prehistoric
For James
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: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#1
DEIMOS
Where the relinquished condemnations, the fiendish incantations, had been with him since his birth, a venomous, toxic rapture in his veins, the eagle was foreign, was new.

It didn’t bear cold malevolence, it didn’t carry the inveigling iniquities, it wasn’t so ruthlessly fixated on rampant decadence and argent domination. Instead, it was purely rapacious and predatory, a carnivore inclination, unburdened by the fettering, antagonistic pose and prose of man. It was instinctual and daring, potent puissance and precision because that was how animals lived and breathed and died, devouring what they could, when they could; no need for hedonistic elations, no outcry for treachery, no need for unholy possession. It was carnage and demolition in simpler forms, a spread of wings, a cry of barbarity, or a silent, smoldering promise, hushed brushstrokes of the inevitable.

Except, combined with Deimos the Reaper, Deimos the Sword, the natures were overwhelmed, stained, and noble, bearing temptation and contemplation in reticence, in sinking rapiers –

Enticed by the few, remaining brave (or stupid) fish clinging to shorelines and shallow gulleys not iced over, he sought to test, to examine, properties, balances, and capabilities of the beast he now inhabited, he presently was, things spiraled from his own wake, not the outside walls, not the swords, not the daggers, not the knives. These were his own weapons.

He drifted down, wings spread, a sable ghost in the morning air, extending his talons to linger over the veneer, over the surface, as if briefly walking on its chilling pinnacles. Then he reached, reached, reached, intending to pluck at scales, to grab hold of a future meal.

Except, then there was nothing in his grasp, and he had to pulse, flap plumage and feathers, ascend again. He’d missed.

A feral first try. He repeated the ventures, sailing in on the wind, attempting to grab shimmering skin beneath racing currents, to clench and stab into a being not yet spooked by his previous endeavors. His talons, his claws, sunk further, a piercing, searing fervor, persistence in a monster of animosity and callousness. Movement, a panicking venture, useless in its prey clarity, in his snatching motions, sang the meticulous bounty of success. Tightening claws like daggers, further and further into his grip as he swept along chilling winds, ensured the fish met its demise, sent to the gallows quickly, efficiently, sudden and swift.

Then, he dropped it in the bucket he’d left along the shore, intending to return and repeat the hunt.
gatekeeper of an endless war
where lines between right and wrong
don't exist anymore
James Aiféala
Thief / Halenani Prostitute

Age: 32 | Height: 6" | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: N/A - Strg: 8 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 19 - Luck: 14 - Int:
Played by: Odd Offline
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Posts: 215 | Total: 16,193
MP: 0
#2
trial & error
What it was and what it looked like to James were two very different things. What it as, was ever-prepared Deimos making sure food was provided for. But what it looked like to James was a free lunch.

Slithering through the grass, the small and slender snake sipped at the air with his tongue. Fish wasn't really his most favourite, but beggers and choosers and all that. Not that James was a beggar by any means. Oh no, nothing so cumbersome. He was a thief, pure and simple and right now the unattended fish were simply begging to be scooped up. Besides, Deimos looked like he had the fishing thing down. He wouldn't miss a few fish.

Probably.

And so, slithering to the bucket, the snake slid his way up the side and went to reach for a fish.
but mostly error. like, a shitload of error

Coding base by Sky!
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: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#3
DEIMOS
It became familiar, routine, to drift downwards, to plummet, to sink his talons and grab hold of scales, refracting in the depths of light, in the shudder of winter’s haunting brush. Rinse and repeat, diving low enough to practice precision in dropping the fish in the basket, then ascending again, breathing in the essence of fluid predator persistence.

Except, this time, there was another lingering beside his clutch; scavenging, hunting something they hadn’t gained or obtained on their own. How many times had he met such individuals? How many times had he attempted to thwart them? Thieves and swindlers; not one of his own (cloaks and daggers, rampaging for information, for future assailments). Avian eyes narrowed, and were he some other beast, he would’ve growled, would’ve grated, would’ve uttered some other form of warning. In the Basin, he’d ensued singular signs, alerts, and signals – then unleashed unholy machinations. As an eagle, he could’ve screeched or exalted some bellowing, tempestuous torrent from his mouth.

But Deimos didn’t believe this one warranted impending doom.

