[SE] Bone dry

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us Deimos could hope for more – like Neron ceasing to exist – but there were far more important things to consider with the ramifications, consequences, and actions as of late. He settled for a chuckle that didn’t exude from his chest like before. His eyes on Belial, who had begun drifting to the left, the attention to the inquiry left another arch to his brow. “Best to show, probably.” He’d yet to utilize the shift in any brazen manner – and in some part it was because he’d believed he hadn’t deserved to, after how everything with the Ascended had gone. But now, with Halo secured, and the world trudging closer to impending treachery, perhaps more practice in the massive threshold would be necessary. So he shifted – plucking at the strands of the avian figure resting deep within his walls and confines, until wings outstretched and feathers extended and his shape became even more imposing than it’d been before, taking to the sky as if he was born into its denizens. Ethereal and mighty, overwhelming and powerful, he maneuvered forward, purposefully roaming by the dragon as some sort of amusing tease, before drifting around. the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left

Tal was expecting wings. Feathers. Something compared to an eagle what the hellhound was to his dogs. Maybe lightning? Based on the name alone all sorts of fanciful shapes tried to conjure themselves in his mind's eye.

None of them came even remotely close to the grand size and scope of the unleashed thunderbird.

"Hooooly shit!"

The courier's mouth fell open and stayed there as he looked up at the massive avian form that crackled with electric power. As Deimos took flight, knees weak from shock gave out and Tal sat down on the sand, head still tilted up to see the mythical creature breezing up into the pitiless blue sky.

Boreal rumbled a small roar in surprise as she was eclipsed, blowing a huff of disgruntled smoke in the feathered General's wake. And then her eyes caught sight of the shining, sparking, sparkling crest-feathers of the great bird and the bright gleam of avarice shone in them. Broad wings flapped heavily to find altitude as Deimos came around, trying to get high enough above him for mischief to unfurl - and damn the consequences.

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us The predacious elements were nearly the same as the eagle’s, but in such massive quantities and qualities that it took a few moments not to sink into the carnivorous elements, to strike out against the world, the void, simply because he could. Adjustments in control, in the relishing of power all the more, beckoned through feathers and wings, and he breathed, easing in the predilections, until those too were recognizable - him, Sword and Reaper, coiled and contorted. He could hear the courier down below, and if birds could have snorted he would have done so, shaking his head and maneuvering onward, tracing the fabric of the skies with greater intensity and ease. At which the dragon apparently thought themselves high and mighty – and Deimos wasn’t a creature to back down from any sensation of goading. There could’ve been a warning traced there, but he twisted, turned, and then unfurled a pitch of his wings on a tremendous scale – intending to launch formidable wind and gusts and gales towards the dragon, and knock her askew in any version of flight. the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left

Tal couldn't understand the complexities of thought and emotion that an animal shift came with, much less the far more profound gravitational forces of a mythic shift. He could only look up from below and wonder at the size and majesty and sheer, elemental power of the bird his friend and mentor had become.

"Uh... can you see the starlight from up there?" Tal called up - and then winced, remembering that he was supposed to be quiet. There wasn't any other way to communicate with the General now, though, and hopefully the sulfurous pools were a shark-deterrent? Just to be on the safe side the courier scrambled up and dusted himself off, trotting in the direction that Deimos had begun to fly.

At least until Boreal tried to position herself for a feather-snatching run. She was a burly, sturdy companion, but she wasn't nearly sturdy enough to overcome the sudden gale that sent her tumbling ass over teakettle through the air, finally floundering herself upright and out of her fall a little ways above the hard ground. She grumbled and growled and shook her head to clear the ringing in her ears as she began to fly stubbornly up after the thunderbird once more.

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us He hadn’t forgotten about the well, or the peryton seeking out the starlit phenomenon, but the dragon had been distracting. Much more so because he had to remain so discreetly in control, in check, of his powers without accidentally demolishing the beast – but it was beginning to fracture and fray at the boundaries he was exhibiting. By way of a vehement snort, and the crackle of lightning surfacing, exuding, along the reaches of feathers, he presumed that’d be enough for the much smaller companion to back off. Nodding towards Tal, emphasizing he’d understood, he hastened after Belial, who began chirping off to the left. He drifted for a moment, sharper eyes taking in the sand, the dunes, the pools, before noting the speckles of cosmos, the telltale markings of Safrin’s powers. Thereafter, he descended, a wide arch of movement and motion, to indicate the location in time for the courier to see, witness, and notice. the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left

Boreal wasn't one to retreat from many challenges, but the great bird was on its guard and there would be no sneaking up on it now. That alone took half the fun out of it, and she snorted a puff of smoke and angled her wings away, pretending to be bored with the game. She circled slowly down to float a little ways above Tal instead, as if to make sure he didn't get lost.

