[SE] I know a guy

Zavien

For the umpteenth time, Zavien shoved the drunkard forward. Luckily, the man's voice had gone hoarse only a few blocks after Mother Molly's, making it difficult for him to continue screaming profanities. However, that didn't stop the scent or grimy exterior from making his nose wrinkle on occasion. 

He looked to Deimos as the approached the towering structure of Stormbreak's observatory, the Spyglass. "We'll stop here for a moment. The primary officer of the Needle likes to spend his lunch breaks looking at the constellation charts." Popping his head into the building, he asked the keeper to fetch the man before settling on a bench outside with the restrained prisoner beside him. Despite the Longheat weather, he didn't want to subject anyone inside to their friend's lovely personality. 

As they waited for the man, Zavien thought about their situation, chuckling lightly. "You know, this time last year, I never would've thought I'd be a Dragoon." He'd been giddy when Koa had sent him to apply, all his childhood dreams coming true. Every moment since had been a wirlwind of realized dreams and creeping nightmares. He'd met lots of new friends and faced plenty of challenged, but he wouldn't change it for the world. Giving Deimos a smile, he asked, "Did you expect to be a father this time last year?"

I learned that in suffering,
we find the true measure of our strength.

Deimos

Deimos, for his part, remained the stoic and nonchalant figure, ready to ensure the criminal still managed to get to the location, should he somehow slip from Zavien’s hold. Any method would’ve suited the Sword just fine, but given how quiet the grumblings had become, he merely kept his eyes steady on the figure, then the world around them.

At the mention of the place – the Spyglass - his brow arched, glancing upwards at yet another building that seemed eager to tower over so many of the others. He had to wonder at their reasoning for continually building towards the sky, rather than outward, but perhaps it was more of a land proximity issue than anything else, or becoming closer to gods. Seemed like the Stormbreak vibe. He nodded at the insinuations regardless, assisting in dragging the cretin to the bench.

He didn’t sit though, standing like a sentinel as they waited, snorting at Zavien’s statement, but granting a small smile too. “Did you have an alternative occupation?” Or had it been the sheer surprise of it all becoming real? Deimos might have had those epiphanies once when he was younger, though the overwhelming bout of soldierhoood only became tangible the moment they stepped onto their first battlefield.

Nor had he expected the question at all – abruptly shifting his head from where he’d been glancing at the doorway, watching for anyone coming; the light grin returning. “No. We did not know Evie was pregnant until Leafchange.” First time parents and every learning curve thrown their way.

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight

Zavien

Considering the question, he thought about how he'd lived up to that point. Especially as the Void began to surface, Zavien had focused on Stormbreak and protecting the vulnerable within his city. But he'd never been able to hold a job, always too preoccupied with saving the world. Maybe that's why the Dragoons were the perfect fit. He smiled at the thought. "Not really. I tried different odd jobs, but always ended up as a soldier somewhere. Security details, manual labor, the occasional mercenary job." He shrugged his shoulders, supporting the drunkard as he started to flop over. Apparently his activities had taken their toll. "Until I joined the Dragoons, I never really fit in. Even now, I sometimes wonder if I'm in the right place..." He wondered if the strongest fighter in Caido could relate, trying to shake away his insecurity with a smile at the Sword. 

Zavien leaned back against the bench, propping his free arm on the back. Leafchange was close to Deepfrost and he raised his eyebrows at Deimos. "That's not very much notice but I'm sure you were overjoyed. Were you nervous about him coming with the Void being so new at the time? After all, it's only been a year since it appeared." It felt like a lifetime, but in reality, the purple infection had only surfaced recently. Maybe it was the aggressive spread or the frequent dangers, but time seemed to slow with it's precense.

I learned that in suffering,
we find the true measure of our strength.

Deimos

Perhaps Deimos had been fortunate in being able to find his lot in life very early. He couldn’t quite fathom going through so many details and occupations, before finally finding something he liked. But the Moonlit Tides had been oriented towards wars and battles and bloodshed well before he’d ever been born – a part of life to cycle back into seditious lines and spoils of blades. Helovia had been much the same, and so he’d been contorted within revolution and sovereignty in each lifetime. Whether or not that bothered him remained unsaid – though he only vaguely wrinkled his nose. “What makes you believe you do not fit in?” Zavien had seemed accustomed to the job moments before – either through natural abilities or learned notions.

He snorted at the other implications though, granting another small smile. “We felt a lot of emotions.” Joy. Anxiety. More joy. “I think, no matter the circumstances, I will always be nervous for those I cherish.” It came with the territory of his life; the deep apprehension cutting through his bones, the way his soul had chiseled away for long periods of time, blackened and hardened with loss. “But, as I have been told many times,” see, sometimes therapy stuck, “there may never be a right opportunity.” Even if they’d had Erebos earlier, the Void still would’ve been there, and the youth would’ve simply been that much older. “I prefer having him now, then waiting until all of this is over.” Because who was to know when it would cease and desist, and time had marched on?

