how to live as ghosts
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 32 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 33
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,462
MP:
#1
DEIMOS
The dead haunted in multitudes and differentiations – sometimes pulsing, pervading amongst the living again, as if they never left, ghosts wailing from across chasms and corridors, stuck in distant, ongoing refrains. Others were around, lilting, languid, restless pieces, like chains, like tethers, like lines, reminders of failures or parting words, quaking, shuddering, last breaths on guttural intonations. Then distinct beacons they lived in the back of minds, carved out memories to savor, to poignancy, to fervor, to anguish and despair upon, guilt eating away at a soul, because one lived and the other did not. This was where most of his resided, occasionally crawling out of their catacombs and sepulchers in his dreams, in his nightmares, wondering why he hadn’t done more to save them, calling and clawing, scratching and ripping, tearing along all those fortifications, all those walls, that he couldn’t embody in the vulnerability of slumber.

But he was awake now – in the darkness, treading through flames, bright, brilliant remembrances of those lost, lost, lost. He honored a few, mused, pondered that perhaps he’d spread the rest of them out of the courses of years and seasons, because there were too many, shards and splinters, fractures and phantoms – the ones not spared, the ones beloved, the ones on his horizon, the ones in his blood.

So it seemed, Kiada shared the same experiences, hanging her lights, her lanterns, only to turn back, to him, as if he were some stalwart beacon in the midnight oils, wrapping herself around him, quaking, shuddering, trembling. The warrior, the Sword, the Reaper, extended his arms around her lithe, little form, pulling her further into his chest, his head up, eyes along the intertwining, blinking chords of embers and follies. Some broken, fallen things had managed to gather more than a few fires; lives that touched, lives that scorched, lives that burned, burned, burned, then extinguished. But hers, like the ones he’d created for his mother, for his father, was alone, bronze, foxes and stones. Deimos’ breath eased, body solid and colossal, a warden, a blackguard, for all her terrors and memories; voice only igniting over the throng when she seemed settled. “Do you want to talk about him?” It was calm, it was composed, because that seemed to be what she needed, what she craved. And if she didn’t yearn to discuss the boy, then the warrior was fine with comfort in silence too.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Guild Master/Mercenary

Age: 24 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 17
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,115
MP:
#2
KIADA
ok, ok, i never had wings, only feathers
& i cried like a baby when they left me
She had spent the year composed, grieving in her own ways in the aftermath, to have him and hold him and to lose him so quickly after it had begun again. A second time, a second chance, dashed away because of Longnight — the sick luxere, the monsters outside, the ability to sound like loved ones banging on the door. And nobody had let him in, nobody had dared.

She had spent a lot of the year deciding if she would have let him in, too, or if it would’ve been a trick to her like what happened between Deimos and her in their first venture to the Greatwood. The Reaper, the only one that knew him, had seen the way the two of them got along, children born and hewn from the rocks of the northernmost peaks — cold as cold could be on the outside, an inferno from within. Deimos, the man she goes to after hanging Ru’in’s lantern. The only constant in a world of inconsistencies. Her hands tremble, her body wrapped in scarves and jackets to ward away the cold, eyes brimming with tears.

She hates feeling so weak, but the feeling overcomes her worse with the blight. She feels more deeply, feels the hole he’d left behind.

Felt the warm arms of Deimos slip around her while she shudders within his grip, his grasp, trying to hold her breath and forget how to breathe if it will make the tears stop.

And it doesn’t work.

But time passes, a small amount but enough for her to compose herself, pale face buried into the Sword’s chest, awaiting the sorrow and tenderness to leave, to feel numb again because it’s better that way. She’s almost decided it, arms tightly wrapped around Deimos’ large figure, trembling and weak when she pulls them back into herself, but she doesn’t leave him. She wants to tell him no, that she doesn’t want to talk about him — but deep down she does wish to, and she knows that Deimos will not push her if that is her answer.

