choke them on the ashes
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 Offline
Change author:
Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#1
DEIMOS
For all the power, for all the control, for all the contortions bristling in his veins, the inferno plunging beside death, beside creation, there was a portion to him that knew he should’ve been better. He could’ve done something different, in that time and place where the domination, the supremacy, the irreverence was in his palms and power and prestige, when it ignited and scorched, when it unfurled and burned. He could’ve altered a course, ran it rampant or through the monsters, instead of bringing everything down. Instead of toppling a fortress. Instead of permitting and orchestrating it to eat away at the wood, at the paper, at the plains of everyone else’s hard, forged work; in the pandemonium, in the chaos, in the rush for safety and sanctum, he’d punctured theirs.

It weighed along his shoulders and chest as he set foot upon the Artisan Guild’s grounds, wandering there because it was the only place he could think of (he’d destroyed their home) to find either Remi or Ronin; to profer some sort of rue, regret, and apologies, to begin to make amends. In another time, in another life, the measures of bedlam and devastation wouldn’t have bothered him – he might’ve been enthralled in its colossal spread, in the heart of blistering belligerence, in the maddening sway of collapsed disasters. Except the alchemist and the Fallen Star were not his enemies, not his adversaries, not of a primordial ilk and reign of terror. No tyranny existed between their presences, and he’d wreaked havoc on their refuge and sanctuary because once it’d been an ideal location for LongNight. Those intonations lanced too. He’d bear the scars and the wounds, the burnt lungs, the ashen throat; eyes lowered, head down, just striving to do something other than wallow.

As he came upon Remi’s familiar stall, he hastened a swift inquiry via attuned measures, pondering if the alchemist was even there, in the midst, or off, trying to instill something else after all the damage had been done. Remi, came first, almost hesitant, regretful in its abyss, before standing along the threshold, waiting for acceptance or denouncement, understanding either directed at him. May I apologize?
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 10,723 | Total: 16,193
MP: 3059
#2
our hands they seek the end of afternoons
The alchemist was indeed at his workbench, and not because he was simply trying to force some semblance of normalcy back into his routine; he quite literally had no where else to be. With the Monster Hunter's Guild burned down and his and Ronin's efforts to simply disappear into the portal within the Mathair effectively removed, the alchemist really had no choice but to...try and make the best of things.

He just had absolutely no idea what that entailed.

So rather than working on anything, he simply sat at his workbench, staring mildly at the wood. Within, the wood-grain seemed to dance and move as if there were rivers of starlight within. It was all just an illusion, but he found himself entirely lost in it until Deimos voice in his mind interrupted his thoughts.

"Mmm?" He hummed, glancing up with a distracted smile. Upon seeing the Sword it only widened, at least until he heard the remainder of what the larger man had to say. Apologize? He repeated silently, brows narrowing with confusion. What ever for?
my hands believe and move over you

Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
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 Offline
Change author:
Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#3
DEIMOS
Any apology or expression of regret coming from his mouth had been rarities in Helovia. The Reaper, most of the time, had been neither sorry nor rueful about his actions – machinations leading either exactly where he intended for them to cross, or a backfiring shard leading to further consequences and ruminations. For a heathen drenched in apathy, indifference, and a multitude of chaotic, bedlam balances, they hadn’t seemed necessary; and rarely, if ever, had the Aurora Basin feel remorse for their vengeful violence. The few times he had concocted them had been a pathway to the unknown, and the words had choked him on the way up from his vocals, a drowning, nearly asphyxiating conundrum, basking back and forth along lungs and air, until audacity got the better of him.

But now he had more people that accepted and tolerated. Now he had more people that actually gave a damn. So in turn, he did the same for them.

Remi’s confusion was apparent, and the Sword fissured his way into befuddlement too. What did the alchemist mean? Why wouldn’t he be upset for his home being completely, utterly destroyed? Deimos had known what it was like to be a refugee – to wander in bitterness, in the wake of loss, in the contemplation of where to go from there (desecration and upheaval, sedition and revolution). “For burning the guild to the ground.” Voice deep and rumbling, carved out of his chest, a sigh filtering through those mercurial moments; the flames stoked and contorted in his incantations – as if they’d been beatific enthrallments of his father’s boisterous efforts – and then everything thereafter, conflagrations spread from his hands and down into floorboards. “I had control over the fire.” But then nothing else, not over the screams, the shouts, the people running into the evening – he could’ve done something besides bringing it all down, down, down to cinders, embers, coal, and ash. His eyes sketched their way from the ground and back to Remi, furrowed brows and frowns evident, mind already reeling with how to negate and fix the mess he’d made.
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 10,723 | Total: 16,193
MP: 3059
#4
our hands they seek the end of afternoons
"Ahh, well." Remi's shoulders rose and fell gently. "It was only a building." He said with a brand of cheeriness that he'd once been known for. Now it felt like a mask, but a familiar one just the same. However as Deimos' gaze rose, heavy with turmoil and regret, Remi's smile disappeared as he realized the weight of the Swords apology. "You controlled it, yes. But you were the only one. Strong as you are, I would say an entire building set on fire by monster's was more than we could have asked you to handle. Nor did we." He added with a gentle smile.

