they all know your name

Liam

And I feel like my castle's crumbling down
And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground

Liam had not spent much time in Halo, but after so long spent in the Greatwood, he'd grown accustomed to both finding his way around and being comfortable with getting lost. The only downside here was the cold. True, it wasn't frigid - the height of summer, he supposed, was the best time to visit the tundra - but it was much cooler than he was accustomed to, and he dressed accordingly. It marked him as a visitor, to be sure, but he'd never much minded being an outsider.

In any case, he was here on a singular mission: to find Deimos and deliver a very important parcel, courtesy of Maea and himself. From the way the Ancient had spoken, it sounded like her greetings might not be well-received, but he would deal with that as it came. For now, it was enough simply to find Deimos, find a safe place to hand over the rose that he carried in a box tucked carefully in a satchel over his shoulder, and go home.

They'd agreed upon a meeting place, and Liam entered the Kraai with a few minutes to spare. Finding a tucked-away booth, he took a seat and waited.

And you don't want to know me, I will just let you down
You don't wanna know me now

where I save you and you save me

Deimos hadn’t frequented the Kraai in some time; there was always an amount of work, responsibilities, or ventures to address well before spending moments at a bar. But it meant entering the confines was met with greeting mannerisms from others, heads nodding in his direction or polite waves, knowing he was likely there to conduct business, rather than drinking the stresses and strains away.

His eyes pinpointed upon the individual he sought regardless, threading through several other patrons before making his way over to the Dragoon’s booth. “Liam,” he greeted with his residual, deep rumble, sliding into the other side and taking a long breath. The curiosity struck him plainly, always had, coiling and contorting through his mind as to the vagueness of the letter. “Hope your travels were smooth.”

Deimos

and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly

Liam

And I feel like my castle's crumbling down
And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground

His name cut through the noise, and Liam looked up to find Deimos sliding into the seat across from him. The ex-soldier straightened slightly in his chair, nodding respectfully. ”Yes, they were, thank you. I trust you’ve been well?” It was as much small talk as he could stand; his package, tucked away in a satchel sitting beside him, made him nervous. What if someone tried to take it before he could deliver it safely? Once it was with Deimos, it was no longer his responsibility, and he could go back to hunting for more.

”I hope you’ll forgive me for jumping right to the point. Maea Valair and I recently found a rather unique flower in the Greatwood,” he said after pleasantries had been exchanged. ”I understand that you’ve been doing some gardening, and we thought that it might be of more use in your hands than in ours.” He picked up a box from his satchel, sliding it across the table. Inside, a plucked Vi’s Rose was safely tucked away. ”I understand that there might be some… tension between Maea and yourself, but she wished to send her regards to you and your family.”

—-

Liam has given Deimos a Vi’s Rose!

Type: Light | Style: Other | Level: Basic
Vi's Roses (rare): A beautiful crimson flower with thorns of deep gold, it is rumoured that these roses are coloured with Vi's lifeblood. When planted, they have the ability to cleanse the area around them.

And you don't want to know me, I will just let you down
You don't wanna know me now

where I save you and you save me

“Busy,” he surmised with a quick grin – between Starfall business, regional quests, and two of his own, there’d been brief moments throughout the recent days where he could acquire much downtime. Even this venture had been scheduled into his day.

He could appreciate Liam’s quick assertions and bluntness though – eyes widening slightly as the notions came to fruition. Another rose, found and snagged within the Greatwood once more, like some kismet and fortunate portion across their confounding and restless world. “Thank you. This will hopefully be another way to put the gardening aspects into our favor,” and he cautiously, carefully, took the box into his grasp, checking the contents briefly to ascertain it was exactly that, and heaved a long, long sigh.

Though he didn’t expect the next set of words, and his brows furrowed slightly. Maea’s name did conjure a very tense and irritated atmosphere in his family, for a litany of reasons, but most relegated to her foolish behavior threatening the very livelihood of multiple leaders of several regions, and then down to his own son. Her regards weren’t taken with much more than a nod of his head, wondering if she was trying to placate and utilize the bloom to her amass her own fortune. Placing that aside for future thoughts, he tilted his head, recalling prior conversations with Elizabeth and not wanting to muddle up the pieces again, another deep rumble persisted. “Did you want anything in return?”

