[SE] [Training] place our wagers

DEIMOS

what tried to destroy you
didn't have the strength

Deimos had hunted here once, amidst the Metacarpal, helped wretch some portions apart with others while the void lurched and leered. It wasn’t any less carnivorous now, he reckoned, save for the less infested contortions and purplish hues, but he had no intentions of throwing himself into the arms and eaves of crimson roots today – staying along the shoreline, utilizing the closeness and backdrop to peer across towards Starfall.

Inviting Sunjata over was a means to an end as well – to plot and scheme and toil away on the coast – figuring they could at least impart what had been accomplished in the past few seasons, and the intentions behind impending maneuvers. Especially when they hadn’t been summoned to this next portion – but aware that whenever the moments were right, it’d be happening regardless.

A seemingly unending cycle – paths to follow, beasts to slay, and worlds to protect. And despite knowing the lines drawn, it never did make it any easier.

So he stood amongst the shoal and sand, away from the lined borders of thrashing or silent plant life, going through portions of his bag, checking over conditions on certain objects. Senses attuned, at the ready, always blending through his Attuned measures, would ascertain anything arriving.

still you stand
sturdy and smelling of smoke

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

This was one of those places that Sunjata had avoided – not on purpose, but since the war happened and he no longer spent a good portion of time in Torchline, he’d focused on King’s End instead. The Metacarpal Island seemed on the last of his list of places to go and investigate. So when he gets the invitation, he’s certainly willing to make time for it – unsure what to expect, but coming prepared regardless.

It's a blue macaw that flits over the water, forgoing any boat to get here, landing on the sandy beach with a flare through the Attuned bond to Deimos who he sees standing like a stalwart statue amongst the sand. Bird becomes man, a nod of greeting over toward Deimos. “Hey.” Flashing a crooked smile, he takes in the lusher space and their series of many bones littered about. Nose wrinkling slightly, he pulls his attention away from it to look at Deimos again.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

DEIMOS

what tried to destroy you
didn't have the strength

His gaze went towards the bird, unnatural hues for this portion of the isle, and snorted to himself, an inward amusement that lasted scarce seconds before the shift unfurled Sunjata. “Hey,” he echoed in response, stretching out his legs from where he’d settled upon a rock. Glancing back over the Metacarpal expanse behind them, he shrugged his shoulders. “Leaves a lot to be desired, but I figured no one would be out here.” Less eyes. Less Vox conspiracies. Less Family, now that Torchline was guarded from most of them.

Rising from the stone, he gave some silent considerations, filling in portions where letters hadn’t sufficed. I made some gas masks and gave them to Sah, for whoever is going next. Presumably Noah, Hadama, and the Wild Thunder, unaware of the last. Supposed to help with seeing through environmental effects to around five feet and he could improve them further, this season, when he had the opportunity. “I was hoping to train with my air magic,” and he inclined his jaw towards the wide stretch of dunes and sand banks. I am upgrading it – you may want to do the same with some of yours. Knowing the inevitable approached again, that time would always be of the essence.

still you stand
sturdy and smelling of smoke

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

An accented huff of a laugh leaves Sunjata as he nods, taking in the island with a slight wrinkle of his nose before his attention flits back to the Sword. “I’d say it’s an acquired taste.” He admits, shrugging his shoulders slightly to loosen them, trying to do a gentle warm up as he hears Deimos through the attuned bond. That’s a good idea. He murmurs, recalling the gas that had fucked them up the last time and bypassing it lest the warm air that Longheat at Torchline make his eyes water from the memory.