Never once had they asked for the guild to be protected; there had been no pleas for magic, just a call for all to leave. Even as the building burned, never once had Remi or Ronin tried to stop it.

"It...was interesting timing, I suppose. With Ronin stepping down as King, I am not really sure what our plans were anyways. A break, to be sure. Without the Monster Hunter's guild, I suppose that was just one more tie to be cut." Offering the Sword a reassuring smile, the alchemist simply shook his head. "Please do not feel anything but our gratitude, for holding off the flames long enough to get everyone out safely. That is all we wanted. If anything, I am the one to blame. I was the one who said the door would always be opened, and there cannot be much doubt that that is how the monsters got in."
my hands believe and move over you

Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
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 Offline
Change author:
Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#5
DEIMOS
Only a building; Deimos had a difficult time with things being segmented as only, but those ruminations came from multiple lives with multiple losses. Homes became symbolic segments he rooted himself to, whether it was the ocean, the sea breeze, the cry of gulls across dunes and sand, or the mountains, ice behind his eyes, glaciers walled in his chest. He held onto those figments for as long as he could, avaricious and rapacious, desperate and wanton, arching for control and dominion so they wouldn’t crumble, so they wouldn’t break, so they wouldn’t shatter like the rest. His eyes fell back to the floor, to the ground, breathing on slower inclines as Remi smiled, as he insinuated no fault or blame rendered its way onto the Sword’s entity.

He wanted to argue against it, that they needn’t have asked, that he’d done so willingly to ensure the others escaped, but he could have done more (and that was always the crux of it, really, in the depths of his persistence, that he should’ve committed other things than the wild, savage intervals). The shame still warred its way through his frame.

Then the alchemist thought himself accountable; the legions of efforts of the door opening, closing, taking in anyone and anything who banged upon its sanction. The general’s eyes lifted, another sigh bounding through the air, uncertainty lingering between guild particles and his vexed contortions. He wasn’t here to segment or sever condemnation on anyone but himself; they’d all known the plans, and maybe, should’ve expected some semblance of corruption and upheaval from the very beginning. The beast absorbed the absolutions though, and the weight felt less cumbersome, less binding, listening instead of openly defying it, resistance not met or fissured in his jaw. Okay was something he couldn't say out loud, not without choking, not without rasping, not without something else flickering or falling apart. “Do you want it rebuilt?” Perhaps so, perhaps not, ties cut and loosened, or meant to be stranded back together, without the frayed ends?
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 10,723 | Total: 16,193
MP: 3059
#6
our hands they seek the end of afternoons
"I think...not." Sitting up and smoothing an errant curl away from his forehead, the alchemist gave his head a little shake (which loosened the curl right back to where it had been). "I think Ronin and I might ...go away for a while, if we can. Through the portal if that ever becomes an option. Have a proper honey moon and all that." He added with a crooked and boyish smile that fell away to something more sincere.

"The guild took on a life of its own for Ronin, and not an entirely pleasant one. It was where Vanya died." Not that Deimos likely needed reminding, but then again maybe he did. Remi had, after all. "I apologized the same to Ronin. Was eager to rebuild it bigger and better, until he said that part of him was actually glad for it to be gone." Smiling down at the table, Remi scratched at where some ink had set into the wood and shrugged lightly.
my hands believe and move over you

Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
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 Offline
Change author:
Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#7
DEIMOS
No; nothing to be revitalized, rebuilt, reshaped, re-envisioned. He didn’t frown or quarrel over the notions; a decision Ronin and Remi had proclaimed and decided, and so the guild would remain ashen, destroyed, not renewed for any other purpose. He nodded in accord, the comprehension echoing over his mantle, his shoulders, his broad expanse. Reminders of loss were always there, either in spirit or corporeal form. The Fallen Star likely never required prompts or mental notes of a wife’s death; and though he clenched his jaw, he said naught more on the subject. Ghosts seemed to cling to all of them, phantoms and wraiths and specters chasing down their haunting gallows or well-meaning attributes; figures of long ago or just the other day. So too, would the Monster Hunter’s Guild become; shells of moments passed, husks and soil and ash.

