half-sliced pines

cover you when the sky comes crashing in

The Sword kept himself anchored amongst the snow towards the turn of the season; not unlike wolves in a territory, circling back and forth. With Evie coming closer towards impending due dates, not much would pull him away, but lest he be accused of hovering, he remained busy – content to continue with patrols, tend to the soldiers, and glare at the pile of paperwork offensively taking up his morning.

So he opted to tackle said parchments along the front porch of his home, warm tea on the table with its plumes; Belial comfortably settled upon the other seat, and charcoal in hand. One by one he addressed the containments with either a roll of his eyes or a flattened expression, heavy sighs, a wrinkle to his nose, occasionally checking the angle of the sun to see if enough time had passed to warrant a break from the scores of letters.

After fifteen minutes he did award himself a distraction – minor though it might’ve been and probably not wholly necessary given his need for stockpiling and overpreparation. But before long he’d sketched out something along the side of a blank sheet of paper, and the gilded glow of his hands began to form an outline, creation incantations detailing, bringing the image from mind to paper and back to enchantments to life.

DEIMOS

// disarm you with a smile //

While Deimos keeps himself close with the impending news that would likely filter through the rest of Halo once it’s occurred, Glas has not aimed to venture out further than here at the best of times. As such, he drifts on through the town with a leather bag strapped over his back with what appears to be a scroll carrier within it. It’s a satchel for blueprints, mostly, ones that he’s bringing at the present moment to the Warden for a final approval.

It’s to give one of the shops a bit of a facelift, some adjustments made to the front structure that he doesn’t want to go through with without Deimos’ approval, and as such it draws him toward the office where the Warden sits with plenty of paperwork to keep him occupied. And Glas, upon seeing it, doesn’t want to interrupt – hovering on the outside of where he’s been directed, at least until he sees the familiar gleam of glowing hands and a creation taking form.

That’s what breaks him through the stupor he’s found himself in, stepping in with his eyes glued to the item being made in quiet awe and inspiration. “Hi, Mr. Ignatius, sir.” He says, distracted enough by the magic that the stutter doesn’t slip out just yet.

Glas

// and leave you like they left me here //

cover you when the sky comes crashing in

Intent and focused on his task, he could hear someone approaching, but figured it was the usual dominion of a passersby. So he didn’t look up immediately, and instead traced his magics over the foundation, then the remaining proportions, of matching ursur, luxere, and frost fox plushies, all arranged in a neat row. Different colors to correspond and ensure neither of them were the same as Erebos’ – no need to get them mixed up and he was certain his son wouldn’t be akin to sharing all of his things just yet – and when he’d finished upon a glowing aspect of the deer antlers, he glanced over to find Glas nearby – name pinpointed on him.

“You can call me Deimos, Glas,” he assured with a tilt of his head and a small smile; the Mr. Ignatius proportions sounded like his father, and he wasn’t about to drift down those lanes. Though he didn’t see the crafter out and about too often, there was still a steady stream of respect and quiet platitude extended to the younger man; knowing all too well what it meant to be far more likely to linger within than outwards. In the Warden’s case, however, he didn’t have much of a choice. He’d grant pleasantries regardless, maneuvering the set of stuffed creatures to start on another one. “How are you?”

DEIMOS

// disarm you with a smile //

The little stuffed animals come to life, plush and vibrant and a variety of colors that are just as adorable and lovely as Glas could have imagined them to be that it’s extremely distracting even as Deimos registers his approach and reassures him that he doesn’t need to be as formal. It’s something that had been ingrained in him from his parents, and despite them not being here anymore it was still quite a hard habit to break.

So he offers the Warden a bright smile, brighter, perhaps, because he knows the second he tries to say his name the stutter will come back. As for how he is, well, he can’t avoid it when he answers, stepping into the office space and to the side so as to not interrupt what Deimos is currently working on. “I’m.. good. Things are good.” It feels like it’s his turn to assure Deimos. “H-how are you?” He asks back, wanting to extend the politeness even as he swings the satchel of blueprints toward his front and hesitates opening it up until Deimos is finished answering.

Glas

// and leave you like they left me here //

cover you when the sky comes crashing in

Head tilting again, he watched Glas with a stoic, quiet gaze; only briefly assessing, knowing the crafter wouldn’t care to be scrutinized, and that arriving here, of all places, was likely a difficult experience. Taking the answer for what it was worth though, he nodded, eyes flickering briefly to the satchel swung forwards, brow arching with careful curiosity. He won’t be prodding and prying; Glas wasn’t the type to render well into his nosier aspects.

So he’d take the measures instead – unfurling another plush within his hands once he’d realized he’d forgotten the peryton (Belial would’ve been thoroughly displeased). “I am well. Evie is due towards the end of this season so - ,” hence the large variety of stuffed animals besides the amount of paperwork not yet finished. And the impending amount of things necessary around the crib and nursery. “I am overpreparing.” Pausing, he granted another light smile. "Erebos said he was going to write to you."

