like salt in the sea
For Bastien
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
#15
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
He permitted himself a moment to reflect on other worlds, not ones he’d traced or wounded, but the spiraling wakes of Outlanders alike, sharpened and honed in facets different or alike. Earth, Italy, Venice, foreign words from foreign tongues, beautiful, but not without issues. “What was it like?” Maybe it’d be nice to hear about a beautiful place, instead of a realm rankled and pummeled with trials and tribulations every few days. Deimos had described enough of the Aurora Basin to those not from Helovia a number of times – and the notions, the semblances, kept him deterred, distracted, from the other painful instances contending with the rest of his mind. An occupation of his machinations, rather than where they could seethe, simmer, or tear, hands maneuvering along the clay, confirming and conforming the structure so it could grow, so it could bloom, so it could blossom.

Unaware the Sword had dodged a bullet due to his own reticence, he merely listened to the Ascended as he worked, grateful the subject could fade out. The semblance of wanting to join her, to think that she awaited after everything was over, made him instinctively turn his head, stare upon Bastien for another moment, and then steel his breath.

Because there’d been a very reckless number of days where, sick, delirious, and sunken into the grief, he would’ve done just that. Sped it all along, plunged, unrelenting, straight into denizens of nothingness.

He looked away, and pressed back into the clay, pondering if there were better ways to frame the statement slipping through his mind. “It gets very tiring, watching everyone go before you.” Overbearing, daunting, anguishing. “But, I suppose, knowing they are on the other side is comforting in a way.” That they were without pain, in some semblance of contentment, peace, serenity, and tranquility, no longer burdened with whatever terrible wake or tragedy happened in Caido. “We did not have those sanctities in Helovia.” He’d know – the perished pieces of his bones, spirit, and soul had been honed, resurrected, and thrown right back out.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
Bastien De Rosieres
the Dionysian
Ambassador for the Hollowed Grounds / Artist

Age: 41 | Height: 6' 2" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 22 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 10 - Int:
PITTORE - Mythical - Gremlin (Disappearance)
Played by: lancydulac Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,399 | Total: 8,707
MP: 0
#16
BASTIEN
i am the remedy to your heart,
Deimos asked for more about Venice and so Bastien let his memories and words flow, letting go of restrictions based around embarrassment or going too far (not that he had many). "Some called it the Floating City; in many parts of town instead of streets there are canals, and one travels via Gondola, a kind of boat." A soft smile on his face then; while he was content enough in Caido, there was little Bastien wouldn't give to be gliding down a softly lit canal at the moment. "Tall houses in pale brick make up a lot of the buildings, but at the central plaza there are more elaborate things, such as the Doge's palace. I do not care for the Doge, who...well, to simplify things let's say he was the leader there, but he does have a marvellous house. Gold ceilings with painted panels." He'd shown it to Rexanna only recently in his dream and it felt as if he had actually recently visited; Bastien could recall each painted scene, each glint of gold.

Bastien leaned back to sit with his legs crossed on the floor as he focused on pressing delicate pieces of clay together to make a flower, building up layers of thin petals and pinching the ends into neat points with a finger and thumb. "Not everyone. I know it can be easy to dwell on those that are gone, but do not lose sight of those you still have. Those you are yet to meet. With all the Outlanders and the exploration of Caido still incomplete, there may be an entire life's worth of friends out there for you yet." He said encouragingly, looking up briefly to pat Deimos on the shoulder.

"We did not have a confirmed afterlife in Venice, either. Some would tell you we did, but when asked for proof, they would always seem to need to leave." Snorting, he shook his head. "I do like the direct nature of this world. Proof of the Gods is undeniable and easy to come across."
I am the carbon collected.
I am the printed upon your stars.
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
#17
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
Like any true artist, Bastien’s descriptions allotted for a clear picture, a tapestry, a canvas, of worlds from before. Deimos wouldn’t have been able to contort or imagine a city built upon water, with the streets resembling canals, with boats drifting in and out; despite an upbringing beside the sea, and wars upon clifftops. They’d never had anything elaborate, save for manifestations likely created by gods, and he snorted at the notion of such decadence of a Doge and their gold ceilings, their painted panels – if anything had ever been so ornate or embellished in the Basin, the leadership would’ve been tossed off the mountain. But he could see the Ascended as part of that earth, and he nodded, smirking lightly, attention back upon the clay. “Sounds like something Rexanna would have enjoyed.” If they’d been capable of escaping this realm, heading back to their old ones. The monolith could imagine the Thief, draped in her finery, exuding through the wonders of it all - as she'd done within the Basin, as she'd done within Caido.