“I’ll never say no to practicing mine.” He offers with a playful twist of his lips – not that he had air magic, but his water magic could be beneficial. “Or I could try out one of my new shifts. Haven’t given it a lot of use.” He admits after a moment of thinking. Leaving it open for Deimos to choose which he’d prefer, the additional note in the attuned bond grants a nod of his head. I really should. I’ll reach out to Frey. He agrees.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

DEIMOS

what tried to destroy you
didn't have the strength

Nodding in assent of the notions and ideas clambering together, he waited for anything else to flicker through the Attuned bond; though with the accord and agreement of more improvements to abilities, it seemed there was naught much more to add. “I could try using my air on one of your shifts,” and he shrugged, leaving that notion up to Sunjata on which one would be most effective. The Sword certainly wouldn’t be lifting and launching any dragons – but he could stall and irritate, or misdirect a bird, or something else. “Whatever you think will have the most benefit.” Because at the end of the day, they were there to refine, enhance, and advance their abilities – all in the hopes they’d be useful for the pending, noxious future.

still you stand
sturdy and smelling of smoke

i am on a journey to discover what it's like to be free of all my demons

“Yeah, we can do that.” Sunjata agrees, because while he’d only used his magic on Starfall, perhaps it would benefit them both to utilize it on a relatively large shift - one that would mimic what they were facing and perhaps give Sunjata a better idea of what the creatures might respond like when faced with the fight. And maybe he’d get to learn just what the shift did, since he hadn’t figured out just yet what it meant.

Stepping away from Deimos, he walks down the warm beach until he thinks it’s enough distance. And while at first it might seem like he’s shifted into his dragon shift, the Flood unfurls without wings and with three heads peering down at Deimos, each mouth snapping sharp teeth. He readies himself, and with a moment of pause as if for a countdown, the Flood lashes out with the center head toward Deimos while the others play defense.

SUNJATA

DEIMOS

what tried to destroy you
didn't have the strength

Patient to a fault, he waited – though not expecting the image unfurling before him. Maybe he should have, given the qualities of dragon multitudes he’d seen time and time again with the Flood – but not one with three heads, as opposed to all the other factions.

He tucked away a deep, long sigh, remembering the quest required air magic, and to not immediately yield to something bolder and stronger simply because of the shock value. Nodding, his eyes narrowed, and he took several strides to the left, striving to keep out of range of the snapping teeth – and releasing a lash of potent air, intending to swing out much like a sword or a lash. It’d been a swift calculation, to see and gauge the results without being too ferocious or malicious – batting at the potential.

still you stand
sturdy and smelling of smoke

i am on a journey to discover what it's like to be free of all my demons

He’s hardly ever used this shift before – and it’s terribly obvious. Moving three heads was far more of a challenge than moving just one, so when Deimos begins to move and the air is shot out of him like a blade, Sunjata tries to evade it. But he’s slow, too slow. Half of him makes it out of the way, with only the far left head abandoned for the moment in the response it takes to withdraw his other heads after snapping at empty sand.

The air hits the far left head, striking through the scales like they’re butter, cutting the head deep enough that a growl of pain bursts out of him from the two other heads, teeth gnashing together. Blood oozes from the open wound, but it isn’t that which is so much of a surprise as it is the thud that occurs as the third head falls to the sand. Unexpected, of course, but in lieu of it the stump that swings uselessly for the moment recovers, where two more shoot out with gnashing teeth. And where Sunjata had originally started with three heads full of sharp teeth and eyes, suddenly there are four, recoiling from the pain and drying blood to lash out again.

It's still training, though, and at least he knows what the fuck this shift does, so he dives in with all four heads this time, trying to trip Deimos up in varying points of escape.

SUNJATA

DEIMOS

what tried to destroy you
didn't have the strength

What should’ve been something normal became anything but. Deimos’ expectations had been one of mere blood or consternation, not the sudden slashing of a head, and then two more popping up from the empty portions.

So he couldn’t help it – he laughed.

The rumbling fixtures contorted through his ribcage as he soared upwards, half-shift of thunderbird wings extending and alighting him into the air, out of the way of the roaring and rampaging four heads now. “You look like something we would normally try to slay,” he assured, withholding another snort pulsing through. Maybe it was all the madness of everything else they’d ever encountered – because now he was strategizing rather than opening into trepidations and apprehensions. Normal cold-blooded calculations. Machinations whirling, exalted and ready.

Like not hitting at the heads any longer.

