trade our scars

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

The pattern shouldn’t have felt so familiar – but there it was, carved into the lines of his spine and the roll of shoulders, of the bulk and frame and mass of a man who charged headlong into defenses. Who accepted the blade with a steady, calloused hand, and a wake, a wealth of experience, nestled into the brim of his skin, into the flesh of his muscles.

The pride centered squarely on his shoulders for a matter of moments, where he stood within the entryway of the Deepfrost Shields and realized they were his again. He’d have to move his belongings back. He’d have to dust over the maps no one had touched. He’d have to refurbish parts left to fester and decay. He’d have to bark orders and mark commands and train recruits who’d been left to fend for themselves. And he’d have to defend, siege, and assault any of those who stood in Halo’s way again.

For a brief second, he permitted a smile – alone, stepping through the gaps, over to the desk he’d utilized much before. The elements of air at his command whipped around, whipping away the dirt and grime left on the hardwood, and then his eyes went to everywhere else in the vicinity, to the roar of the fire, to the parlor’s tables, to the miniscule notches in between.

Then he sat, grabbed a piece of paper from one of the drawers, and began to plan.

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

KIADA

ok, ok, i never had wings, only feathers

& i cried like a baby when they left me

She could’ve snuck out in the middle of the night. She’d thought about it. She’d thought about making a quiet little disappearance back to the Grounds. But it struck her as wrong the second she saw the light in the window of the Barracks, because who else after Morgan’s death would fill that role other than the man she thinks it is.

But the truth of the matter is that she’s lost all feelings of safety here. Surely he can understand that. Surely she can meet him face to face and swallow her pride and worries to focus on giving him at least that explanation. So she does, feet dragging as she makes her way to the door of the Barracks, feeling more and more like a ghost that haunts these walls more than a person that had lived around here at all.

Knuckles rap against the door a brief second before she opens it, stepping into the room and lowering the hood over her head, her iceberg gaze lifting to see Deimos sitting at his desk, and she finds that she can’t get any words to leave her lips. And so, awkwardly, the harpy just stares.

& i bled every time somebody touched me

ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light

does it really matter, anyway?

we all get swallowed eventually

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

Charcoal to paper, sketches and outlines drawn downwards, the Sword had come to the end of the first parchment before there was a knock at the door. His head whipped upwards, glance shifting from the detailed potentials, and to the person standing in the doorframe. The depth of his piercing eyes widened, perhaps in shock or surprise, because he had no way of explaining the emotions rankling and rattling underneath. He’d know and love her anywhere, in any capacity, but didn’t understand how or what to do any longer.

So the monolith stood, moving his chair outwards, expecting words and finding none cast from her – like an echo, like a ghost, like a refrain. “Kiada,” he rumbled instead, to fill the world with something other than his uncertainty. “I did not think you would want to see me.” No matter how many letters he’d sent, how much he’d reached out, how many times he’d walked by Chulane’s farm or home; pondering an approach or what to say. He’d half-expected her to be gone already, like they’d had in previous conversations, following the reasons she’d extended before sieges, exiles, and banishments. A mustering of inquiries nestled on his tongue, and he swallowed down multitudes, relying on one for now, making no other movements. “Are you well?”

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

KIADA

ok, ok, i never had wings, only feathers

& i cried like a baby when they left me

He breaks the silence and thank the gods he does, because words keep turning to ash on her tongue, unsure of where to even begin. But he begins it, her name a rumble in the air between them before a partial elephant in the room, something that has her moving, has her frowning, approaching the desk slowly and without a sound. “I was in the area.” She shrugs, arms flailing slightly at her sides as if she can finish the sentence without actually saying anything else.

Is she well? Not really. Noah had tried to kill her around the Sea of Glass. She doesn’t intend to stay here. “I am.” She lies, arms folding behind her back as she straightens up, takes a deep breath she doesn’t need, lets her gaze dance around the room before they land back on him again. “I wanted… To tell you that I’m leaving.” She should have asked how he was, but given the state of everything? She needed to tell him.

“I’m moving back to the Grounds. Tonight. I saw the light on in here and knew it was you. I figured the least I could do was tell you in… Person.” Her lips twitch in another frown and her gaze drops from his face – perhaps to protect herself from seeing the disappointment, the hurt.

& i bled every time somebody touched me

ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light

does it really matter, anyway?

we all get swallowed eventually

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

Sometimes it was moments like these that made him see exactly how he was viewed by others. Where he truly mattered in the scheme of things – like those he loved and cherished. “In the area” signified an array of speculation without pinpointing one at all – leaving him to draw his own conclusions: he wasn’t worth the effort. “I see,” his eyes immediately downcast upon stone, or the hearth, spine trying to hold him bone by bone.

And then the impending departure; one he’d expected. He wouldn’t have driven her out. He would have protected and guarded and shielded, but he understood. He always had, in some way, shape, or form, trying to fathom and parse through her reasoning. They’d spun along this precipice before. He hadn’t liked it then, and he certainly didn’t now. “Thank you for letting me know.” But as always, the Sword wouldn’t stop her. The choice was hers and hers alone.