And while he molded supports, and tended to the scaffolding structures, he began to lacquer little details, a dagger pressed in outline, a sun dipped in angles. Cranium bowed, features returning to reticence while he worked and concentrated, aptly attempting to apply his abilities without magic, he listened. Bastien had pinpointed him well, because Deimos had long since lived in the past, in things he missed, in things he lost, because they were so monumental, looming, and overwhelming, because he’d wanted to alter, change, and prevent the anguish, the strife, and was eternally too late. He dwelled there, in the annals of grief so readily, so easily, that sometimes the present was barely spared a glance. “An important reminder. Thank you.” Within moments like these, where he could honor Rexanna, where he could peel over the layers, where he could remember better moments, had to become the stark, beautiful binding things, instead of the way she’d been torn away from them. “I will try to do better.” Try to pick his head up, instead of leaving it down. Try to instill what they’d taught him, instead of drowning in the wake of their absence. Try to forge onward, and not meet up with them again so soon.

Another breath billowed and coiled out of him, perfectly controlled once more, as discourse over gods continued. “Ours were similar to here, though not as readily available. Often they would come and go as they pleased, or favored certain individuals.” He, of course, hadn’t been amongst the latter. “Some of us simply had faith in ourselves.” Knew their capabilities, knew what they do – to persecute, to persevere.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
Bastien De Rosieres
the Dionysian
Ambassador for the Hollowed Grounds / Artist

Age: 41 | Height: 6' 2" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 22 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 10 - Int:
PITTORE - Mythical - Gremlin (Disappearance)
Played by: lancydulac Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,399 | Total: 8,707
MP: 0
#18
BASTIEN
i am the remedy to your heart,
"Yes...sometimes it feels like I may wake up in Venice again, but I couldn't do it now without her there by my side too. It's strange, she was never a part of that life, but..." Bastien shrugged, his brows furrowing as he tried to work out why it was his imagination loved to place Rexanna within his past. "I suppose I feel like I still have some part of her here. There I would have nothing at all, and it would be too far." He had never loved in Venice as he had in Caido, had never given as much of his heart; he doubted he'd have enough left to start over in Italy again.

Looking over to see Deimos adding in his own details, he smiled; the artist in him was ever so slightly offended at the changes to his plans, but he could not deny Deimos the chance to give his own touch to the memorial; Rexanna would want them both, he was sure. "Good, but do be gentle with yourself. I feel you are a man who is very harsh to his own soul." Oh, Deimos was stoic and quiet, but Bastien knew those types often struggled more than anyone else with voices in their minds.

Halfway around the piece now with his decoration he got up to get more water and to step around Deimos, looking over his shoulder as he spoke his reply. "At the end, the only one you can really depend on, I suppose. I assume you were one of the latter?"
I am the carbon collected.
I am the printed upon your stars.
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
#19
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
They couldn’t go back – and perhaps that had been the harshest lesson of all. For those hours in her company, there weren’t to be any future ones, not until something else had dealt them a similar hand. Memories, figments, and fractions of worlds melding, molding together might’ve been considered odd anywhere else; but not here, not when they’d been torn away from cherished homes, not when the ones beloved had instilled and wrapped themselves in hearts and souls. Rexanna had the capability of a chameleon – weaving herself in and out of roles, easily polishing her character, her entity, into any situation. It was what had made her so insightful, so duplicitous, so well-suited to her role in the Basin, and to anything else in her multiple lives. “She was cunning and adaptable. She could have made a home anywhere.” In Venice, in Helovia, in Caido, in her own worlds. “But I am certain her preferred one was with you.” Because she’d been content and permitted to be herself – no gilded cages, no arranged shackles, no tethers and lines to other ridiculous figures. “Perhaps she is not truly gone, anyway. Just waiting.” His eyes fell down to the floor and back again, a breath flickering through his chest.