DEIMOS

// disarm you with a smile //

Always grateful to not be rushed, Glas takes his time to work at the satchel with the blueprints, his sea green gaze lifting to watch instead as Deimos creates another adorable little plush of his peryton companion before his very eyes. “C-Congratulations.” Glas says, offering a small and lopsided smile before he ducks his head slightly with a small note of agreement. “He felt b-bad the letter wasn’t for me.” He says it like that’s the excuse, but there’s something glinting in his gaze that seems to suggest that Glas doesn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, he looks forward to it. “He’s really nice.”

He supposes it’s probably time to show the Warden what he’s been working on, but he’s patient and waits until it’s not an inconvenience before he’s unfurling the parchment with the designs on it. “Uhm, so, one of th-the shops wants t-t-to fix the outside trims and structure of their shop. But they’re connected t-to the shop next to them… so.. This is the thought I had and I wanted t-to make sure it was okay with y-you before… Y'know..” He trails off, deciding to show Deimos rather than explain while his stutter got in the way.

The view has the sketches of the original and how it meshed with each shop behind it, the newer one has it sticking out a bit more, bolder and broader trims and faschias that make it blend less with the surrounding stores, but still looks like quite the lovely facelift.

Glas

// and leave you like they left me here //

cover you when the sky comes crashing in

“Thank you,” he offered in return with a nod, beginning to stretch the incantations again as they formed another plush – though this time in the shape of a unicorn. Deimos had already heard Erebos’ side of things – it wasn’t difficult, given the child’s love of talking – but the Sword was relieved to hear his son hadn’t been a thorn in the crafter’s side either; it would’ve been difficult for him to have recognized if he was being overbearing or too much. “I am hoping he stays that way, but let me know if he is overwhelming.” he winked. “Last I saw he was making you a picture as well.” But that’d be left under wraps until it was delivered, not wanting to spoil any other surprise.

Besides, there seemed to be something Glas had been hoping to show, and he maneuvered the assemblage of stuffed animals aside until they seemed to form a neat, audience line, granting the fellow Abandoned to utilize the rest of the table space. Tilting his head and listening to the explanation, he studied the blueprints, eyes tracking and following the neat lines and sketches of structures, trims, and connections. “I think these look good. Have you checked in with the other merchants as well?” If everyone approved of the facelift, he didn’t see why it wouldn’t become a proper project.

DEIMOS

// disarm you with a smile //

A nod that’s the equivalent to a you’re welcome without vocalizing it with the smile paired on his face should suffice. And as the subject switches to Erebos and the letters sent, the crafter grows a bit softer, letting a soft laugh leave him perhaps for the first time in a long while. “Yeah.. I will.” He promises. He doubts it’ll happen, content with the way that Erebos tended to fill the silence with whatever came to mind as children did. It meant he didn’t have to talk as much himself.

Letters were easier, though. Something Glas can do without help. And pictures? Being a crafter meant he often doodled and drew varying designs. So it was easy to switch that up too and offer his own drawings in return. “I’m excited t-to see it.” He offers, smiling a little wider before he’s fumbling around to show Deimos the design.

Relieved to hear that he thinks they look good, he sinks back on his heels and his hands wrap behind his back. “Yes.” He pauses, taking a breath to steady himself. “The one it’s att-attached to is okay with it. The other one is slightly worried it will lose them some viewability. I was.. thinking maybe of helping them out with m-more signage to m-make it better.” The other merchant hadn’t been opposed, but hadn’t come up with the funds yet for his own full facelift. And Glas? Well, all he wanted to do was help, whether or not it meant he got paid for it. Hence the idea of the signage.

As such, though, he’s already doodled that out too and as he slides the blueprint off, it reveals a beautiful schematic of a new sign for the shop next door with fresh paint and made of wood to give it a brighter appearance than it had currently.

Glas

// and leave you like they left me here //

cover you when the sky comes crashing in

He gave another small smile at the notions of Glas being excited to see said letter and picture; though Deimos figured it likely depended on the results of Erebos’ patience. They’d see it through though; promises were promises, and he had some confidence the youth could stick to his desired task.

But then he was listening to the fellow crafter on other schematics and potentials, nodding along. There was always a careful balance when it came to pleasing fellow shop owners, neighbors, and regions alike; and it seemed Glas had put thought into those sentiments as well. Before he had an opportunity to ask, the next scroll of blueprints unfurled, and Deimos titled his head, studying the sign’s designations with a steady eye and discerning eye. “Seems like a fair idea. I can help you make the sign too.” It would be faster, quicker, swifter with creation incantations behind it; plus Glas would be able to entertain the notion immediately to his constituents. If it didn’t work out, then the compatriot still had a free mode of advertising.

