[Training] pulse of a steady beat

Deimos Belial, undeterred by Deimos’ quiet command, was more than eager to be bribed by Cordelia’s jerky. With a contented chirp and snap of his jaws, he’d snagged the meat in between his teeth with great relish, enacting a few aerial spins in his excitement, then meandered away to land in the sand. And even better, leave them alone to cut apart the meat and figure out exactly how to best utilize the jewel. Using his hunting knife, the Sword withdrew the prize from the animal, gazing upward at it as it shimmered in the sun. Contemplating, musing, and speculating, he perused through his mind over the length of the rumors. “Maybe around your neck?” Holding it sounded too easy, and there was always the potential to drop the ornament, leaving one possibly stranded. “Give me a moment,” and his incantations wove around the adornment, casting along in a simplistic design, ivory, like the snow, like the mountains, and likely tight enough to be worn around, touching over a nape, without instilling choking measures. Passing it over when he was through, his head tilted vaguely, waiting for her to place it on. “I have been asked to re-establish the Monster Hunter’s Guild,” by way of getting right to the point, as he so often did. No sense in meandering along the path. “And for that, I have to stay in Torchline.” His eyes glanced at her then, brow arching. “For now, anyway.” Since they all knew what the end goal was – and it hadn’t been the sand or the beaches. “You are more than welcome to do the same.” It just meant they were leaving behind another figment, another point, in this bizarre journey back towards summits. Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime

Cordelia

Cordelia watched silently as Deimos took the gem once more, focusing his magic on it to create what he thought suitable for her, taking his time to get it right. Her lips twitched into a smile at the choker he created. It was simple in design, but that didn't take away from the beauty of it. The way the ivory stood out against the gem and her tanned skin when she took it in her grasp. Carefully affixing it around her throat, Cordelia paused, brows knitting together at the news.

"Where? Surely not Halo." They couldn't get back in. Not all of them, at least. So where? Cordelia asked, head cocking to the side, waiting for him to enlighten her. Something she doesn't have to wait for very long. Torchline. It wasn't Halo. Not even close. Still, it would have to do. She can't help the way her expression fell as she thought back to the home they would be leaving all over again. She knew it wasn't meant to be permanent, but it had been theirs. Now they were displaced all over again. "You know I won't stay there without you, Deimos."

And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free
We're still the kids we used to be

Deimos He didn’t miss the way her face fell, and somewhere along the etching of his spine, his guard came back up. Unyielding, unbending, waiting for the lines to be cast, for the patterns to settle, stoic, resigned to his fate. Where he reached out and others went in different directions, where family became nothing more than a passing figment, a memory wrapped and trapped in heartache. Where he strived and tried and it still wasn’t enough. He was used to being abandoned – left behind in a myriad of ways. And it quietly, silently, crushed him each time, until he’d eventually become a desolate figure, trying to keep his head above the surface. Doomed and damned to repeat the cycle, even when he’d acknowledged he needed people; just the same as everyone else. So Cordelia’s response left him surprised, bewildered, eyes widening, jaw a little slack, before a whisper slid in between all the ruminations, all the expectations. “Oh.” A light laugh filtered and flickered from his lungs in spite of it, the breath following only collapsing the ramparts he’d slowly been building over the surface. Relief, maybe, over all the other tides of presumptions. “I am sorry for it just the same.” A smile etched its home in the corner of his mouth, and if it was sad or pensive, he said nothing of it. “We can always go back one day.” Halo was the goal anyway – even if King’s End harbored other promises and possibilities. Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime

Cordelia

Cordelia felt his emotions flicker along the bond, growing weaker as his walls grew stronger, shutting her out as he prepared for her to tell him no. She doesn't. How could she? Deimos was her family now. Noah told her that staying with him was her best option. She knew it in her bones that leaving either of them was wrong. How could she even consider it? The Attuned felt a soft smile curling on her lips, expression melting into something far more vulnerable at his muttered 'oh', stepping forward to wrap her arms around his middle in a tight squeeze. She dropped her cheek against his chest, lingering there as she let out a long breath, "You know, for being so smart, you really are a dummy sometimes." She muttered quietly, not letting go for sometime as he gave her an apology, making a promise that they could go back.

"I know you are and I know we can. It's silly being upset, isn't it? I hadn't meant to think of it as home, but it was hard not to." When they'd chosen to settle there together two seasons ago after leaving their home, Cordelia knew it was going to be temporary, but they'd made it home. Even when Noah had to leave, he always came back there, making it the only place that was somewhat constant in their lives as they existed now.

And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free
We're still the kids we used to be

Deimos He took a much larger breath, withholding a bounty, a slate, multitudes, of emotions – snorting at the figments of conversation she muttered. Another apology threatened to slide through, and there weren’t enough explanations in the world to convey everything brimming along the surface. So he took the comfort, wrapping his arms around her in turn, placing his head purposefully on top of hers, to be uncomfortably heavy, obnoxious, brotherly, and irritating. “You are probably right,” muffled through his chest, another laugh threatening to brew over the apprehensions and trepidations built. The Sword released her, and grabbed what meat they’d managed to snag, intending to utilize some for the market, and others for their personal pantry. Her statement wasn’t wrong; difficult to parse through the clarities, and what home represented. He’d been piecing it all together in makeshift shelters, the unsettled proportions clinging to his bones, and the longing for ice and snow pushing him forward, onward. “Maybe it can be a future place for vacations,” and he laughed, nudging her in the direction of the bazaar. “We will have something like it again.” And he tried not to make it sound like a promise; because the mountains were supposed to be both those angles. {FIN} Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime