felled in the night
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Guild Master/Mercenary

Age: 23 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 16
AUNI - Regular - Luxere
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 679
MP:
#1
it's 2am and i took 17 shots of vodka trying to forget your name
but the only name i forgot was mine. and sober —
She’s getting better, every day. But she still can’t wash the blackness from her body, from her eyes, from her being. She feels oily and broken, and overall completely exhausted. But she’s stayed up the night prior, baking and using the tricks that Amalia has taught her, to prove to herself that she’s better. That she can do this, rein in the control she needs to become a normal person now. And in her endeavors, she puts together a few honey bear claws, adorned with chocolate snowflakes in the center of each one.

Because in the morning, she’s going on an apology trip. First stop, Deimos. The one who probably deserves it the most. She knows what she’s done, the entire time of being sick. And she knows that it’s not enough of an apology, but at least it might be something. So when morning breaks, she drifts toward the house at the end of the street, with Auni by her side – holding a bag that she doesn’t recognize, but he seems far too excited to have his companion back, and to give the gift of whatever it is back.

So with baited breath, she thinks about waiting before entering his home. To tell him who it is and wait… But no. She won’t, she opens the door and slips in, sunk in eyes searching the room for him as she closes the door behind her and the Luxere. She has bags under her eyes, and she’s far skinnier than she once had been. Her muscle no longer built up, and the veins around the scar in her neck are jet black, but she’s here and she’s better.

Deimos? Are you home?” She calls out quietly, softly, anxiety making her shoulders sprout feathers beneath the fur scarf she wears.
— or drunk, you're the only thing on my mind
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
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,613
MP:
#2
Deimos
He’d been up before the first streaks of dawn, out of habit, out of routine, out of necessity, pulled from warm beds to hunt along darker shrouds and twilight haze; reaching and plucking out animals courageous enough to sear along the cold, but daft enough to be caught by his machinations. The latest had been another grouse, separated from its flock, a bit too dim, a thinning out of weakened, unintelligent birds; already plucked, skillfully, tactfully, waiting for further ministrations. Then he’d carefully built a fire to ward off the morning’s chill, setting out more firewood by the hearth, listening to the heating crackle, proceeding to go about his day with little fanfare. Zuriel, apparently intending to be spoiled, nestled her way along the rug before the flames, and likely would’ve stretched herself out as the embers caught and the kindling snapped; had there not been a noise at the door, a scuffling along the unlocked aperture.

Uncertain who it could be at this hour, for Amalia had long since gone to the bakery, the unicorn waited as Deimos wandered upstairs, retrieving who knows what, rising from her prior position, gazing steadily as the door swung open. Likely greeting Kiada were her surprised, somewhat widened eyes, before meandering closer upon inspection – the girl familiar, there when she’d first been rescued by the Sword, and therefore a comforting individual. Her maw, her muzzle, went straight for the youth’s shoulder, where she pushed and pressed and acted obnoxious, intending to be granted some scratches and pets.

Deimos, for his part, only heard the words as they drifted along his house, dipping back down the stairs moments after, peeking his head around the wall – scrutinizing eyes eternally guarded at the notion of someone slipping into his corridors, his shelter, his sanctum, then altering with an inhale, an exhale. Kiada’s presence emboldened him instead of ensuring his nefarious, treacherous capabilities, she was free to invade his home, tilting his head to gauge his curiosity, his intrigue, and her health. “Yes,” he proffered in response, shaking his cranium, meandering further down and into the fold, arching his brow at Zuriel and her antics, before his eyes segmented back to the Harpy. She appeared better; though there was a gauntness to her, the strike of illness still chasing down remnants of blood and ichor. “How are you feeling?” The mountain meandered closer, reaching out in familiarity towards Auni, fingers intending to scratch along antlers and his cranium – briefly distracted by the recognized item in the luxere’s mouth. How? “Is that my bag?”
i rule the stars, not the other way around
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Guild Master/Mercenary

Age: 23 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 16
AUNI - Regular - Luxere
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 679
MP:
#3
it's 2am and i took 17 shots of vodka trying to forget your name
but the only name i forgot was mine. and sober —
The Harpy doesn’t know what to expect, but it certainly isn’t Zuriel approaching. She expects to see the stone face of the Reaper, the Sword, likely wondering if she’s come to attack him again. But she hasn’t, and this time she’s brought gifts like he had done for her, not that long ago. She only hopes he accepts them. But instead, she’s greeted by the dark fur of the unicorn, and Auni happily bounds in to say hello as well – while Kiada gives a soft, rare smile to the unicorn as her muzzle presses into her shoulder and begins to act up.