He made no maneuver to hold her, to crush her to his chest, to safeguard her beneath his chin. Reaching for her wouldn’t have ceased the incoming moments. Begging and pleading wouldn’t have ensured she stayed. He didn’t know what to do, other than stand and remain. So there was a nod, comprehension in motions, before his gaze lifted back to her. “Do you need anything?”

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

KIADA

ok, ok, i never had wings, only feathers

& i cried like a baby when they left me

It’s a good thing she isn’t looking at him. Because even the answer, the I see makes her wince, has her chewing on the inside of her cheek, has her hands in her sleeves suddenly wringing her wrists despite being unable to feel it. She swallows instead, takes in a slow deep breath that does absolutely fuck all of anything to try and calm her nerves.

“I wanted…” No, she cuts herself off. What does she want? She wants there to be no war, no tear between them. So instead, she swallows hard, (a second time) before she shakes her head and decides to state what’s truly on her mind. She owes him that much, doesn’t she? Even if she feels like the rebellious child, telling her father to fuck off in a roundabout way despite not actually meaning it.

She doesn’t look at him. She can’t. “I'm not comfortable with staying. Not... Where I'm unsure of whether the leadership here considers me a threat. I don't trust Noah to not think of me as one.” She pauses, at a loss for where to pick up the thread. “So I have to go where I feel the safest. Not just… Not just for me, but for you too.” Her gaze lifts, desperate, a glimmer of fluid coating her iceberg gaze. “You understand that, right?” It’s a whisper, only because if she speaks louder she’s positive her voice would crack.

& i bled every time somebody touched me

ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light

does it really matter, anyway?

we all get swallowed eventually

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

There were too many layers and perplexities to pick through, especially in the weight of silence and the certainty of history. He bowed his head and listened, willing the darker corners and emotions of his mind to cease and desist, knowing the turn of anguish, the pull of it beginning to edge along the surface. He’d combatted it so many times it almost felt habitual and routine; and he’d been doing well in the past couple of seasons by not faltering or flickering straight back into those inveigling waves.

And she still wouldn’t look at him.

Something in his ribs threatened to crack, and it couldn’t have been his heart because that had been broken too many times already; so he settled for listening. Her lack of comfort in staying. Not trusting Noah to not view her as something threatening. He nodded, breaking the mold of his stillness once more. “You know I do not think that,” which might not have mattered, but he needed her to hear it. “But I understand.”

The slight lift of her chin and the glimmer of tears just about did him in, and he had to glance back at the hearth, fighting off his own despair. Stop it he wanted to say – though he wasn’t sure to who. Maybe himself. At the last bit though, the piercing slate of his eyes flickered on her once more, all pain and lack of definition. “What do you mean?”

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

KIADA

ok, ok, i never had wings, only feathers

& i cried like a baby when they left me

“I know.” She cuts in briefly, before her voice threatens to give out. She works her jaw a moment, feeling that automatic tick of her heart deep in her chest, even despite the sour feeling that churns in her gut. It’s more emotional now than it is physical, but a part of her is still glad that she has that to feel rather than everything else. She could expand on the thought, but he’d said he understood.

She should leave it at that.

And so, she does.

She can’t help but to sniffle, to break her attention away to wipe away those bastard tears, discomfort edging on the corners of her lips where they pull into a small frown as she meets his gaze again – her iceberg hues glassy and unsure, uncertain where they meet the pain of his. “I mean that you won’t have to worry about me.” Because she’d be somewhere safe, with the rest of the Ascended. Until war loomed on the doorstep and there wouldn’t be anymore saving her. "I'll be where an Ascended is safest."

& i bled every time somebody touched me

ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light

does it really matter, anyway?

we all get swallowed eventually

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

The statement made him choke – a sense of irony flickering down in his throat, and it seemed to come out as an angst-riddled laugh; churning away in the smoke of the hearth and the anguish miring the sanctions. “I will always worry about you.” As he’d done in the Basin. As he’d done during LongNight. As he’d done a thousand times over in a myriad of ways – through multitudes of ventures and disparities. Her departure just meant he couldn’t see her – and given the way the earth was shifting and maneuvering quickly, efficiently, there were no luxuries in the statement.

Where an Ascended was safest was up for debate too, considering who continually pushed them into trials and tribulations. There were no sentiments or semblances of trust embedded in Wessex; especially after the latest, acrimonious plunge. For someone who claimed protection and safekeeping of her own, she did a damned job of ensuring her poor choices rankled down the rest of them. How many, especially innocent Ascended, were now in danger with the threat of retribution? Keeping his hands in his pockets, or clinging to pieces of the cloth and fabric there, he tilted his head, avoiding her stare once more. “Did you hear about Stormbreak?”

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

KIADA

ok, ok, i never had wings, only feathers

& i cried like a baby when they left me

He would always worry about her, but she wanted to take the steps to try and push it off as far as she could. It wouldn’t be that different, she thinks, from when he’d been banished from Halo – left to wander until he could return, while she continued her life here, fighting monsters and surviving all the same. Still, the admission makes her fidget in place, even despite the stillness Ascension has brought her, and she works her jaw lightly before she swallows, nods, lets her gaze find the floor and a particularly interesting mark in the floor. “I know.” She admits, because she doesn’t want him to think she didn’t believe him.