Swift, keen, and measured, constant calculations bombarding his soul (he might’ve been a bird, but he was still the Sword, still the Reaper), he descended again, a vicious, mighty force sinking through the air. Talons outstretched, uncoiling, unfurling from their tucked intervals, skimming over the surface of his basket, he intended to pluck the snake from its sanction, and toss it aside, through the chilling ether.
gatekeeper of an endless war
where lines between right and wrong
don't exist anymore
James Aiféala
Thief / Halenani Prostitute

Age: 32 | Height: 6" | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: N/A - Strg: 8 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 19 - Luck: 14 - Int:
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 215 | Total: 16,193
MP: 0
#4
trial & error
The bird might have been near-silent in its fall from the skies, but still it carried a distinctive scent that set off warning bells in the snake's mind. Sounds that sounded like FUCK! and YOU FEATHERED BASTARD, and WHAT WILL I HAVE FOR DINNER NOW?

Slithering as fast as he could (with a fish clamped firmly in his jaws), James felt the cool constriction of talons on his slippery noodle-body and immediately went limp. He might have been able to bite the bird's belly from this vantage point, but that would have meant dropping his meal. And so, like any good addict, James closed his eyes, sent out a barrage of weak-willed prayers to any god who might be listening, and basically just hoped for the best.

As his body hit the ground he was thrown back into his own skin, which today, was wrapped in a pink skirt (it had once been a shirt, but was now being worn low on his hips) and a shirt that looked basically like a bit of netting. Very fashion-forward, in a hobo-chic sort of way. "OY!" The snake bleated, spitting out the fish into his hands and glaring up at the bird. "Y'can't just go throwin' folks around like that." He added, melodic accent making him sound anything but intimidating. Or maybe it was the fact that he was a scrawny alcoholic sitting in clothing made from garbage.
but mostly error. like, a shitload of error

Coding base by Sky!
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: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#5
DEIMOS
Talons gripped on snake scales and coiled ruminations; in his predator mind, it had been just one more threat to their collection of impending meals, sustenance for those who’d require it in the long evenings to come. There’d been no thought or insinuation of it being another attuned; and as he rose above, into the skies, upon releasing the heathen, his bird eyes might have widened a fraction. He’d believed it to be another scavenger, another forager, intending to fill their own stomach on instinct and opportunity. Perhaps he hadn’t been mistaken – as this individual was seemingly convinced it had a right to snag, procure, and purloin. Deimos had lived amongst enough dramatics of thievery in his previous lifetime to ever want to encounter it again – a shell, a shadow, a vessel on borderlines, trapping would-be absconders yearning, intending, to inveigle and wind their way into victory, triumph, or merit. The beast had no intention of permitting it to happen under his watch.

The figure was wholly unfamiliar though; some pink skirt and netting embalmed inhabitant. Scrawny. Too lean and slim for his tall frame. He wasn’t about to judge based on clothing, but his less than intimidating stance, his meager means, only spoke of how many and how often the fellow shifter had missed nutrition and provisions. The eagle landed nearby, affixing his gaze on the stranger with an avian head-tilt, listening to the shouts, eyeing the fish he’d somehow managed to clutch and hold in the frenzy. Maybe it was his embezzling skills, eternally on the prize, no matter the chance of injury.

So Deimos shifted back – behemoth and monolith, guarding the rest of his wares, standing close to the basket, folding his arms across his chest. He felt naught at the glares or the lecture: he would do it again without hesitation, only arching a brow and ensuring his features remained nonchalant, unimpressed. “Then you should not steal.”
gatekeeper of an endless war
where lines between right and wrong
don't exist anymore
James Aiféala
Thief / Halenani Prostitute

Age: 32 | Height: 6" | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: N/A - Strg: 8 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 19 - Luck: 14 - Int:
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 215 | Total: 16,193
MP: 0
#6
trial & error
"Ayy, who's stealin'?" The snake musically croaked back, still rubbing the back of his head. Whatever comically wounded expression he had disappeared at the full sight of Deimos. Indeed, James had to tip his head back to get the full measure of the man as he towered over all the land. Or so it seemed, anyways.

"Listen. I saw a bucket and no one around. It's survival of the fittest, mate. Though clearly you know that." He chortled, eyeing Deimos' impressive physique without an ounce of embarrassment, bouncing his eyebrows to punctuate his point.
but mostly error. like, a shitload of error

Coding base by Sky!
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: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#7
DEIMOS
Delivered from the blasts
The attempt at humor didn’t instigate any chuckles or rounds of laughter from the General – the slightest arch to his brow was the only noticeable alteration on his nonchalant, dispassionate features. The thief had already found some weasel contortions to amend his claims – a bucket with no one around – except the eagle flying above, placing fish in the aforementioned object, one after another after another. He fought off an eye roll; no time, no patience, for those who sought to prey on another’s work and ambitions, experiences with those who snagged and purloined and poached never very high on his list of favorite moments, a constant guard, a perpetual sentinel. The survival of the fittest line caused a narrowing of his gaze (it wasn’t false; but sometimes the world changed and altered such courses with compassion, with benevolence; his heart wasn’t piercing to either of those in this stretch), but the rest of the stranger’s actions left him momentarily speechless and befuddled – an obvious perusal of his form and physique. His brows furrowed. “You cannot hunt on your own?” What good was a snake with no predator abilities? Or had he simply found something easier, requiring less energy, to prey upon, rather than wasting valuable energy and resources? There wasn’t much to the beast in either regard: tall and lanky, somewhat gaunt.
the last of a line of lasts
James Aiféala
Thief / Halenani Prostitute

Age: 32 | Height: 6" | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: N/A - Strg: 8 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 19 - Luck: 14 - Int:
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 215 | Total: 16,193
MP: 0
#8
trial & error
"Not successfully, no. You might say...my talents lay elsewhere." The snake said, wiggling fingers lined with multiple rings and poorly rendered tattoos. Though just what this was supposed to signify was completely unclear. Besides, the type of beastie that he was might frighten a few house-wives, but a rat snake was about as unimpressive in the animal world as a mayfly.

"Besides, what is hunting really. Whose to say taking those fish wasn't hunting? What's it matter that you took them from the water and I took them from a bucket. Just a different sort of container if y'think about it." Babbling easily away the snake shot the Sword a charming smile despite the oppressive lack of amusement wafting off of the bigger man.
but mostly error. like, a shitload of error

Coding base by Sky!
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: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#9
DEIMOS
Delivered from the blasts
For a moment, in the mannerisms, in the artful knack for ignoring the actual notions, Deimos was reminded of Thranduil. The Thief always had a particular asinine way about him, deliberately misleading or striving for information; the Reaper had treated him with about the same amount of nonchalance, but because the gilded beast had been talented and useful in his tactics, in his machinations (even when he was particularly irksome), he was permitted to stay amongst mountains and other vicious parameters. He arched his brow again at some unknown insinuation, the stranger’s fingers wiggling (some notion of purloining once more?), leaving him not much to work with but the duplicitous void. It wasn’t making him laugh.

Instead, he meandered away, drawing his attention back to the bucket, less fish contained than before, courtesy of rat snakes. While the other would be fed, the same might not be said for whomever the meat was designated for – the Sword had merely intended to stockpile and serve as needed within whatever domicile they decided to congregate in for Long Night. “What you did is called scavenging,” or stealing, but the fiend had already made his point ages ago. Perhaps he ought to shift back and start over; though his eyes cast back upon the snake, unamused, but plotting regardless. “I could teach you. Then you would not have to depend on others.” Unless that was something he preferred to do and had fueled himself on a lifetime of it.
the last of a line of lasts
James Aiféala
Thief / Halenani Prostitute

Age: 32 | Height: 6" | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: N/A - Strg: 8 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 19 - Luck: 14 - Int:
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 215 | Total: 16,193
MP: 0
#10
trial & error
Were Thranduil to know of the comparison, however slight, he would have rolled over in whatever gilded grave he found himself in. Had James known of it, he might have been rather pleased. The golden thief did have rather pretty hair, after all.

"Right, well!" James chimed cheerfully. "Learn somethin' new every day!" Meaning to slither off, with scales or feet it hardly mattered, the snake abruptly stopped at the shocking offer of tutelage. "Oh" He all but purred, flashing long lashes at the Sword. "Go on then. Can'ya teach me to fly as well? That'd be a right trick."
but mostly error. like, a shitload of error

Coding base by Sky!
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: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#11
DEIMOS
Delivered from the blasts
Perhaps Deimos had thought of Thranduil’s recollection and comparison simply to ensure he’d make the gilded beast uncomfortable, even for a just a moment in time. Turn-about was fair play, and he’d made the Reaper cringe more than once.

