chaos is all they know

We're lost in the space between
who we are and all that we're trying to be

Machinations and calculations rendered themselves back to fruition – plans upon plans swarming through his mind. Too many years spent scheming, aspiring, and damning had leant him more a Machiavellian ilk towards potent, potential consequences, and with a maneuver already in the works, he wanted to instill defensive lines before a potential storm. If his twofold measures could be conjured, then perhaps there’d be benefits for LongNight and other ministrations from thereon.

No need for council member input any longer (or shackles or a mobile cage) his skull a whirl of probabilities and possibilities, marching his way towards the favored shrine with intended purpose. No ease of pace, no leisurely stroll, no listless motions, placing his gift: this time a singular, black metallic star, holes in the middle to hold a flame, little light seeping through its edges as dusk approached, he breathed in. On his exhale, he spoke towards the heralded sanction. “Safrin, I have an idea for LongNight.” And other things was left unsaid, but intermingled in the webs of his scrupulous designs.

DEIMOS

Stop trying to show how to save our souls
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts

find me on the

far side of the world

Unsaid perhaps, but not unheard.

Appearing in a gentle plum of periwinkle breath and starlit sighs, the goddess leaned against the stony cove of her shrine, regarding the Sword. "It's a rather ugly phrase, to say that one is all ears." Safrin mused, her perfectly painted lips turned up in a sweet smile. "Can you imagine it? What it would be to look upon a creature that was all ears?" Wrinkling her nose with disdain, she shook her head.

"I'll spare you that image of me, but suffice to say I am happy to hear your thoughts."

where the sun sets on the years

Safrin

Base Code by Sky!

We're lost in the space between
who we are and all that we're trying to be

The herald appeared, and he raised his eyes towards her – tilting his head a fraction as a bizarre stretch of humor and phrasing seemed to wax and wane. Was…she trying to make him laugh? To her credit, his mind was distracted for the moment at the notion of anyone with all ears, permitting her a fraction of the image before shaking it away entirely, snorting, the lightest of chuckles rendered.

But then again, back to business.

He inhaled, pondering how best to phrase the machinations coiling and contorting. “We have an upcoming mission,” and here he’d chisel the foundation of it through his mind, mental images of what might take place, if anything at all, for her to perceive, understand. “I suspect there will be repercussions if we are successful.” Damage and devastation, and his eyes glanced towards the shrine, the one he’d helped assist in building. “My thoughts were to somehow enact a defensive barrier to stop Ascendeds from coming to shrines of Old Gods.” Starting with this one, if they could manage it. He perceived it might not be possible with those dedicated to all, like the Temple, where the Voice was already embedded. Nonetheless, he was always one for striving, for trying. “And if that could be done, could we do the same for a door, to stop the monsters at LongNight?”

DEIMOS

Stop trying to show how to save our souls
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts

find me on the

far side of the world

A mission? Oh how perfectly dramatic. Colour her intrigued.

However when he explained what it was he was thinking, Safrin looked properly surprised. And pleased/ "Your lack of true devotion hasn't gone unnoticed Sword, and though I can guess at your motivations, I am surprised. Pleasantly so, but surprised just the same."

Giving him a thoughtful look, Safrin considered. "A barrier for a shrine of mine or my kin would indeed be possible...Not so for those we share with the Voice." Her perfectly painted lips turned up in a snarl. "The only reason such a thing would be possible is because our essence is tethered to these shrines...but during LongNight as you know, we are gone entirely from the Grounds, so no such protection can be given from us. However..."

Rocking back on her heels, Safrin closes her eyes and thinks. It has been a long while before the mortals have truly tested her ingenuity, and she finds herself wanting to rise to this challenge. "There might be a way.." She says, gaze finding the Sword once again. "In the way our essence protects our shrines, perhaps the essence of an ascended could reply the monsters...An upgrade freely given and no small amount of ascended fluid could be used to create a repellant for a door...One upgrade for each opening which needs to stop them..."

where the sun sets on the years

Safrin

Base Code by Sky!

