how long will you scream at the walls
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Online
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Posts: 6,559 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#15
DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
The unknown was daunting and frustrating, and he kept floundering about in its depths, pushing at edges and fringes, with no frayed ends granting him answers, or even the slightest inclination, the merest clue. Rexanna was even intended to recruit, and he snorted. Do not bother with me he nearly proclaimed, lost in the muck of his frustrations, in the spiral of these ongoing dramatics, in the course of restriction and sedition. He couldn’t say anything to her though – not about this, not about that, not about anything pertaining to his anger, to his wrath – she’d been able to sense it long before anyway. It would’ve been a wasted breath. He drew back into a quiet, hushed reticence, nonchalant, the steel and iron forged across his brow, pondering, calculating, trying desperately to surmise something to get her out of this predicament – Helovia had been far easier, the politics not as convoluted and contrived, the battles far more concise and expected. These machinations were more polished endeavors, the Merciless’s way of stomping down upon those who might’ve been a threat - enlisting them into her own brigade, a means of force, ominous and foreboding. No one wanted their cherished individuals to suffer – so they relented, so they bowed their heads, so they played an entirely different game – one the Reaper had no interest in.

He wanted death. He wanted massacres. He wanted devastation; a palace in ruins.

Poor Remi though; he might’ve volunteered him for another job. “He does have a wedding to plan for,” the beast shrugged, yearning to take back the suggestion, the more he thought of it. He wished he were more capable, knew how to whittle incantations straight into the items and artifacts, that he could be of more use instead of lingering in the same circles and arches night after night, day after day. He clenched his jaw again, the only possible outlet of frustration besides the depths of his eyes, only tilting his head back to the flames, back to Rexanna, when she asked how he manifested objects. She wanted to try – and he shrugged; no harm, no foul, especially if she might’ve grown in the same way he had, gaining new abilities over time.

“Yes,” Deimos nodded, bringing his hands together, then peeling them apart. A golden glow maintained itself in the center – his concentration, his enchantments, reaching down into the pervading essence of power contorting through his veins. “I picture what I want to create in my head,” and then an outline began to form, stretching across the gilded framework, “and play it out.” A moment later, a smaller stiletto had appeared – long and thin, but perfect for keeping furtive and secret, hidden and locked away beneath sleeves or under garb. Imprinted on its tiny hilt and pommel were sketches of fire. Then he handed it to her.
Unite and spread the heart apart
Rexanna De Rosieres
the Penumbra
Queen of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 34 | Height: 5'4" | Race: Ascended x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 4 Abandoned (Level 3 Ascended) - Strg: 19 - Dext: 14 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 9 - Int:
Played by: Skylark Offline
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Posts: 1,453 | Total: 13,495
MP: 0
#16
REXANNA
you don't get to die and be reborn the same.
you come back,
Rexanna nods when he mentions that Remi has a wedding – finding that type of conversation far easier than the one they previously had. Ah, but no rest for the wicked (wicked in the sense of quiet hidden conversations, concealed from the public) and she debates whether to ask him for it now or later. She thinks she has time (oh, but how wrong she is) and she puts the thought on the back of her mind. Her gaze drifts toward Deimos as she asks him to show her how to create, and her brows lift as she huddles a bit closer toward him.

His hands move together, and a gilt glow forms within them that already is something Rexanna can appreciate, and when he mentions he’s thinking of what he wants to create and plays it out, she follows suit. Placing her hands together, she aims for the same kind of magic, that same well of power that vibrates and resonates against her soul and the pit of her stomach. It’s an adventure, to say the least, and she waits for a time for something to happen. Nothing does, not now, and she sighs quietly as she inspects the item Deimos had created and handed to her. She admires the flames along the sides with a gentle smile that fades quickly.

Ah, so like this?” She sets the item aside after inspecting it and tries again, placing her hands together and trying so very hard until right before she calls it quits, a reddish glow begins to grow beneath her hands. She doesn’t know what she’s creating, really, until she thinks of Deimos and his instruction, and her mind runs away with the possibilities. There, within her hands, a small snowflake is created, with sharp edges and balanced for throwing.

This item she inspects with awe before handing it to Deimos for approval. This is how they had always been, a mix of fire and ice. How fitting.
but you come back wrong
this is the price
you pay for
resurrection
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Online
Change author:
Posts: 6,559 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#17
DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
So she could too - another connection, beyond snow and glaciers, beyond valleys past where frozen kings tried their best to fend off the rest of the world, where fiery thieves hastened across rime and stone, committed to their duties.

