broadripple is burning

if you don't terrify people a little then what's the point

While Deimos finished with the turkey, extending slices of it to each member of the party, Amalia cut. Maybe because the possibility had already been coiled in his mind from previous conversations, it didn’t hurt him as hard, but the wait for the answer immersed itself with some form of dread. The what ifs lingered haphazardly, the apprehension contorting and wrapping itself around his ribcage – desperate not to lose anyone else.

The foundations of the meeting set, and Kiada seemed to settle the doldrums waging their way through him, coaxing an inaudible sigh of relief. He sat back down, fingers toying with the edges of the wine glass, waiting for some other multitude to come their way. Chulane’s answers provided substance and merit as far as locations; the Voice plucking him from Earth and Australia, but the Sword didn’t have anything else to go on. Worlds upon worlds upon worlds apart, and brought here to be manifested opportunities. But he planned on staying, and then prevailing through the distance. Living together was quick, foundations settled over naught more than a season, but perhaps he was being picky and brooding. Thereafter, he upped the ante, rumbles and reverberations conspiring, an evident nonchalance and impassiveness piercing his features; giving nothing away. “What drew you to Kiada?” The Sword and Shield were already well versed in the Harpy’s abilities, foundations, personality, and traits – did Chulane recognize their worth too?

Then, satisfied for the moment, his attention riveted back to Kiada. “I have something for you.” Ignoring his food, the beast concentrated and unfurled incantations between his palms, melding earth, fire, and creation into their bestial distortions. They snapped to attention easily, efficiently, unleashed as they had so many seasons before, when everything hadn’t been lost and scattered. The chiseled sanctions came together in a familiar style; she’d recognize it instantly from her previously-made armor; her outlines of fire, her touches of Helovia, her branches and brambles of the past brought to the present. Except this time, it was a helmet, meant to shift in whatever mold, whatever form, she took. “To complete the set,” he intoned, handing it to her.

--

Deimos has made:
Shifting Helmet: Bronze helmet armor to shift and shrink with an attuned’s animal forms.

DEIMOS

I belong to you the way the moon belongs to the stars

Wherever Chuy comes from interests Amalia far less than what he intends to do, to bring to the world he has found himself in, the world into which she was born. Earth is not an unfamiliar name, a seeming origin for many others, but Caido is what matters now. Caido and Kiada and their gods and their world, something so many Outlanders have treated with flippant disregard. At least Chulane has already won points through his contribution to the fields of the Grounds. Though the fact that he will soon return to Halo leaves something sour in her mouth.

So they plan to retain distance, working through a relationship built upon the portals. Amalia cannot rightly say what she thinks of this idea; she has lived in confines for so long that any distance feels almost insurmountable, the world still incoherently vast to her mind. Chewing thoughtfully on a bite of turkey, she lets him finish his declaration, stashing away her judgment for now.

Deimos takes the lead both in questions and gifts, Amalia remaining quietly thoughtful, her dark eyes only leaving Chulane to see how Kiada will react to the present. Only after that is finished does she return to the man, too severe to soften her line of questioning now that the door is ajar. "What do you think of the gods?"

the stars in your eyes will bring me back
and once again, i will kiss the sky

Amalia

if through some miracle, you are granted the chance to see him again

whether in this life or the next

She trusts and believes Chulane will be able to survive under the scrutiny that her family would place on him. And his answers do certainly offer what Kiada’s looking for, at least, a soft smile lingering on her face after she pipes up her response and spies his own smile sent back toward her. The idea of staying, of remaining longer despite the fact that Halo would need him, speaks volumes to her. She hopes that it speaks just as much to Amalia and Deimos.

His compliment certainly does spark a bit of a flare along her neck, her cheeks, a softness lingering on her face with the idea of it – of him returning and staying with her regardless of where that is. She wonders if that’s when the Ningo farm is done, whether it’s after the next big thing happens too. It’s hard to say, but she’s hopeful.

All those thoughts, however, disperse when Deimos mentions that he’s got something for her – her attention shifting from her plate and the bite she’s taken to focus on her father figure as he stands. There’s a raise to her brows as she spies the helmet – a swift grin crossing her face as she looks at him. “You didn’t!” She chirps, moving to stand beside his seat, to grasp the bronze helmet and slip it on.

As always, it fits comfortably, well and snug without there being discomfort in any place within it. But that’s not the only test – she spends a moment shifting into her Caracal shift, the helmet shifting with until dark ears point up and out of the bronze hues. A pulse of thankfulness and appreciation floods outward from her – to anyone there, and she shifts back into herself to wrap her arms around Deimos in a very tight hug, all questions forgotten for the moment. “It’s perfect! Thank you so much!”

you are, and always shall be, his

KIADA

when all the pretty birds have flown, take a chance on me

What drew him to Kiada? It wasn't a question he had anticipated, but there was no denying the wholesome way his face lit up as he pondered over the answer. He let the attention shift from him a moment, however, letting the gift be given, the helm to match the armour set he'd heard of that first day he'd met her. He watched with fascination and abject pleasure as the joy it brought her was plainly apparent, as she tried it on and shifted, taking the time to admire both the craftmanship of the helm and the beauty of her anew. And when her wave of gratitude flowed through, though he knew it wasn't directed for him, he wanted to give his thanks too, to Deimos, for thinking of her safety, for wanting to help her fortify herself, to strengthen herself even further than the strength he already knew she held.