We're lost in the space between
who we are and all that we're trying to be

Deimos had lived multiple lives never pledging himself to a single, or any, god. For the most part, they’d ignored him, his pleas for others falling either on deaf or detached ears, and in turn, he’d committed the same actions to them. He relied on himself or the faith in his friends. The day he Attuned was likely a step in this accord, not something he’d thought of or perceived in those circumstances (a rare oversight in calculations). He didn’t particularly enjoy the thought of becoming deeper and deeper entrenched into a herald’s hands – maintaining his own semblance of control was almost a singular design in his entity.

So the Sword arched a brow, but left no comment. His actions should’ve been louder than words anyway.

Instead, the mountain listened to the rest of Safrin’s speech, the considerations, the possibilities. “So the Temple would be off-limits,” he nodded in turn and understanding, since the Voice was already embedded within. But everything else – all the other shrines, seemed within the range of likelihood.

Thereafter though, came mighty steps, leaps, and bounds. Would there be an Ascended willing to do such a thing? Probabilities simmered along his cranium, pondering the lengths in which they would have to go. One might have been enough, if any were to be spared at all, for a front door, with everything else locked, like windows. It depended on whatever structure they managed to retain for the length of LongNight. “I can try.” Try to snag at amenable individual, try to extend reasons why it’d be a good idea to give up a part of their livelihoods. It seemed to be a stretch, but Deimos had never been one daunted or intimidated. If anything, it was a challenge, a goading, provoking thing, another layer and lacquer to help protect and shield the individuals meant to stay in the Grounds. “Is there anything else we would need?” For both things – a busy Deepfrost in store.

DEIMOS

Stop trying to show how to save our souls
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts

find me on the

far side of the world

That actions spoke louder than words was a tired old adage. Especially to a goddess who enjoyed hearing her praises sung. So as Deimos remained silent, Safrin indeed took note, her eyes narrowing a fraction. She knew little about the gods of his old world, but he'd indeed play by her rules if he sought her help so frequently.

"Unless there is a way to pry her ungodly essence from it. But if that were possible, we'd indeed have done it already." She agreed with a nod.

"Nearly half of their bodily fluid would be required. If you wanted them not to die of it, someone to ... have them do whatever it is they do to keep themselves alive would probably be useful. But no; just the upgrade and the door to be protected against them. When you have those two things, call for me at the location of your choosing."

where the sun sets on the years

Safrin

Base Code by Sky!

We're lost in the space between
who we are and all that we're trying to be

No, Safrin wouldn’t be aware of how he’d become witness to those manipulated and used by the gods – memories of Gaucho, of investigating murders, of a beast strong and enduring ultimately controlled and influenced by Helovia’s Moon Goddess into massacring a series of individuals. How he cautiously walked the line for before and thereafter, Kiada’s stories of Kaos withstanding the test of time too. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps Safrin was worth every ounce of devotion all the others granted and gave her. Perhaps he was vigilant and careful for all the wrong reasons. Perhaps he’d already dug himself in too deep, and didn’t see the fathoms below.

What would it even mean, really?

He agreed, another nod of his head, to the first of her speculations – recalling the way the Voice’s essence had slithered within the Temple the moment they’d attempted to recreate the shrine – notched and gnarling her way through, removing her an inconceivable notion.

The task set before him though, for the door (maybe the protection of this particular shrine, and others could come later), was difficult and monumental. Would there be such a willing Ascended? “Zuriel can heal them.” She’d done so before, when Rexanna had been impaled, keeping her together until the Voice could alter, repair, her back together. Or they could do it in sessions, so whomever volunteered didn’t succumb, didn’t wither and die. “I will,” an oath and conviction of his kind, and a nod of his head followed. “Thank you,” uttered on the wind, before he bowed his cranium in respect, drifting back out into the void to find an Ascended inclined to the latest attempts at protection.

{-FIN}

DEIMOS

Stop trying to show how to save our souls
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts