making maps and drawing shots

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Thus far, the militia had been at a standstill in regards to where to wander next. While their parameters for Long Night had been more than sufficient, at least in places, in confines, in sanctuaries, the fact remained that there were too many to choose from. They required some semblance of a decision, hopefully two close-knit areas, where they could mount defenses, plan for provisions, and ensure the general public was safe. Some wouldn’t oblige any settlement or conclusion, fettering off on their own, capable and manifested into their own corridors and intervals – and others would need the aid provided. Where to choose was the current dilemma, and based on motivations, aspirations, ambitions, and even emotions (the beast could comprehend why a number of inhabitants didn’t care to select the Launcelyn Manor), they’d waited long enough to collect guild suggestions and sanctum advices. Now it was up to the sovereigns to decide. The Sword would have no trials or tribulations in deferring to either Wessex or Ronin; he had no dog, no hound, in the fight, nodding his head at proposals and recommendations, ensuring to take them to their foretold meeting. The warrior also had every intention of avoiding any political, diplomatic strife at hand; he’d done it more than once before, in another time, in another world, in another life, and hadn’t ever found it to be his calling. As darkness settled in, the monolith made his way to the Theskyra House, bag over his shoulder with necessary supplies and accoutrements, gazed at the building for a few moments – never having been inside either monarch feature. It wasn’t massive or imposing, but there, a symbolic gesture that it rested amongst and amidst the people. He glanced over his shoulder, waiting for Loren, before they proceeded and presided into the Town Hall, staircases before his eyes, and a series of rooms. A quick perusal, study, and examination left him still out of sorts, ignorant of where to go and what to do next. A subtle shrug was hastened, mostly for Loren’s benefit, before allowing his voice to echo through the chambers. Perhaps someone would direct them. “The militia are here to see Wessex.” All two of them. {Set before KQ timeline!} master of nothing place; of recoil and grace

LOREN

After Loren’s stint in the pit and @wessex’s subsequent retrieval, he wasn’t sure where he stood with the queen. However, he’d agreed to be a good citizen and a subservient little soldier, so when the summons came from Deimos the summoner knew he had no choice but to show up. Truth be told, he’d been waiting for the note for quite a while: it seemed like they’d been putting off the inevitable, and they had to make a decision about which locations they were going to fortify. Loren was going to withdraw the Manor from the list of options, given how no one but him and his houseguests were willing to stay there. Besides, it sounded like they needed him to be centrally located, considering he had a luxere companion and the ability to summon Spark Birds.

Something had been nagging him, something Remi had said, but the Launceleyn hadn’t voiced it to anyone yet. Still, he figured now would be a good time. Although he was quite worried about seeing the monarchs—though he didn’t know if Ronin would be there or what he’d do if he saw the king (why the summoner didn’t want to see the queen should be apparent—he knew if he didn’t show up, he’d probably get tossed in prison. Been there, done that, nothing to write home about.

So he saluted as soon as the general spotted him, then fell in behind the other man; Loren looked like little more than Deimos’ pale shadow, given how gaunt the Launceleyn had become. Indeed, he’d lost what little weight he’d put on since his return, and the circles under and shadows in his eyes were darker than before. Although he was curious to see the new seat of government, he took in the Town Hall without saying a word. Indeed, he would not speak unless called upon or if he felt it was absolutely necessary.

Safer that way. Besides, that’s what he’d promised, both himself and Wessex. At least it seemed that Ronin would not be in attendance.

But don’t be weary if it’s broken

Families are like that—

they’re split up and always torn.

WESSEX

the wraith

Yeah…. There’s been a lot going on, to say the least. Wessex is a little behind and unfortunately this matter has escaped her mind. The woman who acts as a general housekeeper (ha!), cook (also, ha - she pretty much just cooks for herself) and reception desk (all those messages, you know) has gone home for the night, leaving Wessex a couple of hours after she’s risen for the evening. She’d actually been out and about before the men arrive, but manages to catch sight of their familiar backs entering the door. “Ah, fuck, did I forget a meeting?” Wessex says as she enters behind them with a blast of cold, dark air that sends the lights flickering. LongNight is around the corner.  