"Everything about her drew me to her," he took a breath, a sip of his wine, a bite of his food. "Her kindness, her humour, her strength, her tenacity, her honesty," once he started, he couldn't seem to stop, thinking of each thing so easily. After Kia had settled back down, he lifted a hand to gently cup her cheek for a moment, open with his affection, unable to restrain his need to be near her, to show the way his heart feels about her. "I only hope to prove myself worthy of her, of you all, time and again." A small shrug, as he returned his hand to its fork, poking at another piece of meat as he heard Amalia's question next.

"I come from a world where there were no gods," he began. "I struggled, and still do sometimes, to accept that there are forces greater than anything I've ever known at work here." He spoke with care, hoping to convey that he had learned much about the gods of this world, but that he knew he still had plenty more to learn. "I think they are a force to be respected," he said seriously, remembering Deimos' advice on the gods as well. Have patience, expect nothing. "You're known as the Shield of Safrin?" he dared to pose a question in return, to enquire, to show interest in the topic that her very namesake embraced. "The herald of Vi - the God of Life?" He wanted to confirm that what he had learned so far was truth, and maybe prove a little bit that he had taken the time to learn what he could about those beings which were so ingrained in the very fabric that made up Caido.

CHULANE

if you don't terrify people a little then what's the point

Before he thought to sit back down, there was Kiada’s reaction, trial of the helmet, and acknowledgments – tight hugs wrapped around his middle, torso, and ribs, a snort extended through lungs, a smile piercing along his lips, when he returned the favor. “You are welcome.” He relinquished his hold, to permit her to return back to her seat with new helmet in tow, his seal of protection, defense, and safeguarding secure for the interim. The beast followed through on the same, settling into more food, playfully wrapping one calf around the edge of Amalia’s chair and attempting to bring her closer for sheer mischief – and then listening to the answers to their inquiries.

He contentedly munched while Chulane went on his monologue of the Harpy, facial expression held entirely indifferent and impassive, giving nothing away of his thoughts on the subject. The Sword would be capable of agreeing with the man: he was all too aware of Kiada’s compassion, stubbornness, audacity, and fortitude, the might engrained since she was a child. He might’ve quirked a brow at the overt display of affection (somewhere a disgusted shudder was repressed), but then shrugged, continuing in his amplified nonchalance as the Shield questioned about the gods.

Amalia could settle those responses far better than he, so he swallowed down wine and then pierced his eyes towards the Harpy, fork empty and pointing at her. “What drew you to him?”

DEIMOS

I belong to you the way the moon belongs to the stars

He speaks prettily and carefully, Amalia thinks, but with what feels like honesty, earnest in his affection for the Harpy. And how can she help but like him for that, the kindness he showed her - a stranger - aside. Reaching for Deimos' hand beneath the table, she gives it a little squeeze, approval there if not on her face. She has more questions, more curiosity now that he has opened the door, but so far she is satisfied.

Even more so when he replies about the gods, though the way he turns it back on her sets he ever so slightly on edge. Raising an eyebrow and coloring slightly, Amalia glances away. "So I've been told," she replies somewhat dryly, rolling her eyes playfully in Kiada's direction. She is more and less than that, but it's okay. It is a title she is proud to bear, even if she doesn't always feel she has earned it.

As Deimos turns the questions back to Kiada, Amalia leans in toward Chulane. "What about you? What questions do you have for us?"

the stars in your eyes will bring me back
and once again, i will kiss the sky

Amalia

if through some miracle, you are granted the chance to see him again

whether in this life or the next

Elated and full of happiness at the gift Deimos had brought, she almost half doesn’t pay attention to what everyone else around her says. At least, not until Chulane begins to speak of her, and her cheeks flare again – unable to take the compliments, unable to realize that she might have and harbor all those things he seeks. Her head tilts into his hand briefly while it’s there, offering him a small smile, before she focuses on her plate again – letting them speak, figure out what they want to know about each other. She remains silent, nibbling at her plate while they speak, not until she’s addressed by Deimos’ question.

“He’s kind and thoughtful, considerate.” She begins, setting the fork down to focus on Chulane with a soft smile before her attention shifts to Deimos. “Wasn’t… Afraid when I told him of the worlds I’d been to, the things that happened, and the choices I made.” Which really, was all Kiada could ask for at the end of the day.

