{se} go fetch!

Hotaru

She's the kinda girl that you can never please

They’ve spent no more than a few hours in Torchline, and Hotaru’s nerves are understandably frayed. She’s confident enough in her own skills to say that it’s not noticeable to the average person, but Deimos is far from average. He is privy to too many of her thoughts, her habits and micro expressions that even she cannot fully squash. Perhaps that’s why he’s so easily talked into visiting the beach first thing. Neither of them is emotionally vulnerable enough to deal with Hotaru expressing her gratitude verbally, so she lets her expression do it for her in halves and shades of the full sincerity.

Already she has changed into her lightest clothes, shorts and a tank top replacing thick furs and layers. The sand is soft and hot beneath her feet, and the steady beating heart of the shoreline soothes another few edges off her anxious heart. At first they merely walk, though Hotaru knows herself well enough to anticipate the eventuality of her dragging him into the surf so she can beg him to toss her into the air like a young girl. The thought alone is distracting enough that she trips over a protrusion in the sand, and though she’s graceful enough to catch herself a startled yelp still leaves her lips.

Turning, she frowns at the dark shape sticking out of the sand. Hauling it out takes a quick tug, and she’s left with a thin cut of wood; clearly someone had cut a tree for a beach fire, but this one had come out too thin. It’s almost perfectly circular though, and an idea slowly dawns in her head. Grinning evilly, she wiggles it towards Deimos to show it off. “Care for a game of catch?” They can get sweaty and tired and then go lay in the shallows of the ocean waves. Perfection.

DEIMOS

Torchline used to be a representation of elements he’d eternally understood. The ocean, much like the mountains, had carved his bones, shaped his edges, established boundaries, verges, and vestiges that still lingered within. For now though, it carried the weight of its unfortunate establishment with infidels and morons; and he’d taken to watching Hotaru very carefully. If there were lines of despair. If there were haunting magnitudes. If it seemed at all apparent that she was ready to bolt into the direction of either Sunjata or Nate. If she appeared ready to fall apart at the distinction between sand, surf, and shoal. These worlds honed and harpooned so many memories, that it was possible, probable, that any of the notions could pierce and slip right through.

But despite his narrowed gaze and attempts at distraction (mostly juvenile – like compelling Hels to stalk around her head), there didn’t seem to be anything. Perhaps that was a warning too, that she was keeping it together with nothing more than the sea breeze and his company.

Maybe he’d underestimated the insinuations though, because before long she tripped over a piece of wood, and while he muffled his laugh behind his hand, Zuriel and Belial traded suspicious looks, automatically sauntering further along the beach, seeing the notions coming.

The monolith tilted his head at her inquiry; as if it were baffling, stupefying, and bewildering. “A game of catch,” resounded in a flattened tone, arms crossed over his chest. As if the trivial notions were far beneath him (they weren’t – he was already calculating something). Hotaru would know the angles of provocations and challenges, how they always brimmed and brewed to the surface of his entity, piercing gaze darting upwards, along the dunes. “Sure.”

And if she was surprised by his agreement, then maybe he could shock her further with his alterations – immediately shifting into the hellhound form. Massive, Stygian, behemoth regards, muscles bunching, unfurling, and then racing up ahead, only announcing his intent with a swift bark – waiting for her to throw and toss.

think about this
you have the ability to survive anything

Hotaru

She's the kinda girl that you can never please

It is certainly a warning. The calm before the storm. For has she not always been the storm child? The lightning girl? Those roots are not so easily forgotten even if she has strayed from her ancestral soil. He is right to worry. To watch. She does not shun or snark, instead grateful for his hovering and juvenile attempts at distraction. Somehow Hotaru knows that if he had not been here with her, something far more terrible would have already come to pass.