Deimos

and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly

Liam

And I feel like my castle's crumbling down
And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground

Liam was not the most observant of men, but even he did not miss the slight furrow of Deimos's brow - perhaps in part because he'd been looking for it, for some sign that the woman he'd come to know was not, perhaps, the woman she'd once been. It still confused him, if he was being honest, that she'd managed to make so many enemies - and such important ones, at that. But the Sword's reaction at least solidified in Liam's mind that Maea was, in fact, not on good terms with at least one region's leader.

Good to know.

Letting it go, for he had no way to remedy the situation for her - and nor would she want him to, even if he could - it was his turn to furrow his brow as Deimos asked if he wanted anything in return. "No, of course not," he said. "Just for it to be used well." He offered a lopsided smile. "I'd offer my own services, but I'm not sure how useful I'd be at present." Unfortunate, really, but his own fault since sequestering himself away all those seasons ago.

Although, that did remind him. "Oh - I don't suppose you could point me towards a smithy? I need to have a sword made while I'm here. There are... not many options in the Greatwood, so I'm trying to take advantage of being in civilization."

And you don't want to know me, I will just let you down
You don't wanna know me now

where I save you and you save me

Nothing in return made him quirk his brow again, but he said nothing, alluding to naughty through the folds of Maea debacles nor Liam’s selfless contribution to the cause. A brief smile conjured thereafter though. “Searching for the flowers is enough – gives the gardeners supplies and opportunity,” he presided, for it was true. Between all his other responsibilities, the Sword rarely had the chance to go searching for such blooms on his own, and his energy was spent amidst Halo and everything it required, and then Starfall thereafter, to try and alter the tides.

As for the other notions, his head tilted, mind already calculating. “Certainly. Though I could always make one for you as well.” Easily rendered and done, depending on Liam’s specifications. “We can head outside, if you want?” More room and space, and he could point out alternative means if his abilities weren’t something rendered. “I need to grab something for Remi anyway.”

Deimos

and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly

Liam

And I feel like my castle's crumbling down
And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground

”I will reach out if I find anything else of interest,” Liam promised, offering a small smile in return. Deimos knew, no doubt, how unlikely it was that Liam would find another rose - but they could hope for luck, all the same. ”In the meantime, if there is anything else I can do…” He might not be much help in a fight because I suck at leveling and questing, but if there was something else to be done, he would do it gladly.

As for the sword he hoped to craft, Liam blinked with surprise at the offer. ”If it’s not too much trouble,” he said. ”I’m working on a quest for Frey. I brought all the materials - iron, and an emerald to set into the pommel, and such - so I’m hoping that it won’t be a complicated task.” Even if it wasn’t complicated, though, he knew it would take skill beyond his own meager swordsmithing ability. ”I’ll follow you,” he agreed, rising when Deimos did and waiting to follow the other man’s lead.

And you don't want to know me, I will just let you down
You don't wanna know me now

where I save you and you save me

The Sword thought it fortunate they’d found any at all, much less the amount that had come in over the last few seasons. Enough to ensure they could infiltrate Starfall, at the very least, and then if any extra became known, they had some way to ensure those sick were cured, or placing multitudes in other infected and infested lands. “I will let you know if I hear of anything else,” he nodded, leading them out of the Kraai and amidst the Citadel’s finery, head already tilting and eyes narrowing for something specific.

The notions of the sword crafting didn’t sound terribly difficult. “Do you have a design in mind?” He didn’t know Liam well enough to ascertain the pragmatics, necessities, or any flourishes to place amidst the blade – if any at all – and he wouldn’t want to insult the man by making something plain and every day.

Finally spotting something he recognized, his strides swept along the side streets until he came upon a cluster of snow-arranged sculptures. “Need some memory snow,” Deimos mentioned casually, before breaking off a piece of a snowman’s arm, figuring no one would quite mind, and watching it for casually back from his hands – snorting and plucking a canister out of his bag.

Deimos

and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly

Liam

And I feel like my castle's crumbling down
And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground

Sword design wasn't really Liam's strong point, so he shook his head. "I don't need anything fancy," he said. "It just has to be decorated with dream bird feathers. As for the rest... as long as it's sharp, I'm not picky." He envisioned a simple blade with an emerald set into the pommel, a leather-wrapped hilt, and as for the feathers... well, he'd leave that up to Deimos. The best he could come up with was some kind of attachment to the hilt, perhaps like a charm of sorts.