Icy gaze swims with tears among a reddened exterior, head lifting to look at him briefly before she turns to look back at her lantern, so carefully made with love. “Yes.” She answers shakily, voice trembling. “He pushed me down when we first met… I was eight.” She recalls, sifting through the memories of a happier time. “He used the magic he had and hid behind a bush and pushed me over. And laughed. Kianzo and Romina were there, and Ashamin too.
& i bled every time somebody touched me
ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light
does it really matter, anyway?
we all get swallowed eventually
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 32 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 33
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,462
MP:
#3
DEIMOS
The Reaper, the Sword, had always wished he could protect those he cherished from the treachery of the world. He’d done so to the best of his ability, from the shadows, from his abhorrence, tearing apart those who dared to threaten one of his own, sliding from his throne on loathing and contempt, feeding the fire, the rage, the acrimony sizzling in his blood, in his veins, tarnished, nefarious, and belligerent. But it seemed no matter how often he strived, no matter how many times he’d come down the mountain to rescue, to liberate, to devastate, they managed to find a way to become trapped in despair, wounded either inwardly or outwardly. Then naught could be done – and his limited emotional range, his inability to comfort, his plots and maelstroms gone to nothing, meant he couldn’t pluck them out of the depths, out of the fathoms.

And now? Now? He adapted, he molded, he sculpted, he swallowed and consumed the same vitriol, the same venom, felt it gnashed and lashed to his bones, to his marrow, but this time he could press and embrace and proffer; even if it mattered so very little.

The warrior waited, time stretching out as the rest of the crowd carried on, lights and lanterns, what might’ve been beautiful if it weren’t marked by tragedy and vile circumstances. His eyes caught her watching him for a moment, before her head twisted back to embers and ashes, the remains of things they used to have, used to hold, used to place their faith in.

A light smile instead of the drawn line exuded from his features, perhaps inscrutable in the dark, as she deigned to discuss the boy – Ru’in – and all he could recall were large teeth and a dream to be better than the rest. “And what did you do?” He couldn’t imagine Kiada taking the teasing, not from some lad, not from some crowd, Kianzo and Romina some distant hazes, and Ashamin, perhaps the token babysitter of the group. “The only time I truly discussed anything with him was when he came to me, asking to be a crafter.” His gaze lifted, stretching out over the plain, watching the world flicker. “He assured me he was better than the ones we already had.” It spoke of arrogance, but confidence too. Perhaps, had there been more hours, more time, Deimos would've seen the youth's capabilities.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Guild Master/Mercenary

Age: 24 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 17
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,115
MP:
#4
KIADA
ok, ok, i never had wings, only feathers
& i cried like a baby when they left me
He gives her a light smile, and the Harpy begins to feel a small amount better — sharing the memory as it was, sharing the history of the stone mason and the phoenix, and she can’t help it as she puffs out a bit of air in a snort when he asks her what she had done in response. “I wanted to tear him apart.” She replies honestly, the slight shake in her voice as she talks over the lump in her throat. “Kianzo was furious, and it was only Ashamin that kept me from ripping into him.” She imagines the dual toned eyes, the freckles, laughing from beneath the winter trees, the bushes that had held enough foliage left to conceal, but not well.

She sniffles then, listening to him speak of Ru’in’s crafting, the lights from the lanterns shining in her glassy eyes as she focuses on Deimos again and manages an awkward laugh. “That sounds like him.” She grows quiet then, withdrawing the bronze charm from her pocket. “I saw him again and he made a bronze butterfly, and he needed energy from fire to get it to fly. And I… I still had my fire magic on my spine and I thought it was real. The fire turned into foxes and we found out the flame wasn’t real.” She says a bit sadly, how much she had wanted to please him, to surprise him, to prove to him how much of a force to be reckoned with she was. “It only became real in the Rift, and by then he had been lost to me once already.” She tells him quietly, knowing he’s seen the burn scars on her spine.