It was, luckily, hard to lose a giant thunderbird on a sunny day in the desert, so even Tal could keep his direction with Deimos overhead to indicate the way. He trotted along with an eye to the surrounding pools, careful not to step too close to an edge and slip in his memories of a twisted ankle in the Climb still painfully fresh. He set Boreal the task of watching for disturbed earth from above, freeing him to pay attention to his path and his guide.

What the courier lacked in strength he made up for in endurance and a body used to full days spent running behind the sled with the dogs, helping to push it up inclines and over drifts. Though the unfamiliar desert heat and punishing sun quickly had him panting as the sweat rolled off in rivers.

Whoa, you let your feet run wild

Time has come as we all go down

There was a huff of air from exhaled from his lungs towards the dragon, but she seemed to take the hint of his boundaries and limitations, and left him to his own devices. Eventually though, between the strung silence and incapability of Attuned measures with the courier, he’d have to shift back – and so the descent was a gradual one, slowly arching, turning, sweeping, in a broad circle. Belial joined him for a moment or two, so they were in tandem despite the size differences, twisting and alternating in fierce displays of ferocity untapped between layers of feathers or fur.

And then talons became boots and the Sword was returned in his human aspects; lifting his head to peer across the sands, remaining still and stoic as Tal caught up. The search for a ripple in the sands, a clear indicator of incoming predators, was noted and taken too, but through all the commotion, they seemed to either stay away or not crave the sulfur aspects.

“Over here,” came a deeper rumble as the other pair closed in, jutting his jawline towards the starlit well – lit and glorified, in the middle of the bizarre landscape.

Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—

Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?

DEIMOS

Tal's pace slowed as he reached the General once more, and he peered past him towards the well with a faint frown cutting a line between his brows. "Huh. I guess I was expecting something... I dunno. Bigger?" With a shrug he pulled his pack around to retrieve the water canteen he'd brought for the day's second task. If he'd been stronger he could have brought more... but as it was, two canteens - one for him and Boreal, and one for the god - had been his limit.

At least the trip back would be with a lighter pack!

He walked gingerly closer and peered down into the well first, but his eyes found only starlight and he pulled back, dazzled and shaking his head. He felt a little silly, pouring water into a well, but he did it anyways while Boreal amused herself by flying through the starlight column and trying to catch sparkles in her heavy jaws.

"Is... is that really it?" he asked when he was done, looking back to Deimos for confirmation.

Whoa, you let your feet run wild

Time has come as we all go down

Lacking involvement in the latest search for any deities, the Sword could only shrug at the indication. The well was enough to sanctity the area, and inform others of whereabouts without them meandering and wandering through underground terrain, which could always yield far more treacherous efforts. “It does the job,” he snorted – eyes going upward to glance at Belial’s form, Stygian and black against the desert sky.

Figuring more wouldn’t hurt the cause, the General advanced too, peering down into the cosmos and galaxies reflecting there; charmed, maybe, by all the efforts laden there. Within a moment, his own incantations brimmed and brewed, then exuded beyond the surface of his flesh and bone – water manifesting, then cascading, to follow the courier’s. While it rallied, he arched his brow back at the youth. “Were you expecting something else?” Danger, hazards, and perils were a dime a dozen; one stomp of his foot or nefarious compelling could render them surrounded in an instant by far more sinister cretins.

Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—

Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?

DEIMOS

Couldn't argue with that logic, Tal decided as he shrugged and made space for the General to add his own benediction to whatever warm-weather god hunkered down in the dry basin far below. He cocked a wry grin at his friend. "I dunno, havin' to solve a puzzle or defeat a guardian or somethin'? I'm pretty new at this whole god-helpin' business." There was laughter in his joke, and he gave a little shrug.