Without a coat of her own to take off, the Queen holds out her hands for their outer garments, ready to place them on nearby hooks, but not before gazing curiously at the bag Deimos carries and the dark circles under Loren’s eyes. As soon as the cold weather gear is taken care of, she motions for them to follow her into the room to the right, where a large table lays before them and candles burn brightly in both lanterns on the walls and large candlesticks on the table.

“Something hot to drink? I think Daphne has some tea. Or there’s booze.” Just as warm, but in a different way. Though from the looks of it, Loren is in need of a week long sleep instead of anything with alcohol in it. And yes, the Queen would make it for them if they want it. Hospitality, and all that jazz.

she's pullin' the trigger

cause it's me and the moon, she says

and i have no trouble with that

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Loren was looking a little worse for wear – Deimos didn’t question him on it – perhaps all of them were in the same stead nowadays, with increasing threats of their blighted constituents, fighting friends as foes, striving to plant and guard roses, in between the usual circumstances of Long Night. Maybe now wasn’t the time anyways, not with other things bristling on the mainstream, but the silence was new. That had seemingly always been the Sword’s role (witness, bystander, waiting, waiting, waiting as his mind curled and coiled in calculations). Something was off. Wessex’s entrance behind them didn’t cause an arched brow either, despite sentiments of brief confusion. The fact that she offered to take their coats surprised him, but he kept his bag, as it held items and artifacts to go over. “Wessex,” he nodded, as much as a salute as he’d ever conveyed or interpreted, before following her along to the right, eyes taking in more of the sights, absorbing details and parameters, particulars, the table, the candles, only glancing back up when she asked about their drink preference. He shook his head, not intending to put anything upon her, or alter his mind with alcohol – those were mainly drowning in melancholy or celebrating something victorious – neither of those things applied in a meeting. He intended to remain sharp and focused. “No, thank you.” The beast appreciated the gesture though, let it be known with a small smile along the corner of his mouth. Then, onward to business. “We came to go over which places would be suitable for Long Night. There have been many suggestions.” Which, in a way, was a positive point – a more optimistic angle than having very few at all. “The Launcelyn Manor, Monster Hunter’s Guild, Artisan’s Guild, and the Rathskeller have all been put forward.” Then again, people would go where they wanted - but it would be nice to have preparations laid out for anyone and everyone, instead of so many lost out in the darkness, or swept up by demons. “If we decide upon those with close proximity to one another, and where we can lure luxere and ensure some fortifications…” The beast turned back to Loren, waiting on his input, then his gaze flickered to the table, pondering if now would be a good time to unveil one of the items he’d brought. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace

LOREN

When Wessex arrived behind them Loren just turned and saluted her as well. Just because the general and the queen were acting casually didn’t mean the summoner could afford to; he was well aware that he was on thin ice and was going to be a good little soldier. As she offered to take his cloak, he shook his head. One day, he’d impress upon her the importance of acting more like a ruler, but that was a battle for another day. He’d have enough fights today, he imagined.

Trailing behind both of them into the backroom, the Launceleyn shook his head to Wessex’s next offer as well. ”No thank you.” Unlike Deimos, Loren didn’t smile at the offer. He wasn’t much up to smiling today. Or any day. Thankfully, he didn’t need to smile to get his job done. Settling at the corner of the long table nearest the door, he pulled a journal and a quill and ink from the pockets sewn into the cloak and flipped open to a blank page as Deimos started speaking.

The summoner was planning to take shorthand transcript notes of everything they said tonight, then post their final decision after the fact like a good little underling. Dutifully he took down the general’s comments, though when the other man paused, Loren looked up and realized Deimos was staring at the Launceleyn. Apparently the general wanted the summoner to voice his opinion. Hesitating for just a moment as his eyes strayed towards the queen, Loren sighed then bent his head to both write and speak at the same time. ”I’m withdrawing the Manor from consideration. Too few people are willing to stay there. I will defer to your judgment about the rest.” Pausing, he glanced up very briefly, wondering whether he should say more. He had a lot on his mind, but wasn’t sure if he should voice it.