For now there is only the ominous lull as tension builds. Atlas departs with Deimos’ companions, privy to her thoughts in a way they are not and seeking to join them out of the crossfire. Hotaru is not dissuaded by his flat tone, her own smirk only curling further as she watches the gears turn behind his blue eyes. Breaking into a grin at his acquiescence, any notion of words or instructions burn away when his body begins to shift, dark and imposing shape still held but in far more primordial arrangements. For a moment she gapes appreciatively; witnessing his form up close is incredible after all, no matter how she’ll regret stroking his ego later.

His bark shakes her into action, and with a carefree laugh she throws the wood round, sending it sailing through the air in his direction. Immediately she ties up her skirt at the waist, ready to run after it if he can throw it back - she wouldn’t put it past him with how big his shift is - or to chase him down on useless human legs to try and retrieve it.

DEIMOS

It was too bad hounds couldn’t smirk or snicker; it would’ve read all over his boyish features. Instead, he unleashed a rather unearthly howl; something ancient, inherent, and innate, watching as several others beyond them scattered, rather than enjoy their time on the shoreline.

Then action took hold, focusing his attention on the primitive form of catch; Hotaru’s stick thrown and tossed in its assailment. For all of Deimos’ wiles when it came to combat, only very rarely did they have any demonstration or training in simply snagging at something thrown their way; far more prone to swords, to blades, to notching a dagger or spear into someone’s ribcage.

This was different, and required some measure of discerning. Massive though he was, the beast crouched instinctively, the same piercing eyes gauging, contemplating, surveying the swing of the wooden object in the air. He swept underneath it, moving quickly over sand and shoal, and snagged the element firmly into his jaw, clutching fangs around it. Content and satisfied with his accomplishment, he pondered the next maneuver.

He probably could toss it back. It’d be far more sporting of him.

But Deimos was indulgent at the worst times and prone to mischief, so he wagged his tail, turned, shifted, and rampaged further down the beach, the reward firmly in his mouth, and the devilry leaping in bounds.

think about this
you have the ability to survive anything

Hotaru

She's the kinda girl that you can never please

She scarcely keeps herself from clapping her palms over her ears as he howls, though her shoulders hike up against her will as it drowns out all other sound, including the burble of laughter that it inspires from her breast. It is a powerful crescendo of sound, but she can see his soul shining through the hound’s eyes, boyish and bright with mischief that she knows will bite her in the ass. Hotaru throws the wood even so.

When his jaws clench around it she shouts in delight, bouncing on the sand and cheering as her arms wave overhead in delight. It’s an entirely different skill set, in a body that has not trained nearly as much as his human form, and Hotaru delights in the way he effortlessly shows off. Up until he squints at her, frozen in the moment, and she reads his intentions out of his skull as easily as words off a page.

“Don’t you dare,” she threatens loudly, trying and failing to stop the twitch of her lips. When Deimos spins and takes off, she shouts and gathers her skirt to chase after him barefoot down the beach, abandoning her shoes and all sense of pride. She won’t catch him, but it doesn’t mean she won’t try. “Get back here!”

DEIMOS

Don’t you dare only told him he’d done exactly as necessary – long limbs pillaging through sand as fast as they could carry him – swift in and amongst the dunes, intentionally zig-zagging through other unfortunate beach-goers. Most of the citizens seemed either disturbed or shocked, and he didn’t glance back to discern, very much lost in his moment of juvenile exploits.

He could hear her chasing him, which only made him dig in more, jaw wrapped tightly around the stick as the pursuit continued. Rather than beelining straight ahead though, the beast rounded back, intentionally making the tease and torment worse, intending to cross near her path. As if forging some semblance of provocation and goading, for her to try and reach out, before he dodged, before he swiveled, before he churned and burned in the other direction.