"Right now, I'll settle for gettin' Safrin's help with those goggles. But, uh... is the bottle gonna be too small for your talons?" He peered at his friend, eying strong hands and fingers a little dubiously as he remembered how big the thunderbird's claws were. "D'you think the stopper needs to go in while it's still up there, to keep the high air from spillin' out on the way down?" Did air even work that way? It hadn't exactly been covered in the Snowcloak public education system.

DEIMOS

“Give it enough time,” the beast countered with a dry tone and demeanor, considering the implications – experience told him there was always something lurking, meandering, through the midst. Even if there wasn’t a war looming, monsters, guardians, and a whole other layer of unknown lurked along, until there came a point where it was an expectation. Granting and giving more of the plunging water, he waited a few more moments, pleased and content with the amount, before tucking the magic back into his veins.

Besides, there were other means to address. “I can probably use the eagle shift instead,” after giving way to several machinations – smaller talons, and maybe enough distinction and coordination to place the stopper within. “Perhaps. I will try anyway.” With that, he altered his stance – shifting into feathers once more, but with far less mass and far more sienna emblems, much more comfortable and familiar with the lacquer of this particular raptor. And drifted, hovered, talons extended to grasp whatever bottle Tal had.

"who's gonna let you?"

they asked. i said

"who's gonna stop me?"

A wiser man would have been given pause at the promise, but Tal just grinned smugly at having guessed right. Just because this journey had only been blessed with the presence of one captive little landshark didn't mean all tasks would be so smooth, or so painless. He had scars of his own to show of such journeys in the past; ones of far less consequence and gravitas, of import to only a few, and far from the machinations of gods and kings.

But for now he could rest easy in the presence of friends and companions and a job finished and done...

well.

The pack was already off from retrieving the canteen, so it was a simple matter to tuck the flattened leather bladder away and draw out the small wooden box instead. Inside were a collection of thick, sturdy glass bottles; two filled, two empty, and carefully packed in with straw and and ningo feathers. As Deimos shifted Tal drew an empty one out and pulled the stopper, offering both to the hovering raptor with eyes squinted against the buffeting gusts of great wings. "Good luck!" Gathering the air would likely be a simple task for the shifted General. Getting the stopper back in... that would be the tricky part.

DEIMOS

Maybe luck wouldn’t be needed – but certainly some tactful skill.

Grasping the bottle in his talons, along with the stopper, the eagle soared. Quicker, faster, swifter in this form, for it was much smaller than its thunderbird counterpart, the comfort and ease with which he drew in amongst the air was palpable. Twisting, turning, descending, flickering in and amongst the dry winds, gave him such a resolute disposition that the freedom pressed between folds of wings and feathers, contentment, even in the dismal heat, thrived. Even without Attuned measures and bonds, the courier should’ve been able to see it.

The liberation stoked while he moved, and the Sword presumed the breeze did the same within the glass. Taking a few more rounds within the drafts and currents, for amusement and ensuring there’d be enough for Tal’s quest, the more difficult portion came into play. Hovering for a moment, adjusting his wingspan accordingly, the raptor shifted so that he might be able to see his talons; and while his dexterity certainly wasn’t going to be the best under these circumstances, his control and precision were nearly always on par.

There were some instances of fumbling and contorting, but one or two tries he got there, and the top was enclosed, albeit probably not as securely as either of them would’ve liked, he arched, then plunged – ceasing only when he came within a foot of the Accepted, holding the artifact outwards for him to grab.

"who's gonna let you?"

they asked. i said

"who's gonna stop me?"

Tal watched from below, and the envy in his eyes was raw and yearning at the free, soaring flight that Deimos achieved on feathered wings that threw back the desert sun in browns and golds and scattered light. The eagle wheeled and soared, proud and wild, and for a moment the bottle and the quest were forgotten as Tal wondered--

Boreal's head bumped against his hip and her bass croon rumbled through his chest. The courier shook his head, and the formless thoughts, away as he scrubbed at the base of her horns and gave her a lopsided smile.

When Deimos returned to earth, Tal was waiting to claim the bottle and jam the stopper on more tightly, flashing his friend the bright, sunny grin that usually hid beneath his scowl. "Thanks! You made it look easy." Boreal eyed the eagle's tailfeathers with renewed curiosity and Tal leaned heavily on her head to physically squash the mischief before it could start. "Are you ready to get out of here?" The desert, the heat, the dry, sandy wasteland like a twisted echo of their snow-covered home. "Drinks're on me when we get back!"