Better to ask forgiveness and permission, even if he was pushing it and that type of thinking had gotten him in trouble in the past. ”However, if you want my opinion, I have a luxere companion, as does Kiada. I recommend we pick two locations, and have one of us at each. My top choices are the Temple and the Monster Hunter’s Guild. They are the most popular among everyone I’ve spoken to, and if we start work now we can make them defensible.” While he’d obviously prefer to be at the Temple—both because it was more centrally located and because he wanted to be far, far away from Remi and Ronin—that wasn’t really Loren’s call to make. He could set aside his discomfort with the two men for the greater good.

He was good at that.

Though he’d only been in the Monster Hunter’s Guild once, it had fortifications and presumably supplies to take care of people who’d been hurt by, well, monsters. The Temple had the Infirmary, the shrine, and access to the Caido Medical College. And while there were many entrances and exits, they could barricade those to the best of their ability and hope that would be enough.

But don’t be weary if it’s broken

Families are like that—

they’re split up and always torn.

WESSEX

the wraith

Nothing to soothe the bite of Deepfrost? Ok, then. Onward and upward. She nods and takes a seat at the head of the table, gesturing for them to begin. She was glad of their appearance at the House tonight, for it was something that needed to be addressed, and yet continued to slip on down the to-do list with each minor crisis and God’s rose thing.

She listens to the two men, legs crossed and elbows to the chair’s arm rests. The militia is acting more like her advisers and she finds she doesn’t hate it. Loren even gets to do something he more or less volunteered for. Everyone should be happy, aside from the topic they’re discussing.

The Queen can’t argue with taking Launceleyn Manor out of the picture. It’s his house. He can do what he wants with it. The suggestion, however, produces a tight-lipped expression. Almost a frown, but not quite. In her head is a map of the Hallowed Grounds, and she thinks of the travel time, even for someone as quick as herself at night. “Good suggestions, but they’re too far from each other. I agree with the Monster Hunters Guild, and Remi has offered it up. We need either two places in the Settlement or two places in the Sanctuary. Or we need one place.”

Her hands create the space of the temple as she considers the imaginary building. “You know my reservations on the Temple. It’s big. Great for holding people and not going crazy, but not great for defending. So walk me through preparations and defenses. You’ve got the big doors, the multiple big windows, and the Rathskellar with its cellar entrance.”  

She doesn't care what's popular with the people. She cares what will keep them safe, and even then, there will be arguments about being locked in, unable to help, etc. It's a lose-lose situation, but Wessex is determined to make the best of it this year.

