[SE] Worn-out places

the bastion

The air in Stormbreak is sharp, edged with something colder than the season should allow. Flowerbirth has touched even this place, though—the wind carries the scent of sea and sky, but beneath it, there’s the quiet bloom of new growth, of life reasserting itself even here, where the Family has claimed so much.

Remi moves soundlessly through the sprawling graveyard behind the Temple, his wings tucked in tightly against his back. He shouldn't be here. Anyone with any sense would say as much, but hesitating—fearing what Stormbreak has become under Dahlia’s rule—feels like an insult to the very task Mort has given him. If devotion is measured in action, then this, too, must be part of it.

He carries armfuls of flowers, dozens upon dozens, each one carefully chosen from Mateo’s shop. They range from the simple to the rare, blooms of every color spilling from his grasp like an offering, like something bright to counterbalance the weight of loss that lingers in the stones and the earth.

As he walks, he begins laying them down. One by one.

A cluster of white lilies for those taken before their time.

Marigolds for the ones who had fought, who had burned bright and fierce.

Bluebells for the ones who had been loved, who had left behind grief and longing like footprints in the dirt.

There are too many graves. Too many names etched into stone. And though he does not know them all, he treats them as if he does, moving with the kind of reverence that one who has carried so much loss feels in his bones. Remi exhales, kneeling by one of the graves, running his fingers lightly over the carved name before setting another bloom beside it.

Now, all there is to do is wait for Deimos, and hope that the Sword wouldn't find his request to meet here odd enough to ignore.

I got a feeling inside that I can't domesticate
It doesn't wanna live in a cage,
A feeling that I can't housebreak

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

and the only solution was to stand and fight

Traveling to Stormbreak had been low on his priority list, but he’d make the time, and the trepidation, for Remi. Besides, there were warnings he wanted to inflect, in case the Bastion wasn’t certain of what his daughter intended to do – amidst the maelstrom of circumstances unfurling all around them, all the time.

So he stepped lightly along the reaches of this land, first in his invisibility cloak, and then appearing more so when the crowds were gathered along the Temple grounds. Perhaps it looked as though he was simply there for times of worship. He didn’t miss the flowers though, eyes flickering over ivory lilies and clusters of marigolds, those blue and left behind, and followed them along until he spotted Remi amidst the makeshift grove of graves and stones.

He'd been used to pyres of their deceased – if they could be reached and snagged at all. In previous worlds, he’d buried most of his friends amidst battlefields. To see markers of theirs gave him pause, but he didn’t recognize names – so he let the Attuned bond ruffle over the area, so that the demigod would sense his approach long before his frame came alongside. “Remi,” he offered, asking nothing about the location. Most of them had multitudes of reasons to mourn. I was very sorry to hear about Seren. And Ronin. A long breath came rankling through, the uncertainty warring its way through his mind, not wanting to place so many burdens and so many multitudes; knowing the way it warred across his own shoulders so often.

DEIMOS

the bastion

Remi doesn’t look up immediately as Deimos arrives, but he feels him all the same—the presence settling beside him, the weight of his name spoken with something quiet, something understanding. The words that follow strike deeper than Remi would have liked, even if he knew they were meant with sincerity, if only because his grief felt so bottomless just then. He exhales softly, his fingers brushing against the petals of a marigold before he finally turns his seaglass gaze toward the Sword.

Thank you, he thinks in response; no need to let the Family’s ears reach where they shouldn’t. Straightening, Remi shakes some of the soil from his hands before resting them lightly at his sides, his fingers twitching briefly before stilling. His wings shift against his back, a flicker of restlessness that betrays the exhaustion beneath his steady exterior. Mort has given me a task, he continues, his mental voice low and even. If I complete it, Vi may grant me one of his roses.

Glancing around, the Bastion sighs softly. Easier as it would have been to tend to the graves in Torchline or even in King's End...for something as serious as this I thought Vi might appreciate coming here instead. Cowardly was not a synonym often connected with the god of life, nor was calculatingly cautious. I did think it best not to be alone, though. Hence his invitation to the Sword.