Then he continued, not adding in any additional details (perhaps he’d sneak a few more in later), parsing through the clay, ensuring the structure would hold firm, that the strength he mustered and mettled could conform to the memorial, to pieces and fractions of what she was. The Sword didn’t expect Bastien’s comment to segment so rapidly, so precisely; fracturing right down to the edges of his spine, to the way he demanded everything of himself, to the way he bombarded and bruised and bludgeoned his entity with little regard. His nose wrinkled slightly, like that of a pouting youth, while his sights were on the elements, on the fixtures. “I have spent lifetimes ensuring I am not so easily read.” He fixed Bastien with an arched brow, before sighing, tilting his head a fraction to survey his work. “I will try that too.” A lot of upcoming attempts and maneuvers, apparently, room for growth and convictions, in altering, in re-sculpting the way he’d managed his life.

Bastien stepped aside, and the General maneuvered out of his range, rendering accord and efforts back into the hastening of the design. Pinpointed again for around the third or fourth time, the Sword shrugged, muffling a snort. “Yes. There were no gods on battlefields.” No one there but themselves, opponents, enemies, conflicts, skirmishes, damnation, and death.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
Bastien De Rosieres
the Dionysian
Ambassador for the Hollowed Grounds / Artist

Age: 41 | Height: 6' 2" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 22 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 10 - Int:
PITTORE - Mythical - Gremlin (Disappearance)
Played by: lancydulac Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,399 | Total: 8,707
MP: 0
#20
BASTIEN
i am the remedy to your heart,
Deimos' words brought a smile to his face at the same time they brought the prickling of tears to the back of his eyes, and Bastien tried his best to fight them back, sure that the General was not the sort of man to be comfortable with crying. "Thank you. All I ever wanted to be was somewhere safe and loving for her." He continued that goal now, for Azrael, for his guild, for the Grounds, but there would always be a hole next to him now where his most special love would have gone.

"And I have spent most of my lifetime reading people." Bastien countered, the sad smile changing into a more amused smirk. "When you perform on the streets, it is vital to know whether the person you pull from the crowd will be willing to play along or not. Similarly, later, when I had to debate with those dogs that called themselves Noble, it was good to know their hands...everyone can be read, if you know what to look for." It was one of his skills, in the same way fighting or showing endurance was one of Deimos'.

No Gods on battlefields was quite poignant, really, something Bastien thought he might include in something later. "And yet here, there very much are, hm?" That observation passed, he worked on the other side of the piece, copying what he had done before but mirrored, a reverse of the flowers and spirals he had worked on before.
I am the carbon collected.
I am the printed upon your stars.
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
#21
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
Had he seen or noticed the figment of tears, the Sword wouldn’t judge or begrudge the overflow of emotions; gods knew how many times he’d completely fallen apart in the past year. Instead of paying heed to the sentiments though, the beast simply continued on his ministrations, nodding, circumventing around the semblances of Rexanna, and the love she’d had right to the very end. “Then I would say you were successful.” A slight smile remained, but went nowhere other than in the ethers and vestiges, ducking his head down to glance at the floor, before breathing in his massive inhale, to coax forth more efforts, to render himself not useless and drained.

He arched a slight brow at the inclinations of reading others – his scrutiny and examinations had always come across as outlining and analyzing weaknesses, strengths, where and when and how people fell into reaches and regions. The monolith had learned never to underestimate in anyone’s abilities or capabilities; been caught in the throngs of duplicity and deceit before. But not in the same mannerisms as Bastien, or likely for the same reasons. “Understandable.” Another nod granted, given, and extended, uncertain how far he’d fallen in the aspects of fortresses and columns, or if the world could simply read it in him now, how tarnished and hurt and scalded he’d become. It hastened along his edges, and he didn’t like it.