The girl snorts, reaching up to scratch behind the unicorn’s ears briefly, before Deimos’ voice reaches her ears. A simply yes, and her eyes lift to find his own blue’s. Soon enough, he reaches the base of the stairs and Auni is darting for him, bounding with clacking hooves against the floor. But he asks her how she’s feeling, and she shrugs her shoulders in a distinctly Kiada way, before giving him a small smile. “Better, day after day.” There’s a light pause before she approaches. “I wanted to apologize, officially.” She begins, only as Deimos grows distracted by the Luxere, happily shaking around the bag around his neck.

O-Oh, yes, I think he probably squirreled it away when you and Amalia came over.” She says lightly, a small frown finding her face. “But as you know, I wasn’t… right, before. I didn’t know it was yours to give it back.” There’s a soft exhale as she approaches the Luxere and Deimos, watching with soft, brighter eyes as she helps Auni remove the bag and sets it on the floor. Happily, the Luxere sticks his nose straight in and pulls out his first gift, a stick that looks distinctly like a person, with even a small bit of moss around the top that almost looks like hair.

And after, Auni pulls out a piece of parchment, a wash of blue and white along its surface while his nub of a tail wags in excitement. Likely something he swiped from the Artist’s Guild when Kiada helped with the decorations of Rexanna’s wedding. The Harpy’s eyes lift toward Deimos with a small shrug. “I guess he also brought you gifts.” She says almost wearily, reaching toward him with her small box of bear claws adorned with snowflakes in them to show him.
— or drunk, you're the only thing on my mind
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
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,613
MP:
#4
Deimos
Zuriel was incredibly speculative about the luxere – both noble creatures of the forest, enamored and intrigued by the steady glow of his antlers. She had half a mind to place her lips along the otherworldly spikes just to see what they felt like, but some rumble of disapproval shot through their bond. She mentally eyerolled, sneered at the Sword, and then pushed against the smaller stag’s shoulders, before maneuvering her way into Kiada’s scratches, leaning, leaning, leaning, imploring for more even as the humans interacted.

Deimos only inclined a brow towards his companion, before settling his gaze back upon Kiada, wandering towards the fire, shifting a few logs back into place. Auni’s presence was more than welcome, and while one hand tended to the flames, the other scratched over fur and ears, familiar and soft and reminders of better days, before stretches of upheaval, before destruction, before demolition of things they’d always held near and dear, close to their chests, away from storms and melees. But these events had known where to pierce, where to hurt, and though he’d long since pardoned her, she apparently hadn’t done so to herself. All he could ask for was what she’d already declared – on the mend, surging towards fixtures of the Harpy before pestilence and disease had rippled its way through her. “No need,” he proffered, hands free of the luxere to be raised in a beseeching faction. “You were already forgiven.”

That Auni had his bag was an interesting notion – not entirely misplaced, but snagged by the cheeky thing. “It is fine,” he murmured, snorting at the notion, tilting his head, fingers gently reaching for it to be returned. With surprise, however, the gilded deer seemed to have hoarded a multitude of things inside the sack, and his eyes widened a fraction, smile endeavoring to come back into play as little gifts were removed, displayed, and offered. Within his palms, he suddenly had a stick shaped like a person (where did he find such a thing, especially adorned with moss hair detailing?), and parchment, splashed and speckles with blue and white, fanciful, decorated. He sat upon the floor, descending from his previous crouch, to explore and investigate them with a more diligent air, the Cheshire grin embellished even as he had no idea what to do with the wares. “Thank you,” he uttered and rumbled to the companion, content with even being a notion, a thought, in the little beast’s mind. Then his gaze shifted back up to Kiada, a box extended in his direction, another reception of presents and bestowals he’d never expected. “You did not have to-“ he started, the devilish impulse to his lips waning a little into a stunned measure, accepting the offering into his lap, amongst the other accords.