she's pullin' the trigger

cause it's me and the moon, she says

and i have no trouble with that

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame The manor being withdrawn from consideration was intriguing, but not wholly surprising. Based on a few observations from the last meeting, and the general public’s view of the Launcelyn Manor (though not tainted by Loren’s efforts, damage ultimately down by his family), it might’ve been a good decision. It would’ve been disappointing to utilize resources, materials, and efforts on a place not encompassed by many at all; accommodations could be settled elsewhere, anyway, based on the amount they had accumulated. He listened to the opinions of the other militia member, nodding in accord, finding no issue with either Temple or Monster Hunter’s Guild – the latter housing many rooms, the Temple holding a vast amount of space and supplies. As Wessex seemed to consider their proclamations, Deimos kept himself busy with deliberations and incantations of his own. Gesturing to the table, he tilted his head and asked “May I?”, considering permissions, before his hands glowed, unraveling, unrolling, ministrations between the two palms. Between gilded filaments, a map appeared, adorned and detailed, and as he stretched it out upon the table’s surface, weighting the paper don so it wouldn’t curl, more particulars and icons into its enamel. Unwound from his memory alone, it held locations and points throughout the Hollowed Grounds, though he wasn’t so presumptuous as to mark and label portions of the Greatwood; it was a vision of woods and greenery, verdant, while the rest of their settlement lingered upon the finer etchings. There, they could easily pinpoint the locations proffered and described. He eyed the distances between the aforementioned residences, mulling over potential weaknesses in the expanse – understanding the reservations upon anything and everything. There were procs and cons to each sanction and section. “If we are to choose the Temple, it at least houses the Infirmary, which Loren can operate within easily, should he wish,” with a healing prowess and endeavor, he’d more likely be of use in the largest space – his depths flicked towards the fellow sentinel, before ghosting back to Wessex. “Remi and I both have unicorns with healing powers, if we were to stay at the Monster Hunter’s Guild.” Which meant there would be some ability to mend, soothe, and assuage at both locations – and possibly less of a reason to risk traversing back and forth. “As far as defenses, we may want to reinforce walls and windows, ensure lighting is adequate, lure more luxere, and embed it with snow moss.” The beast paused, pondering over the status of last year’s proclamations, more secure locks – or a way to look through doors (a peephole?). “After last Longnight’s door debacles, I was also wondering if we would be able to orchestrate a means of glancing through the door.” Who knew how many they’d lost, because some had been afraid to open the threshold? Who knew how often they were likely tricked? How it could happen again? He rifled through his bag once more, producing Amalia’s crimson staff. “I do not know if we wanted weapons or guards. I studied Amalia’s staff and attempted to replicate it, to no satisfaction. According to Remi, it is one of a kind.” Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to somehow reconstruct any of these grand things to seize and scare away the demons; and he wasn’t about to go hunting down luxere antlers either. “Have Naturals tried anything in the past?” Had there been some other way besides hiding? master of nothing place; of recoil and grace

LOREN

Yes yes, there were no perfect solutions to where to stay, which is why Loren had suggested they just decide on two and do everything within their power to make them defensible. If he’d thought he could convince everyone to stay in one place—crowded as that might be—he would’ve, but as it stood he found that possibility distinctly unlikely. Wessex already talked about one place anyway, and again, it was up to her and Deimos in the end.

The problem was, there weren’t really two places large enough to congregate in either the Sanctuary or the Settlement, a fact that became quite apparent when Deimos revealed the map. The Temple and the Monster Hunter’s Guild were the best individual options, but not collectively. However, at the mention of unicorns and the infirmary, the summoner bit his lip without pausing his note-taking. ”We should split up the unicorns, since I can’t heal those with life drain. As for the Temple, the medical college staff is here, and they can operate the Infirmary as well, if not better than I can. We should at least consider the possibility of putting me at the remote location so we don’t have to worry as much about transporting all the medical equipment there.” As loathe as he was to admit it, it might actually make more sense to have him at the Monster Hunter’s Guild, if that’s where they parked him. His discomfort was not a reason to put people in danger. ”We can have some Ascended take my healing magic in addition to the ones who take my summoning. Alternatively, we can make more magic-storing amulets.”

Regarding the defensibility of the Temple, the general covered most of that, but Loren had a few ideas of his own as well. ”Board up all the windows securely enough that we’d notice if anyone tried to pry them open and bar the doors. And since we don’t want people drinking too much anyway, and since it’s a risk, Remi could collapse the tunnel for the duration of LongNight.” It would remove an entrance and exit from the equation and cost the alchemist almost nothing. ”Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I don’t know if glancing through the door will give us a way to tell if the monsters are impersonating people” From what the Launceleyn understood, they physically changed shape. ”I also feel that I should point out that Amalia, Jigano, and Phoebe have insisted they will stay at the Temple, and they have assured me that others feel the same and will be joining them.” Wessex might not like it, but they were relying as much upon people’s cooperation and willingness to stay indoors as their authority and strength, and they should do their best to accommodate that.

