Mine To Find [Seasonal Event]
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
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Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#1

Deimos the Reaper
You can't take back the cards you've dealt on this
long and lonely road to hell
the throne must be such a sad and lonely place

The oncoming legions of rumors, tales, and myths composed of LongNight drove the Reaper out into the fields, not intending to be a fool out amidst the midnight oils, desperate and yearning for the slimmest bit of food. The warrior had always been about preparation, either across war-torn arenas or the simplest aspects of life, because there’d been a time when he’d blundered, stumbled, and fumbled his way out, and it dared not repeat the anguishing moments.

His tools were simple; his own enchantments, capable of withering away life at his command (though slow, not as swift or keen as a cutlass straight through the heart), Alistair’s gifted hunting knife (either to be thrown or valued in close-combat, if he could sneak, if he could be a furtive piece of backdrop until the desired moment of death), and a bow he’d managed to tie together from some branches, rope, and fortitude. It wasn’t his desired realm of skill; he’d never been quite as gifted in archery as he’d been in swordplay, slashing, ripping, and tearing but it would suit his purpose of either slowing down his prey or ensuring a swift demise.

The warrior lingered along the threshold in the early pits of morning light, when the deer usually reared their heads from their nests, extended their long limbs, and journeyed out into glades, into havens, into sanctuaries, hoping to score whatever remained beneath deep pockets of snow. Despite his mass and bulk, Deimos had managed to maneuver in stealthy refrain, quiet, unassuming, a hushed contortion of savage predator and muted, reticent carnivore, towards tracks laden in the rime. It could’ve been from the evening before, and he was hoping if he followed their winding pathways, or if he meticulously combed the surrounding earth, he’d be able to find the desired wares.

{Hunting thread for DeepFrost! Feel free to join! <3}


Photo and Table by Time
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary
Lily Balfour
Entertainer

Age: 34 | Height: 5'9'' | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: N/A - Strg: 16 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 14 - Int:
Played by: Astor Offline
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Posts: 440 | Total: 4,350
MP: 0
#2
lily
from what i’ve tasted of desire
i hold with those who favor fire
Welp. Lily can’t rely on the kindness of strangers forever; it’s odd, she has absolutely no problem taking from wealthy men who want to use for whatever reason, but she can’t bring herself to be greedy with these folk. Her brief observations tell her that no one here is ‘wealthy’ in the conventional sense, there is only those who have been here longer, were born here, and those who periodically get sucked in and survive or perish. She falls into the last category, and while their kindness is much appreciated, she knows that sooner or later this little lady will have to work up some calluses.

She looks mournfully at her delicate, white hands - so slim and elegant, perfect for quickly plucking strings or playing piano keys, and yet tight enough to coax coin from a man’s pants - and pockets. So long, gentle touches! Goodbye, soft skin! Here come the marks of a servant again, which draw forth a sudden welling of hot tears and then subsequent chastisement. Lily hastily wipes the tears away. It was foolish to cry over something essential like life and death. Best to just get on with it - either the living or the dying, it doesn’t matter which.

Lily throws on a coat that is much too big for her (the only one someone could find) over the fur breeches and shirt - all clothing designed for a man, but beggars can’t be choosers - and she sets off to - well, do something useful. Determined, actually. Hence the very early morning start. Turns out it’s just a tad too early to ask about the shops, so she wanders until she finds a lone figure at the edge of the field. Try as she might, and despite the wonderful freedom of pants, she isn’t anywhere near as stealthy as Deimos is. It wouldn’t be surprising if he could hear her coming before she’s within talking distance.  


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
#3

Deimos the Reaper
You can't take back the cards you've dealt on this
long and lonely road to hell
the throne must be such a sad and lonely place

Senses born from the battlefield honed him in on an incoming approach, though it was neither adversarial or threatening. His initial thoughts were to simply ignore it, press on, apathetic and indifferent, leave them behind with the rest of the morning as he descended into predatory refrains. The piercing slate of his gaze still eased over towards the stranger though, a figure he didn’t recognize from any recent gatherings, from any wandering through the streets. He would’ve noticed the flaming red hair, the awkward, ill-fitting stature, as if she didn’t fit in amongst the world; not a hunter, not a gatherer, and the natural state of curiosity caused him to stray, a few steps taken into the field, before ceasing any movements altogether.

Something about the moment irritated him, vexed him. He presumed she was out here to snag herself a meal, to prepare for the impending struggles of days without sun, as most cretins out at this hour. Was she intending to stalk, shoot, or snare while making that much noise? If it was enough for him to notice, then the animals were bound to, predisposed to alarm, to saving their skin, to running, fleeing, given the opportunity. Perhaps it was inexperience, and she was forced into a role she'd never played simply for survival. He sighed, watched his breath puff and curl, coil and shift, along the cool, chilling air. Time was of the essence – he couldn’t be dawdling out here. The beast made to move away when she grew closer, only proffering a shard of advice over his shoulder, between the bows and arrows, the might and the experience tucked away in the deep intonations, in the rumble and grumble of his voice; quiet, methodical, deliberately nuanced in a hushed diligence. “If you want a successful hunt, one must embody silence.” He gave her a pointed look, an arch of a brow, before following his own advice, slinking into the grass, as if he were not a massive fiend.


