right back to you
Amalia <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: 1,618
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#1
DEIMOS
The dusk spread between his strides, a pace neither frenetic nor leisurely, strong and stalwart, conviction in their movement, an eternity of determination stoked in veins and lacquer. Entering the infirmary always brought some segments of ghosts and phantoms though, and maybe that’s why he stayed for short intervals, checking in on the Shield, then departing for duties and responsibilities before he was accused of hovering, returning in the evening. Here were stark moments spread in death and damnation; hers once, a LongNight scalding, and ruminations of another world entirely, when he could do absolutely nothing but watch his world crumble to pieces, drowned in the murk, in the rivers, in the currents of a lost rain.

Not now though – not when goddesses had given and granted him opportunity, not when he refused to be buried and burned under the rubble of their persecutions and perils; head above the surface, grasping for air and struggling to breathe, muscles unwinding, unfurling, begging to be released.

He made the familiar trek, threading through halls and parlors, ignoring the shape of the distorted temple nearby, the offshoot of fallen wares, bricks, and stones, clenching his jaw, biting down on the enamel in the back of his mouth, eyes shifting back to beds and bandages, finding hers in the fading light by the window, the press of the full moon promising, another moment to be fulfilled. There was too much silence, an indication of rest, so he shifted, quietly, across floorboards, as if he were part of the shadow, part of the darkness, before settling in a chair beside her cot.

Only then did a bone-deep exhaustion spread: from the hours, the days, the moments he’d spent piercing and puncturing, roaming and pushing, intending to not give or grant himself enough time to think about anything. Leaning forward, not mulling, not musing once more, he pressed his palms along the ivory sheets and surface, a heavy sigh looming in his chest, thinking about reaching for her hands somewhere in the midst – second guessing it thereafter, not wishing to disturb. So instead, his head followed, resting on forearms, eyelids threatening their heavy closure, and despite his rapid blinking, the strain, the fight, they slowly descended, brought him to slumber.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 22 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 11 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 30 - Luck: 31
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
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Posts: 1,745
MP:
#2
meet me where the falling stars live
i will wait for you
She does not wake when he enters, does not hear his steps on the stone. It is only when his eyes have drifted shut that Amalia's flutter open, slow as sunlight peeking over the horizon, the world coming into slow focus through her dark gaze.

It has been the same for days now, to the point where she knows what she will find before she finds it. There is the ceiling, cracked rock and old wood; there are the curtains strung around her bed. She never expected the Infirmary to become a place of such familiarity, and yet now she feels she knows each crevice of her little corner as well as she knew the stars that danced upon the ceiling of her room above her shop. That, too, had been a prison of sorts, gentle shackles to the past, keeping her from moving on through the dust and darkness that had held her for so long. How had she been able to overcome the apathy, she wonders, the ease with which she stayed so easily in the hold of depression and dark?

The answer, of course, is sitting beside her, head on her bedside, fast asleep.

Is he real? Amalia wonders, blinking at the crown, the figure, the man. Why is he here- what can she give him, broken creature that she is? He'd coaxed her from shadows into sunlight before, but now she cannot even carry herself. The ring on her finger feels like fire, a burning reminder of all he has offered, the debts she can't repay.

A sob rises, choking in her throat, as she places her hand upon his head, pushing a strand of hair from his face and knowing she does not deserve his smile, and that she is far too selfish to give it up.
day and night
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: 1,618
MP:
#3
DEIMOS
Succumbed to sleep the moment his head hit the mattress; coaxed by exhaustion, by fatigue, by a mental and physical weight crouched upon his shoulders, splintering and fissuring down his neck, his spine, his brawn. It was a void tended and stoked by passing days and webbed designs, a thousand calamities brandishing down into his machinations, fires to be put out, damage to be dealt, things to be found along his scattered soul. He might not have moved for hours, except moons were coaxing and requirements were daunting, always in the back of his mind: no dreams to savor, no nightmares quaking (they were already living in one).