She offers the bronze charm to Deimos with a sad sniffling smile. “I found this with the note he left me, here. He remembered the foxes.” Her eyes remain on the charm as she offers it, as though she’d never consider parting with it. A trinket she had even carried into the Pit and back again.
& i bled every time somebody touched me
ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light
does it really matter, anyway?
we all get swallowed eventually
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 32 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 33
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,462
MP:
#5
DEIMOS
He listened – a familiar custom, wrought from days spent calculating and pondering duplicitous, seething, or tormenting efforts. It wasn’t the same now; he was just an outlet, a catalyst she could instill memories and bygones upon, and much like a curious scholar, he tilted his head, took everything she had to offer. He wasn’t surprised at all to hear she yearned to rip him to shreds (because that was Kiada, through and through, pieces of shrapnel and fire and not requiring much ignition). The Reaper expected it, just as the world likely predicted him to safeguard or wound, brutalize, terrorize or defend. He hadn’t known the other twin well, Kianzo, furious on his sister’s behalf, and not shocked to hear Ashamin had attempted to be the responsible adult in the ether, even if he likely hadn’t been much older than the rest of the mischievous cluster. At some point, things must have turned – the sparks and instigation flickering off into other fathoms and contortions.

He watched as she withdrew something from her pocket, and he stood as a monolith, a portion of marble and stone, shield and sword in the evening throngs, eyes lifting only for a few moments at a time, before his attention deviated back to her. The boy had made something, bronze, a contortion instilled from his own frame and figure, enchantments riddled along his veins, for the Basin had always proffered cloth from its crafters (strikingly odd; even by Deimos’s standards, bartering with other kingdoms for metal or glass). Perhaps what he’d spoken to the King had been undoubtedly true – eternally capable in his creating abilities.

Fire magic – he recalled the shapes, the twists and turns of her animals, shaping the roots of her persona, her temperament, the ridges informing everyone and everything when to steer clear; warnings brandished along embers, ashes, and coals. He wondered where all that had gone now, if it was lost along portals and beacons, chased away by ghosts, and if she missed the burning remnants at all.

He took the charm when she offered, gazing at the pinnacles of skill, artistry, and competence, watching lights flicker off the alloys. The beast held it with a certain reverence, careful, attentive, mindful of all the things it embodied. “He was right,” his gaze descending upon hers – incredibly talented in his engineering wiles. Then he gave it back, diligent and scrupulous, meticulous in his approach. Deimos didn’t ask about the note, felt it was likely something for her and her alone.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Guild Master/Mercenary

Age: 24 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 17
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,115
MP:
#6
KIADA
ok, ok, i never had wings, only feathers
& i cried like a baby when they left me
He was right.” Comes the rumble from the Reaper, the Sword, and she fights back the sorrow that encompasses her chest. Ru’in had never been one to be able to fine tune anything with his hands, having never been able to pay fine details to things like he wished to. Even the way his mouth had formed, with too large teeth and everything else, words had been hard for him. But he had always tried for her, had always wanted to be better, to combat her own lithe, sweet grace.

He had been her opposite, much like Kianzo.

Where she was swift and agile, he had been a pillar of stone, unmoving and bulky. Where she had been an inferno, he was the water that smoldered and surged beneath, a hidden power to her own fire.

She watches the charm as Deimos inspects it before she sighs to herself. “On… On Longnight, when he died, when I found the charm and the note... I read it before entering the Rathskeller.” She pauses, taking as much time as she needs while her hand trembles in her pocket, clutching the note tightly. “He had asked me to marry him.” Her voice is soft now, quiet, contemplative. She would have, she hopes he knows this. She would have married him in an instant — to wake up wrapped within his brawny, strong body, with freckles and beauty underlining the stony outer exterior.

She would have been happy to.
& i bled every time somebody touched me
ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light
does it really matter, anyway?
we all get swallowed eventually
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 32 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 33
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,462
MP:
#7
DEIMOS
Long Night came next; a subject of impending, formidable, ominous focus, if not the blight machinations wearing themselves into her figure, then it was the threat of monsters, mayhem, and death again, coming for them all. Ru’in had been another victim of its onslaught, either too late, too slow, too unlucky, no one coming to his rescue, no one coming to his aid, amidst the insanity and malice. Deimos said nothing of Amalia’s similar fate: Edrei’s screams ringing out through doors, Bastien and himself opening the aperture, letting every other threat in; the baker lucky to be brought back. Ru’in had not been so fortunate, left outside in the chilling void, in the stark, desolate abyss – naught fortuitous or providential, no gods or divinities, no saving graces upon his threshold. Had he begged and pleaded to be allowed, permitted, to retreat into the sanctuary? Had he banged upon the opening, loud and clear, until his voice eventually receded, punctured by the sound of claws and screams?

