it's down to the wire this time
For Morgan!
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
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MP: 9824
#1
DEIMOS
the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
The Sword had sent a note to the Warden when he was ready. When his mind was steady and his hands not shaking and the machinations settled into the forefront of his cranium. Too much at stake, too many altercations, too many hastened notions and motions; all of them brewing and brimming over. So he rendered that inscrutable mask upon his features as he stalked up the streets towards the Council Hall, pails at his sides, with the bits of earth and ash from Apopo. As if those little morsels and offerings would save him.

At the appointed time, the General maneuvered his way down the parlors and rooms, tracing over the foundations and nuances of a world he’d known for nearly a year. Of things he might lose. Tall and unyielding, manifesting and mustering that pragmatic force that somehow didn’t curl past his ribcage, he remembered. He recalled conversations, words upon words that scalded and mired. He seethed lightly, as if it brushed against his veins. The pendant rested beneath furs. The world scorched in his recoil and grace. Nuance after nuance echoed, unfurled and unleashed.

And then he knocked, awaiting damnation again. “Warden,” was a rumble, remaining outside until Morgan bid him to enter.
for the space they take
and so, neither shall I
Morgan Aristomache
the Glacier
Warden of Halo

Age: 42 | Height: 5' 9" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 6 - Strg: 23 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 22 - Luck: 14 - Int:
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#2
MORGAN

Morgan was entirely unawares of any significance to the day; she had risen and gotten dressed, come for breakfast then begun work much the same as any other. That day, she had been drawn into writing a letter settling a dispute between two market stall holders by the gates; one of the less exciting, but very necessary, kind of duties her position required of her. It wasn't always expeditions and grand decisions - it was often the small things that kept the Citadel ticking along.

The knock made her glance up from where she had just signed her name, the ink still wet. "Yes? Come in." As he opened the door Morgan blew lightly on the signature then once it was dry, folded the letter up deftly in her hands, briefly raising one to gesture to the chair before her desk. "Oh, you have the things for Frey - wonderful, General. Thank you."
Would you have it any other way?
You couldn't have it any other way
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)
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Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#3
DEIMOS
the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Something made him cringe inwardly; fighting the grimace threatening to take over his face. Instead, it was a deft sigh, and subsequent motion of placing the pails and buckets in the corner, and then leaving them for the chair before the Warden’s desk. The Sword would have preferred to stand – comforting in the fact that he could easily bolt if need be – but pulled it outward, sitting in the space provided, in the threatening, still silence thereafter. “I did not request a meeting to drop them off,” though they could’ve been an excuse.

How to best begin quickly pierced over his lungs and ribs. Never an elite orator, Deimos was far more practiced in verses of action and disaster – which was how he’d gotten here in the first place. So his eyes gauged the floor for a moment, stance unyielding, spine straight and taut, waiting to puncture his own snares, be pushed into his own pitfalls. And this was just the beginning. “There was an incident in Torchline.” Then he lifted his eyes, waited to gauge her reaction – presumed it wouldn’t be good. Persisted, because it was all he had left. “I set fire to a building of the Governor’s. He was using it as a spy ring.” To mettle and meddle, to infiltrate and inveigle. “And I have reason to believe he set up the same here, within the Kraai.”
for the space they take
and so, neither shall I
Morgan Aristomache
the Glacier
Warden of Halo

Age: 42 | Height: 5' 9" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 6 - Strg: 23 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 22 - Luck: 14 - Int:
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#4
MORGAN

"Oh. Well, go on then." She gave a wave of her hand, expecting Deimos to tell her about supply lines, maybe some interpersonal conflict between his soldiers, an idea for the Citadel; Morgan didn't even look up right away, comfortable and sure.

That quickly faded as he spoke. She snapped her head up at the word 'incident', assuming they were here to discuss how they would help. A disaster, something with the monsoons maybe. They could organise troops, ask for favours, provide aid to the people. Morgan's head was already working in problem-solving mode when Deimos continued.

All she could do was blink, breath held as she tried to absorb what she was being told.

Initially, anger flared up in her and it would have been very easy to shout; he should have spoken to her before now, he should have known better - but she swallowed it. Not that she wasn't angry, but the best way to find out the situation was to be calm and let him explain it all. Then she would dole out punishment as she saw fit. Voice clipped and controlled, she finally spoke: "Tell me all of it from the beginning and do not leave anything out. I want every detail, Deimos. Talk."
Would you have it any other way?
You couldn't have it any other way
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 Online
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Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#5
DEIMOS
the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
That was the problem, wasn’t it? He should’ve known better. He had known better. He’d very rarely been a man driven to pursuits based on impetuousness and impulsive natures. That had been for moments built upon in youth, meant to be torn apart when he grew older, wiser, when lives took on different pathways, when they split in accord with everything he’d tried to be.