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight

Zavien

With the liquor finally catching up with him, the drunkard slumped over to the side. This time, Zavien let him, only holding his hands in case it was a ruse. "I'm not the strongest. Or fastest. Or smartest. Or bravest. Honestly, I might be the weakest of the Dragoons, and I'm definitely one of the oldest rookies." He chuckled around the bitter truth of his words. Running his free hand through his hair, he looked up at the building towering above them. "I just wonder sometimes if I'm making a fool of myself." He finally looked back to Deimos, vulnerable in light of his confession. Not wanting the Warden to think he was unhappy, he gave a reassuring smile. "So I just have to keep trying and training."

The topic of babies and life changes was much more positive, making him grin. Zavien had never really been one to waste time, but even he sometimes forgot to live in the moment. Nodding his head, he said, "That makes sense. At least now that he's here, you'll be able to take advantage of the time you have with him. Could you imagine going through all this without his smiling little face?" His laugh was warm as he pictured Deimos coming home after a long day of trauma and atrocities, getting to overshadow the dark thoughts with the pure joy of his baby boy.

I learned that in suffering,
we find the true measure of our strength.

Deimos

Deimos eyed the drunk, but only for a few moments, before his gaze went back to Zavien. The unfurling of hesitancies, inhibitions, and fragility made sense; the Sword had held most of those beliefs in his life too. “I am none of those things either.” He shrugged his shoulders – someone probably held more strength, speed, cleverness, and bravery than him; but that didn’t mean he automatically sunk into the abyss and simply gave in. As tempting as it might have been over a variety of circumstances – the gloom, angst, depression, melancholy, and self-loathing still hadn’t won. “But you are willing to try – which is far more than most will ever accomplish.” And he’d always been a proponent of determination; because sometimes, at the end of the day, when all the weaknesses volleyed and rallied like a darkening cloud, stubbornness and tenacity might just be the only thing left. “You will grow, just as we all have.”

His stare went back to the door, glancing to see if anyone was coming for the fool, and perhaps giving Zavien time to compose himself (if it was necessary; maybe it was just the Warden who craved masks after bouts of vulnerability). All the while though he listened, the lightest of smiles appearing again. “Exactly. And he has started to crawl.” His nose wrinkled, amused. “Some moments you do not want to miss,” and his brow arched, considering, pondering if Zavien felt the same about some instances, or if he was far more capable of seizing those instances.

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight

Zavien

Even as Deimos tried to tell him that he wasn't all the things he'd just said, Zavien had difficulty believing it. He'd won literal contests around being the best fighter. He led men and women. He didn't look like someone who knew what doubting even felt like. Yet the Dragoon didn't know him well enough to say those things. He didn't know what kind of difficulties he'd struggled with or how far he'd come. So, Zavien tried to accept the advice, just echoes of his own thoughts. Smiling, he gave a shrug. "I understand. The thoughts just creep in sometimes, but don't worry, they don't stay for long." 

As he was about to comment on the joys of fatherhood and Deimos's obvious blessings to see his son grow up, a stiff suit walked out of the Spyglass. His attire was pristine and he had a haughty air about him that was accentuated by the upward tilt of his head needed to keep his thick spectacles on his nose. His hair was slicked back and tied at the nape while his face was clean shaven, thin lips sitting beneath a bulbous nose. Standing quickly, Zavien dragged the drunkard to his feet, who stumbled with an incoherent mumble. His stance was tight and his words clipped as he addressed the man. "Good afternoon, Mr. Brazzos. I have a man here who needs questioning and detainment after assaulting multiple women, damaging property, and disturbing the peace." 

The man, Mr. Brazzos, barely shifted his eyes in Zavien's direction, waving a dismissive hand. "Yeah yeah. I heard. Let's be on our way." He then proceeded to stalk down the cobbled street without looking back. 

Zavien looked back to Deimos, an exasperated look on his face. "I guess we better be on our way. I can't wait to drop this guy off so we can go get some food."

I learned that in suffering,
we find the true measure of our strength.

Deimos

“As long as we overcome them,” and he smiled again – knowing well how the thoughts crept and smoldered and buried; until they were befitting a noose. But not in this juncture or moment, because no sooner had those vulnerabilities been sewn tightly that another came striding through, and Deimos stood aside as the aforementioned officer seemed to finally want the drunken criminal. He watched as Zavien strived to honor all the sanctities, and the other didn’t seem to care – brows furrowing slightly at what he’d witnessed.

“That was useless,” and his eyes narrowed dangerously – but there wasn’t a point to going anywhere else with the opposing figure’s dismissive attitude. It still wasn’t his jurisdiction. A long sigh flickered through and he shook his head, a brief roll of his gaze the only other thing to suggest his irritation in the local justice system. “Agreed.” Then off they could go, to drop off the fool.

[FIN]

you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight