[se] with a sense of poise and rationality

I write sins, not tragedies

There were few Attuned who were strong enough speak to mythical creatures and even if the task were apolitical, Wessex would not have felt safe accepting an offer like that. She couldn’t trust them, didn’t know if anything said or done would be held against her in the future, grudges hoarded for eventual retaliation. Noah is different.

After he offers, Wessex looks at him with a measured, curious gaze, trying to read the stoic, weathered face and what lies beneath it. The truth is that she knows very little about him, but her gut says they’re similar enough to find a common ground. After a moment, she offers an accepting smile and nods. “I’ve no quarrels with Frey. Hell, I'd go to them myself if I thought they'd be open to helping. Henry has offered to do the same, so perhaps the two of you can go together. And like I told him, the resources of the Grounds are at your disposal if Frey agrees to help.”

That being said, she drops down into the house through the hole they’ve made on the roof and begin collecting the items laid out. “And how is Halo doing? How are you?”

WESSEX

the devil you know is better than the ghost you don't

Noah's brows knit together some as Wessex spoke of Frey. It was interesting to him that the woman had no ill will with the Herald -- he assumed that, in the nature of being Ascended alone, she would have. She moved on to mentioning Henry, and Noah nodded. "I would be glad to have him with me, if he would like." It was a statement of courtesy, but the hunter did not know that yet. His own desire to seek and converse with Frey overshadowed his desire to invite Henry into the experience of helping the Sparkbird.

He watched as Wessex dropped down into the building's ruins. Looking down at the drop, the hunter decided he would be more graceful to take on his feline skin once more. Shifting down, Noah trotted along the beam of the house before scaling his way down into the rubble, shifting back up to his normal being before carrying on the conversation. "We did well over Deepfrost. We worked as a community last year to have Frey put some protection over the Citadel, so our citizens experienced the warmest Deepfrost of their lives." He smiled, both with pride and humor, a slight wink given to Wessex. She had visited Halo before, numerous times, and he knew she knew that warmest still meant twice as cold as the Hollowed Grounds would ever experience.

On a more personal note, though, the woman asked how he was doing. The hunter hesitated some, taking the break to think. How was he doing? Well, not great, if an outsider's perspective inspected his life over the last months. "Life is different now that it ever has been before. I am...adjusting." And he left it at that, though he did not block off any further questioning from the Queen.

so I sit and the scan the frequencies, watch the falling snow

Noah Olson

I write sins, not tragedies

The sense of community that Halo has is something that Wessex has always envied; while she’s well beyond wanting to be someone else, she can’t help but wonder what it would be like to not always have to live life on the edge. To work well with others who want the same things she does - to better the community and keep it safe.

Maybe that’s why she felt a bit of kinship with the Halovians - Noah, Weaver (may she rest in peace), Elide. They were practical, smart, and skilled. Intense in ways that Torchers and Grounders weren’t - maybe it was the cold and the necessity of learning how to feel things when the outside made you numb.

“That’s great,” she offers with a smile, picking up a basket and putting all the utensils on the table into it - plates, silverware, glasses - anything that could go into the basket, really. “Maybe we’ll both have easier LongNights from here on out.” And honestly, she’s expecting to continue in this idle, surface-level talk until the task is done, but Noah utters something that makes her burst into a full-belled, almost barking laugh.

“Gods, that’s the understatement of the century.” Turning towards him she marvels aloud, “If you’d had told me ten years ago that our world would be like this, I’d have asked where you found the mushrooms and if I could have some.”

WESSEX

the devil you know is better than the ghost you don't

The hunter gave a nod in regard to how their lands would experience better Longnights than they had in the past. While the Halovians had not dealt with the monsters of the Hollowed Grounds, they had dealt with extreme cold, and the small invasions of hungry Whitebrimers. The hunter helped Wessex clean up around the empty, cracked house, until her laughter made him pause and look up at her.