And the Sword hadn’t truly faced the Glacier’s wrath before – uncertain where all that would be in the crossfire. He’d already managed to map out several consequences for himself; the implications pressed down the back of his neck and spreading through his spine, in the long, lingering breath he took, in the composure melding and molding to the forefront of his features.

It might’ve been easier to unleash and unfurl if Morgan had been angry – immediately flaring as Safrin had done. He could withstand another’s temper, become a rigid, composed stone in a sea of bombardments. But these cool, detached filaments, a device readily used by himself, made him feel as though he was about to be sternly lectured no matter which direction he went in. Faced with ice, he could only become a frigid beacon in return, layering out the procession with his characteristically clipped, keen statements. “I wanted to get revenge for Ru. After everything Sunjata had done to her.” After he’d unleashed warning after warning.

“An informant showed me the guildhouse for this spy and crime ring. In order to get in, they used a bracelet to show fellow members, something labeled with a D.A., though I do not know what it stands for.” Uncertain of the D moniker, and likely presuming it meant very little in the bramble and branches of things, he persisted, eyes on hers. “It was behind the gym.” The Slagveld’s front left in almost working order. “There were no people within the building. I launched several fireballs to the office, walls, and floors, then I left.”

No mention of Ru. No mention of Atlas. No mention of the those who’d come after, for he hadn’t been there when the ensuing events took place. Gone in the wind.

He sighed, jaw clenching and feathering again. “Their purpose is to spy, obtain information, and circumvent the law. He is likely using the Kraai in the same manner.”
for the space they take
and so, neither shall I
Morgan Aristomache
the Glacier
Warden of Halo

Age: 42 | Height: 5' 9" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 6 - Strg: 23 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 22 - Luck: 14 - Int:
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#6
MORGAN

After Deimos had started this by talking about a spy ring, the shift to personal revenge was a surprising one, and one that did not at all help his case. Morgan's eyes widened and she fought to keep her mouth shut, wanting to hear it all before coming to a judgement (though it would take something of monumental proportions to have this come out well for Deimos).

The details of the spy ring were honestly hard to concentrate on; Morgan had been sure prior to this that Torchline, much like Halo, had it's spies - it was a smart part of controlling a region and not anything she would begrudge Sunjata. The Kraai being used could be cause for concern, but something she would have liked to discuss and investigate, instead of being thrust into it with literal flames.

Once he had finished, she laced her fingers together before her. "...You understand that I have no choice but to strip you of your position." Morgan spoke methodically and quietly at first, laying out what had to happen. "You have acted violently against a leader Halo is allied with without speaking to me at all and what's worse, you apparently had personal reasons for this. You know just as well as me that the correct response to finding a spy ring is not to commit immediate arson, Deimos." There was a flicker of her true anger in her eyes then, as she looked up at him.

Now her voice showed a little more emotion; namely hurt, though some of that rage did come through: "I am...shaken. Betrayed. I considered you not only an excellent General but a friend."
Would you have it any other way?
You couldn't have it any other way
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)
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Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#7
DEIMOS
the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
His piercing gaze left hers, drifting down, down, down to the floor, awaiting the blows. They came as expected; though missing proportions he thought she would’ve adhered to (like a damned spy ring in her kingdom – as if that was something acceptable). Maybe that was why Sunjata seemed to get away with everything – the indifference, the nonchalance, the way the world could turn their heads and carry on. His jaw feathered again, considered the nuances, biting back, thinking to refrain, to keep his sentiments bowed and muffled, and then not. “I understand.” A breath, and then some manner of diligence, a spread of vexation. “So we allow allies to infiltrate kingdoms. You are fine with that?” Then what was the purpose of trust? Of armistices anyway? For them to go back and forth amidst pretenses? Until one of them – like himself - were too overt in their rage? Had to be picked off and away because there’d been consequences, repercussions?

The way she needled thereafter though. He could accept the stripping of his rank. He could accept the lecture. But the hurt? The Sword’s eyes twisted right back on hers – and in between the multitudes of cold, interwoven anger for himself and for all the things flickering amongst his mind, there was anguish riddled there too. “A friend, though I do not receive the same consideration as Loren or Neron. After all the things I have done for Halo. And for you.” Brows furrowed, and he permitted a long lingering breath to pilfer out of his chest, another harsh intake of air rattling along his bones; feeling hollowed, extinguished, and refilling the punctures with defiance.