His heart was touched and moved, thawing a little in the breadth and expanse of his chest, wistful and nostalgic as he glanced within, staring upon the bear claws (because it was likely known by now that he had a sweet tooth and frequently snagged Amalia’s pastries at any opportunity), the snowflakes pressed into their center causing the briefest of sighs. He swallowed down the choking, cloaking memories, shifting his stare back to her. “Thank you. You made these yourself?” There was a notion of pride instilled in the insinuation, respect and honor for her talents, for her capabilities.
i rule the stars, not the other way around
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Guild Master/Mercenary

Age: 23 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 16
AUNI - Regular - Luxere
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 679
MP:
#5
it's 2am and i took 17 shots of vodka trying to forget your name
but the only name i forgot was mine. and sober —
So far, the Luxere adores Zuriel. And while the Harpy and Sword speak, exchange the small amount of an apology that Kiada wishes to give, she pauses when he offers that she doesn’t need to – something within her relieves with the admission. Because she’s here and significantly less blighted than she was before. And she’s stronger every day. And the fact that she cares, so deeply, for him and the small little family she’s been welcomed into, that she wanted to be sure the one she’s hurt the most knows it wasn’t her – not entirely.

And so she nods, watching while Auni pulls out his gifts. There’s likely more gifts within that Deimos will find throughout a thorough exploration of the bag, but those two were his favorites that he knew he had to show the man. The Luxere’s nub of a tail wiggles with excitement at Deimos’ thank you, not really understanding, but enjoying the softness of the words despite it all. And he edges a bit closer toward him, nudging the bag toward him to see what he might pull out next – but the Sword is distracted by Kiada’s own offerings.

And she steps toward him, sitting along the floor beside him and the fire as she shrugs off her jacket and hands him the basket. She has wounds from thorns, the one from Melita that’s finally beginning to heal, and the edge of the scar along her neck is significantly less black than it had once been. And she gives him a gentle smile when he inspects the gift she’s brought him. It’s no secret to her and their tiny family his fondness for such delights, and she gives him an almost knowing look before his blue gaze meets her own. “Yeah, I’ve been learning from Ama.” She says softly, though her cheeks redden slightly at the sound of pride within the reverb of his voice.

They’re not as good as hers are, but I tried… And that’s what matters, right?” A small smile as she wraps her arms around her legs and waits for him to try one should he want to.
— or drunk, you're the only thing on my mind
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
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,613
MP:
#6
Deimos
As the Reaper, he hadn’t always been so prone to forgiveness. It depended on the individual, on those who thorned and nettles, on which inhabitant scorned. Sometimes they were merely given abhorrence and hatred, a grudge, a petty, peevish, petulant rebuttal for all the notions and motions the other had sought to undermine. Others were granted ultimatums, ominous, foreboding warnings before he struck. Otherwise it might’ve been nonchalance and reticence, a vicious haze of detachment and apathy, indifferent to their suffering, to their wails, to their pleas; hard-hearted when disappointed, when another of his was beaten or mutilated, when misery was delivered in a vengeful root tenfold. But not for Kiada – his veracity implored and segmented, absolved, pardoned, and exonerated long ago; not in control of herself, compelled to violent hazes because of a disease, and not some other outlandish excuse (greed, avarice, or bold, indulgent ambitions). He’d been wounded, he’d been marred, but he’d recovered. The world could be far worse.

And they would face it all again.

He wouldn’t bow. He wouldn’t break. He wouldn’t bend. Neither would she. Neither would any of them.

They ended up huddled together along the hearth, Zuriel taking it upon herself to linger straight back into her prior position, eyeing the gifts in speculation and idle curiosity. Deimos, meanwhile, was covered in offerings and bestowals, a rarity, to be surrounded in presents rather than stares, hisses, or some other ill effect. He breathed in as his heart felt strangely, oddly full, hands stretching back into the bag at the luxere’s tail wag and insistence. Stifling another laugh, and therefore ensuring it was a smile, a grin, his fingers clutched some metallic surface, and bringing them out of the sack, revealed a small bell. “Where did you get this?” He murmured with a laugh, shaking the object to reveal its singsong sound. Like a game, each surprise truly defied his expectations, and soon he had more to his pile, including a beautiful rock (he could see why Auni was enticed by it), and an assortment of feathers. “Nicely done,” proffered back to the luxere, and another healthy dose of head scratches.