Presuming at some point she’d simply electrocute him, the beast did eventually relent, dropping the stick near two shocked individuals standing very, very still, and then maintaining his distance again, waiting for her to throw it once more.

think about this
you have the ability to survive anything

Hotaru

She's the kinda girl that you can never please

It brings a laugh to her lips to see mothers snatching their children off the sand to their breasts as Deimos rampages past, husbands sputtering and lunging for open containers of food and drink. The mayhem is minimal but delightful all the same. Controlled chaos. And the two of them, in their own little world, as they have been for so very long. Far and above those who shoot them nasty glances of disapproval.

As he whirls back around, Hotaru gives in to childish notions, lunging across the sand and catching herself on palms and knees when he eludes her as she'd known would happen. It hadn't stopped her from trying, and doesn't now as she picks herself up off the sand and continues sprinting after him, gauzy skirt whipping around her knees. He is certainly right to assume her inclination towards lightning however, and when he drops she stick she slows her advance to a half-hearted jog, hair wild and matching the slightly crazed grin on her face. Snatching the stick before he could lunge for it anew, she spins and hurls it with all her might towards the reaching, thin waves at the shore.

DEIMOS

Mayhem and chaos and bedlam; once a welcome respite, cooled in the glow of Caido, only felt alive and well in the coiled, bunched muscles, as he unleashed it upon the beach. All in good fun, as mothers ran and children howled and fathers became modest shields – mighty wags of his tail and unearthly howls shattering any semblance of peace and repose on the shores. A raucous bark drowned out any outcries or protests, occasionally flicking his piercing gaze upon a family and watching them squirm.

But then he had to watch Ru, and his cranium spun, all raptorial, carnivorous predilections, save for the movement of his tail, the stance coordinating to that of a giant, lumbering dog willing to play with a proportion of withered driftwood. His mouth only opened, mildly agape, when her methods were to hurl the stick into the sea. His eyes tracked, followed, as it fell directly into a wave.

As if that would stop him.

A barreling, rampaging menace unfurled from the dunes, hind legs propelling him forward and with absolute, reckless abandon. He launched with little care for anything around him, presuming someone would move if they saw a canine the size of a pony colliding into the sea. For that was just what he did, landing with a mighty, careening splash, jaws interlocking over the stick again.

think about this
you have the ability to survive anything

Hotaru

She's the kinda girl that you can never please

She should have anticipated the water would not dissuade him, but it’s just as rewarding to watch the waves go up in a giant spray in the wake of his passing as he lunges into the water after the stick. Ru wonders, close to paroxysmal hysteria, if the beach goers think she is the companion or master of this giant hellish beast. Unaware of the playful man that inhabits the giant’s body.

Ru streaks after him, wasting no time this go around to get back into his radius should he dart off again. The Hels on the beach squawk and flap their wings, taking flight only to circle just above, searching for an opening to come back down to hunt in the wet sand. Ru is immediately distracted, and with a wild grin aims her fingers like a child’s gun and sends a streak of lightning to fell one from the sky in a blackened char of feathers. “Since you’re so good at retrieving!” she laughs, wondering if he will take the literal bait and grab the bird’s body for retrieval instead. They could certainly make it their lunch.

DEIMOS

Triumphant and gloating in a canine form, the beast maneuvered quickly along the current, eventually dropping his feet down where they could level out along the sand underneath. The stick still in his mouth, he tossed it towards the shore, where it landed haphazardly on an abandoned sand castle, squashing it flat.

Except Hotaru seemed to continue careening with other plans, and there was a visceral shift and tilt of his head as he watched – having missed the Hels taking flight while he was pursuing the piece of wood. So the Sword could only be a witness for a moment as the fingers were aimed, and took fire – a streak of enlightening, emblazoning, and then the bird falling down, down, down into the water. He snorted and barked, summoning some measure of amusements, shaking the great cranium, and still adhering to her request.

Why let the fowl go to waste?

He retrieved indeed, lobbing back along the waves with his precision, power, and might, gaining another platitude of muscles coiling and bunching, a workout of other means and measures. Jaw and fangs reached, plucking at the bird until it coiled in amongst his mouth, and then made his way back to shore.