He watched as she followed his gestures – nothing at first, until she was done inspecting his blade, the curl of embers and coil of rapacity slinking down its metallic sides. Instead of his golden glow, and from where he’d received such a hue he wasn’t entirely certain, hers was crimson, not like blood, but infernos and beckoning siren songs; his stare fixated on whatever she’d managed or maintained to embody in the sanction of the shadows. Then, all at once, it was a snowflake, rendered like a throwing star, and his heart, his lungs, his soul was suddenly homesick for a world that couldn’t, wouldn’t, have him again.

“Yes,” he paused, taking the object in his hands when she proffered it to him, sticking the points close to his skin, inspecting just for the sake of feeling the depths of the cold rushing against his flesh once more. “Like that.” It hurt in pieces and ways he couldn’t understand, a strange sort of incomprehension buried into his presence, and he sighed before returning it back to her – another portion of his sanctity gone. “Do you miss it?” He asked into the darker threads, then realized he hadn’t intonated which or what she was supposed to be lacking; swallowed down the choking remnants of forgotten caves and lost hot springs, the dazzling sight of the aurora blending across the horizon.

The Reaper had so many things here, but sometimes the mountains still called to his heart, sometimes the ocean still grasped at his soul, and sometimes the destroyed worlds echoed in his dreams.

“The Basin?” He prospered again, before sighing, inhaling on a sharper breath, wafting and waning away from the curling fronds of his own anguish and melancholy. He set himself back to work – hands closing in on one another again, then straightening out, separating, the golden glow returning back into the Stygian crag. “How much larger can you make things?” Remi had insisted there’d been tiers, parameters, levels almost; but also limitations. Deimos wanted to test her capabilities too – and ghosts reverberated in his incantations as a lengthy pike streamlined from his invocations. It appeared plain – except for the detailing, stitching, and seaming of mountains on the hilt, on the pommel, where hands could remain on what once was and could never be.
Unite and spread the heart apart
Rexanna De Rosieres
the Penumbra
Queen of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 34 | Height: 5'4" | Race: Ascended x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 4 Abandoned (Level 3 Ascended) - Strg: 19 - Dext: 14 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 9 - Int:
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,453 | Total: 13,495
MP: 0
#18
REXANNA
you don't get to die and be reborn the same.
you come back,
Her gaze lingers on one of her oldest, most unique friends, as he pauses and takes the object she gives to him. She wants to see his reaction, wants to see him enjoy the briefest of memories even if they hadn’t directly lived those lives they crave – the comforts and power that came with them. They were something there, vital parts to making things work, and work it had. Here, at least Rexanna felt as though she was on the wrong side of the war, watching as it raged below her unable to do anything against it.

His voice grows quiet then, and he asks her if she misses it. Her gaze drops toward the snowflake, edges sharp as a blade and weighted easily for throwing. Yes she wants to say, she wants to scream it to the world, to slip out of this world and rewrite her history there to make things better – perhaps Kiada might not look at her with such anger and dismay. Perhaps she might have been a great mother. But she’ll never know, and with the plans in her mind, she realizes that she might never find out. Sometimes there are things you need to come to terms with.

He refers to the Basin, and she nods, a soft sigh escaping through her lips as she lifts her gaze toward his own icy ones. “I miss it so much.” She offers quietly, a hint of a sorrowful smile playing on her lips. “I would have done things so much differently, but I can’t change what happened there. I can only be better here.” She admits, though the path she’s walking rides the line incredibly hard. She hopes Deimos can see that she’s making an effort, trying her best to be on the good side of it all. And while her heart is good, her intentions are good, things never really went according to plan for them.