His eyes flicked back over to Kiada for a moment, the smile fading as he calculated and pondered. “Zuriel can heal you,” his glance segmenting on scars, on the thoughts of thorns embedded, “if you need it.” The unicorn raised her head, somewhat proud and smug, waiting for agreement to the task or nothing at all. To hear the Harpy had been learning from Amalia’s techniques wasn’t a surprise, and then capable of putting her own spin on the desserts. His smile rekindled, much too content despite everything going on around them, hanging onto the notions for as long as he could. “Yes, that is what matters.” That they tried. He would rather fall apart into a thousand deaths during actions and maneuvers, than ever flicker into nothing on the sidelines. Taking a break from the revelations contained within the bag, the Sword broke apart a small piece of a bear claw, placing it in his mouth, chewing reflectively. Once he’d swallowed, satisfied, the warrior announced his review. “Delicious.”
i rule the stars, not the other way around
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Guild Master/Mercenary

Age: 23 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 16
AUNI - Regular - Luxere
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 679
MP:
#7
it's 2am and i took 17 shots of vodka trying to forget your name
but the only name i forgot was mine. and sober —
If there’s one thing Kiada has just recently found out, it’s that she really enjoys the true laugh Deimos has. But she’ll never say it, never admit it and give him the fodder to tease her. But seeing his smile, his laugh, his happiness at the end of everything she’s caused their small makeshift family, it’s a far better forgiveness than she could have put into words. Auni helps too, his antlers pulsing with the cheer that he receives from the Sword – his nub of a tail wiggling excitedly as he dances on his front two feet happily.

And he easily leans into the Sword’s touch for the head scratches, long pale ears flickering with the movement as he brushes his forehead along rough calloused hands. But when Deimos turns his attention back to the Harpy, she’s sitting there alongside the hearth, eyes soft and gentle (no longer predatory and shadowed) view the Luxere with a slight smile. She only looks up when he mentions that Zuriel can heal her, and she nods lightly looking toward the dark unicorn with a huff of laughter. “Sure, why not.” She offers, eyeing the unicorn with just as much of a fun playful look as she had given Deimos on her better days.

Poor Zuriel will have her hands full, with Kiada becoming better and back to normal day by day.

But the Harpy was far too focused to see how the Sword would like her pastries, and her arms tighten slightly along her legs as she draws them up to her chest, bright icy eyes still ringed and veined with a small amount of black, but clearer than they’ve ever been, scan over his face as he bites down. And she waits for the moment of either, a fake face and a smile to make her feel better, or a true smile.

Because she certainly would know the difference.

She’s pleased when he tells her it’s delicious, and she gives him a bright grin. “Good. They’re poisoned.” She jests with a wink before pausing lightly. Is it too soon for those jokes? She did attack him recently, and she huffs a small laugh before withdrawing lightly. “I’m kidding, they’re fine… In case you thought I was serious…” A light trail off as she glances toward the flickering flames in the hearth.
— or drunk, you're the only thing on my mind
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
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,613
MP:
#8
Deimos
Laughter hadn’t been an easy sound for the Reaper to make. Everything had been too harsh, too raw, too vast, emotions kept under wraps, tethered, tied, and locked away for ventures in isolation, for desolate irreverence and despair. Voicing his sentiments and granting them aloft to anyone at all would’ve been a difficult thing to do at the best of times; he might’ve permitted fond smiles or brief snorts, but otherwise, the rest of the world would’ve had to guess at any of his notions and sentiments. His features had been void of any nuances; nonchalant, reticent veneers, reflections of mountains and ice, marbled countenance carved from crag and unholy vehemence, prospects of disaster and deceit. Here though, they all seemed capable of plucking it out of him, granting and giving acceptance, tolerance, allowing him time, space, to flicker and fragment off in pieces, so there was light inside the walls and fortifications of darkness, so he was permitted to peek over summits and valleys, become entertained or enthralled. It was new and bewildering, and sometimes he fought not to sink into it, not to be mired in the beckoning unknown – but they kept putting him there anyway.

So this time he embraced it, unaware it was to the delight of the Harpy. He continued to scratch the luxere’s ears, listening, listening, listening, content for the moment in the fact that the blighted were healing and things could somehow begin to return to normal. At her acceptance of soothing arts, the unicorn rose from her space by the hearth, roaming closer to the Harpy, and Deimos could feel the superiority of her sentiments pluming like waves; stifling and holding back another smirk, another snicker, at the equine’s complexities. She dipped her horn, long, potent, powerful, dusted at the top with a varnish of blue, extending assuaging, mending properties, powerful enough to not need touch, unraveling it from her ethers, from her incantations, from her enchantments, layer upon layer of curative properties. Zuriel already had her days full with Deimos’ partiality and preference for involving himself in danger, and with Kiada close at hand, the reassurances weren’t there. Luckily, she didn’t seem to mind, and would only share a few smug looks.