Instead, he flew rapidly towards the left, pinning his lashing and potent Mastered Air towards the hydra’s chest, and watching for multiple sets of teeth.

still you stand
sturdy and smelling of smoke

i am on a journey to discover what it's like to be free of all my demons

The pain in his neck subsides substantially, enough that when Deimos laughs, Sunjata can’t help the accented one that flares faintly from the attuned bond from this distance. If he’s being honest, he doesn’t even know if he’s ever heard Deimos laugh. But he takes it in stride, now with four points of view to lunge at the Sword.

And lunge he does, sinking low above the sand as Deimos rises with wings of his thunderbird shift, and it leaves Sunjata scrambling to withdraw. Four heads return, each with snapping jaws. That’s why I thought it might be a good test. Sunjata touts a little proudly, a playful but pleased sensation blooming through the attuned bond, even as he uses two of the heads to block the air as it aims for his chest, smacking against the sides of the neck of the two heads and leaving a bit of a gust to collide with his chest. But it also allocates for two other heads to chase after Deimos in the air.

SUNJATA

DEIMOS

what tried to destroy you
didn't have the strength

Despite the amusements playing through, Deimos still studied and evaluated the situation. With three additional heads, Sunjata would have more defensive means and measures, evident by the way he easily blocked the next round of air. Contemplating speed, range, and other potentials, the Sword flew onward, intending to make more predictions and estimations. Might as well see what else could occur, in a safer confine. No lightning rods here.

His movements were swift, quick, and purposeful; intending to dive towards the outer edges of the Flood’s spine, seeing how far or fast the heads could all incline. From there, the tactics were far simpler, extending a fist in an air-embedded punch, combining the elements and incantations into the movements.

still you stand
sturdy and smelling of smoke

i am on a journey to discover what it's like to be free of all my demons

It’s a smart move, because as he starts to recover from blocking the air at his chest with two of the hydra’s heads, the size in comparison to the amount of heads he now has to juggle, he tries to focus on not tangling them up as he swivels around, trying to pinpoint Deimos with eight sets of eyes, all getting a different view of the man with his thunderbird wings.

It’s too late, though, because they swivel and he steps to the side, directly into the air punch aimed his way, rattling against his spine with a hiss and a laugh through the attuned bond. A second later, his teeth snap into the air in warning, swinging around to try and take Deimos out of the air with a smack from the fourth head’s neck.

SUNJATA

DEIMOS

what tried to destroy you
didn't have the strength

He had to wonder about the weight of control over all those maneuvering pieces. It couldn’t be easy, and while some might react with impulse and muscle memory, there was still accounting for movement that might not be as rapid or fluid. Would it be compromised further if there were more, or just an impounded headache?

Deimos wasn’t inclined to find out at this venture, but he’d leave it as food for thought at the back of his mind. Instead, he flew higher, striving to get out of range of snapping teeth and heeding the necessary warnings. Opting to see how far Sunjata could stretch those multiple fixtures, he continued to climb amidst the sky, before rallying another Air volley towards the hydra’s ribcage.

still you stand
sturdy and smelling of smoke

i am on a journey to discover what it's like to be free of all my demons

It’s an absolute challenge, and Sunjata is clunky but determined as he swings the heads around to block and attack simultaneously. The shift makes it easier to get a few more insights of sight, and perhaps last bout on Starfall he’d thought about utilizing it, but the tunnels had been to unstable, too unsteady for a shift this large. Perhaps next time — because there always would be a next time — the Flood might be able to give it a go.

For now, though, Deimos is the sole attacker on an open beach, the scent of salt and the sound of rushing waves and flaps of wings, the echo of the snap of his sharp jaws. Deimos flies higher out of reach and two of the hydra’s heads chase after him, the other two fanning out for the next attack. He’s spread thin, though, the air nailing him in the chest with a huff of a growl from the hydra but a bark of laughter as he wobbles form having been hit and stretching his necks out, creating a problem with his balance.

A laugh races through the attuned bond as the hydra settles, heads making a cage to protect his chest with enough room to move along the sides in case Deimos decided to attack elsewhere, or if it was deemed to be enough training for the day. Either way, it was very helpful.

SUNJATA