When Deimos brought up replicating weapons, Loren sighed again, much more heavily. ”We should also prepare ourselves for the possibility that my summoned creatures do not have the same ability to ward off the monsters as the real ones do, especially because we cannot seem to replicate any other sources of magical light.” It was magic, and magic operated on rules no one really understood. Thankfully, he was looking down at his journal this whole time and didn't have to watch their responses to his words.

But don’t be weary if it’s broken

Families are like that—

they’re split up and always torn.

WESSEX

the wraith

Giving permission for Deimos to do whatever it is he wants to do, Wessex is immediately pleased when she realizes that he’s making a stunningly beautiful map of the Hallowed Grounds. Her mouth opens in awe as she sees her whole world laid out before her from an aerial view, decorated and detailed, and if anything isn’t correct, Wessex doesn’t notice it (yet). Standing up to get a better view of the creation, she flashes the General a grateful smile before gingerly reaching out to touch it. Her fingertips run over the gilded edges, the weighted corners, the smooth surface - she finds this house, new as it is - on there and looks again at the man. “You’ve outdone yourself this time, General.”

There is little time to spare for more admiration, however, as the two deliver their ideas, and Wessex listens closely, still standing at the top of the table. She mulls over a few things here and there, looking from each man to the map at times. “That’s a shit ton of snow moss and black cloth to prepare either place. We should make sure the other Naturals have enough first, and consider putting down rugs in the Temple. Socks only, that kind of thing.” After a brief pause, she says, “If we choose those two places, it has to be with the understanding that each place is on their own and we need to prepare them that way. The only other viable option for two places, I think, is the Temple and here, if everyone is so set on being pains in the ass about it.” She sighs. Amalia knows better. Phoebe and Jigano can be counted on to be thorns in her side on any given day, but Amalia should know better.

“But since it’s not supposed to be much more than a central meeting place, I don’t think anyone used to comforts would be happy here for a week.” She almost rolls her eyes. Almost. “So I guess that’s it, then.” Moving merrily along, she begins to address Loren specifically, since he seems to be taking notes. “Loren, put this down as a tentative division for the houses.” Mentally, the Queen goes through everyone they’ve mentioned - unicorns, healers, rulers, etc, and begins to assign them places, fairly certain that they’ll agree with her own assessment.

“Remi and Ronin in the Guildhouse. Deimos and Amalia in the Temple. I’ll go to the Temple too - we should have one ruler in each place. Phoebe has the infirmary, so I assume Cera will be there as well. You to the Guild, please.” She pauses and begins to think about the Ascended, the amulets, how they’re going to do shit if things go to hell in a handbasket.

She also wishes Loren would have said something about the nature of his magic earlier, since Wessex had been operating under the assumption that he knows what he can and cannot do. This is a blow, but she does her best not to show her frustration and disappointment at the news. “We should operate under the assumption it won’t, then.” And now back to Deimos’s question, which had piqued a flare of anger, though she knew the question came from the right place. So the Wraith leans on to the table and swallows, trying to find the right way to put it. “There’s a reason I’m hesitant to try new things to fight the monsters. I know you ask because you mean to find new solutions, and we’ve never had this many powerful magic users in one place before. There is… the potential for a lot of change.”

And change has come, far too quickly, with far too many repercussions for many of them to do anything more than hold on tightly and hope for the best. “But anyone who has tried to do anything other than hide is dead. Look at the Palmers. Leave the door open a crack and they can get in. I’m the only one who’s ever survived an encounter and I sure as hell can’t count on it happening again.” The Ascended shakes her head, refusing the reveal that the Voice might tell her to come outside, to do - something - oh, mystery of mysteries!

