, squealed with delight at the promise of bestowals, immediately turning away from a stick that had been occupying his brief glimmer of attention, hands raised and fingers flexing as if to already grasp. Deimos studied it thoroughly, crouching beside Erebos, as Koa handed it over, and the infant stuck it in his mouth. Sighing and snorting, almost simultaneously, he ruffled and adjusted the toddler’s hat. “Thank you.” To which Erebos remembered his own manners, and did the same ”Ank you!”

Rising back up and shaking his head, he granted another small smile. “Your father is talented and kind.” He made no mention of ‘putting up with’ the Dragoon; those machinations were to come eventually anyway.

As for the intentions – his eyes flickered back to the snow. “I need a way to use my armor protectively, but with unconventional means. Thought a snowball fight would do the trick.” If his grin grew wider, and slightly juvenile and a bit like he was intending to wreak havoc, then perhaps Koa would know what was ahead of him.

You won't stay with me, I know

Talente,, sure,  but Koa has never thought of his father as being particularly kind. Maybe before, in the halcyon days of their nuclear family, but bitterness and time have left watermarks on the pictures in his mind.

Or maybe he hasn't given his father enough credit. Maybe Koa is the one who can't see through the past.

Anyway, that's not a problem for right now. Today is about... snowball fights? Koa's brow raises, his uncertain smile growing bolder as he echoes the Warden's mischief and mirth. "Oookay, yeah, I gotcha. Yeah, I'm in! But I want Erebos on my team," he declares, mischief glittering metallic in his eyes as he begins to formulate ideas and plans.

Koa

But you can have your way with me Till you go

Deimos

Dare we know the halo's hanging low

“No,” Deimos said automatically, maneuvering the armor so it laid on its side and upward, providing potential cover. There’d be no negotiating on any terms for his son’s safety, even if it was just snowballs, he’d be ensuring protection of the youth. Erebos, unbothered, giggled and flung some snow into the air so it landed on top of his hat, then proceeded to sit down behind the glint of leviathan scales, while the Sword built up the snow around it, modifying and amplifying fortifications. The only echoes were absolute glee, the dull thud of a mitten whacking at the defensive means reverberating along the snow.

Perhaps in good humor and jest and some manner of fairness, he snorted. “I can give you Belial.” Who would likely be obnoxious. Zuriel snorted nearby, clearly intending to show she wouldn’t be participating at all. “Best get building,” the Sword advised with a grin, snagging at snow and granting additional provisions.

You won't stay with me, I know

"Aw, c'mon, I bet he's got a great right hook," Koa protests, but there isn't any real fight in it. Deimos' tone holds no room for argument, and far be it from Koa to stand between a legend and his child. Sighing in overdramatic resignation, he turns to Belial and Pipsqueak. "Well, I guess we better get to work." It seems a bit unfair for Deimos to have the protection of both the armor and the baby, but Koa's never been one to turn down a challenge.

Even one he's absolutely fated to lose.

Deciding not to waste any more time, Koa ducks behind a nearby boulder. "Okay, see that tree?" he says to his troops, indicating a trunk about four feet away. "We're gonna build a barrier between it and the rock. Belial, Pip, I want you to gather up any moss or branches you can, and then I'll put them into place. Let's go!" Directions thus given, Koa sets about building up his makeshift defense, grabbing a few longer nearby branches to create a the skeleton of a bulwark and packing whatever the companions bring in with snow to shore it up.

Koa

But you can have your way with me Till you go

Deimos

Dare we know the halo's hanging low

Erebos gurgled with absolute glee in response; though he likely didn’t know what a right hook was. Instead, he summoned his solid toddler transgressions and sidled over by his father’s crouching form, sliding another infant handful of snow upon the Sword’s boots. Snorting, Deimos persisted with the construction; a rapid formation of fortifications surrounding the armor; only pausing momentarily to watch and see if Belial was actually helping with the assembly.

The peryton didn’t often take direction well, but did gaze back at the Dragoon as if he had three heads. He blinked several times, mind striving to process the information and inquiry over someone that was not his bonded, but the creature was always here for chaos. He flew off for a few moments, snagging at things, and returned with some branches, moss, and ningo feathers – either pulled by himself or found.

Thereafter, the Warden peeked his head around his construction, brow arching at the progress nearby. “Let me know when you are ready.”

You won't stay with me, I know

Koa's absolute ignorance of Belial's nature and absolute confidence in his ability to wrangle the companions into something resembling a team is, shockingly, rewarded. Probably not great for his already inflated ego, but it's too fucking late now: he's a Companion Whisperer, whatever else comes of today.