His own grin broke across his face and he laughed, too. "Even three years ago I would have laughed that person right out of the bar." Because in Halo, that's where crazy news was spread. While Noah hadn't meant by what he said that he was adjusting to the larger world changes about them, he let his mind go there as Wessex did. He wasn't close enough to reveal to the demigoddess that he was adjusting to life with a broken heart and an empty house once more.

"What was this place, before?" He asked, going back to gathering splintered and shatter wood.

so I sit and the scan the frequencies, watch the falling snow

Noah Olson

I write sins, not tragedies

Three years ago... sighing a little wistfully, Wessex nods. “Four years ago for me. I could still get drunk. Hadn’t Ascended. No Outlanders to be seen.” Her anti-Outlander sentiments have died down over the years, even though she can’t help but feel some lingering resentment towards the ones who came and are now potentially her biggest enemies. “Seems both entirely too long and too short a time.”

Yet without them, they’d probably still be barrier-bound, and that dichotomy has always been at odds with Wessex. She supposes she has a different sort of relationship to Outlanders than Noah does. One day she might even have to see him on the other side…

Pushing that thought from her head, Wessex opens the door to the house and sets her basket outside. “It was a decoy for the Monsters, to burn ‘em in.” she begins, shaking her head already. “We planned and planned and tried to prepare for it but in the end none of it mattered unless we had weapons or siphoned abilities. The Voice gave us some upgrades. Those really saved our asses.” And she is very thankful for that, but it feels too much like a giant metaphor still; no matter how much they plan and prepare and try to take life into their own hands, too much of it will be in the hands of the Gods.

"Now it'll be repurposed. We have some rebuilding to do."

WESSEX

the devil you know is better than the ghost you don't

The world was so different. Everything was changing -- it was not just the Grounds, nor Halo. It was bigger than each of the territories. It was obvious, with the ability for each of them to explore deeper into the world of Caido than ever before. Noah knew that something was looming, a darkening over their horizons, and it made him uneasy. But his right answers were to do the next right thing, and right now that was helping Wessex clean up this makeshift destruction of a house.

The hunter took in a deep breath, as Wessex moved on and explained what the house had been. Taking a look around, Noah continued to help pick it up. Splintered fractures of wood covered the ground and he gathered it by the armful, taking it to one end and placing it all in a pile. "Do you have plans for what it will be next?" Noah asked, genuinely curious about it.

What he really wanted to know was what her next plans were for the Grounds and its people, but he wasn't sure how to ask that.

so I sit and the scan the frequencies, watch the falling snow

Noah Olson

I write sins, not tragedies

Chairs in hand, placed outside as if they were merely doing Flowerbirth cleaning, Wessex returns to the simple shell to another question. “This?” she asks, looking around. “No idea. Donate the furniture, I expect. Use the wood for someone’s house. I’d love to start building in stone so we can’t be burned out again, but that takes a little more work.” Luckily for them, they have an abundance of stone here in the Ruins. And there are vague plans, but without anything concrete to offer, it’s best to just keep that to herself, she thinks.

{sat} “Hey, have you heard from Loren at all? I went to see him before LongNight, but couldn’t find him.” Managing to look only slightly concerned about the disappearance, he’s one of a few that might keep Halo solidly neutrals, so it’s worth keeping tabs on the Firebrand, even if that tab is MIA.

WESSEX

the devil you know is better than the ghost you don't

Noah pushed furniture out of the way, dust and debris falling to the hard floor. He gave a simple grunt of acknowledgement to his question of the building. "If the Sparkbird comes back, buildings of stone would better protect your people." He noted, continuing to adjust furniture and stack broken splinters of boards in a pile.