Photo and Table by Time
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary
Lily Balfour
Entertainer

Age: 34 | Height: 5'9'' | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: N/A - Strg: 16 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 14 - Int:
Played by: Astor Offline
Change author:
Posts: 440 | Total: 4,350
MP: 0
#4
lily
from what i’ve tasted of desire
i hold with those who favor fire
His rebuke stings, zips its way inside her in a way that most comments (and believe me, she’s gotten plenty) can’t. She flushes against the cold, and immediately stops, looking at her feet and then the field around her. Slowly tucking bits of clothing into belts and pants, she tries to minimize the amount of clothing that could flap around and make noise.

Ok. She’s learning. Must be quiet.

The next couple of steps towards Deimos are measured, slow, taking a toll on her legs in a way she’s never worked them before. She crouches down as best she can, holding her arms out for balance. This iscontrol, and stealth, and an entirely different environment than she’s used to. After a couple of steps, she realizes it’s nothing more than sneaking across creaky floorboards. Lily pointedly ignores the fact that the man seems annoyed with her, determined as she is to do something right.

Should she reach the hulking mass of a man, she will flatten down to the ground the way he does, without asking if she can join him. See, if you don’t ask permission, you don’t risk being denied. That’s a lesson she learned the harder way.

“What are you hunting?” she whispers to him, eyes scanning the snow-covered grass for movement before she even knows what their target is.

Yes. Their target. He's stuck with her for the time being.


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
#5

Deimos the Reaper
You can't take back the cards you've dealt on this
long and lonely road to hell
the throne must be such a sad and lonely place

He was still silent as she actually listened to his slight reprimand, deigning to tuck away flapping, loose clothing, but he gave her a single nod, indicating he’d noticed her alteration. The beast had no issue with learning, with taking in the noteworthy lessons, in corresponding to change and deliberation, and so continued on his mission, carefully neutral in his motions and notions. At the very least, she listened, which was beyond some of the other inhabitants of this world. If he was irritated or annoyed at her continued persistence, he said naught of the sort, obliging in his pathway and aspirations, but not looking back to see if she followed. His goals and methods would remain the same – as long as she didn’t interfere, then they wouldn’t have an issue.

The beast returned back to his modes of control, quiet, contorted in a bundle of muscle, sinew, and flesh, born in the ramparts of tenacity, ruin, and oblivion, eager to cast himself right back into the thick of fervency, rampage, and discord. His gaze, piercing and devastating in their treacherous reaches, kept to the horizon, to the drifting waves of greenery, to the morning light arching its way over fields. It flickered back and forth along the snow-laden trails too, some passerbys from days before, but some fresher, crisp and clean, notched by angles of toes instead of giant foot-treads. Deimos caught the woman’s whisper, and thought initially about not replying at all, leaving her to silence and hushed platitudes again, but still managed to deign a single word as they continued to maneuver along the outline of the meadow. “Deer.” He pointed to a track as they lingered in its stead, then continued on, patient and observant.

Then, some meters ahead, he finally saw his target. “Get down,” he commanded, swift and keen, as if he were once more in charge of a league of soldiers, all at his beck and call, all united in a front, in a stand, instead of lingering in frosted outcrops. “There - ,” and he pointed again towards the shape grazing nearby, making himself small, a daunting task, in the waves of grass. He suddenly wished he were higher, in a tree, where he could’ve blended into shadow and bark, notched a bow in the confinements of needles and pine, instead of lower and lower still, where his target might sense and see him long before he had the opportunity to unleash fire and brimstone.

Still, he had to try, because to go without meant a lesser chance for survival, and he’d gone too long persevering to suddenly collapse, wither, and decay. Slowly, cautiously, he grabbed an arrow from his back, taking his time to trace the strings, the feathers, the hastily-made contraption now his one saving grace. He collected those moments, wrapped his fingers around the cord, pulled back so his muscles roared, deliberately awakened and incensed by the thought of cold violence, and let the arrow fly.


Photo and Table by Time
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary
Lily Balfour
Entertainer

Age: 34 | Height: 5'9'' | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: N/A - Strg: 16 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 14 - Int:
Played by: Astor Offline
Change author:
Posts: 440 | Total: 4,350
MP: 0
#6
lily
from what i’ve tasted of desire
i hold with those who favor fire
In general, Lily’s pretty good at mimicry and following directions; she watches Deimos (without ever knowing his name) with a keen eye, trying to step where he steps to minimize crunching sounds, hunching over to make herself as small as possible (infinitely easier, given their size difference). She works for this, works to make herself better, though she’s never drawn anything other than a small knife on anyone - and that was purely to dissuade the handsy fellows from getting to familiar.