“Doubtful,” the Sword replied, though he seemed to have thawed a little, withholding a snort at the presumption of learning something new, or that the snake turned human was actually eager to learn – a jocular motion or two attached. There was a glimmer of a snicker on his mouth, but he said naught else until his palms had started to glow, kindling silent incantations and ministrations between his calloused hands. When he was finished, he carried a long spear, slightly barbed on the tips; its intended purposes not for pure weaponry (and he was somewhat less eager now to hand the other man a munition; perhaps he could always break if need to save the rest of the human race) – but for hunting.

He meandered to a nearby rock, only a swiveling head nod beckoning the stranger closer. In demonstration, he lifted the spear slightly, at a slant, waiting for the glimmer of scales nearby; on an abrupt movement, the movement and motion of tails, he plunged, rapid and swift, before extracting it with a fish dangling, trembling, shuddering, on the end. Taking it off the tip, he added the fish to his bucket, and then handed the spear to the man. “Wait until you see the scales. Hold it at an angle, then sink it in quickly.” Then he stepped back, casually observing.
the last of a line of lasts
James Aiféala
Thief / Halenani Prostitute

Age: 32 | Height: 6" | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: N/A - Strg: 8 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 19 - Luck: 14 - Int:
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 215 | Total: 16,193
MP: 0
#12
trial & error
"Ahhh well, no harm in askin'." The snake tittered. Though as a spear began to warp and form within the Sword's hands, James let his jaw drop comically, though his expression was one of proper awe. "Well fuck me. Ain't many around like you, mate. And I don't just mean all of this—" Vaguely, one multi-ringed and tattooed hand waved at Deimos, indicating his impressive form and presumably appearance.

Swallowing and for once keeping his mouth shut, the thief edged nearer, peering over into the water curiously. Deimos' example was text-book which of course made it look all too easy. "Scales, yeah. Know a bit about those." James said with a wink, before taking the spear. Trying to twirl it in his hands and nearly dropping it, he flashed the Sword an apologetic if not boisterous grin before perching himself on a rock and looking down into the water.

"Scales. And then sink it in quickly." He let the lascivious flavour of his accent marinate on the words for just a moment before shooting Deimos a grin and bouncing his eyebrows. Turning back, James waited.

Waited...

..and..!

Thrusting the spear, with no thought or accountability for the rest of his body, the snake followed the spear into the water. Floundering around like the fish he was after, James splashed and flailed, eventually raising his spear triumphantly. "Ah HAH!" He cackled, turning up to find that, instead of a fish on the end of his spear, he'd captured his own shoe.
but mostly error. like, a shitload of error

Coding base by Sky!
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: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#13
DEIMOS
Delivered from the blasts
To say Deimos was bewildered by the extended compliment was likely an understatement – the Thranduil comparison was extracted almost immediately – his eyes widening for a moment before he strived to regain his composure. Except, perhaps, there were quite a few of those like him, embedded and embossed with magic, with fluid contortions and incantations, ready to enchant, ready to enthrall, ready to encounter anything and everything. Remi was far better with his skills, and the Sword was ready to argue the entire point, except the stranger had moved on, and the moment passed, bizarrely, strangely, and the beast was forced to try and understand the motions, the notions, behind all of it. Accept it, with a nod, with a concealed snort once more.

He watched, waiting for the strike, for the nuances of his tutelage, visibly molding a small, slightly feral smile along his lips as the man insinuated he knew about scales, and striving not to snicker a little when the twirling action nearly lost the spear in the water, pondering if maybe this had been a mistake.

On the thrust of the spear, on the action, on the motions and maneuvers, the General thought the other Attuned would have it. Except – he followed the weapon into the water, and down, down, down he went, flailing, splashing, a triumphant veneer sticking to his visage, regardless of the nuances and notions placing him in this strange upheaval. For a moment, Deimos was uncertain of what to do at all – stunned, temporarily, by the amount of foolishness, ineptitude, and jocular aptitude, attitude, despite it all.

He couldn’t hide the grin this time, couldn’t hold the stoic enamel and marble sanctions together. One look at that damned shoe at the end of the barbed spear, the wild, victorious cackling, and he lost it. His smirk dissolved into a howl of laughter, exuberant despite every muscle trying to hold it back. He crouched low on his rock in case he fell in or opted to roll on his side when his stomach hurt from the waves of chuckles, and they kept returning every time his eyes segmented upon the adornment. “Well done,” he managed, wiping at an eye, all attempts at smothering his amusement now plainly gone. Then he offered a rough, calloused hand, extending it towards the man and his prize, proffering in attempt to get them out of the water.
the last of a line of lasts


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