He did not expect Wessex to ask about Loren, but in his mind it did make sense. He paused and looked up at the demigoddess as she entered the room once more. "Uh, no." Sweat formed on his forehead and he moved his arm up to wipe it from his brow. "I haven't seen Loren since the Festival of Lights." He assumed he had gone away to another land, perhaps Torchline. "I know he hasn't been the same since Weaver died, and after Ludo brought her soul to me--" and not him "--I thought he needed to leave the place she once was."

so I sit and the scan the frequencies, watch the falling snow

Noah Olson

I write sins, not tragedies

Nodding, Wessex agrees, though not just for the reason he’s identified. “Sparkbird. Stormbreak’s militia and their dragons. Anyone with fire magic and a vendetta.” She exhales in a sigh, then shrugs, not particularly wanting to go there right now. This task has ended up being a nice distraction and easy conversation - if they have to talk about what’s on everyone’s minds, then so be it, but some part of her would rather not. As uninspiring as she finds small talk, it might be better than war-talk.

“Oh,” Wessex says with a little brow raise. “I didn’t realize he and Weaver were close…” There’s a drop in her tone when she speaks about the fierce Halovian, someone she’d been getting close to, a woman she admired. What happened to her was a damn shame and a loss for Halo.

But if Loren was close to her, she can see how everything on top of that loss might make him seek solitude. “I suppose it had been a rough year for him, then.”

WESSEX

the devil you know is better than the ghost you don't

The hunter was aware enough of social cues to know when someone did not want to breech a certain subject. It seemed as though Wessex was standing at the threshold of that, and Noah was more than willing to close the door. He kicked at some boards to straighten the pile, adjusting it so that it would not tumble down. He took what she said, though, and committed it to memory. The Stormbreak militia and their dragons, that was.

Noah, at first, had been rather standoffish towards the Firebrand. While he had come to accept him, in time, it was true that Loren was not so close to his heart. He appreciated his gifts and his willingness to help Halo, but he was not the one Noah would divulge secrets to or find solace with. That, ultimately, was the reason the hunter did not take time to seek out the once-Grand Healer like he did spend time looking for Korbin, or Delphine. "Lovers, I suspect...though I can't know for sure." He finally said, shrugging some. "It's never easy losing someone so close to your heart." Obviously, the Hale woman had been close to his, or else she would not have come to him through Ludo.

so I sit and the scan the frequencies, watch the falling snow

Noah Olson

I write sins, not tragedies

“Really?” she asks with more than a tinge of incredulousness. Not one to make a habit of speaking ill of the dead and/or missing, in the brief pause between the reveal and her reaction, Wessex cannot make herself believe that Weaver and Loren were intimately involved.

But there’s no reason for Noah to lie and no one to cross-check that hypothesis with, so Wessex can only pause again and try to imagine some world where the fiery Natural and the… useful but also hypocritical and self-pitying Outlander found their way into each other’s beds. Habitually. Eventually she shakes her head and continues clearing the last of the easily moveable items out of the house. Looking around, it seems like they’ve done a fair amount of work for the day - the roof, the interior - and while Wessex could continue working throughout the day, there were undoubtedly other issues to attend to.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, hands on hips. “We’ve done a lot and I don’t want to keep you - but there is more to be finish, I just don’t know if it needs to be finished today..” Obviously.

WESSEX

the devil you know is better than the ghost you don't

Weaver, like Noah, had not been as averse to the outlanders as the rest of Halo. The fact that the woman had chosen one to share a bed with was not out of the realm of possibility in his mind -- after all, he had done so as well -- but it seemed that Wessex's reaction was from the viewpoint of Loren. The hunter suspected that the queen knew him well.

Finishing what he had started, Noah turned to look at Wessex, undistracted. "I think I'd like to get to the portal before the sun sets and it is too cold on the walk back to the Citadel." He nodded, looking around briefly. "It was nice to see you today, Wessex." He had not expected to have the conversation they had had, nor help her with the task he had. Truly, he had just stumbled upon her on his way back to the portal to Halo. "The next time you're in Halo, I'll expect a drink." He smiled, the brightness that most knew of him returning to his face as the corners of his eyes wrinkled. He lifted a hand before slipped out of the building, collecting his turkey and bag and heading in the direction of the portal.

FINISHED

so I sit and the scan the frequencies, watch the falling snow

Noah Olson