Thereafter, as Deimos happily munched, he’d only swallowed a few bites when her response flickered through the flavors. He ceased chewing momentarily, lowering a false glare, a narrowing of his eyes that noted his lack of humor in the jest; but otherwise suited and gratified that she was clearly getting better, enough to crack jokes. “I would not be surprised…” he proffered in response, a shrug to his shoulders as she reassured; continuing to dive headfirst into the pastry. Then he tilted his head, avian again, pondering the hour. “Do you want some breakfast?”
i rule the stars, not the other way around
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Guild Master/Mercenary

Age: 23 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 16
AUNI - Regular - Luxere
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 679
MP:
#9
it's 2am and i took 17 shots of vodka trying to forget your name
but the only name i forgot was mine. and sober —
It’s a tender amount of healing that Zuriel gives the girl, and she watches the blue tipped horn angle toward her while Deimos continues to pull out random gifts that Auni had been busy with while Kiada had been sick. And immediately, she feels better. More relieved, but the blight still courses within her, and some wounds still don’t heal fully. But she feels less exhausted, more like herself, and she gives the unicorn a bright white smile of thanks, reaching up to scratch once more behind her ears before she focuses on Deimos and the snacks she’d brought.

A false glare is sent her way as he stops chewing, and Kiada can’t help the snickering fit she finds herself in, even after she’s apologized. Her shoulders rise and fall in a small shrug while she glances back to the fireplace, content, happy, glad he hadn’t disowned her. But as he questions her, it’s unexpected and her head tilts back as she lets her gaze slide over his face momentarily with a gentle smile. “That sounds great.” She admits, quiet and content, before she focuses on him a bit more sternly — more like the defiant teenager she feels like.

And you can tell me all about your… feathers.” A defiant grin is sent his way as she stands and moves into the kitchen.
— or drunk, you're the only thing on my mind
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
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,613
MP:
#10
Deimos
The unicorn was content, pleased with herself, as per the usual, and if she could’ve worn some smirk or snicker, it would’ve been adorned proudly across her features. Instead, she leaned into the scratches, before meandering back off to her rightful place along the hearth, darting a glance at the Sword, but proffering nothing more. For his part, he simply nodded, and they were silent and still again, for a moment or two. Pastry finished, the beast lifted his head at her agreement towards breakfast, then collected the gifts in his lap, placing them back inside the bag – for now – and extending scratching the luxere’s head once more. Rising, rising, rising, secure with the blazing fire and the roar of warmth, he placed the sack and its precious items within softly on the table, before ambling along the counter, gathering supplies. Once he’d settled a pan on the stove and cracked open some eggs, listening to them sizzle when the temperature was right, he shifted a little, turning his head to regard the defiant grin, the curiosity emboldening her further into the threshold.

The last time she’d commented on his shifting ability, newfound and furtive, concealed only due to poor timing, she’d attacked, assaulted, and accused. He didn’t flinch at the notion, but his eyes visibly narrowed for a moment, swiveling back to the stove, pondering how deep and how far he was supposed to clamber on. Not a gifted storyteller or provider of conversation, he was liable to do just as she’d previously charged him for, simply due to his notions of austerity. But this was Kiada, and maybe she’d forgive him for that. So, instead of embarking into realms of ghosts haunting his visions, plucked straight out of his memories by Safrin, instead of starting with being dropped into the sky, like a sinking stone, like a plummeting piece of rock, rubble, and dust, he merely asked, cautious, hoping she’d be exact. “What do you want to know?” How or why or when? How he thought he didn’t deserve it? How he thought he wasn’t worth it? That sometimes he extended his arms into wings, feathers, and plumage, and still regarded it with shock, with surprise, and with awe?
i rule the stars, not the other way around
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Guild Master/Mercenary

Age: 23 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 16
AUNI - Regular - Luxere
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 679
MP:
#11
it's 2am and i took 17 shots of vodka trying to forget your name
but the only name i forgot was mine. and sober —
He rises and moves toward the kitchen at her acceptance, and she follows behind him while he prepares and begins to cook some eggs – eyes lifting from the pan to the man that stands behind it, a dark brow raised and a defiant grin cast his way. Oh, she remembers what started the argument, the frustration within her. But it was childish, a stupid reason when she knows he would have told her. If he was able to find her, that is. The blight had a beautiful way of keeping her hidden, keeping her away from those she cared about, of course unless it was within the blight’s benefit to alienate her more.