Movement along his brow, a sweeping turn of his hair over skin, fingers stroking enticed and inveigled an awakening. Were he in some other land, other world, it would’ve been an immediate tensing, taut and rigid, composed into warrior upheavals and enamel the moment his eyes flickered open, gazing upon the world as if it were an adversary, as if everything was an enemy.

But he remembered where he was, and who it would be.

In another time, another place, he would’ve leaned in, taken every ministration and caress for what it was worth (everything), but they couldn’t live so languidly now, caught in the haze, snares, and traps. His eyes slowly opened, piercing depths immediately searching for her in the shadows, in the press of dusk and moonlight contorting through the windows. Then the Sword raised his head, blinking away the mystified stupor that came along with fogs and labyrinths, shaking it once or twice, as if trying to recall reality. But it was this for now. He hadn’t heard her sob or the choking, the smothering of it, deep in her throat. She hadn’t heard all his suffocated anguish either; pummeled and crumpled into his chest. “How are you?” slipped from his mouth, a whisper, as if his presence disturbed – fingers reaching instinctively for hers, a clench, a grasp, a tie to corporeal bonds.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 22 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 11 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 30 - Luck: 31
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,745
MP:
#4
meet me where the falling stars live
i will wait for you
He steals his fingers into hers, possession she gives into willingly, her own lacing earnestly alongside. Still prone, still quiet, surrounded as they are by sleeping figures and silver moonlight and the softly swaying sheets, Amalia feels a vulnerability, a deep fear and a deeper strength.

She almost laughs at his inquiry: it's a stupid question without an easy answer, but she appreciates it anyway. And she will not answer with the truth in its entirety, because he already knows a deal of it, shares it in the Attuned bond that reaches through their souls. Tired, weary, frightened, furious- at a loss for how to move forward, how to pick herself back up. Amalia is sad, and scared, and relieved. She is stubborn, and desperately ready to leave this place, and terrified by the prospect that she never will.

But those are not the things she says aloud. "I'm better now," is the whispered answer, her gaze seeking his through the dark: and it is honest, it is true. She is better, because he is there. "How are you?"
day and night
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: 1,618
MP:
#5
DEIMOS
Frustrated, vexed, tired – he didn’t say a multitude of things either, kept them at bay, kept them down in the wake of his transgressions, in the patterns and networks he’d chosen to follow. Perhaps they match that accord, in a way, the unknown not really so vast and deep: both tired, both insouciant, both unraveling, fumbling through bonds, a slip of the vestiges and veneers, grappling with unsaid notations and things that weren’t really furtive or secretive. He didn’t need to think or say what the stark difference was: clear and vast.

Better now held too many meanings, but the Sword didn’t ask anymore; didn’t believe it was his influence, wouldn’t toil into its ramparts. The fiend didn’t even know how to place an answer into her own inquiry, a volleying back and forth of ruins and runes that wouldn’t require much deciphering, if given into the unraveling, if given into the fumbling strands. I am fine didn’t constitute anything but meaningless drivel, and it wasn’t true, and she deserved more than lies sputtering on his tongue. He likely wouldn’t be until she was.

Leaning closer, careful not to disturb the patchworks of darkness, the threads threatening to pull at seams, more hushed whispers coincided, still rumbles in the dusk. “Busy,” and there was a smile, mischievous, devilish in the shadows, somewhere in the quiet, of plans and ministrations, of moments he hoped would lead to healing and soothing. His eyes slipped to the full moon broadening outside the window, then back to her. “Come with me? I have a task I cannot do alone.”
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 22 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 11 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 30 - Luck: 31
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,745
MP:
#6
meet me where the falling stars live
i will wait for you
Of all the answers she expects to hear, busy is not among them- and if there is a bright flame of envy to be found in her face at the response, can she truly be blamed? She has anything but busy of late, confined to the surface of the hospital bed: she has been stagnating in her body and mind, becoming more worthless by the day. "That's nice," she replies, a little sardonic, her head falling back and her eyes rolling up. "I've been busy, too. I moved my toe today."