“So humor me. Prepare the way we’ve always prepared. I’d rather get through this LongNight with everyone alive and be able to try to do more research than take unnecessary risks. It’s selfish, but I’ve got to have one good thing under my belt, to try and redeem the damage of the blight.” So they see, it’s not just a ruler thing, it’s fucking personal.

she's pullin' the trigger

cause it's me and the moon, she says

and i have no trouble with that

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Insinuations and perceptions were always intriguing to listen to – introspection brought to the surface, thoughts, ruminations, and interest brimming on the line; but some either uncertain, precarious, or difficult to decipher at best. In regards to most of Loren’s proclamations, he didn’t find much at fault, however, there were undercurrents of either lies or hearsay brandished across them, and then decisions mounting from false information. The General wasn’t about to let them rest. “As far as I am aware, I am the only one currently possessing Life Drain. Since I have Zuriel, you do not need to make special consolations for me.” Perhaps he was ignorant of anyone else brandishing the incantations, and if so, he would retract his statement. But the others, especially with the notions of experiences with the monsters, with their shrieks, with their howls – Deimos only had notions of their alterations in pitch and diction, the way they slithered outside the portals and boundaries, hoping to snag and catch someone unaware, intending to trap and ensnare from within. Maybe some were capable of shifting entirely – but he hadn’t been exposed to any such record. He bristled a little at the insinuation that his notions wouldn’t help; they would be better than nothing at all, opening the aperture for anyone or no one – leaving either more individuals to die on the doorstep or for all the demons to come. “If you do not have another suggestion, you are welcome to be the doorman.” He wasn’t usually one for snark, but the irritation in hearing some of Loren’s expanded depths had rankled and irked, especially some of the latter bits. Amalia going to the Temple? Unlikely. Where had he secured such notions and sentiments? Deimos clenched his jaw, complete reticence securing over his features, but the rage lingering, simmering just below his skin and bones. “Amalia has made it clear to me she does not plan to stay at the Temple.” Since she had died there last year, since she had been brought to its depths to be healed and he’d carried her lifeless body into the space and held her down while Vai somehow managed to find and breathe new life into her. And all the while, he had glanced at Wessex, incapable of staring at Loren any longer, swallowing down the bile on his latest simmer of exasperation. Towards her compliment on the map, he merely nodded, content to help; listening to her suggestions instead. He absorbed them, understanding he was capable of making endless black cloth, but the snow moss would not be so infinite; on their own a nuance even if there was a small portion of him pondering over how to set up an alarm system for one another, just in case. Then the decision came down – to the Temple – and there he dug into his ivories again, releasing a sigh; Loren’s false information had led them down into these ramparts, exactly where Amalia and a number of them wouldn’t feel safe or secure. But he’d already made his thoughts and motions clear on that aspect; perhaps something could be altered in the veracity, in the clarity, and not on whatever Loren had managed to string along. His weapons declaration hadn’t gone over well either – and so it seemed any and all preparations on that front would be sidelined indefinitely. He hid his mild disappointment, but would adhere to the Queen at least on this front; she was a Natural, she’d experienced it far more than any of them ever had. “Understood,” he intoned. The what ifs still seared though, seditiously clawing through his Machiavellian mind. What if there came a time when they needed a weapon? What if the monsters somehow got inside? What were they supposed to do then – become sitting ducks? So, as it stood, they simply couldn’t allow anything to cross those sanctified thresholds. He paused, inhaling, exhaling, retaining, reclaiming, his imminent, cool, calm composure. “Is there anything else we should be aware of?” And then they could go, to preparations, to defenses. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace

LOREN

Wessex, at least, seemed to think that Loren’s ideas had some merit, even if Deimos disagreed. The Launceleyn would deal with the queen first, and all the while he kept his head down as he wrote his notes. ”I’ve already stockpiled moss and cloth because I was planning to use it at the Manor. I’d be happy to distribute it to everyone before using it for the Temple and the Guild." It seemed to him that they should make the places independent regardless of their proximity, but he knew better than to voice that, so he just nodded instead. As for taking down the decision, well, he nodded again. ”Noted. I’ll let everyone know.” Wessex's distribution of personnel and resources made sense to the Launceleyn, even if he was unhappy about being placed with Remi and Ronin. As for the queen’s frustration with his magic, well, the idea had literally just occurred to him, and he’d rather prepare for the worst. If she wanted to chew him out, he would let her. Again, he wasn’t perfect, but he knew in this case, the issue wasn’t with his spells, but with the monsters. He had no idea what they were capable of.