I got a feeling inside that I can't domesticate
It doesn't wanna live in a cage,
A feeling that I can't housebreak

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

and the only solution was to stand and fight

Graveyards and catacombs, tombs of stone, were a solemn thing. Though he understood all those souls had gone to Mort, that they were content within another realm, portions of his Outlander heart still met with the eternal unrest of knowing they were gone. He’d made many amends with those like Rexanna; but so many more had been shuffled off of mortal coils in other lands, in other worlds, with naught so binding as somewhere divine. So he stood there, quiet and stark, waiting, eyes flickering over the engraved names and titles, embedded memories of yesteryears and the present.

News of tasks, and flowers contorted through his mind, and he nodded in understanding – movements necessary, given the state of the world. It seemed the Bastion had been pulled back into the void plotlines, despite striving and trying to put the distance between. Another unfortunate thing lost; the respite and repose long gone for the whole lot of them. Do you have anything else you need to do? Though perhaps tending to this site was enough – and though likely it wasn’t overlooked, it was still a monumental thing, with rows upon rows of individuals and bones and grief.

But if he didn’t want to be alone through it all, Deimos was there just the same. If several oher plants nearby suddenly bloomed, he wouldn’t say much; earthen magic potent and strong. Clenching his jaw, and holding back another long breath, because he didn’t want to make things worse for Remi, he considered and weighed his options. Were it him in this position, he’d want to know what any of his family were scheming – especially if it meant the potential lethality and danger. Did Flora tell you of her plans? He jerked his head towards the direction of the Tower, and then waited.

DEIMOS

the bastion

Remi lets his fingers trail absently over the petals of the flowers he's placed, a quiet act of reverence, a momentary anchor against the weight of all that looms overhead. Deimos’s question is met with a flicker of appreciation—practical as ever, the Sword's concern is measured, his presence steady. A few things, the Bastion admits, his seaglass gaze flicking toward the graves, to the ones still waiting. But I have most of them done already. In his haste he'd forgone sleep for a few days that he might complete what he'd needed to in the Greatwood, stopping at home to check on Ronin before coming with another excuse to leave the Knight for a few days.

The mention of Flora, though, has Remi stilling slightly. His lips press into a thin line, not out of displeasure, but in consideration. His daughter's name is not one he takes lightly, least of all when it comes paired with plans and Tower. The way Deimos tilts his head is enough to tell him what he means. She...told me to hurry and heal Ronin so that she could count on his ability to bring her back from the dead.. Brow furrowing, the Bastion straightens. Did she tell you what she is planning? Because Flora—gods love her—was still his daughter, and she knew full well how he’d react to certain things. That he wouldn’t approve. That he would try to stop her, or at the very least, try to keep her from breaking herself in the process.

I got a feeling inside that I can't domesticate
It doesn't wanna live in a cage,
A feeling that I can't housebreak

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

and the only solution was to stand and fight

The Sword wasn’t surprised by Remi’s quick and efficient actions, and he nodded, eyes flickering past graves and along portions of stone, where other portions loomed. For all the time Sohalia had taken to ensure Stormbreak was open and hospitable to all, it didn’t take long for other individuals to sully the entire operation. On that trail of thoughts, he didn’t ask about Ronin, figuring that was enough of a hardship already with poking and prodding at opened wounds.

Flora was likely trial and tribulation enough, and for all her own decisive and divisive actions, the latest seemed more than troubling and vexing. That she’s already relayed some information, without the fundamentals of why made his jaw clench, unfurling a long breath in preparation. We had a meeting with several of the leaders to plan next steps. She wants to discuss things with Dahlia. Given the circumstances being what they were, the insinuations of how this could go was an overbearing prospect. She understood our warnings, but… Remi would know – it hadn’t seemed to matter much.

DEIMOS

the bastion

Remi exhales slowly, the sound barely more than a whisper against the hush of the graveyard. His fingers still their absent movements, curling briefly against his palm before he forces them to relax. His daughter was many things—brilliant, bold, reckless in the way only the young could afford to be—but cautious? Measured? Not so much.

A meeting with Dahlia, though? Fuck.