She doesn't see him look out the window, but her eyebrow raises in clear surprise at the declaration that he needs assistance in a task - assistance from her. She, who once would have jumped at the opportunity to stand by his side through any endeavor- what can she possibly do for him now?

She does not say this, doesn't voice the pain that is her clear inadequacy. Instead she says the same thing she has said to everyone who's attempted to ease her out of bed this past week, her voice a little sharp. "I'll come with you when I can walk," Amalia murmurs, looking away. "It's not like I can really help you with anything right now, anyway. Unless it requires slightly wiggling a toe."
day and night
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: 1,618
MP:
#7
DEIMOS
It might not have mattered at all what he said (leaving out the bits and pieces that a majority of these movements and motions had been for her), listening to the derisive way she answered; absorbing the blow and the bitterness. He understood why. He expected it, truly, in the wake of things she faced. Whether or not he deserved it was another notion, eyes falling away from hers, to the bed, the crisp white linen with its own residual glow, and down to where toes moved. His smile receded, small, but there, proud, determined, still stalwart because anything else meant fumbling and falling. At least she was trying – because there could be worse moments, tenser, tauter fragments, and his jaw clenched, silenced in the lull.

The Sword’s gaze only landed back on her when her sharpened tone carried and she refused; another expectation, anticipation. The layers of impish accord hadn’t worked, a trial, a farce at best perhaps. Complete utter composure was the only sentiment he had remaining, chiseling away at the foundations, at the fortifications, digging deeper and deeper into emboldened tenacity. Deimos didn’t bite or claw into the other comments, only the latter, only the last, taking opportunity where he could. “It does.” And ordinarily he would respect her wishes, to a certain degree (at least in bemusement standpoints), but his shoulders were mighty and his soul could withstand a few more blunt, keen shots in his direction.

And without a further word or warning, his hands pulled off sheets, intending to slip his arms underneath her legs, and lift her straight off the bed, curling her back into his chest.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 22 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 11 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 30 - Luck: 31
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,745
MP:
#8
meet me where the falling stars live
i will wait for you
She might have laughed a barbed response at the idea of her toe serving any use, but suddenly the sheet is ripped off her broken body, and the laughter changes to a yelp of surprise. She doesn't feel his hands slip under her legs, but she does feel the one that grasps her back.

"Deimos, what are you doing?" Weak as she is she can do nothing but seethe as she's lifted into his arms, her voice a sharp whisper of fury and reprimand. She'd told him she did not want to leave until she could do it if her own accord, rejected chairs and horse rides and lifts as the inevitably of her permanent state only solidified in her breast. She'd resigned herself to being in the bed forever, been relieved by it even, because at least that way she wouldn't do more damage.

It's hard to fail everyone when you give up even trying.

Amalia's arms snake around Deimos' neck, her face burying against his chest. There are tears in her eyes, tears on his shirt: "I'm not ready," she whispers, begs, pleads. "I- I- I'm never going to be ready. There's no point in going back outside. I'm broken."
day and night
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: 1,618
MP:
#9
DEIMOS
He half-expected some retort, a flinging, a flailing of limbs at his bones, might’ve welcomed it along with the rest of the tempestuous ire, understanding, comprehending, the vitriol, the vehemence. He didn’t bother answering the first, maneuvering quietly, softly, trying not to jar as she seethed, as the reprimand sunk into his skin, as his hollowed-out, carved vessel strode through the infirmary. His face was a bastion of indifference when everything else threatened to crumble around him, and he was so damn tired of this inevitable sway. He would’ve fallen apart too, on every word, on every hiss, on every sibilance, driven himself right into the mire, never bothering to resurface.

One hand remained tethered to her as he went to open the door, as he went to bid them some sort of freedom, some sort of liberation, some sort of deliverance. That she didn’t want.