However, it seemed he wasn’t the only one upset at this plan. He was just keeping quiet about it.

Maybe that had something to do with the fact that Deimos’ reaction to everything was vehement and far beyond what Loren had been expecting. In particular, the general seemed to take offense at what the summoner had thought about the baker and her plans. Still, he’d objected to a lot more before that. Mostly, the summoner stayed silent as the queen implored them to try the old, sure ways. The general spoke first, but the Launceleyn was quick to follow. ”Understood.”

Once she was done, Loren finally responded to the other man. ”I don’t know what magic everyone has, but I also don’t know of anyone else with life drain off the top of my head.” Still, given how quickly abilities tended to crop up and how unwilling folks around here were to part with their secrets, they couldn’t rely upon that being or remaining the case. Besides, everything else about not moving the medical equipment or the healers still held true. Finally, Loren glanced up, hoping Wessex would explain the nature of the monsters, to the general; however, he didn’t know why the queen hadn’t done it already, and wouldn’t take that chance. Still, he'd be careful about what he revealed. ”Correct me if I’m wrong, but don't the monsters have the ability to physically take on the form and voice of anyone we might know? That’s why we came up with the verbal code, isn’t it? Though perhaps we should come up with a knock as well, in case they can read.” If Wessex wanted to explain more about the proto-Ascended, she could, but peepholes would be useless, since even items that could pierce illusions wouldn’t help them identify friend from foe.

However, even that didn’t seem to be what was really bothering the general. ”And I apologize. It’s entirely possible I misheard or was mistaken about what Amalia meant, or that I misremembered. Obviously she can stay at the Guild if she's uncomfortable at the Temple.” They’d spoken very briefly, and he’d talked to a lot of people about their plans for LongNight, and he wasn’t infallible or above admitting that he’d conflated multiple different conversations. He had some vague memory of someone telling him the people would want to be able to pray, and had assumed it was Amalia, what with her devotion to the gods. However, he probably shouldn’t have spoken unless he was certain.

Seeing as he didn’t know what Deimos and the baker were to one another, the Launceleyn didn’t realize just what he’d stepped into here. However, given that he had already somehow pissed the other man off, Loren wasn't going to say anything further. Not that he had anything to add. Maybe the queen did, though, so he kept his quill poised over the page.

But don’t be weary if it’s broken

Families are like that—

they’re split up and always torn.

WESSEX

the wraith

Well. that wasn’t something she was expecting tonight. Deimos is full of surprises - though it is easy to tell that it’s far more about Amalia than himself, which would make her smile if it wasn’t a totally inappropriate thing to do at that time. “Ok, boys,” she says dryly, pulling back. “We have the code word and to soothe everyone's mind, we will ask personal questions if there’s someone outside. But we will not cut holes in doors unnecessarily. That lets out light, and light attracts them.” Which is also why fire wouldn’t work. She grumbles through the concession, hating giving more room to everyone who had a goddamn opinion and criticism.

“And the assignments are easily fixed. Deimos and Amalia can go to the Guild” and literally leave me friendless and alone, thank you very much, you fuckers, “Loren can be in the Temple, along with Phoebe and Cera.” She pauses, thinks. “Yes, without any way to relay messages, each place will have to be on it’s own. Unless there are any telepathic people I don’t know about,” she jokes, though there is a strong element of truth to her joke.

Anything else? Oh, yes.

“There is the small matter of Roana. Loren, you already know, and Deimos, I wouldn’t be surprised if Amalia told you - but Roana has threatened Sam and the entire Ascended race. That there are few of us doesn’t matter. I’m worried she might try something during LongNight. I’d like to safely head that off. Take her into custody and secure her for the week, and then investigate the why’s and such afterwards.”