“Do you really want to discuss betrayal?” Safrin’s words crawled down the length of his spine, and he was unyielding, unwinding, unattainable, unreachable again, the glacial, frozen denizens of a soul scraping away at the duplicity. “When you used me to maintain your position, to go to the Hollowed Grounds with Neron.” And here he paused, his vocals low, snagging at the tethers and chains. “For personal reasons.”
for the space they take
and so, neither shall I
Morgan Aristomache
the Glacier
Warden of Halo

Age: 42 | Height: 5' 9" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 6 - Strg: 23 - Dext: 20 - Endr: 22 - Luck: 14 - Int:
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#8
MORGAN

At first Deimos signalled his understanding and she almost thought that might be the end of it, that the ever-stoic General would get up and leave once the matter was done. But no, unlike how she'd come to know him, he continued and dug his hole. His first point was almost laughable; in fact, she nearly did laugh. "That is not what I said. Be sensible. I would want you to bring me proof and reports of what they were doing then we would have discussed the matter. A council member that finds out such a thing then goes off to act violently on his own is not a liability I can afford." She would speak to Sunjata about the  Spy Ring, once she'd discovered more about it herself. See if they could come to an agreement. "Acting as you have, the whole matter is now complicated, out in the open and a shock to me - and I will have to pick up the pieces."

Then it seemed he took her words of hurt, which she had expected to be met with apology or empathy, as offensive, and went on the attack. It was quite eye-opening to see Deimos speak like this; Morgan closed her eyes and raised her eyebrows, trying to process all of what he'd just said before she responded.

She did not like to argue, but she wasn't going to let all of that stand.

"...I did not know you felt that way. As far as I am aware I have not shown any preferential treatment - Neron was my Warden when he was in power, and he had that position taken. Loren certainly made his mistakes, but he had a moral dilemma, not..." Morgan waved her hand towards Deimos, perhaps letting her anger get the better of her: "Petty arson committed by a man acting like a child."

As for LongNight...she took in a heavy breath. Had he felt this way the whole time? Silently resentful, thinking her a user, a betrayer? She really had felt they were friends, that she had in Deimos an understanding fellow soldier. "You were asked, Deimos, and you said yes. I went to honour an agreement with Wessex and I was not aware anyone else wanted my position while I was gone." Morgan let out the breath with a sigh, her fingers tightening around her knuckles.

"I don't understand how else you thought this could have gone. You went to another region without my knowledge, you destroyed something of Sunjata's violently, you don't even have an apology for me - and now you attack me and my leadership. It's not what I've come to expect from you." Again, her hurt side was showing through, the fresh wound in her heart under the shield of anger; with someone she considered close, it was hard to keep those walls up. "If you have nothing else productive to say, leave."
Would you have it any other way?
You couldn't have it any other way
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 Online
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Posts: 6,554 | Total: 10,647
MP: 9824
#9
DEIMOS
the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
He thought he had been sensible, in between the drinking, the thoughts of vengeance, and everything else scalding against him. But he withstood the barrage after barrage, varnishing the stoic reticence again, folding back in on himself, letting the lecture settle into his mind. “I did not intend to make things more difficult.” Arson had been efficient. It was everything else thereafter. His teeth gnashed together, and he flinched at being called a child, simmering in the bastion of his mistakes, and the cracking, crumbling foundations of things he’d built. It hadn’t been worth it.

But it was the denial, the way she contorted around the subject matter that perhaps told him everything. The pendant didn’t even need to warm itself against his skin. No point in addressing what he’d said previously to Safrin or Ru – the discussion hadn’t even made it that far.

So the monolith shook his head, rather than burying himself deeper and deeper, because he could feel his blood boiling and boiling in his head, and there multitudes of other things to do now – to take his things out of the barracks and simply go. To honor other promises. He stiffened and yielded, bowing his head and rising from his chair. “I did consider you a friend. I always had.” And he felt like he was beginning to swiftly lose them – from speaking his mind, from no longer keeping those peaceful conjectures, for no longer maintaining the status quo. For committing to stupid actions, and for daring to step out of line.

And the Sword didn’t know what anything was now.

A huff of anger and hurt wafted away from his lungs, the bitterness, the rancor, the derision, the suspicion, everything brimming and brewing over the top, and if he didn’t leave, it was just going to become worse. “I apologize,” because there was naught else. Speaking the truth and striving to uncover the barest minimum of lies meant he was attacking. Not showing his regrets meant he was someone else entirely. Deimos fought for control in a place fathoms within; the Reaper thoroughly extinguished. “Thank you for allowing me to serve Halo.” He couldn’t even look at her.

Just turned, and left.

{FIN}
for the space they take
and so, neither shall I


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