never let them drain the river of your soul
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Hollowed Grounds Registrar

Age: 30 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Ancient | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 16 - Endr: 29 - Luck: 17 - Int:
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#15
shield for a heart,
and a sword for a tongue
You may choose whether or not to go.” She hears Deimos speak when she helps Amalia with making lunch, eyes drifting toward him and the smug look on his face. She grits her teeth slightly with a huff of a sigh. “No, I don’t have a choice.” She tells him, seeing through the folds and fabrics of the options he’s giving her. But before she can snap more to him, Amalia is moving the food to her table, pulling up a chair and Kiada follows like a diligent child that’s just been told she’s being forced to go to a family function instead of out with her friends.

Her face takes on a small amount of a pout as she glares daggers at Deimos, until Amalia’s voice cuts through, and her head tilts toward the Shield as the rage melds away for explanations. “It means that Deimos is going to walk her down and hand her off to Bastien.” She says quietly, recalling the thoughts of her own father imagining he’d do the same, before she looks down to the sandwich. “Which I suppose is better than what she did with my dad.” She shrugs lightly, poking at it with a trembling hand, though the hunger isn’t there.

As Amalia speaks of the food, her dark brows lift and she looks toward Amalia with a sad smile. “But Ascended don’t eat. Do we have to?” She asks, whines, pouts and pokes at her sandwich.
KIADA
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
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
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#16
DEIMOS
There was more bite, more malice, more menace to her voice now – and Deimos remained indifferent in the face of her rage, despite the notion that he’d purposefully instigated it. He did pause for a moment before continuing on in his quest to irritate and exasperate, to unfold some branch of normalcy between sickened sojourns and failing in the things that mattered the most, if this was some blight melodrama, or regular Kiada melodrama. He absorbed her huff, her sneers, the snap and click of her jaws with an arched brow and folded arms across his chest; almost on a damned, provoking dare, straight back into juvenile tendencies and rampant immaturity when it was required (as if he’d never quite left the boyish predilections behind, just stuffed them aside when bearing down on enemies and opponents). His head tilted, a predator, carnivore’s stare, narrowing his eyes, watching, waiting, for some snatch of claws, missing those days where they could all merely throw flour upon one another and call it festivities, normal, amusing, diverting, not stuck in some wallowing chambers ready to carve one another’s eyes out.

Amalia attempted to ease the kindling and stoking of a fire that he’d readily built for himself and the Harpy, and while the latter glared daggers at him, he shifted into a rogue smile reserved for being monstrously petty. Before he had an opportunity to explain the meaning of their wedding tradition, and by the memories of the last one in Caido, not something they utilized, Kiada had already done the job. He slid into a chair instead of saying anything, pondering if he should be rooted in the bitter nuances now too, at the mention of Rexanna’s other wedding – where she’d left the Basin, the mountains, the peaks, for some ridiculous Elephant King. “I was not invited to that one.” He might’ve been dead by that time though – or rancorous, acerbic, would have refused the invitation on spite alone. The monolith shrugged, grabbing a plate and a sandwich, yielding to appetite with a grateful nod towards the baker, waiting for something else to unfold.
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#17
Amalia

For my part, I know nothing with any certainty
They continue discussing weddings, and Amalia listens with flickering fondness as the pair exchanges friendly barbs, happy to see Kiada brightening a little, allowing Deimos his fire and teasing if only it will entice him to smile. "It's alright, you can hide in the back with me." With no real ties to Rexanna or Bastien, and no particular interest in an Ascended wedding anyway, Amalia can certainly empathize with Kiada's reluctance to attend.

"Hand her off?" Amalia repeats, her tone incredulous as she looks between them. "Like property?" The simple way they explained the particular custom makes her believe it a not uncommon thing, but the whole concept is utterly ridiculous to her, and the baker shakes her head. Glancing sharply at Deimos, the girl narrows her eyes, her face pulled into a contorted frown as she fixes him with something like a glare. "So does that make her your property right now? Who gives Bastien away?"
but the sight of the stars makes me dream
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Hollowed Grounds Registrar

Age: 30 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Ancient | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 16 - Endr: 29 - Luck: 17 - Int:
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#18
shield for a heart,
and a sword for a tongue
Kiada’s flame and fury seeks the Reaper Sword out, icy, black rimmed eyes shooting daggers at him as she pauses to explain. He doesn’t comment on her own comment, so she’s certain the answer to her own question is hanging in the taut air between them. And soon she wonders how long it would take for her to shift into her vulture form or caracal form and hop over the table to knock him over just for that smug look on his face. Ah, but she doesn’t want to ruin what furniture she’s collected, and so she settles for the daggers of her eyes while she explains to Amalia and pushes her sandwich around on the table.