It's a job for the militia, if there ever was one. "I can draw up an order for arrest, or something. If that makes it more official." She doesn't want to be Zariah. But Roana is a threat, and she can't ignore that.

she's pullin' the trigger

cause it's me and the moon, she says

and i have no trouble with that

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Deimos didn’t give her the notions of his two-way mirror idea; not so much as a hole in the door as a way to see out without the rest of the world looking in, but he clearly hadn’t explained it well enough (a fault and defect of his own making). Instead of grumbling any further, he merely accepted it, as well as the assignment change, safer for Amalia. “Thank you,” because he was grateful Wessex had listened, had understood, not focusing on Loren’s apologies. Perhaps the other man would learn some notions about hearsay or muffled beliefs. As for telepathic people, he pondered over if she meant those Attuned – if, because of his abilities now, that meant he was now amongst those. His powers were not so grand as others, they hadn’t grown, they hadn’t expanded, but something about admitting the alteration and morphing of his abilities left him yearning to return to his shadows, to his thresholds of solace and nothingness. “I can shift now.” He wanted to shift right then and there out the door; but his stare remained on the Queen, sighing. “My connection is not a strong as others, but we can speak via link when I am in animal form.” What a set of bizarre statements. Whether or not this would be helpful would remain to be seen. The subject change was intriguing though; new, foreign to his ears, likely lost in the pattern of other treacheries and disasters exchanged between Sword and Shield. There’d been Kiada. There’d been Safrin. There’d been such an abundance of strife and infernos that there hadn’t been a moment to settle within any other ongoings. He didn’t lift his brows in surprise or disbelief at Roana’s involvement with threatening an entire Ascended race – tilting his head in curiosity slightly, understanding why Wessex would want these intervals erased quickly. “We will try,” the last word being the operative term, because taking Roana into custody was unlikely to go smoothly. “Someone will have to watch her children.” Despite how obnoxious he found the triplets, he wouldn’t leave small children to defend themselves against a deadly, noxious omen on the horizon. “An official document might help.” Something they could show her, but not let her destroy; nothing drawn on a whim, but a notice of her pending custody. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace

LOREN

Well, there was some good and some bad. Good: Wessex agreed not to let the general cut holes in everything, and reassigned Loren away from the Temple. Bad: Deimos still seemed pissed, and they still had the problem of healers. ”We should consider relocating Cera to the Guild so they have at least one dedicated healer there.” Unicorns were all well and good, but he figured it couldn’t help to have someone with medical expertise at both locations, and they shouldn't have Loren, Phoebe, and Cera all in one spot. As for telepathy, that they didn’t have, although the news about the general being able to shift, was, well news. However, the Launceleyn didn’t know how far that link traveled. Luckily, they had something else they could try, something that would be much safer for everyone if it worked. ”How far can Ronin send his illusion-projection thing? And can he communicate with us, or just see and hear what we’re saying?” He figured the general and the queen knew about the king’s abilities, but if not, the summoner would elaborate.

At the mention of Roana, the Launceleyn’s hand paused for a brief moment in note-taking, but he resumed it quickly enough. He knew they needed to do something about her, but it was painful to think of the ex-captain, who’d defended him and saved his life, as someone who needed to be put away. Then again, Loren had been imprisoned recently. ”Phoebe is their aunt. I can take them to her, or if she won’t or can’t I can take care of them for a bit.” A few more children in the Manor for a little bit of time might almost be nice. However, there was another issue. ”Where will we keep Roana for LongNight? I imagine it should be somewhere separate from most of the Ascended, just in case, but they need to be able to drink from me as well.” Granted, it seemed that they could travel more safely than most during LongNight, so maybe it didn’t matter that much where all the Ascended stayed. Regardless, it seemed that meant the ex-captain should stay at the Guild, but Loren didn't know if they could force that on Ronin and Remi.

But don’t be weary if it’s broken

Families are like that—

they’re split up and always torn.