There’s more to say, but put on the spot has her floundering, but she notes the way Amalia questions Chulane in terms of what kind of questions he has for them and she leans over a small amount, brushing her shoulder against Chulane’s softly – offering any support needed if he had questions to ask.

you are, and always shall be, his

KIADA

when all the pretty birds have flown, take a chance on me

He couldn't get a read on what they thought, on how they judged him. Only silence, raised 'brows, neutral smiles and judgements kept to themselves. It was all the more anxiety-stirring, but he had an anchor through it all - Kia, the whole reason he was here, the reason he felt he could bear it, could withstand whatever judgement they cast. He had her, and while that was true, he thinks he could withstand their judgement, good or bad.

-- (It's a lie, he knows he would crumble under a negative judgement from people who meant so much to Kia, and therefore, meant so much to him.) --

As usual, his expectations were thrown, as he assumed more questions would come his way, and they didn't. He would learn to expect the unexpected in this world soon, but he was still so fresh, so naïve, still seeing the world as a magical, wondrous place, still blind to its darker and more dangerous tidings. The perspective was thrown to Kia now, to hear what her thoughts were on him, why she was drawn to him - it was something he had been wanting to know as well, though he would never ask for fear of having her realise that he was unworthy after all, for fear that he would be proven insufficient, that she would leave him.

A soft, small smile is on his face as he meets her gaze, a hint of a blush colouring his cheeks as she speaks of him. It made his heart sing, made him feel more secure, even if he felt quite vulnerable and exposed before them.

Amalia poses another question to him then, and he appreciates it - he felt like he had done a lot of the talking tonight, and here she was, opening the door to him to ask questions in return. But what to ask? What to know, to seek, to investigate? Did he ask them to cast their judgement on him, here and now? Or did he hope that their silent acceptance of his presence counted as acceptance and welcome enough?

Was he reading them correctly? Was their silence indeed acceptance, or was it just a way of them being polite, waiting until after the dinner to reject him, to eject him from their and Kia's life?

"I am not usually shy in asking questions, and ask them as they come to me," he sought to assure, to promise that as questions arose in the future, he would seek them out, ask them - evidently hedging his bets that he was being welcomed to linger onwards into the future in all of their lives. "How about… How did you two come to be together?" Was it a chance meeting, like he and Kia? A random act of a bag of vegetables (was it fate?) initiating that first contact? Was it destined to be? Or was there even more to their story, disagreements, misunderstandings, drama, romance, adventure?

CHULANE

if you don't terrify people a little then what's the point

All the while, save for the intertwining of the Shield and Sword’s fingers, the monolith rendered no emotion across his features. Kept them both on their toes now, stare subtly shifting towards Kiada as she answered his inquiry. The undertone of acceptance had always been a massive piece for anyone and everyone, especially with intertwined pasts and lines of mistakes. That Chulane hadn’t been affected by the wake of the Harpy’s experiences said enough about his character. He reflected the notes of approval towards Amalia; a pervading of the senses, and perhaps so in the recollection of a slight smile to the other couple, a nearly imperceptible nod of his head.

Besides, if Chulane ever hurt her, vengeance would be swift in return (likely from everyone else gathered at this sanction).

The other man seemed to take the mantle of asking inquiries too; though Deimos hadn’t quite expected this one. The edges of his mouth curled and contorted into the slightest of smirks, glancing at Amalia from the corner of his eye. “Many, many meetings.” He wrinkled his nose in apt fondness, recalling moments before their coming together. “I believe there was brooding on my part, and acceptance on hers. Some libraries, songs, flour fights, and dances in between.” A succinct blend, when it couldn’t be accurately summarized. Thereafter had been all the more – scores upon scores of adventures, triumphs, tribulations, and everything else lodged in the midst. The Shield would likely tell it far better than he; she’d known how he’d fallen for her – and he’d gladly repeat it in Attuned, silent measures.

DEIMOS

if through some miracle, you are granted the chance to see him again

whether in this life or the next

She listens to Chulane’s question back at Amalia, back to Deimos – her iceberg gaze flickering toward Deimos at the mention of flour fights, a dark brow raising slightly as a smirk curls along her lips. She leans toward Chuy, then, nudging him with an elbow. “He finally asked her to date a few Fiat Lux’s ago, wearing flower crowns and being a general pain in the ass.” She snorts, before she shakes her head and moves to pick up her drink again.

And once all the conversation is done, she’s feeling a bit lighter – feeling a thankfulness crossing over herself as well as relief. If they hadn’t accepted Chulane, the conversation wouldn’t have lasted. And Kiada’s eternally thankful for that as she lifts her glass for a small thanks. “I’m glad you both came.” She says quietly, before taking a sip and letting the evening take them away with easier conversation, finishing of meals, and desserts.

And then at the end, the departure, leaving Kiada and Chulane alone in her home with a breath of relief and perhaps a small amount of added celebration.

- FIN <3

you are, and always shall be, his

KIADA