The blockade the three of them construct is... well, it's technically sound, Koa's early exposure to engineering giving him the knowledge to make a solid-ish foundation. He directs the companions with infectious enthusiasm, focused in as well as his ADHD allows on getting something passable built up. The end result is a makeshift wall of branches and moss and snow and gods know what else that won't withstand a full invasion, but is significant enough for Koa and Pip to huddle behind.

Belial, you get the tree.

Pipsqueak has been stockpiling snowballs, and they have a decent collection going when Deimos calls for readiness. "One sec!" he calls, then ducks down to confer with his teammates. "Okay lads - here's the plan. Pip, sneak around behind and try to melt their snowballs. Belial, you head up into the trees and try to kick snow down onto them.

"And I," he says, turning back to their barrier with a hungry, competitive grin. "Will do what I do best, and maintain my crown as Snowball King of Stormbreak. GO!" The last word is shouted, and he can only hope his companions are following directions as he takes the first snowball into a gloved hand, hurtling it toward Deimos' barrier before ducking back down.

Koa

But you can have your way with me Till you go

Deimos

Dare we know the halo's hanging low

Belial looked back and forth, from Pip, to Koa, and then back to where Deimos and Erebos were in the midst of construction (the latter far less, squealing and giggling and now rolling in the snow). He might’ve even looked as though he was paying attention to directions, wings unfurling and soaring directly towards the trees. Landing in a large bough though, he became immediately distracted by a nest of eggs, hooting with glee.

The Sword only needed to hear the first clamor of go to hunker down below the armor and fortifications protective layer. Carefully hovering over Erebos, who had once again laughed with all his might as he utilized this opportunity for kicking particles of snow everywhere, Deimos listened as the first snowball plunked directly into the armor. The leviathan scales took it quite well, and then he hastened his own, fully intending to launch it over Koa’s provisions, and send it sprawling upon the Dragoon. A test – before he calculated other things.

You won't stay with me, I know

Aaaand now they're down to two.

Koa should have known better than to trust a companion, he's had Pip for long enough. But as the Peryton takes off into the trees the Dragoon feels quite pleased with his plans. Without any real way to communicate he has no way of knowing that the flying deer has fucked off to his own devices, which means that unfortunately he's going to be waiting for some time for his aerial ploy to pay off.

The sound of his snowball hitting armor is frustrating, but not entirely unexpected. Deimos' return volley is swift and expected; the sphere glides past the barricades, but Koa ducks and moves quickly enough for it to land beside him, leaving the boy unscathed. Grinning fiercely at Pipsqueak, Koa gathers up two more snowballs and pops out from behind his shield, yeeting them toward the General and his infant in hopes of sending them over the edge of the scale.

Koa

But you can have your way with me Till you go

Deimos

Dare we know the halo's hanging low

What Belial was up to was anyone’s guess, save for himself, and Deimos’ reading of mutual minds. They could likely all hear him overhead, divebombing at the trees, and crunching down on ningo eggs, loudly and obnoxiously, but as far as intentions behind snowball fights, that would remain to be seen after his meal.

Erebos continued to giggle with glee, finding the whole multitude wildly entertaining, and threw his own miniature handful of snow. It didn’t go anywhere except inside their fortification (straight into the ground), but the Warden appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

Ducking downward as he heard another hit the scaled armor, the defenses held – though another went sailing over, managing to land near his boot. He’d clearly gone too easy on the Dragoon, and mashed together a larger snowball, appearing only briefly to hurl it towards Koa’s fleet – intending to either hit the makeshift stronghold, or the individual.

You won't stay with me, I know

Koa isn't wasting time: as soon as his double volley is thrown he's snatching up another ball, Pipsqueak chirping as she works hard to continue manufacturing ammunition. Accustomed to being the older and more experienced of his opponents (aka Kaisel and Noe), he's over time built up a solid strategy of hitting hard and fast to overwhelm and maintain superiority.

That's not going to work here.

He's mistimed the next throw, popped up too early, and while the ponderous weight of Deimos's snowball means it doesn't quite clear the barricade, it does hit with a enough pressure to send a cloud of powder flying into Koa's face. He gasps and sputters as the chill crystals graze his cheeks, melting swiftly into frigid rivulets that threaten to sneak their way underneath his scarf. He still manages to throw his snowball, but he's realizing he'll have to up his game if he wants to stand a chance against the Warden.

Koa

But you can have your way with me Till you go