[Mini Event] can we bring to fall the giants

neron

It was carnage. Neron had watched the towers fall, watched the gates, watched the Eirachi's devout try to storm through, and whilst he had wanted to go and join those holding them back, there had been so much that needed his attention.

And, seeing both Zariah and Loren heading into the fray, he had decided there was quite enough Launceleyns dealing with the problem for one night.

That decision had led him here now, in a large square where, once upon a time, he'd taken part in a bonfire and a song for Safrin. There were no celebrations to be had now - but there was a bonfire. Neron had to stay well back from the flames, but the guards and other citizens were feeding it fuel, and he was busying himself in fortifying the damaged houses and businesses with ice.

The injured were taking shelter around the fire, though it was too cold even there, and his Ascended body informed him of that fact with increasing urgency, even though he would take no damage from it.

Soot smeared, with torn clothes and fluid leaking from a still-closing wound above his eye, Neron headed now to the street entrance, working on corralling further people to safety. How well it would be received was beyond him; the Eirachi's call had echoed well across the Citadel, and he was not ignorant to its implications.

you're so cold, put your hand in mine

Coding base by Sky!

She came with a fiery vengence - battle worn but standing tall. Not only had he brought this upon the Citadel with his cowardice, but he had not even manned the front lines. And as much as Zariah seethed with growing hatred, she could not have been more pleased. Blessed be, the Eirachi. "NERON!" she shouted, tails of her torn jacket whipping in the icy wind. Hazel eyes glared daggers as they locked on to the Warden. If only looks could kill. Her body ached, limbs trembling not from cold but exhaustion. "You incompetent, cowardly, self-righteous fool. Look what you have wrought with your stupidity!" she shouted with passion and anger coloring her words. zariah If my strength intimidates you, I hope you realize that is a weakness of yours.

LOREN

They'd had to take care of the guards bodies first. Loren hadn't been able to save them, but he would at least make sure they had a proper send off. Or as proper a send off as they could give them under the circumstances.

After checking to make sure no one else in their crew was seriously injured, he'd healed himself as well as Morgan and Weaver if they agreed to it. After the damage from the Eirachi, he didn't want to take the chance they were nursing a wound. Zariah, unfortunately, was on her own.

Healing done, he faced the gates. Ice grew, trying to plug the hole until they could come up with a more permanent solution. After tat, he staggered towards where he could see the light.

At the sight of Neron, the healer's expression had tightened. However, he went to walk by the Warden. Reaching out with one hand, Loren laid it on his twin's shoulder.  The healer began helping to shepherd the citizens to safety. "Where are the wounded?" Exhaustion, grief, and horror made Loren's voice shake, and he spoke in a quiet whisper.

Then Zariah's voice rang out and he gritted his teeth. Spinning to face her, he planted himself firmly between his relatives. "Enough!" His voice rang out as loud and sharply as hers. "This is neither the time nor the place for this conversation. Let's get everyone to safety and warmth."

But don’t be weary if it’s broken

Families are like that—

they’re split up and always torn.

neron

Neron didn't think there would be a time when he was so pleased to see his twin, but there they were. He nodded brusquely, understanding his expression but relieved nonetheless to not have this conversation right now, touching a hand to the one his brother laid upon his shoulder. "They are by the fire, where they can be kept warm," he told him. "More may be in people's homes, where it was safer. I've got people checking - I'll send them your way," he said.

Then of course, Zariah appeared - and she did want to have that conversation. "This doesn't help anyone right now," he agreed, his voice comparatively quiet to the other Launceleyns. "Tear pieces off me, by all means, but once the people of the Citadel are safe and warm."

you're so cold, put your hand in mine

Coding base by Sky!

"Neither time nor place says the man who conveniently disappears whenever he becomes oh so sad." Zariah snapped at Loren, clearly unconcerned with his views on propriety. "Get people who have no other shelter into the Academy. That at least is in tact." she said, cold gaze turning to Neron. "And the only reason that is standing is because I do not think myself above a goddess and jump from chain to chain. I demand you step down from your position immediately - before the Eirachi has time to reconsider and return." she hissed, anger clear in her voice. "A coward is not fit to rule a place such as Halo. Thank the gods you've family and friends who can." zariah If my strength intimidates you, I hope you realize that is a weakness of yours.