Raising her gaze to him as he questions how much larger she can make them, she shakes her head with a small shrug. “I don’t think much bigger.” She admits with a sad smile. “It feels different than my firework magic that I can make in varying sizes, I can feel the well of power of the magic. When I try to pull at it, I can pull more out of it to make a bigger firework… And well, this, it feels all the same.” She says quietly, following his instruction and spreading her hands before her until the red glow begins again, and she makes something reminiscent of a brooch – but within it, mountains arise and a slightly color changing hue above the mountains, wavy and beautiful. The Aurora.
but you come back wrong
this is the price
you pay for
resurrection
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Online
Change author:
Posts: 6,559 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#19
DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
The Basin had never been perfect. They’d had their own brutalizing personalities, their wagging tongues, their political strife, and some of their more ridiculous means and measures amidst comrades – but it’d been home. The mountains had been rising forces and an assemblage to the stars, cast aside by the constellations and galaxies so their mighty predilections could see the strength and beauty behind their eyes. The cold had been its own glacial tenacity, ensuring no one weak, no one foolish, could survive its regions; and the basking ways in which they all seemed to combine themselves into one prickly, disastrous unit. They’d been enduring. They’d been persevering. They’d been towers. They’d been amidst the stories and legends, the myths unfolding from the peaks’ creations. They’d been devastated and torn apart, destined to rise and fall, the same as any world, but it’d been theirs, theirs, theirs, and then it wasn’t anymore. He listened in the hushed throng, as the spells cast couldn’t override the fault lines, the tenors, the bludgeoning wounds of the past. But he caught her quiet intonations, the way swords and daggers had been side-by-side with cloaks and secrets, the way they’d formed collected units of strife, strength, and power; prowess in the dark. “No, we cannot. But we can learn from them.” He nodded in accord, in agreement, not lifting his brows to any particular haunting spiels; Rexanna’s departure had gaped at his nefarious heart and tugged it wide-open, flayed and left in his rime, in his snow, with nothing but the silence drifting, scourging, maiming. It wasn’t the same now. She’d promised.

Their discussion of magic brought him back to the fold: her fireworks still at play here, even across numerous portals, histories, and realms, proffering a soft smirk at the notion – the way death notes had followed him, eternally a Reaper, no matter the story. “Interesting,” he noted, brows furrowing slightly. “I had the same feeling when I first started creating, then it seemed to strengthen in time. Maybe the more you use it?” The inquisition would likely go unanswered; a way for him to muse out loud over the paradoxes and enigmas of this sovereign from the last. Deimos watched as she spread her hands again, the fiery glow warm in the ducts and drapery of shadow, and then ornamentation came to life: a brooch, but instead of just perfected jewels and opulence, he saw a peek of mountains and auroras, shifting, blending hues, streaks of the horizon combatting all of their raw anger and vitriol – beauty in the finest of breakdowns and catastrophes, calamities brooding in their abhorrence; but never at those sights. He sighed.
Unite and spread the heart apart
Rexanna De Rosieres
the Penumbra
Queen of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 34 | Height: 5'4" | Race: Ascended x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 4 Abandoned (Level 3 Ascended) - Strg: 19 - Dext: 14 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 9 - Int:
Played by: Skylark Offline
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Posts: 1,453 | Total: 13,495
MP: 0
#20
REXANNA
you don't get to die and be reborn the same.
you come back,
His voice rumbles, and for a moment she watches his face in a small amount of fear of retaliation, of arguments and fire, of brimstone and blame, but there’s nothing. Her betrayal once before wasn’t a reflection on her now – she hopes she has proven it. She hopes, much like with Kiada, that she’s a different version of herself. The better version. But she has no real way of knowing other than keeping promises, and this promise was something easy to keep. If only it weren’t for Zariah lurking around every corner.

But as she tells him that she can’t make more than this, she nods in understanding. “Practice makes perfect, right?” She asks with a tilt to her head, a small smile creeping on the edges of her lips. When she’s done with the brooch, she inspects it before looking up at Deimos and a gentle smile despite the memories it brought back. “Do you remember the hot springs? Those were my favorite.” She hummed with the memory, aiming to reach up and pin the aurora crested brooch onto his clothes.