His wings shift against his back, a restless movement betraying the tension winding through him that Deimos would nevertheless be treated to thanks to the bond extending between the pair. But she said she'd do it anyway? A quiet, humourless huff of laughter escapes him, because yes. Yes, that sounds exactly like Flora.

Did you get the impression she means to go alone? The thought curls unpleasantly in his chest, cold and sharp. Flora might be many things, but she wasn't a fool—not entirely. Perhaps Jack, then? If she was truly entertaining the idea of meeting with Dahlia, it wouldn't be without reason. His seaglass gaze flickers toward Deimos, searching. Did she say why she was planning on such a thing?

I got a feeling inside that I can't domesticate
It doesn't wanna live in a cage,
A feeling that I can't housebreak

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

and the only solution was to stand and fight

The Sword could recall multiple times in the wake and wanderings of youth where he’d been just as reckless. So while he didn’t judge her for the notions, the need, the yearning to go do something, nowadays, the cost was too high to be playing such dangerous games. Especially after her own lessons in consequences, and that was probably where they rankled the most – because it didn’t seem to atter what they did – vengeance might’ve been inevitable. Remi predicted the first portions anyway. Yes he nodded, loosening another sigh.

She did not mention including anyone else. Whether or not that was in her machinations though, he couldn’t say. It would be far wiser to include someone in her impending endeavors, at least in case of death – which still drummed restlessly against his ribs. He arched a brow instead, trying to curb the volleying and rallying trepidations. Seemed as though she intended to discuss motivations. To see what the Family really wanted with Caido. Which, they could probably all surmise takeovers and expansion, given what had already occurred across regions. Thought we should have another plan, going forward, in case ours backfired. He wasn't against those propositions, but the matter of...how she was going about it on this iteration. Or even where to go after such conversations, if they could play out at all.

DEIMOS

the bastion

Remi exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening as frustration simmers just beneath the surface. His fingers flex at his sides before he shoves them into his pockets, a poor attempt at stillness when everything in him hums with the need to move, to do something. She's lucky she's as untouchable as she is. The words come through the bond edged with something sharp, something tight with worry, because Flora had never been one to take the safe route given the massive safety net around her, but even still—this isn't a game. And she knows that. She should know that, anyway.

His wings shift against his back again, restless, itching with the need for action. Dahlia is smart. Smart and cruel and powerful in ways Flora hasn’t encountered before. There are worse things than death, and Dahlia will know them all. Remi presses his lips into a thin line, his mind flickering through every possibility, every way this could go wrong. She might think she’s playing the Family, but they’ve been playing this game for a very long time and I am sure they think farther ahead than we can even imagine at this point.

He exhales sharply again, dragging a hand down his face before fixing Deimos with a look. Thank you for letting me know. Perhaps...I will not tell her immediately once I have cured Ronin. Or maybe I will lie and say I need her help for some final task so that I can speak to her. Certainly Remi wasn't above lying to try and trick his daughter into hearing sense.

I got a feeling inside that I can't domesticate
It doesn't wanna live in a cage,
A feeling that I can't housebreak

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

and the only solution was to stand and fight

Deimos had learned over his multiple lives that no one was untouchable. He’d certainly tried – becoming some nonchalant, apathetic fixture on the horizon, and even then, he’d found ways to love and triumph. There was always something – a way the world contorted its way into their skin. Even if Flora believed herself nearly infallible, she’d already experienced a magnitude of hardships, and upcoming meetings with Dahlia could potentially lead into things beyond death. Remi’s thoughts echoed his own, and his jaw clenched again, not wanting for his mind to wander down the paths of brutality. That is what I fear. How they’d gone after Luka simply to get at Sah. How there had been other bodies lined up to be found over the regions. Signs the games they were playing were all coming to a head.

You are welcome. As for how the Bastion wanted to handle it – Deimos would leave that up to him. It would be difficult to surmise and withstand no matter the action; he figured the Doubletake’s aversion would ring true. Good luck he offered in return, before they could part ways, with many things to accomplish.

[FIN]

DEIMOS