She wore her scars as her best attire. A stunning dress made of hellfire.

She lets Loren heal her, making her way back into the heart of the Citadel to try and find Korbin, to make he was okay. She can’t quite think about what just happened, about how easily she watched so many people burn beneath her own magic. She should feel something like remorse, and yet she doesn’t. They needed to die, and so she’d done it.

Yet the sound of Zariah screaming, the sight of Neron and Loren draws her. Fuck. Just fuck. Fury rages in her veins at the sight of them squabbling. Fury at the sight of Neron because this is his fault. Her people were dead because of his choices. Because of his family.

”Three Launceleyn’s walk into a town,” she says as she approaches, like it’s a joke, though there is no trace of humor in her voice. ”And destroy it. I admit, I am very sick of other people coming in and destroying my home. Of ruling my home.” Neron is responsible, the Academy still stands (no matter how hard Zariah fought, Weaver has not forgotten). The only one she trusts in this group is Loren. If Zariah thinks anyone in Halo will accept her in Neron’s place, she has another thing coming.

”Send them to the Kraai. We will take care of them, find them roofs and warmth. We have no reason to trust you have our best interests at heart.” The faces of the dead and the injured were faces she’d known all her life. Friends, fellow hunters, people who had cared for her when she’d lost all but Korbin. They were her people, and she could no longer stand by and watch Outlanders pretend to care.

Weaver

NOAH

I can't wait for this no more,
My eyes have come undone

His world crumbled around him, and all Noah could do was push people into the Arcane Academy for safety. He had no magic to give, he had no magical weapons to yield. His only ability was to transform into a reindeer. He focused on protecting his fellow Halovians the only way he could. He held people he had provided for and loved for years now, pressed screaming children against his chest and, somewhere deep inside of him, he prayed. It was all he could do.

The battle came to an end, and the Eirachi's cry was not lost on the Olson. Noah did not have intimate details of the gods, but all Halovians knew the tale of the icy spirit. Her voice was unmistakable.

They emerged into the world again, ice and blood and fire. He stood for a moment and scanned, taking in the familiar faces of the guards he knew -- those he grew up with, those who's children he had just sheltered and held and comforted. "Delphine, help gather up the wounded and take them wherever the other healers decide is good.", he looks to her and gives her a firm nod, reassuring her that this was the right thing to do. He looked upon Weaver, then, and he moved towards her. Without hesitating, he ran towards her. He could feel the cold biting at him despite his heavy covering, but he paid no mind to it. He would be warm soon enough. She was charging towards the leadership, and as Noah's eyes fell on Neron, his entire body prickled.

Rage coursed through his veins. The Warden had done only what Noah had, but the sound of the Eirachi saying his name, his sin, echoed in his mind. He stood beside Weaver, tall and strong and angry. He wanted to reach out and grab the woman, to hold her and thank her for what she had done and the bravery she had shown. But he wouldn't, not yet. He was her sentinel, now, standing supportive and just as furious.

Too many Wardens had been raised to power and fallen. Too many to count. None of them, however, caused this catastrophe, nor anything near it, in Noah's lifetime. While Noah, admittedly, did not know this Warden or take the time to change the unknown between them, he hated everything about him. Noah's fists clenched at his sides.

His jaw feathered and set, and he anted to spew a thousand words of poison towards the Warden. He glanced to Loren, but ignored his words. This was a time to have this conversation. "What sin did the Eirachi speak of, Warden?" The title, coming from the Olson's mouth, was nothing but an insult.

If my star will ever rise,
Let it be the only one

LOREN

"When I said enough, I meant enough." The words were deadly quiet as Loren glared at Zariah. "You do not want to force my hand right now."

As Weaver approached, Loren shot her a grateful smile, even if she did lump him in with his family. At her words though, he gave Neron a regretful look. Then the healer shook his head and went to stand by the bartender and Noah. "Actually, I renounce my name. I am no longer a Launceleyn." The words were easier to speak than Loren had expected. "That name has brought nothing but pain."

As Noah spoke, Loren bit his lip, falling silent. Apparently, the Warden (for now) would have to tell the world his secret. His efforts to stop this conversation from happening here and now had failed, but they still had a rescue to pull off.

"The Kraai is closer, and more centrally located. It will work better to coordinate our efforts." Then he raised his voice. "The attack is over. There are dying and wounded people to attend to, which means this is now this squarely in my purview as Grand Healer. Either listen to me or get out of my way. Survivors, go to the Kraai. If there are individuals too wounded to move, fetch me and I will attend to them."

Then he turned and gave the Archmage a suspicious look. "Since you brought it up, I find it strange that the Academy is fully intact when the rest of the Palace is in shambles." He narrowed his eyes and scowled at her. "Did you make a deal with the Eirachi? Your safety, and the safety of your precious school, at the expense of the rest of Halo?"

But don’t be weary if it’s broken

Families are like that—

they’re split up and always torn.

Zariah's eyes scan over to Weaver, fury eveident in her features. "I will not take the blame for this. This is all Neron's doing." she said, fists clenched, glaring at the Warden once more. Soon more faces appeared, some she recognized, others she didn't. A man piped up with a question and the Archmage turned to face him. "A broken contract." she said, glancing at Weaver once more. Of course, Loren had to speak up and accuae her as well. Gods forbid she actually did anything to help others after all. "The Eirachi had demanded his firstborn for his own power and safety here, and instead of giving this child to her, he ran to the Voice so he need not repay it." she said, glaring at Neron. "But that firstborn child was also my child. And so I gave her our son. I could not save much for the insult Neron caused, but it saved the Academy, which has beds, kitchens, and space for those displaced." she said. "I chose it for its size and the way it is outfitted, Loren. I had the people in mind not myself. IFf I had my safety in mind why would I have been fighting at the gate?" Once more she looked at Weaver. "I sacrificed my own to protect those I could in this place. Neron ran from those decisions for his own benefit." zariah If my strength intimidates you, I hope you realize that is a weakness of yours.

She wore her scars as her best attire. A stunning dress made of hellfire.

She feels Noah’s presence, bolstered somehow by the man that stands beside her now. Her scythe is on her back again, blood and dirt streaking her skin, Loren’s unicorn horn tucked into her belt with her knives. Though she is not a large woman, she is imposing, fiery in her anger nonetheless. Those that gather remind her that this is her home, and though she does not believe the intentions of any of the Launceleyn’s was bad, intentions no longer matter. Her people were suffering. Her town was destroyed. And for what?

Weaver turns her attention to Loren as he speaks, and she gives him a nod as he finally renounces that name of his. There is a slight smile on her lips, though it is short lived. He takes over, ordering the survivors to the Kraai and she is grateful that he listens. At the Kraai, she knows her staff will already be helping, knows that Korbin will be as well if he is not drawn out by this debacle.

Zariah insists it is all Neron’s doing, and that she believes, as the Eirachi only uttered his name. Still, Loren asks the question she wants to know as well, and Weaver listens to Zariah without judgment. She hears the rest of the story, already knowing Neron’s part in this. ”So you knew?” Her voice is quiet now, but as wicked as the blade on her back. ”And who did you tell, so that maybe we could have done something before our home was destroyed?” The question is pointed, because though Zariah had given them the Academy, she had still known and done nothing else.

”I do not blame you as I do Neron,” she says to Zariah, ”but do not expect Halo to stand behind you as Warden, if that is what you are hoping for.” There might be a place for Zariah here, but not as she will want. ”Nor you, Neron.” she adds, looking Neron’s way for a moment and there is something sad in her eyes. She had been on his side, but now? Now she had to do what was right.

Weaver

Morgan

Before she could come to argue and discuss, she had to mourn. Not that it could be done in such a quick time, but there were basic things one could do. Close the eyes of each dear friend, line them up for burial, straighten up their armour as best as she could, let her shaking fingers stroke hair into neat lines and put hands together over the chest.

When this was done, Morgan stood and turned towards the Citadel, walked in with her warhammer balanced in her hands, the weight of it evenly placed as was her mood, oddly calm and jaw set as she took one step after another. She saw Neron, Loren, Zariah, Weaver..some she didn't recognise, all arguing and talking...she walked right past them.

To Neron. The rest she could deal with later.

Reaching as hard and quick as she could to grab his collar and pull him close, her mastered water magic coming up to freeze at his legs, she hissed: "You are done here."