Regardless, he looks toward her, and she can see the slight narrowing of his eyes while she shrugs her shoulders and pulls up a stool to sit on by the stove – ever the look of a bored teenager, wishing for information and details, all the gossip she could. But when he asks her what she’d like to know, she puffs her cheeks out in a small sigh. She can’t say everything because she knows he won’t answer to that. So after a brief moment of pouting, she tilts her head and looks to him. “Like… When did it happen? And how? Did you just suddenly realize you could sprout feathers?” She asks with another charming grin.

If so maybe I should be more careful about the things I say about you to Ama.” She winks, mischievous and all her fiery uncanniness compared to how she’d once been not that long ago. “And maybe after breakfast we could… Fly or something together?” She asks, more serious, the arm her head settles on the counter sprouts a small amount of pale feathers with black edges, as if to edge him more. “I won’t attack you this time, it’ll be fun.” Gods knew they needed some fun.
— or drunk, you're the only thing on my mind
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
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,613
MP:
#12
Deimos
“Any preference?” The tilt of his head indicated the eggs, listening to the crackle of the stove – waiting for the rest of the ax to fall. Her pout was almost expected, but better than what it could’ve been; anger and hostility again, brandished and brindled and barbaric, scalding across his back once more, the previous bout already healed by Zuriel, the scars not terrible, not deep. Just one more set in a line of withstood, stalwart proclamations and fortifications, the breadth of his existence and being encountering and permitting the world to stomp on his essence, as long as the rest of the sovereignty stood. He went back to stirring the food, waiting, waiting, waiting for the inevitable.

Then they came, a sudden barrage, and the beast smiled again. “Last night of Leafchange,” in the morning he’d broken down, and in the evening he’d flown, and in between had been a series of events befuddling, bewildering, and awe-inspiring, for a cretin, for a fiend, for a demon who never thought he’d ever be granted an audience with a celestial being. “I had been intrigued by the thought of flying. Of freedom.” Like Amalia and Kiada had, capable of embellishing their souls into the sky, of going anywhere, everywhere, they wanted, deliverance, liberation, and some sort of providential glow, coasting along the seams of the world – when all he’d ever done was race across it, battling his way across fields and plains, digging his soul into the underbelly of dirt, soil, and earth. “Amalia encouraged me to go see Safrin.” And then there’d be the moment of stretched despondency and misery, fully aware that he was Abandoned, that no god had ever been pleased to see him, to glance upon his representation, despite everything he’d ever tried to accomplish. “So I did, and she actually came.” The last intonation was a bit breathless and quiet, subdued, surprised, shocked; as if confused and befuddled still by the spiraling of events and circumstances; a smile remaining, chiseled. “She dropped me out of the sky.” And between the ghosts, the phantoms, the wraiths, the specters – who told him to fly, to fly, to fly, to soar on the edges of embers, on the wave of water, on the sprinkle of rain. “Thought I was going to die.”

Look inside yourself, the deity had said, had uttered, had proclaimed, as if there had always been something there – well beyond the notions of sedition and revolution, insurrection and iniquities, a thousand scorching suns and tempestuous storms – then it’d been clear. “The feathers sprouted on my arms and became wings.” The rest had unfolded from that moment, and he didn’t even pause to consider her comments about discussing him with Amalia (maybe there would be a day where he wasn’t a mockery, more, more, more than that); only adhering to the notion of flying again, peacefully, with repose instead of acrimony and disaster. His smile only grew brighter. “Sure.”
i rule the stars, not the other way around
Kiada Njovu-Reyes
Guild Master/Mercenary

Age: 23 | Height: 5’7 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 18 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 16
AUNI - Regular - Luxere
Played by: Skylark Offline
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#13
it's 2am and i took 17 shots of vodka trying to forget your name
but the only name i forgot was mine. and sober —
Any preference?” He asks her, and for a moment she’s confused – forgetting about the eggs with the millions of questions that drift around her mind like the planets around the sun. But she focuses on the pan again before responding, a hum of amusement leaving her. “Mmm… Over easy.” She says lightly, preferring to dip some pieces of bread into the yolk so long as it’s soft and runny. But she forgets about it soon after, the rumble to her stomach, the smell of the food he makes.