Instead she nods at Deimos’ commentary. “I don’t think anyone came honestly.” She snorts, a rare spurt of laughter that edges the anger for a moment. But Amalia, poor Amalia. She shoots the baker a soft smile with a nod, agreeing to hide in the back with her the best she could. But as her words drift over and Amalia asks about it being like property, Kiada nods in agreement to that too. “Nobody gives Bastien away. He waits for her, and Deimos hands her off.” She explains quietly, lifting the sandwich to take a small bite if only to please the Shield. “It’s mostly tradition now… She isn’t actually Deimos’ property.” She finally adds, shooting a glance toward Deimos, daring him to say otherwise.

But she grows quiet for a moment, a small sigh passing through her lips. “I would’ve had Deimos walk me if Ru’in were still here.” She nearly whispers, eyes drifting along the edges of the bread for the sandwich, as if she could imagine the burly stone mason there beside her, enduring such a fun family lunch.
KIADA
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
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)
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#19
DEIMOS
Perhaps their traditions and customs had been beleaguered down with patriarchal incredulities somewhere along the lines: Deimos hadn’t ever been accustomed to asking. He could presume the wedding had begun with some historical contention or conditions, dowries, only for alliances and kingdom thresholds, naught but missed airs of devotion and ardor. Unfortunately, what he’d accepted as an honor, because he considered Rexanna a branch of his family, and would’ve willingly done anything she’d asked of him, was now considered a blatant insult. He didn’t expect the glares, the sharp nuances, the narrowing of the baker’s eyes, and fought not to be affronted either. Property? Had he ever considered any of them in such a way? He’d been a guard, he’d been a protective fortress, and he’d been an onslaught of war, armor, and Stygian abyss, but he couldn’t recall a time where he’d bound them off, commanded their efforts, or insinuated control over them, even as King, even as Lord – imploring Kiada to come to her mother’s nuptials not-withstanding. His possessions? “Never,” he uttered, his features losing all sense of play, diversions, and devilry, pondering how and where and why he’d errored, only accepting Rexanna’s offer, what she wanted for her ceremony. “It was more of an insinuation of family.” Maybe he wasn’t worth those notes either, then, by these standards of vehemence and vitriol.

The Sword placed his sandwich back down on the plate, appetite gone off into the ether somewhere in the midst of these stumbling, fumbling lines, eyes lingering elsewhere, not at either of them, reticent in his demeanor, retreating back on a tactician’s note, no sense of burrowing and burying himself into a deeper hole. He listened though, quietly, to the I don’t think anyone came honestly in Kiada’s spiral of laughter, if, after everything had fallen apart, it even mattered anymore – Elephant Kings and their misdeeds, in the raw bitterness of losing time and time again. All talk of weddings had somehow lost their keen luster of amusement, and his gaze only snapped back to the Harpy in her hushed murmur, in the slighted, blighted sigh, that she would’ve asked him too, were Ru’in still alive.

The beast choked on something down the back of his throat, and exhaled deeply too, reaching out to give her a shoulder a squeeze, an eternal balm of support, no matter how much they teased, taunted, or ridiculed.
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
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#20
Amalia

For my part, I know nothing with any certainty
Kiada seems rather unperturbed by Amalia's surprise, but Deimos practically shrinks away from it, the mirth and mischief left behind, a stoic glacier filling the space. It chills the Shield, reminds her too much of earlier times, before she was graced with his vibrancy, before she pierced his shrouds.

She feels cold.

She has stepped in something, cast dirt on a custom she does not understand but which clearly has value to them- and for perhaps the first time Amalia truly understands what the Outlanders felt, coming into a strange new world with culture and history that makes little sense. Biting her lip the baker recoils, pulling anxiously at a string on her pants and feeling them drift further and further away. Maybe Emmett had been right: maybe these relationships cannot work. There will always be a history they share that she is not part of, things she does not understand.

It's Kiads's soft confession that rouses the girl, makes her eyes jump back from the table and land upon the harpy. Something catches in the back of her throat; she swallows, tears behind her eyes, reaching out for Kiads's hand as Deimos does the same. "I'm sorry," the baker murmurs sincerely- to both of them, her leg stretching under the table to brush against Deimos' knee, a silent apology in her eyes.

"I suppose we do something kind of similar. Someone from the other side - a parent, usually - ties a bracelet around the wrist of the person joining their family, and promises the other family they will always accept them and take care of them, because they're all a family now." Who would tie a string for her, if the time ever came? "But we do it for both partners. Not just the bride."
but the sight of the stars makes me dream
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Hollowed Grounds Registrar

Age: 30 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Ancient | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 16 - Endr: 29 - Luck: 17 - Int:
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Posts: 1,674 | Total: 13,495
MP: 2712
#21
shield for a heart,
and a sword for a tongue
The Harpy’s gaze lifts from the sandwich she prods at as Deimos’ attention shifts toward Amalia at the question – all antagonizing stance, smirks, appearance, dropped immediately as he utters. And Kiada nods in agreement to what Deimos says. Family, not property. It was different, wasn’t it? Her thoughts drift as she lifts the sandwich to try and take another bite after uttering her sorrows, when her eyes lift again and Deimos is reaching for her again – a large calloused hand squeezing her shoulder, and she gives him a small smile in response.