We knew that all this fun and games

Was another big fib to hide the chains

i can't be your midnight love, when your silver is my gold

She can hear the shouting a ways away, gritting her teeth and ignoring the blood that drips from superficial cuts along her cheeks and neck. She helps to haul a few of the grounders toward the academy prior before continuing on, tugging to fix torn clothes and pull the wild hair that’s escaped from the braid away from her face. And then? Then the Harpy marches toward the argument.

Iceberg eyes are cold, feathers peer from along her neck, sharpened teeth gnashing together momentarily as she hears the argument for all its worth. The Kraai or the Academy, rulers and Outlanders. And she’s the one that’s supposed to make the best choice for the Grounders now. Already too many thoughts race through her mind, wondering and hoping that Chulane made it out okay.

If Kiada’s being honest, she’s had enough of the Launceleyn’s for a lifetime. “The Grounders who want to will be moving into the Kraai for the duration of Deepfrost.” She announces, for what it’s worth, moving to stand beside Weaver and glance over at the woman to ensure she’s alright, before her cold gaze drifts back to everyone else around, feeling the blood begin to freeze along her skin.

i can't be your second best, close but not your favorite

i keep going back for more, when there's nothing from before

KIADA

KORBIN

And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,

It had been mayhem such as he had never experienced before in his life. Ice crashing into the city, houses destroyed, people injured and dead, and screams echoing in the night. The cold was bitter and dangerous, but Korbin couldn't afford to let it stop him. His house was unscathed, and so was the Kraai, and his first thoughts went to those that were indeed less fortunate. He was a healer; he had a job to do, and as Noah guided people into the Academy, Korbin followed the stream of people inside to start tending to wounds.

He could only make stop gap measures. He had no magic, no powers to aid him, and had to resort to the very basics. Tourniquets to stop bleeding, bandages to patch up wounds, often torn from the patients own clothing, and quick instructions to others that were on their feet and able to help. It was not enough, never enough, and the cold was ever present, encroaching upon them all.

And beneath the cold cool of his mind as he rushed from task to task, the worry for his sister ate at him. She wasn't inside, which meant she had to be out there still. And when that unearthly scream put an end to the sound of battle, hurling accusations, he couldn't stand it anymore. There were enough hands here that could do as much, if not more good than him.

Korbin went to find his sister, and found her squaring off with the Launceleys. Or two of them, at least; he arrived in time to hear Loren's very timely denouncing of his own name, and ground his jaws at how convenient it was, that the man should leave his family now, of all times.

With hands covered in the blood of others, smudges and smears of it flecking his face where he had touched his own face, the young raven slipped in to stand beside his sister, with a grim half smile of gratitude towards Noah. His blue eyes were cold as he took in Neron and Zariah; then he simply ignored them, leaving Morgan to do whatever she pleased - violence and demands seemed to be on the agenda. Korbin quietly approved.

"There are people inside that need your healing," he told Loren. Turning to Weaver, he gave her a long, thorough once-over to ensure that she was not dying. "Where do you need me?" he asked her simply, in a quiet, unquestioning show of support. Whatever she chose to do, he would be with her.

Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.

neron

Well, this was all falling the fuck to pieces, wasn't it.

Neron didn't really have time to comprehend any one thing - Loren denouncing himself officially (because it's all about you, little brother); Zariah demanding that he step down, and dropping the bombshell about something he had been living with for years before she showed up with a convenient child in tow, a child she had apparently traded away, Zariah, what the fuck; Noah's questions; Weaver's vitriol, and to top it all off with a cherry, Morgan's rough-housing.

"Not yet I'm not," he said through clenched teeth to the captain, steel blue eyes hard, though there was no tension in him. "If you all want me to step down, I will. But not tonight - not unless one of you steps up and takes control of this mess, with everyone in agreement. So who's it going to be?" He narrowed his eyes, glancing across the crowd gathering. "Morgan? Zariah? Weaver, maybe? Or my now-nameless brother? Who's going to make sure things keep running, when dawn comes and things are still carnage? Like it or not, I built this city up for the past two years, and I won't leave it without a Warden."

you're so cold, put your hand in mine

Coding base by Sky!