It likely did naught to dwell on the nightmarish affair and event; but his mind roamed as she spoke, as she recounted the evening they wandered after Luxere, when Isla died, replaced and reincarnated in a unicorn’s framework, when more and more torturous anomalies descended.

Her voice grew softer, tucked away, hidden, nearly inaudible, and so he lingered back within the clusters of silence, waiting, patient. He had asked me to marry him echoed and bounded along, over the pockets of fire and snippets of lights, lanterns glistening in Stygian pursuits, pondering how to respond. Would you have? hastened forth, but seemed cruel and callous, a possibility no longer present for her, gone on the seething, tormenting lines of Long Night. “He would have been lucky to have you,” the beast proffered instead, a tilt of his head, smile fading on the edges of his mouth. It was difficult to be favored in this world – to plan, to calculate, to do anything but react and move forward. He had no doubt in his mind that she’d find a way – but the amount of other factors were reeling, bestial ministrations, difficult to surmount. You are strong, his piercing eyes said, riveting on her now, in the stillness, in the silence, in the fathoms of constant grief and memories.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Guild Master/Mercenary

Age: 24 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 17
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,115
MP:
#8
KIADA
ok, ok, i never had wings, only feathers
& i cried like a baby when they left me
Had he asked her if she would have, the answer would have been yes. Yes, yes, and a million times yes. Because nobody has ever made her feel safer than she did surrounded by those strong dark, freckled arms, nobody would make her feel better than she did now plagued with the darkness and oil of her soul. The stone, the constant, until he wasn’t. Twice. She chews on her lip for a moment, eyes shuttering slightly as she reaches up to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

He tilts his head, a smile on his lips fading as she looks to him from the bronze charm. “I would have said yes.” She says, unbeknownst she’s answering the question and the statement. She would have. In a heartbeat. But she can’t. And she’s not sure what part of it hurts more, that he asked, or if she saw a future she’d never seen – never been able to imagine for herself, gone once more in the blink of an eye.

I want to make it into a ring.” She tells him softly, eyes drifting to Ru’in’s lantern, solemnly flickering through the lights of the other lanterns as she gnaws aimlessly on her lip.
& i bled every time somebody touched me
ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light
does it really matter, anyway?
we all get swallowed eventually
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 32 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 33
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,462
MP:
#9
DEIMOS
Between the two of them, there were too many ghosts. They’d lived in pathways of hell and survived when others had fallen, toppled, and been stoked in demise; people they cherished, people they loved, people they thought would be there for lifetimes. They’d both found similar ways of coping (violence, upheaval, damned insurrections and seditious spreads, when fires grew into infernos and when enemies stained the floor, bones scattered in their wake). In some way, they were still fortunate to have one another – and he knew this, he knew it, deep down in the marrow of his pitfalls and the semblance of his disasters, that one wasn’t Kiada, and their suffering was shared. The phantoms slipped into his vague, almost non-existent smile, his unspoken inquiry answered. I would have said yes.

But it didn’t matter – and those insinuations hurt too, eternally craving things they couldn’t have, couldn’t bear, couldn’t contain. It’d been parallel movements like that for what felt like centuries and eons, eternity in the bridges and breadth of solitude. He breathed, listening, listening, listening, an ear to everyone and everything because sometimes it was all he could do. He couldn’t bring the boy back – had no powers of resurrection, even when he’d somehow been brandished from a tomb and sent back to live, to suffer, to cherish again.

He could do this for her though.