And she focuses on what he says. It was the last night of Leafchange, around the same time Kiada had gone to Ludo and Ludo had answered. It was after the lantern festival, where wounds and blight had reopened her sorrows, and she folds her arms in front of her, resting her head against it as she watches him somewhat feline – like, a smile on her face. “It’s really fun, isn’t it?” She asks in response to his intrigued idea of flying – the freedom that came with it.

Her smile grows wider as he mentions Amalia suggesting it, encouraging him to go to the shrine. Of course, it had to have been her to convince the man to go to a shrine. Gods knew he wouldn’t go on his own without some prodding. And she nods, excitement alighting in her eyes when he mentions she came to him. “Ah! Was she… better? Or still blighted?” She asks suddenly, wondering.

And he tells her that she dropped him out of the sky and her lips part in some surprise. “Oh my gods.” She can’t help the laugh – because while it might have been terrifying, he was standing before her totally fine. And with a feathered form, so it obviously had to work. She covers her lips with her hand for a moment, still trembling but better with every moment, and she listens further.

An eagle, right? I do take some pride in being a bit bigger than you in that form, by the way.” She jests to him with a twinkle of mischief to her eyes before she smiles gently to him as he agrees to the flight. And she nods to that – later, after they’ve eaten, after they’ve caught up. But she has something she has to get off her chest too, and she focuses on him easily. “I went to a shrine at the end of Leafchange too. Before the blight got worse.” She announces simply, mischief sparkling once more in her gaze. “And I got to see Ludo.
— or drunk, you're the only thing on my mind
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
Militia General of the Hollowed Grounds / Guildmaster

Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 8 - Strg: 28 - Dext: 28 - Endr: 33 - Luck: 27
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 1,613
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#14
Deimos
He adhered to her partialities and inclinations, waiting until they’d been cooked properly, the yolk still soft and runny, before grabbing a plate and maneuvering it onto the surface – placing some bread Amalia had left there too, and then handing it off to her while grabbing another batch of eggs. He cracked them, and began resuming his task, preferring scrambled to over easy, listening despite his intense focus on food.

Flying was fun, but more than that. It was a relishing, savoring experience, deliverance and providence all at once, things he hadn’t had before, things he wouldn’t have dreamed of until now. It was the control of his own wings, the manifestation of his own power and prestige, the machinations of twisting, turning, and gliding, going wherever the hell he wanted or craved; an expression of faith in himself, rather than on outside worlds, weapons, or munitions. It was all contained in his frame, in his essence, and something to grab, snag, and ensnare for a lifetime. “Yes,” came with a warm smile, and not all the modicums he’d previously attached; she’d already know, far more experienced in this venue than himself. It was odd, to think of being some sort of fledgling, when all along his skills and understandings had kept him upright – fresh and foreign and ignorant again, but willing to learn.

At the mention of Safrin, the Sword recalled the blackened areas, the way she’d been see through, as if she wasn’t entirely there, not at full strength, a deity possessed too by legions of diseases and terrors. “Still blighted,” he intoned, narrowing his eyes as he stirred his eggs. Would she be better now, with everyone else no longer seething and disastrous, diabolical and ravenous? Did it take longer for a deity to recover? Wasn’t it bizarre, after all, with their omniscient and divine properties, to succumb to such a thing anyway? Did that mean the Voice’s reign was stronger –

His thoughts reeled and swam; mind curling and coiling with its modicums and Machiavellian designs, nearly jumping out of his skin at her sudden laughter. Glancing back over his shoulder, and rolling his eyes at her pride at being larger than him, at least in avian forms, he snorted. “Congratulations.” Like it’s some sort of prize. “Just means I am faster.” He returned to his eggs, shrugging with his calm, composed demeanor, taking the pan off the stove when he’d completed his efforts, following the same pattern with plating and bread. Her visit to Ludo, however, seemed to breech into another topic, and so he tilted his head as he retrieved two forks, handing one to her, attentive. “And?” He’d made an attempt with Ludo too, earlier, for research purposes over this damned blight, her sneaking up behind him; to no avail, the usual protocol for his efforts.
i rule the stars, not the other way around


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