DEIMOS

// disarm you with a smile //

Even if it didn’t come to fruition, Glas wasn’t one to make a fuss about it. Simply having an option to reach out and have someone to talk to on occasion was enough – after all, Glas never really had friends. Too set in his own ways to be adventurous and outgoing as he’d noticed many of the people in Halo his age were. So sending letters was easier, and writing had always been a favorite way for the crafter to communicate, even if he was trying to be better about it now.

Which is why he’s not writing out his responses so far. Forcing himself to answer Deimos as himself, regardless of the stutter that plagued him as he points out the portions of the blueprints and the sign’s design, of how the one merchant’s worries would be alleviated with a little bit of volunteer work.

He’s surprised to hear Deimos’ offer, though, and initially he looks like he’d say no to it, but given his stutter he’s prone to thinking about things before he says them, and all the notions of his refusal begin to fall apart with the crafters smile that graces his face, crooked and small but still there. “If you’re n-not too busy. I’d like th-that.” He doesn’t want to impose, of course.

Glas

// and leave you like they left me here //

cover you when the sky comes crashing in

Deimos wasn’t one to impose himself on anyone – could easily take a refusal just as easily as acceptance. He knew how simple, carefree, almost relieving it was to simply withhold himself in the shadows; a comforting embrace when everything else seemed to be overbearing and massive. Oftentimes he didn’t have the choice though – taking long strides towards the discomfort, rather than shirk and shy away from it. That didn’t mean he’d force his presence anywhere else though; so he looked away as Glas seemed to think and mull it over, placing another plushie on the table as his hands turned gilded and golden – unicorn embedded and embossed with silvern horns and Zuriel’s eyes.

When the notions seemed to be rendered back in his direction, he gave a low chuckle. “I am not,” and he pretended not to see the pile of paperwork still along the steady threshold of his table. “Those will always be there,” he remarked with one inclination towards the stack. “And I am sure Evie will soon accuse me of hovering.” So Glas would be doing him a service of tackling the restlessness looming through his pulse – the incessant need to be doing something, while constantly surrounding, pervading, and irritating the entire area. “Lead the way.”

DEIMOS

// disarm you with a smile //

Luckily for Deimos, Glas also ignores the stack of paperwork – figuring that the Warden knew best. And if he wanted to avoid the responsibilities of paperwork for something else that would also benefit his region and the convenient ability to get out and about without being strapped to the desk, who is the crafter to deny it? Was it not that different from when Glas would make the world slow while he threw himself into his work.

“Great.” He says with a bright smile, one that’s far brighter than he’d often granted before. It’s still lopsided, but the effort and appreciation glitters in his gaze as he rolls up the plans and sticks them back in the scroll bag, straightening up as Deimos asks him to lead the way. With a nod, he steps out and guides Deimos down the path toward the space in question – stepping into the shop he intends to give a voluntary new sign – for free of course.

The owner is older, pleased to see the crafter but even more pleased to see Deimos, shooting them both a bright smile and asking what he can do for them. And with some patience and careful wording, Glas is explaining the idea to him, reassuring the man that it would be for free and he wouldn’t have to worry about paying them back, but when the merchant still doesn’t quite believe it, Glas looks toward Deimos for a bit of help proving the point.

Glas

// and leave you like they left me here //

cover you when the sky comes crashing in

Deimos followed suit, eyes tracking the familiar route and shapes of the street. He was fond of this area too, of all the merchants hustling their wares, the creative efforts and pride Halovians took to their storefronts, to the passersby glancing at their offerings. He waved or nodded at a few as they wound their way through, making a mental note of some other considerations to conduct and commit to while still in this area, before they came to the intended shop.

Recognizing the older owner immediately, he bowed his head in greeting, then listened as Glas took the lead. It was good for him, the Sword figured, for the crafter to lay out the sales pitch, to extend his gratitude, to proclaim with contentment to his work and commitment to the potential orchestrations of said business.

He was surprised by the reluctance in the other though, and stepped forward when Glas seemed to turn his way, wanting the support. “From what I understand, this is experimental. We would not want to take your money for such things.” But he knew what most of them, including himself, were like, so he proffered another range and alternative, if the man still wanted to pursue payment options. “We could always consider a trade.”

DEIMOS

// disarm you with a smile //

At a loss and not quite articulated enough to be able to express that it would alleviate the shopkeep’s worries, the crafter is entirely grateful for Deimos’ help as he steps up to help. The answer does soothe the anxieties from the owner of the store, though, and it becomes very evident when the man grins and all of the tension seems to leave his shoulders. ‘A trade sounds fair.’ He offers, not wanting work for free – apparently somewhat worried what everyone else might think.

The shop itself specialized in furs and fabrics, a vital means in Halo given the cold weather. So he starts to list out all of the things he could trade for the work – from fur coats to quilts for them to take their pick. And all the while Glas offers the Warden a bright smile of gratitude before his attention is focused back on the shop keep. “A q-quilt would be nice.” He murmurs as the shop keep jots it down before looking to Deimos for what he might like for the trade.

Glas

// and leave you like they left me here //