“I can do that,” an offering, extending his hand again in case she truly wished for the charm to take on a new shape, a symbol, dedication to a lad who no longer breathed, but she’d still loved all the same, before, before, before, and after, after, after.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Guild Master/Mercenary

Age: 24 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 17
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,115
MP:
#10
KIADA
ok, ok, i never had wings, only feathers
& i cried like a baby when they left me
Nobody could bring him back for her – but there was the saying, third times the charm right? Perhaps if she could slip away in the crevices and folds, into another world, he might be waiting for her there. But in order to do that, she’d have to leave this one, and she doesn’t know what hurts more. The possibility, the wanting, the yearning, or giving up what she already has. She has Deimos. She has Amalia. She even has her mother, in a strange way. And yet… Yet, she begins to feel guilty.

Begins to feel as though she’s thinking that they are not enough, even if she knows that it’s a silly thought to think. It saddens her further, and she lets her icy, glassy gaze land on Deimos once more as he offers his hand. He could make it for her, he could create it, and she could live with the memories of it. Her trembling hand lifts again with the charm, absently biting down on her lower lip with her teeth to keep from trembling as she sets it in his hand.

Please.” She asks him, unable to say more for the moment until she takes a haggard breath and wants to crawl into herself. “Can we… Keep the fox on it?” She asks once more, unable to part with the face of the fox she’d fallen asleep to while staring at. While dreaming of futures that weren’t possible anymore. While sleeping alone and waking alone, again and again, night after night.
& i bled every time somebody touched me
ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light
does it really matter, anyway?
we all get swallowed eventually
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 32 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 33
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,462
MP:
#11
DEIMOS
The Sword had no power of resurrection, no matter the title – only that he’d been granted purpose and prestige again, the reasons vastly unknown. New chapters and new lives and sometimes the same primordial patterns still managing to be repeated – except now, where they segmented off on an entirely different route and crusade, incapable of being swayed by those he met, by those he cherished, by those who saw him as more than a blade, more than a weapon. Ru’in had been segmented another life too, and whether or not there could be a third, Deimos had no answer. Instead, he could keep some portion of the boy alive, in the fibers of his ring, in the essence of promises to the Harpy.

He watched her hand tremble, clenching his jaw again, refraining from asking, only listening for the agreement, until his fingers closed over the precious object, and in his silent reverence, ensured it’d be safe in his clutches. His eyes glanced over the crafted charm, wily and cunning, perfected art in a young lad’s ruffian grace, a gilded glow settling amongst his fingers, opening his palm in case Kiada deigned to witness the event.

The warrior wouldn’t weave any new fibers or enamel into the trinket – nodding his assent at her insistence of the fox – having no inclinations of removing anything orchestrated and composed by Ru’in. This had been all the youth’s work, his blood, his sweat, his tears, his toils, his trials, his tribulations, his love, and the Reaper wouldn’t portion, discard, or waste those precious, wholesome, whimsical efforts. There’d been a time it was meant for her and her alone, and she’d have it again.

His incantations unraveled it at first, securing the bronze into a new shape, hastening the little fox to run rampant for a moment or two, as he coiled it all back together, a bronze band, a tiny, copper halo, twisting back into the surface. The vulpine, never to be ignored, hastened to the top, as if it were dashing, a duplicitous little thing with art in its veins and snares on its tongue. Then, furtively, secretly, the beast carved mountains on the inside, as if to remember their time along auroras and basins, never too far from home.

Then he lifted it back to her, gentle for one so large, so irreverent, so seditious, hoping it was enough. “I can change it, if you do not approve.” His gaze riveted back to hers, and waited.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Guild Master/Mercenary

Age: 24 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 17
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,115
MP:
#12
KIADA
ok, ok, i never had wings, only feathers
& i cried like a baby when they left me
He takes it from her, and she watches it akin to a hawk. She knows he won’t destroy it, knows he’ll treat it with utmost care, but there’s a part of her that bleeds and blends for it — unattached, unbidden, not hidden in a pocket but on full display for the world as though it is her secret and her secret alone.

But she wants the world to know how much he means to her, how much it all means to her.

Tears prick at her eyes and she inhaled a ragged breath while she watches, palm open and up as the golden light filters through and removes and adjusts. It’s separated like a spring, and her eyes watch tear filled and unwilling to wipe the tears from her cheeks in case she misses something. And when it gets pieces back together, the fox on full display along the top, more beautiful than any stone that could have been placed there, she watches in silence as he hands it back.