The alternative to the subject raised was a far better anthem  - even if the alchemist and Ronin failed to let Deimos seek some sort of nettled atonement for his actions. “To the mountains?” It might have been the fragments of a smile forming along his mouth; because it had been his intention too – to simply glide amongst and amidst the waves of portals until he reached the band of summits and peaks and cherished the feeling, the longing, the tenors and chords of something that was once home. They weren’t the same, and he wouldn’t expect them to be – but their existence, their presence, would be enough to assure some sort of light, some sort of beacon, some sort of siren inveigling him to press onward.
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 10,723 | Total: 16,193
MP: 3059
#8
our hands they seek the end of afternoons
Remi grinned cheerfully. "Personally I had been hoping for the ocean. For sand and waves...but I would take mountains too, cold as they might be." Originally the alchemist had pictured mountains as simply being rock, until Deimos had filled in some of the details. But it was Kiada who'd impressed upon his mind just how freezing they could be. Still, anywhere was better than here.

"Without the guild I suppose I do not feel so bad about just leaving. As for the artisans guild, if you leave as well, perhaps someone else can inherit it. Or...perhaps it will catch fire as well." Cringing slightly at the ill-timed humour of this, Remi shook his head with a bashful and apologetic smile.

"You will leave then as well? When you can?"
my hands believe and move over you

Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
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 Offline
Change author:
Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#9
DEIMOS
Remi’s cheerful grin eased the tension in his shoulders again, a little like old times, instead of bitter recollections of pieces gone, malformed, or simply extinguished into piles of ash, rubble, and simmering embers. The ocean would’ve been a monumental thing too – he hadn’t touched upon moonlit sand or the swell of a current, wave, in segmented lifetimes, parallel moments moving him onward, forward, into summits rather than his first homeland. There were things he savored about both; reaching, reaching, reaching for those heights, for those instances again – not quite the same, but likely granules of what once was or could be.

As for leaving, or departing, he tilted his head, the machinations running and churning. “I do not intend to do anything until we understand the land.” Moving wise; picking up everything and shifting into peak reaches and rising peaks - not until they’d explored it, until they’d heard, until they’d seen, until they’d visualized and pieced together their next set of actions. It was another set of calculations, something he’d always, eternally, corresponded too, pondering over the complexities, of the information he’d been told. As far as the Artisan’s Guild was concerned – it’d been namely three or four of them amidst its columns, with those seeking items or artifacts, with them extending their wares as best they could manage. He only lifted his brow at the notion of it catching fire; not delving too far into bristling components. “Perhaps we can find someone interested in it.” In more pursuits, in not letting it go to waste – he almost detested the notion of abandoning it, like it was another series of losses, another core portion of lives left to rot, wither, and decay when the next exciting thing came along. Then, there was another contortion to his caution, based on Rexanna’s prior words. “I am heedful due to the thought of Zariah’s existence there. I was told she has played a part in all of this.” Because one experience had been enough of a tyrannical tirade, and the uncertainty, the precariousness, of those notions only caused the slightest sting in advancing upon the mountains.
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 10,723 | Total: 16,193
MP: 3059
#10
our hands they seek the end of afternoons
"Smart." Remi said with a laugh. He was under no illusions that when they set off, he and Ronin would likely be doing so without proper planning. This of course, he didn't mind at all. "Would you be interested in it, then?" Remi's voice was soft and without any sort of encouragement or suggestiveness. He didn't hold tightly to the idea of the guild existing without him, or of its continued success (if indeed it had any to begin with). That said, if Deimos was planning on stay for a time and wanted it, the alchemist would be more than happy to hand it over.

"Oh?" Remi's smile narrowed for a moment, before he exhaled and shook his with a wry grin. "It would be like Zariah to ruin yet another land for us." He said wearily.
my hands believe and move over you

Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
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 Offline
Change author:
Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#11
DEIMOS
Smart clung to his frame, a head tilt in the refrain; sometimes it’d been cunning, sometimes it’d been malicious, sometimes it’d been manipulative – now it was just calculating, cautious, a juxtaposition between the temptation of the mountains calling in his blood, in his memories, and all the other things surrounding it. He’d lived in too many lifetimes to become drenched in impulsive, impetuous accord; even if that was Remi or Ronin’s preference – it was the means that worked best for them. His head lifted and his spine grew more rigid, a taller, more commanding stature, when the guild was offered to him.