She had so many memories, of painting and destruction, of the festivals they had held and the brilliance of the light overhead. She didn’t know how the other version of her had thought the Edge would be better. It was murky and foggy, drafty and dull. In the Basin, she at least had him and the mountains, the lights overhead, and respect from her peers.
but you come back wrong
this is the price
you pay for
resurrection
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Online
Change author:
Posts: 6,559 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#21
DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
There were poignant memories, even amidst the clattering, ringing decibels of heartache and turmoil. The Basin hadn’t been without some essence of bliss and happiness, between betrayals, martyrs, and murders; cyclical in nature, hearts for hearts, lies for lies, wars for wars. They were not the same beings tossed in amongst the snow; grown or departed from those reaches of mountains and scorn, hostility and war, and yet not at all in the same instance, patterns repeating in reverberations and calculations, in tyrants and crowns. But he’d rather reflect on the better nuances now, the things that lingered well after his departure, his demise, the efforts made to be pieces of puzzles. The memories settled, and they took their turn tossing one after the other, a small smile segmenting its way back to his features, his eyes darting along roots and shadows, panels and cobblestones, before coming back to Rexanna (no longer the Thief; something else, evolved and adapted to a different world). “The lake that never froze was my favorite, but the hot springs were a close second.” It was where he’d collapse and breathe in the haze of exhaustion, it was where he could stare out over the open sky, lean back and recall who he was after the blood rinsed off his skin, his flesh. The lake was something else entirely, beautiful and serene, incapable of absorbing the frost and rime otherwise taking hold of the world. He’d lived amidst its banks too, patrolling and guarding, promising savagery even when everything else seemed lost and forlorn.

Rexanna reached over and pinned the aurora crest on his tunic; something in his heart lurched and he wanted to fade away. He wouldn’t know what to do with such beauty – didn’t know how to thank her, didn’t know how to react, lowering his head at the small, delicate weight of it against his figure.

Curiosity was an indulgent master though, and he glanced back at her, a tone without malice, without contempt, without the boldness and distaste of duplicity or treachery laden in his voice. “Did you enjoy the Edge?” For all its parts – not just the days with Tembovu or caught in the crossfire of being an individual once of the Basin.
Unite and spread the heart apart
Rexanna De Rosieres
the Penumbra
Queen of the Hollowed Grounds

Age: 34 | Height: 5'4" | Race: Ascended x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 4 Abandoned (Level 3 Ascended) - Strg: 19 - Dext: 14 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 9 - Int:
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,453 | Total: 13,495
MP: 0
#22
REXANNA
you don't get to die and be reborn the same.
you come back,
Memories flash before her mind as Deimos mentions the Lake. She hadn’t ventured there much, but she did recall the way the lake seemed like a mirror when the Aurora danced above. She’d lived on the edges of the lake, up in the side of one of the mountains, a beautiful view if not a bit chilly. She recalls the fight with Ashamin there, recalls the first child she’d reared — one from him, from the Haruspex of the North. But that’s all far away, and she gives Deimos a small wry smile as she pins the brooch onto him and inspects it. “Such a beautiful lake.” She admits with that same small smile.

But his next question causes her to falter slightly, as he asks if she liked the Edge. Her smile fades and she awkwardly laughs. “It was so boring.” She says easily. “Foggy and drab all the time.” She makes no mention of Tembovu or the tearing of 3 more children, of the arguments and struggles and strife she’d faced when she lived within the Edge and Tembovu still managed to have a child with someone else. She gnaws on her lip slightly before smiling to Deimos.

Well, I should probably go before someone comes looking for me.” She says quietly, eyes drifting back toward Deimos. “I’ll let you know what else happens, the most that I can.” She adds quickly.
but you come back wrong
this is the price
you pay for
resurrection
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Online
Change author:
Posts: 6,559 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#23
DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
The nostalgia reigned in quiet subterfuge; and he laughed when she announced the Edge was boring - dull, lifeless, foggy, and drab. He didn’t have quite the same sentiments: the World’s Edge had been his first home after Isilme, brief and succinct, but he recalled the gnarled crashing of the waves, the infernal, labyrinthine life; how it had emboldened him towards the Moonlit Tides, how he had stretched his guard’s sword across its threshold and dared to pierce it into an intruder’s flesh. It hadn’t mattered in the end though, gone in a matter of moments, once they were invaded, once they were sieged, assaulted, and assailed; the lights gone out on their glassy walls – refugee scorn spurning them into the Steppe, where they’d held their ground, simmered, and seethed. Perhaps after everything, the Basin really had been better; in some ways, in some machinations, in some schemes, or perhaps more of a unified front of distinction and power, flexing their prowess even when it seemed useless.

But then it drifted away – the spells broken for another time – Rexanna meandering away from the underground’s cavernous exploits. “Stay safe,” he nodded and indulged, waiting for her to leave, hands finding the brooch while he passed the time, then made his own escape.
Unite and spread the heart apart


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