Beneath it all, he wondered just what that meant. If she was giving in, if after all of the persistence, all the endurance, all the perseverance, this was the crack, the fissure, that did her in. If there was naught left.  If anything he said would do a damn bit of good. If anything he’d done, already committed to, mattered at all.

So instead of leaving, he turned, leaning against the aperture, holding her in his arms, wanting, wishing, for the world to cease its contemptuous spin for half a moment. He curled her closer; desperate in the grasp, in the shuddering breaths, fatigued, controlled to a fault, so he didn’t splinter here. “You are not broken,” was a crackling whisper; because he knew what it meant to flicker apart into shards, into fragments, into nothing more than a wandering vessel. “You are healing, and it will take time.” Her toes wiggling meant something was happening – a change for the good. If he could accomplish his other tasks, then it might be all the faster, all the swifter. “But you cannot waste your life in here.”
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 22 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 11 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 30 - Luck: 31
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,745
MP:
#10
meet me where the falling stars live
i will wait for you
She stays there, wrapped within his arms, trapped and confined like a dying thing, unable to do anything but breathe. She stops fighting him quickly, too tired, too aware that it's a pointless endeavor. Once she may have been able to struggle, to wriggle free and assert herself, but now... well, now she lacks even the will to hold to her frustration for long.

"I am broken," she protests softly, her voice breaking as she shudders with sobs. She feels she might shatter if he were to let him go, that his arms are the only thing keeping her body and soul in check. It would be easier to break apart, she thinks, and part of her wants it desperately, just as surely as part of her wants to stay in the cage of the infirmary forever.

Shaking, shivering, she presses closer against him, her hands entwining in his hair as she tries to hide from the inevitability of her failure. "Every time... everything just goes wrong. And hurts. And it's so hard to keep being okay, Deimos, and if I go outside I have to pretend that I'm okay again."
day and night
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: 1,618
MP:
#11
DEIMOS
It’d always been an inevitable twist and turn of this world: that they dig in, that they soldier on, that they maneuver forward because there was nothing else to do but lie in a heap, but sink into the marrow of their failures. He understood the nuances because he’d been doing the same thing, marching steadily on after each and every disaster, pummeling onward when everything scorched and sizzled and seared, carrying more scars, more lacerations, more demises across his shoulders, down his spine. They were heavy, they were cumbersome, and they were annihilating, and for some reason it broke his heart to ask her to bear another one. But if she gave in, with every ounce of spirit and conviction once laden within her soul, then what was the point of him going on?

He said nothing when she protested again, when the soft utterance fell over his flesh, when his lungs heaved another infernal sigh into the darkened corridors of the infirmary. While she shook and while she sobbed and while he wanted to fizzle and fragment just as readily, just as easily, he knew he couldn’t. “You do not need to pretend. You do not need to be okay.” Acceptance, just as easy as his breath filtering into the space of healing and mending, swallowing down the bile threatening to clamber over his throat, hands ensuring she was pressed into his chest, safe for the moment. “We are all recovering.” Constantly – rebounding from one thing to the next, and it was exhausting. It was fatiguing. It was damning and plaguing. And while she’d been shattered in mind and body, there were others just as broken, beaten, or aflame. There’d be no judgments cast. There’d be no stones thrown.

The Sword leaned back against the doorframe as if it were a lifeline, a tether, a lock and key. “I went to see Safrin about healing you.” And blessings, but those didn’t really matter now. “She gave me some tasks, and one I have to complete now.” Beneath the full moon, outstretched arms reaching for water intertwined within its luminous grasp. But he let the rest of it fall; desperation curling into his accord, devastation piecing and patching their seams together – when it should’ve, could’ve been so much more. He didn't know whether she'd be angry or cross with him for trying at all.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 22 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 11 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 30 - Luck: 31
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,745
MP:
#12
meet me where the falling stars live
i will wait for you
You do not need to be okay. But doesn't she? Isn't it what everyone has been telling her - you'll be okay, you'll get over it, stop pitying yourself, it could be worse? Or perhaps that is what she has been telling herself, the admonishments ringing through her ears in a howling wind, loud enough to drown out whatever feeble hope she has left. "What if I don't recover?" she whispers, voice almost faint enough so as to be unheard, ignored. "What if my legs never work again, Deimos?" What if I stay weak and worthless forever?