Because he was shocked, baffled; by no means as capable as the alchemist, steadily gaining new platitudes and aptitudes every day, but unlikely as a suitable replacement. His eyes widened, and he swallowed some of the shock down, struggling to decipher why Remi continued granting and gifting, or what he’d done to deserve the honors, the rewards. “I can, for now.” Future lines drawn amongst uncertain parallels, a stretch of the unknown scorching his soul; but in this, a habitual, routine structure put in place, for the time being, something else to fall back upon if Zariah’s tethers were a maligning force all over again.

The only semblance of weariness from Remi appeared at the gesture of the tyrant’s name; a fair warning though, given how much the alchemist had been entangled in her grasp. “Unfortunately.” But it didn’t mean she’d have to stay there for long – if they were stronger now, greater now, if they could work together instead of eternally drifting apart on nuances, on hatred, on animosity (or if that was merely another venture, another sojourn, none of them could truly take, ruled and reigned by their acrimonious rewards and justifications – he amongst them). “What do you plan to do?" Or were their intentions simply that – diving in headfirst, and not looking back?
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 10,723 | Total: 16,193
MP: 3059
#12
our hands they seek the end of afternoons
“By no means do you have to.” Remi said with a boyish smile, wanting to ensure that he didn’t unnecessarily transfer the weight of obligation he felt, to Deimos. In truth though, to hear the Sword say for now was a monumental relief. Though Remi had always wanted a shop for himself, he realized quite quickly that he was not cut out for any sort of leadership.

Sighing ever so slightly, Remi let his fingers trial onto the bench before him as a thoughtful smile spread across his face. “Honestly? I just want a life that I am in control of. My whole life so far has not been that. As a commoner and a shapechanger I was at the very bottom of any sort of social ladder. There was little I could do without permission. And now..?” The alchemist’s cheeks rounded and were quickly dimpled with adoration for his husband and his daughter. “With Ronin and Aoife...I feel as if the world will never be enough, for all I wish to do with them.”

It was naive and boyish, but that was Remi all over, and the blush on his cheeks only further served to reinforce that gentle ideal.
my hands believe and move over you

Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
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 Offline
Change author:
Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#13
DEIMOS
Deimos shrugged; one more press on his shoulders, one more thing he’d strive to take responsibility for – people, places, things, a colossal fortress until even he sunk. He willingly took more and more on, and wouldn’t hold it against anyone if he toppled, if he fell, beneath the cumbersome weight he’d chosen to consecrate along the breadth of his potency and power. And while the capricious, mercurial outlooks didn’t coincide with the siren call of the mountains, for now echoing against his skull, he could wait, he could be patient, he could stoke on outlines and predacious efforts; stare into the variability and orchestrate means, foundations. How long had he remained in its stead, without the presence of summits, except in distant hazes, memories, and in the midst of slumber? This was one more test, one more challenge.

His piercing gaze locked back onto Remi as he told of his plans – control (a thing to grasp tightly, clench, never let go once it’d been captured, maintained), a space for a say in his own life, a direction, a shift, away from the cold-blooded contortions of yesteryears. The Sword granted his own slightly boyish smile, no airs of mischief, but contentment for Remi’s choices, decisions, that he should be able to ensue and direct his own paths. “Sounds like freedom.” A beatific liberation, deliverance, perhaps one of the more providential things citizens could grant themselves; to aspire, to slide ambition into something more than where they’d come from, permission from nothing and no one. Superiority, a master-class toiling for themselves, and for those they cherished. May you find your way he pressed through attuned bonds, because if any of them deserved the opportunity, it was the alchemist.
He was something solid
to lean against
violent and fierce and unmoving
Remi Taliesin
the Bastion


Age: 31 | Height: 5'11 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Torchline
Level: 15 - Strg: 68 - Dext: 60 - Endr: 100 - Luck: 93 - Int: 3
ORIA - Mythical - Spriggan (Ghost)
Played by: Odd Offline
Change author:
Posts: 10,723 | Total: 16,193
MP: 3059
#14
our hands they seek the end of afternoons
Lost in fantasies that would hopeful one day become memories, Remi's expression grew soft and adoring as his mind bloomed with images of laughter, vast starry skies, and joy so complete he thought he'd burst with it. "And you." He agreed, blinking slowly as Deimos' words softly interrupted his thoughts. Amalia had confessed her love for the large man seasons and seasons ago to him, and given the she and the Sword were still together, he could only assume she had indeed said it to him, and he back.

Sappy as it was, the alchemist was a romantic at heart, and he truly did hope that the pair of them found in each other all that they needed. And importantly, that the prospect of mountains wouldn't be a gulf too insurmountable for them.
my hands believe and move over you

Coding base by Sky!
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.


Forum Jump:


Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)


RPG-D