As for the rest, though, they don’t make eye contact when his voice rumbles through the office space of the Barracks and she shakes her head immediately, dark brows inching together for a moment before she considers it. “No. I haven’t.” And then she draws silent, allowing him to offer the information should he want to – though she imagines it’s useful, given that he’d questioned her on it.

& i bled every time somebody touched me

ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light

does it really matter, anyway?

we all get swallowed eventually

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

Nothing. Just the I knows like little daggers and knives to etchings already made over the surface of his bones. Something about the notions, the way she didn’t bother to even glance his way, spurned a spark of anger, and his jaw clenched, before his eyes went to the fire at the hearth. The warm glow residing on Zuriel’s mane. The stillness of Belial, with only his ears flicking back and forth. They’d had this conversation before. It hadn’t been easy then, and he hadn’t believed it’d needed repeating.

With a heavy breath revoking his own motionless stance, he snagged at what he knew. “From what I was told, Gideon, a priest from the Order, attacked Sam. Sam must have fought back, and they both lost their lives.” A pause, so she could digest the information as it came – the notions of Samuel just gone, even after years since they all lingered together in the Grounds, had been a surprise. “This led to Edrei, Amun, Wessex, and Nate attacking Stormbreak, with Ronin defending the city. The Tower was toppled, and quite a few perished. Edrei is dead, Nate is gone, and I am not certain what consequences will be rendered thereafter.” If any at all; time was on a constant, swinging march. “I just want you to be careful.” Because things were volatile – even if Kiada had always been a stickler for survival.

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

KIADA

ok, ok, i never had wings, only feathers

& i cried like a baby when they left me

Samuel being gone is a blow that Kiada doesn’t expect. And despite the fact she doesn’t need to breathe, it doesn’t stop her from her breath hitching in her surprise, the widening of her eyes, rimmed with a silvery look from the way the fluid builds up within her in a faux attempt at reddening her features. It simply makes her look colder than she had before, and she quickly tears her gaze away to the fireplace instead.

Then, more bombshells in the form of an attack on Stormbreak in retaliation, Edrei’s death, Nate’s… Goneness is something that confuses her but she can already feel the pit in her stomach grow and grow until she doesn’t know what to do with the heavy weight that’s settled there. “I see.” Is all she can manage at first, her voice feeling like more of a whisper than anything with strength behind it. Her gaze drops from the fire to the boards at their feet, nodding her head and brushing away a stray lock of dark hair that’s fallen out of her braid. “I will be careful. I promise.”

& i bled every time somebody touched me

ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light

does it really matter, anyway?

we all get swallowed eventually

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

Something in his chest built into a tight, gnarled affliction, beating erratically and painfully, and he looked away again – down along the woodgrains and dust upon his desk, upon the floor, on a range of hues reflecting from the embers and fire. So much loss and still much more to come, and really no way of stopping it other than protection she didn’t want from him. Deimos didn’t know what she yearned from him now – other than to sever remaining ties again and again and again – nooses and knots he failed to recognize or see or believe in.

The solemnity stayed, though he wished it would stray. “And Bastien too. From landsharks.” Another blow, another multitude of protection and sanctity gone and riddled into nothingness – acrimony and violence and nothing the artist would’ve craved. At least he is with your mother now wanted to echo on his tongue, but it didn’t make its way through his mouth, feeling like ash and soot. “Maybe you can look in on Azrael too.”

The promise might mean something or nothing; because he’d known her to be tenacious when it came to her own decisions, whether they be foolish or dangerous. Persistent and enduring, quick and witty, sharp and clever, but –

“All right,” was a guttural murmur, taking shape out of his melancholy, and he didn’t know what else to say or add. Lost, a bit, as he so often managed to drift.

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

KIADA

ok, ok, i never had wings, only feathers

& i cried like a baby when they left me

The news of Bastien stills her that much further, the Harpy retracting into herself, a shell of the fiery girl she once was as she swallows hard. “Gods.” She breathes, shoving her hands hard into her pockets to hide the clench to her fists she wishes to indulge in. “I will. I have to.” When it came to her mother, despite their differences, only Azrael remained and she couldn’t sit there and pretend like they weren’t related, like they weren’t a part of each other’s lives one way or another. And even if the version of her mother she knew was a different one, perhaps… Perhaps, some stories would be similar enough to give Azrael an idea of what their shared mother was like.

Her hands remove from her pockets to rub at her arm, huffing out a small sigh and a frown, her head ducking and chin dipping slightly as she works her jaw. “I should hurry then, make sure Azrael is okay.” Because even if it wasn’t up to her, even if they weren’t her responsibility, she’d be there for them whether they needed it or not. And with this news? She certainly intends to arrive ahead of schedule.

& i bled every time somebody touched me

ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light

does it really matter, anyway?

we all get swallowed eventually