The Sword’s hands worked the clay as the last statement marched through, and he snorted, shook his cranium, either bemused or frustrated, uncertain where to segment all the ruminations. It wouldn’t take him long to contort the memories of any gods’ involvement in latest debacles. “They are.” Fingers traced over the structure, aligning motions and nuances, continuing to ensure stability. “We fought a leviathan in the Climb. But Tanau seemed to find a way to stop it.”
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
Bastien De Rosieres
the Dionysian
Ambassador for the Hollowed Grounds / Artist

Age: 41 | Height: 6' 2" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 22 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 10 - Int:
PITTORE - Mythical - Gremlin (Disappearance)
Played by: lancydulac Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,399 | Total: 8,707
MP: 0
#22
BASTIEN
i am the remedy to your heart,
It was always nice to hear he had done by well by his wife, but especially from Deimos, who was not only someone that had been close to her but not someone known for his compliments or emotional outpour. "Thank you." Bastien said softly, quietly, hoping that wherever she was, Rexanna thought so too.

Finishing the last delicate rose and sitting back to look over the piece and make sure it was satisfactory for his part, he looked over with the appropriate amount of surprise for someone announcing they had seen a leviathan. "Really. And do you think without Tanau you would have returned alive? Was the God's help essential to your success?"
I am the carbon collected.
I am the printed upon your stars.
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
#23
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
With the thank you, the monolith nodded, the edges of his smile disappearing under the strain of so many other nuances collecting, absorbing, in his mind. For a moment, he let it all disperse into silence, focused on the task at hand, at remembering, at memorializing, a woman who’d withstood hardship after hardship, strain after strain, and still managed to live life the way she’d orchestrated, commanded, and demanded – who found her light and didn’t let it dim until it was simply too late. The clay continued to shape beneath his hands and ministrations, concentrating taking over, a pulse and a breath, a beat within an inhale, exhale, so he didn’t forget his own life lessons immersed in the artistic sanctuary. Embedded, immersed, just like the materials across his calloused palms and sculpted along fingers too used to swords and daggers; growing, utilizing, reaching for ways that he could heal, remember exactly what he’d always been.

With his absorption in the task, he failed to notice Bastien’s surprise over his other proclamation, save for the wavering of decibels in his voice. Maybe it said too much of Deimos’ life experiences here to not be much bothered by the notion of facing these measure of creatures over and over and over again – a ritualistic pattern of something occurring, involving a dangerous, mythical beast, and having to find ways to conquer. “It was difficult to hit, and could deal a lot of damage.” He had new scars to prove it, where the scales had embedded themselves along his flesh, before he’d ripped them out, before Zuriel had stitched his side back together. A shrug lifted his shoulders, moderate contemplation searing there. “Perhaps, but maybe destroying it had not been the goal.” But what the purpose, motive, and reasoning was other than that, he wasn’t certain.
master of nothing place;
of recoil and grace
Bastien De Rosieres
the Dionysian
Ambassador for the Hollowed Grounds / Artist

Age: 41 | Height: 6' 2" | Race: Ascended | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 5 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 22 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 10 - Int:
PITTORE - Mythical - Gremlin (Disappearance)
Played by: lancydulac Offline
Change author:
Posts: 1,399 | Total: 8,707
MP: 0
#24
BASTIEN
i am the remedy to your heart,
There was a part of Bastien that found Deimos fascinating purely because of his relative lack of reaction to something like a leviathan; there was something undeniably admirable and well, cool, about it. Like he was a heroic warrior from a story, someone who would not crack under any pressure, who could be made into figurines for children to play with hundreds of years in the future...

Of course, Deimos was a human, and losing sight of that would be unfair, but there were moments Bastien felt he was in the presence of a mythological figure. One that was willing to put aside his weapons to work on a memorial, hands used to war working on soft and delicate shapes: soon enough, the majority of the work is done, the rest of it only available after the clay had dried and been varnished, something Bastien was willing to do on his own; after all, the important part was the initial creation.

"I believe we can stop there. Isn't it beautiful? Truly a fitting memorial for the women of women and Queen of Queens." Hand clasped over his heart as he looked it over, Bastien put the other on Deimos' shoulder, fixing him with a genuine smile. "Thank you, my friend. It is only so beautiful in part due to your love for her."

{FIN}
I am the carbon collected.
I am the printed upon your stars.


Forum Jump:


Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)


RPG-D