Where he dutifully dropped the creature at her feet, and shook – an array of droplets cascading towards her.

think about this
you have the ability to survive anything

Hotaru

She's the kinda girl that you can never please

The stick is tossed her way, unclear whether it’s slobber or seawater that coats it now. Hotaru watches gleefully as Deimos’ attention is taken aside by the sound of her lightning, watching the Hel-shaped barbecue dunk into the shallow waves. Exactly as she’d expected he turns heel to gallivant back into the water to retrieve it, and Hotaru takes that time to pluck the stick from the sandcastle it had crushed and plant it like a flag, marking their conquering of the beach with their trivial play.

His arrival is hailed with sprayed water, and Ru sputters and lifts an arm belatedly to try and shield herself from the volley. It does little to help, but considering she’s already covered in sand a little extra mess doesn’t go amiss. Grinning, she grabs the charred and now soaked bird carcass in her hands, plucking a few charred feathers. “Think it’s time for lunch? We can even use your stick as a spit if we want to catch more.”

DEIMOS

Very content and amused, with a conniving, hellhound grin, as Ru sputtered and strived to hide from the spray of water, he maneuvered back from beast to man. He ignored the people they’d managed to distort, unravel, and shock, some mouths agape for a few more seconds before the individuals roamed further down the sand. Somehow they’d managed to garner their own little spot, and the devilish snicker returned while he grabbed hold of the stick once more, firmly in his calloused palms now. “Yes. I am famished.”

Considering the running, the leaping, the swimming, he’d worked up somewhat of an appetite. In no time at all, he’d managed to conjure forth a little fire pit for them, stones manifested or dragged by earthen incantations, rounding out proportions of a circle. The same could be said for the sticks piled underneath, and the stick now neatly adorned as a spit. The fire would come easily, naturally, a simple application of tactics and enchantments, before it was a roaring flame. His gaze went briefly back to her, by way of some teasing under more jests, jaw jutting towards the singular bird. “Will that be enough?”

think about this
you have the ability to survive anything

Hotaru

She's the kinda girl that you can never please

The change is fluid and well-practiced, and again she is overtaken by hopeful daydreams that perhaps it is something she can learn in the near future. That Frey will take her in and change her nature, that she will soon join him in the primordial field and have revealed to her the animal shape of her soul. Or at least the first. But those are considerations for later, even if the flicker of flames always seems to draw out one’s musings. It’s a humorous, entirely human trait.

The solitary bird is certainly not going to feed them both, and Deimos is all too aware if the amused tilt of his brows are any indication. “You may want to help catch one if you don’t like the charred outside,” she lobs back with a grin, sparks emanating from her fingertips as she stands and dusts off the sand on her skirt to go stalk the Hels on the shoreline. They are stupid things, and far too used to tourists and natives sharing the beach. Bagging another - or two, if Deimos prefers to lounge instead of hunt, though she doubts it - will be child’s play.

DEIMOS

A playful roll of his eyes occurred, as if he were put upon, rather than eternally ready to forge onward into some seething, unrelenting hunt. And that was the thing – somewhere along the way, in his multiple lifetimes, even without the predators all lodged within – he’d become a being fully capable of demolition. Destruction. Disarray. Chaos. Power and might and menace rolled and reeled into bloodstreams and veins of whatever form he possessed: but it’d always started as his human one first. Reaper and Sword.

There’d be no need for Ru’s magic on this one; not when he could shift once more, ascend sharply, quickly, into the skies. The Hels were far sleeker than the ningos of the north, but amidst the bewildered, rattled, and easily confused too. The eagle had no problem soaring into the sky, and then launching back downward, executing a thrill of his own, swift and fast and keen, before the Hel suddenly lodged in his talons had even known what hit it. The powerful and potent strength in his grasp ensured there was a rapid crack, bones splitting off of one another, before he dropped it near the other bird.

think about this
you have the ability to survive anything