Liam followed along, bag slung over his shoulder, as Deimos paused to collect some memory snow. The soldier watched curiously as the Sword broke off a snowman's arm. Hopefully, no one would mind - someone had put a lot of effort in to craft the snowman, Liam was sure, but it didn't seem like his place to protest its treatment.

And you don't want to know me, I will just let you down
You don't wanna know me now

where I save you and you save me

Deimos always figured if someone wanted an item, it had to carry some amount of sentimentality – or at the very least, like it beyond its practicality and purpose. Perhaps, through the creation incantations, he’d merely found another way to harbor machinations spun into designs and art. Shrugging his shoudlers, but nodding at the insinuations, he finished putting the memory snow into the cannister, before contorting a matching one through Water enchantments, and placing it back on the snowman, as if it had never been missing in the first place.

Turning back to the Dragoon, and stuffing the vessel back into his bag, he considered some options in his mind, and applied them to parchment and charcoal rapidly appearing in his hand. He drew several that applied: some shorter or broader than the others, but each with unique processions when it came to the emerald in the pommel, the leather embossed hilt, and the dream bird feathers dangling in various accoutrements and arrays.

Thereafter, he passed the works and blueprints over to Liam for inspection and perusal. “Any of those work for you?”

Deimos

and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly

Liam

And I feel like my castle's crumbling down
And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground

Much to Liam's surprise, Deimos replaced the snow that he had taken, calling upon water magic that the soldier hadn't known he possessed to make it look as though nothing had been changed at all. The soldier imagined that whoever had crafted the snowman would hardly know the difference. Liam certainly couldn't tell.

It didn't take long for Deimos to sketch a few options for Liam, all of varying proportions and designs, and the soldier took the offered parchment to look them over. Aspects of each caught his eye, but after a moment, he pointed to a longsword with dream bird feathers winged along the hilt. "This one, if it's not too much trouble." Though, seeing how easily the man had produced the snowman's missing arm, he doubted that it would be much trouble at all.

And you don't want to know me, I will just let you down
You don't wanna know me now

where I save you and you save me

He waited, composed and patient, while Liam considered the options. Each of them represented similarities and differences, but it would ultimately it’d be up to the Accepted on which he favored and preferred. Eventually, one seemed to be the winner over all the others, and Deimos’ gaze flickered back to the design, nodding. “Of course.”

He stepped back to clear space and grant room for the incoming longsword – sliding his hands away from one another as they glowed in gilded prowess, and the details and fragments began to come together. Straight from the image on paper, and in his mind, the blade conformed to the creation magic’s control and contorting, until it finalized into a brilliant sheen and silver – the emerald at the pommel, the space for eventual feathers to linger and be displayed upon the hilt.

Thereafter, he surveyed it, glancing over to ensure there were no lingering defects or ineffectual portions, before passing it over. “Decent enough?”

Deimos

and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly

Liam

And I feel like my castle's crumbling down
And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground

Liam waited in a curious silence, watching as Deimos took the items he'd procured and used them to form a sword seemingly out of thin air. Of course, there was more to it than that, Liam was sure - Deimos had to know what to make, and how to shape it, and keep in mind things like straightness and balance and all sorts of things of which Liam had only rudimentary knowledge. As a dragoon, he'd learned early on in his training how to smith a basic practice sword, but that had been years ago, and most of his memories were now lost to time.

Once Deimos had finished his inspection of the sword, it was Liam's turn; he accepted it with a word of thanks, then looked it over with a keen eye. He may not be able to make something like this, but he could certainly tell when a sword was well made - and this one was. Testing the balance, he found it to be perfect; holding it in his hand, he decided that it fit him like it was made for him. Which, of course, it was.

"It's perfect," he said after a few moments. "Thank you."

And you don't want to know me, I will just let you down
You don't wanna know me now

where I save you and you save me

His brow arched, awaiting either approval or discontent from the Dragoon. It hadn’t been the first, nor the last he suspected, sword he’d ever constructed or made; well versed and used to the feel of a blade from childhood practice to now, and he’d managed to craft and create multitudes for either friends or the barracks armory.

So when the notes of perfection waned through, he smiled, nodding his head. “Good. May it bring you some protection.” And for whatever else he deemed necessary. Pausing, because he wasn’t certain of other portions or credentials (just his own long list of necessities, and now with the flower procured…more advances upon Starfall semblances). “Thank you again for the rose. Do you need anything else?”

Deimos

and we save each other over and over, a hundred times, endlessly