All taunts forgiven, for now.

Her eyes drift toward the Shield as she, too, grabs her hand, and she gives a small grateful smile to Amalia too. But she’s thankful for the shift in subject, listening as Amalia mentions what the tradition here is. “That sounds nice.” She says softly, because she’d always thought being viewed as equals, viewed as ensuring taking care of one another rather than it being so one sided, was important. She tilts her head toward Deimos as Amalia finishes speaking, sending some of her own fire and taunts back as she slyly looks to the Reaper Sword.

If you have nobody else, I’d tie it for you two.” She says softly, a surprisingly crooked smile crossing her face.
KIADA
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
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)
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Posts: 6,559 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#22
DEIMOS
They’d all crossed some lines today – some misunderstandings, some complex insinuations, some claws and daggers merely for show, for agitation, to rankle and distract rather than muddle in the same mires. He loosened away from his icy hold, his glacial expanse, still so readily accessible, at the baker’s apology, at the press of her leg on his knee. The beast nodded, an acceptance, a modicum of understanding, stoicism replaced in its more irreverent vibes. Some traditions were rooted in medieval customs, and likely could be better suited, altered, or changed; listening as she described what he’d seen at Remi and Ronin’s wedding, joining efforts in equal form. It made more sense than Helovia’s lingering statutes, and the only reason he’d agreed to the modicum of honor had been for Rexanna – familial ties, branches and brambles of yesteryears blinking and blending, better than sorrows, better than upheaval, better than sinking into muck and incapable of pulling themselves beyond the surface.

He nodded at Kiada’s soft response, staring back down at his sandwich, incapable of seeing the snares, the traps, the obvious ploy and scheme he’d walked right into without even noticing. Turnabout was fair play, and the Sword would have to give the Harpy credit, it was a decent onslaught. At her words, his head snapped back up, eyes widening (a brief panic), looking anywhere but at Amalia, because it hadn’t been a discussion yet (yet?), and he suddenly would’ve liked to have blended into the floor, or had the ground swallow him whole to avoid the entire awkward situation. While ler leg remained beneath the table, brushed against his, he conjured up a suitable reply that wouldn’t sound utterly ridiculous, that wouldn’t play into Kiada’s grasp, that wouldn’t fetter away the probabilities before anything had ever come about or been surmised. His gaze narrowed, a certainty in their devilish glare, fully aware of what she was doing – insinuating its efforts in the resolute stare. “Thank you for the offer.” Deimos had a string of other possible choice words for her, but let them rest in his eyes instead.
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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#23
Amalia

For my part, I know nothing with any certainty
He lets her body rest beside his, the apology taken and forgiven in the simple action, the subtle nod. They are all tired, all pressed to limits and fraying edges; all they can give each other is acceptance, the promise to understand and forgive.

Speaking of the strings reminds her of Ronin and Remi's wedding, of simpler times and shared smiles on a beautiful summer night. The honor of performing the ceremony, of being asked to share her customs with them- it had honored the girl more than she could say. And now there will be another wedding, and perhaps more in the seasons to come: new loves, new loves, new pages in the stories of this place. She would have tied Kiads's string, would have officiated in the eyes of the gods. Amalia knows a little of Ru'in, but she knows a lot about loss. To lose one so very beloved...

Her gaze slips over to Deimos, and it is at the behemoth she is looking when Kiada makes her offer, and Amalia realizes for the first time that it could well be her turn. She watches as something close to panic crosses Deimos' face, a part of her chest squeezing and releasing with emotions she cannot name. Does he even want that for them?

Does she?

She glances away as he rumbles an answer, too flustered to contribute anything herself. With nothing better to do with her hands Amalia grabs her sandwich, shoving a large bite into her mouth, painfully aware of Deimos' leg which lingers on her as she eats.
but the sight of the stars makes me dream
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Hollowed Grounds Registrar

Age: 30 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Ancient | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 2 - Strg: 18 - Dext: 16 - Endr: 29 - Luck: 17 - Int:
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Posts: 1,674 | Total: 13,495
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#24
shield for a heart,
and a sword for a tongue
For all the talk of loss and sorrow, there’s a small amount of happiness that blooms beneath it all as her comment hits home. Eyes lift toward Deimos, then to Amalia as the awkward thank you and silence comes over the group. And suddenly, Kiada is smug. She thinks this is how families should be, and she can’t help but to relish in it all. She appreciates it immensely, enjoying the way a couple of little words could make things so awkward.

And then she realizes she actually is hungry. And lifts her sandwich to finish eating it in her smug silence while Auni returns from stashing away Deimos’ bag to sniff along the floor for crumbs that may have fallen.
KIADA
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


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