It’s warm, and she cherishes it as her trembling hands slip it from Deimos’ rough hewn calloused hands, gentle because he knows how much it means to her, and she inspects it beneath a glassy gaze. Then, without holding her breath, she slides it onto her ring finger on her left hand, wiping her cheeks with the back of her other hand. And when she looks upon it fully, settled along her pale fingers, her face scrunches up and she presses herself into the Reaper to avoid being seen.

It’s perfect.” She manages to say, muffled and a cross between a breath of relief and a sob. No longer could it be taken from her, not unless she were killed first. “Thank you.
& i bled every time somebody touched me
ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light
does it really matter, anyway?
we all get swallowed eventually
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Guildmaster

Age: 27 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 10 - Strg: 32 - Dext: 32 - Endr: 32 - Luck: 33
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 2,462
MP:
#13
DEIMOS
The inspection was quiet, and he awaited the verdict, if it was too much or not enough or a combination of both – only entreating the bronze with painstakingly, meticulous efforts, careful, heedful, attentive, as vigilant as he’d been in all other circumstances. Her eyes were glassy, and he said naught, standing along their bound threshold, along the glow and glimmer of lantern light and embers for the dead. She took it upon her left hand, silent, hushed marriage vows that would never take place or never be uttered in the open, beneath banners or launching over braziers. It was a chilling and depressing sort of anguish, a series of notes lodged in his chest as he thought of all the others lost along the way – things he had no part in because he’d already been buried and entombed, last breaths taken well before the Rift, well before Kaos, well before eruptions of greed, avarice, and torment.

He proffered and said naught as she pressed herself into him again – a wall, a foundation, a shield, a sword, a shelter, a sanctum for those he cherished, arms coming around to hold as she tucked into his tunic and hid away from the rest of the void. The night was ink and the scenery was gilded, but neither of them were well enough to quantify brushing strokes across canvases. He was alive and whole, chest maneuvering with each breath, listening to undulations and sobs, a mixture of grief and relief, permitting her to stay in his sanctuary for as long as she required – a constant, a monolith, less stone and more warrior. They were bereft and void and it was fine, plunged into their fires and coming out less whole, but stronger, fiercer, mightier, knowing what it was like to lose, the feeling of something being ripped away from their soul. It’s perfect when perhaps it was not; it would’ve been better coming from the lad and not the Reaper, but he nodded anyway, his gaze sweeping over the lands when she granted thanks, when she obliged, when there was naught else to say. “You are welcome,” was in his finality, in the crush and rush of the festival, somber celebrations, not the reel of spring’s blooming, but the notion of winter’s arrival, death and death and death.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Guild Master/Mercenary

Age: 24 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 17
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,115
MP:
#14
KIADA
ok, ok, i never had wings, only feathers
& i cried like a baby when they left me
For a man who spoke little words, he had always made a way to make up for it through his actions. And she didn’t mind, she had grown up with it. Had grown up striving to be noticed and something rather than the girl with flames on her spine and an absent father, whore of a mother. And she had done just that, for him, only to hear the gentle tides of his voice booming over the festival with praise and pride for the Harpy. It was the one thing she cherished most.

And now she had him back, and he was creative and more open to touch and receiving things than he had been before, but his mind remained so similar. It was still him, but at least now she could hug him tight and articulate just how much the man means to her. She could tell him about all of her woes and fears, and they could come up with a plan to make it work and she could move on. A father figure, a mentor, her best friend. Who doesn’t judge when she breaks into him, instead wraps her close and angles her away from prying eyes.

She doesn’t know what she would do without him.

He tells her thank you and she gives him a small pitiful smile in response, pulling away as he does so she can spend the rest of the evening staring at the ring on her finger and making silent promises and vows to a man who’ll never hear them.
& i bled every time somebody touched me
ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light
does it really matter, anyway?
we all get swallowed eventually
Kiada has a large X scar on the right side of her neck.
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3


Forum Jump:


Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)


RPG-D