And, worse, what if she doesn't? What if she regains the ability to walk tomorrow, and all the responsibilities that would accompany such a thing? She's hidden so long in the infirmary walls, hating her prison but clinging to it, too, the protection it offers from the reality of without.

His next comment is unexpected, catching her between her lungs with the force of a falling stone. Her voice is the air punched from between her ribs: "You went to Safrin?" What did she say? Is she furious with me? leaks out in the Attuned bond, something small and young and insecure flickering over her now-upturned face. A task to complete now, a job from Safrin- and oh, if he doesn't know the magic words to get her to consider the unthinkable, to itch to leave this confined place and prove herself again. And for her- "Is that why you wanted my help?"
day and night
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: 1,618
MP:
#13
DEIMOS
He didn’t have all the answers. He might’ve been just as lost as she was, except his legs functioned; the infirmary a haunting world, a pressing ward of hallowed graces and hollowed shelves (he’d never received any good news within these sorts of places – like ghosts, like rain, like fires and LongNights). “Then we will figure it out.” We; it’d never been just her or just him, a promise, a conviction, a vow they’d made along thresholds and afters. Perhaps it would take time and patience, composure and more and more strength until they all merely fell apart – but he had other trials, other notions to explore before they frayed and gave in.

Safrin’s name spilled and whispered across the intangible void had earned its keep; he hadn’t meant to spring it upon her as a means of manipulation or finagling – an explanation of what he was doing, what he was striving to accomplish. His brow furrowed in the dark, pulling back so the piercing depths of his eyes maneuvered straight back to her onyx ones, a tilt of his head, pondering why on earth she would’ve thought the goddess was angry at her. She’d tried, she’d been mauled, and she remained here, struggling to right some supposed wrong. No, she was not mad. A pause, wondering which contortions to unravel. The parts where Safrin mentioned he wasn’t worthy of the Shield? The parts where Safrin condemned Jigano again? The nature of another surprise, when wedding bands were eventually placed upon fingers? I went to ask if you could be healed. She gave me a quest. A sad smile warped its way around his mouth, a billow of a sigh. “Yes.” Back and forth, attuned connections and the forefront of matters too close to home. “I need water from the Oasis during a full moon.” In a crystal jar, no less. He hadn’t forgotten – the container already made, waiting in his bag. Come with me? tried again, in the quiet, in the hushed platitudes, in the weight of circumstances.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
Amalia Chandrakant
the Shield of Safrin
Baker
Portal Guardian
Age: 22 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural
Level: 11 - Strg: 31 - Dext: 30 - Endr: 30 - Luck: 31
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: charks Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,745
MP:
#14
meet me where the falling stars live
i will wait for you
She was not mad. Relief floods from her in a wave, tension dripping off her, her body slowly relaxing against him, muscle by muscle, nerve by nerve. If Safrin isn't angry its a great weight off her mind; she hadn't realized how concerned she'd been about the goddess' fury until she learned it was not directed at her. Oh, she whispers softly, gently, the syllable curling like smoke in her mind. I was afraid she might be mad because... because I couldn't stop Ronin. Because she couldn't save him, or the temple, or anything else.

A quest- it brings her back to the present, the purpose behind it making her blink as realization and gratitude swell within her mind. "To fix me?" she questions pointlessly, scanning his face once again, her earlier grief wasting away into wonder. "You... you did that for me? She's going to do that for me?" Quests, healing, midnight water- and what has she done to deserve it but break, shatter and smolder in his arms?

It is enough to make her nearly break down into sobs again.

Nesting against her lover's chest, the Shield exhales a shuddering sigh. How will I get there? she asks him silently, the agreement tacit in the shift of her mental tone. I can't walk, and you can't carry me the whole way.
day and night


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