She flattens herself as best she can, almost in his shadow, gaze flicking back and forth between the doe and the purposeful, steady movements of his arm as he draws and notches the arrow. So rugged. So… manly. And that? That thought genuinely surprises her, because Lily takes great care not to get crushes on anyone. It’s not a practice that is good for business. She may genuinely enjoy her time with her audiences and customers but when the time they’ve paid for is up… she is out the door unless they offer more.

The arrow flies, and despite its apparently shoddy craftsmanship, is shot with such force that it hits the unsuspecting doe and is buried deep in its side. The creature staggers to one side, but it is likely that the arrow has luckily, and neatly, slipped between its ribs and punctured something. It tries to flee but finds it cannot get far - collapsing into the snow.

The scene is both sorrowful and promising, for though Lily finds the gentle animal’s imminent death sad, she knows there will now be food - and it’s been quite awhile since she’s had venison. That is, of course, assuming the mystery man is willing to share - the thought that he might not hasn't even crossed her mind.
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
#7

Deimos the Reaper
You can't take back the cards you've dealt on this
long and lonely road to hell
the throne must be such a sad and lonely place

He wished the arrow had hit more true; quick, keen, without too much folly or anguish. But they’d been shoddy, not his best efforts, hastily made because he wanted to ensure some meat on the table. The soldier frowned slightly as he watched the doe falter, staggering before falling, collapsing against the earth, one more sacrifice in the series of slaughters and offerings they persisted and devoured each and every day. He waited a few moments, still crouched in hunting position, waiting for the finality to descend or for the woman to gasp, to cry out; but the latter doesn’t happen, and the former faded away into the ether.

The Reaper rose and walked along the field towards the deceased beast, hunkering down when he arrived at its side. In his childhood, he might’ve uttered some solemn vows or prayers, thanks towards the deer, but now he understood the weight of words and worth, and simply pledged to find a use for every single portion of its frame; nothing gone to waste. The hide could be used for clothing, the bones for weapons or tools, and the meat would be for sustenance. However, he had no intention of dressing the deer here, out in the open, where the scavengers would soon start hovering, hoping for opportunity. It would be best done near his home, already close to the outskirts.

He lifted the deer over his shoulders, felt its weight linger down his broad back – like days before, carrying his comrades, collapsed against his figure from a fatal blow. His eyes flickered briefly to see if the woman was still there – a watcher, a witness – and what she intended to do, for he began a march, a bit slower, towards the settlements. “If you want some,” and here, he snickered, smirked, a smidgen, good humor sparking in the oddest moments, “you best come and help.”



Photo and Table by Time
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary

Lily
Lily Balfour
Entertainer

Age: 34 | Height: 5'9'' | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: N/A - Strg: 16 - Dext: 19 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 14 - Int:
Played by: Astor Offline
Change author:
Posts: 440 | Total: 4,350
MP: 0
#8
lily
from what i’ve tasted of desire
i hold with those who favor fire
What, did he think she wouldn’t want to get her hands dirty?

She thrusts her chin out, ever so slightly defiant, petulant, call it what you like, but it looks good on her - stronger than she’s ever been before. There’s a light in her eyes that matches her hair, a twitch in the corner of her mouth that indicates the beginning of a smile. She hops in an ungainly and very unlady-like fashion over the snow, struggling to make her way through it towards the man. But make it she does, hair and clothes akimbo - but she imagines those things have never meant much to the hunter.

“Give me something to carry,” she demands, holding her hands out for his weapons, or, I don’t know, something. If Deimos hands her something, she’ll bear it without complaint, waiting another moment before starting in on introductions - something they’d conveniently been unable to do before. But ‘hey you’ just seems so rude.

“I’m Lily. You are?”


{we can end it here and say he introduces himself, or you can post again! But i think it\'s pretty much done?}
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
#9

Deimos the Reaper
You can't take back the cards you've dealt on this
long and lonely road to hell
the throne must be such a sad and lonely place

He smothered a laugh at her defiance, it resounded like more of a snort, as she trudged her way over. The beast could at least give her credit in that she’d been a willing participant the entire time, hadn’t balked aloud, hadn’t recoiled at the fire of the shot, and didn’t seem diminished even now, when it’d been clear she hadn’t experienced any of this before. The warrior arched a brow at her demand, but said nothing else, sidling the quiver and bow down his shoulder, beneath the dangling limbs of the doe, so it would hang off the edges of his arm until she took it.

Then introductions took place. It seemed like a peculiar pattern when Deimos was concerned – never quite committed to the sensation of discourse or pleasantries, much preferring the work of action, the benefit of its rewards. He usually asked if necessities required it, but callings and names were never foremost on his mind. Thereafter, though, he always committed them to memory, in case of a need for future retrieval, for required deeds, for machinations and munitions. “Deimos.” He nodded at her own title, placed it within his mind beside flaming red hair and the slightest amount of sedition. “We can go to my home and I will cut you a piece.” Then he continued walking, slightly ahead of her to lead the way, and once they made it to his house, he intended to dress and utilize the deer’s gifts.


Photo and Table by Time
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary

Lily We can be done here! <3


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