Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
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08-14-2022, 10:11 AM (This post was last modified: 08-14-2022, 10:12 AM by Deimos.)
DEIMOS
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Bragging rights and dessert seemed to be a justifiable reward, though it still left the Sword with a snort and a small smile. With Talyson’s plant seemingly in place, Deimos rose from his crouch, already surveying where he’d seen the fruit trees, and beginning to manuever his way along the rows.
Not ignoring the inquiry though, he stuck to another faint, muffled laugh, piercing eyes landing on apples and oranges rather than anything else, before winding his way down a lane that seemed as if it might need a kick of citrus. “We used to try and get them from below, when they would land on the water.” Which had been tricky, asinine, and absurd; but better than simply racing after birds that could take off quickly and efficiently, leaving youths scrambling about in outcries along the sand. “Three. Though one of my cousins got five in a single day.” And they’d all eaten well.
The courier hopped up to follow Deimos, cactus still carried with him as if he was reluctant to set it down. But Boreal stayed where she was, still as a statue carved from glacial ice. Tal tilted his head at her curiously then shrugged and followed after his friend.
And as soon as the humans had gone, the greenhouse's top predator struck. The fat ningo scampered out from beneath the bushes and began to gleefully scratch up the freshly planted seeds, unheeding the motionless icy lump a short distance away on the cobbled path.
Which was when it realized - too late - that it wasn't the top of the foodchain in the greenhouse anymore. Very briefly. Before it ceased to think about anything at all ever again.
Meanwhile, back with the humans...
"You mean... you waited under the water?" Tal asked, pale eyes wide with admiration. "How long did y'have to hold your breath for that?" For someone who didn't know how to swim the feat seemed far more impressive than it might have to a Torcher.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
The Sword paused for a moment, head tilted, predator senses lined with sudden accord; thinking he’d heard a very brief fluttering of wings, and then nothing at all. Eyes narrowed speculatively for a moment longer, but when he heard nothing else, he let the thoughts rest - finding another empty spot amongst the other saplings. Repeating the familiar pattern by now, Mastered Earth incantations peeled back enough layers of soil to be suitable for an incoming seedling, before placing the orange sprout within.
Before meandering into further enchantments, he laughed at the inquiry. “You wait and tread water for a while, until you see them get comfortable and land.” While the gulls weren’t as paralyzingly numb as ningos, they still had self-preservation. “Then you dive underneath a distance away, and grab them as you are coming back up.” As for holding his breath, the General shrugged his shoulders. “Depends on the tide, and your swimming ability. Could be around a minute or more.”
Tal listened eagerly, trying to imagine what it must have been like...
Though treading water sounded like Deimos had been in water too deep to stand in, and the courier shivered with a delicious hint of fright at the thought. It was fun to imagine it here, safe in Halo where water was safely frozen, but the next time he went to Torchline...
"Damn," he whistled, impressed in spite of his intention to play it cool. "Oh, hey, wait a sec--" While Deimos settled his sapling Tal cast about until he found a watering can nearby that still had some of that rare unfrozen liquid in it. He fetched it back to give the little citrus plant a drink, pretending to focus on that while he snuck a glance at his friend.
"So, uh. How'd you learn to swim, anyways?" A question asked with a self-conscious clearing of his throat. "Is it hard?"
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
It didn’t surprise him that Halovians wouldn’t have the same degree of swim prowess; there certainly wasn’t any place within the Citadel to roam, and the isolation away from potential pools, like in Torchline, had meant long travels simply to learn the art. He watched as Talyson watered the seedling, and then the monolith moved the earth back over the sprout, permitting a stretch of incantations to blend into the soil again, concentrating on the task while he answered.
“We all did as children, considering how close the ocean was to our homes.” It would’ve been detrimental to be left ignorant of the waves and tides – especially with the natural, inborn curiosities that youths proclaimed. “Our families or friends would teach us.” The more experienced lending their sagacity and knowledge to the others; as he did so often know in battle-readiness. “The difficulty depends on what you want to do.”
Tal's nose wrinkled at the thought of being taught by any of his sisters, though they didn't know how to swim any more than he did. There were other options, too, but Tal scuffed the ground with his foot, unsure of how to ask for yet more favors. Instead he gave the General a rueful grin, reaching up with a free hand to rub at the back of his neck. "For starters, just not drownin' would do," he admitted.
A peculiar look passed over his face and he looked up as Boreal ambled down the path to join them, a particularly fat, white ningo hanging from her boxy jaws. She dropped the bird at Tal's feet proudly and he obediently reached out to scratch her chin as he looked down at the bird with bemusement. "Huh...Good job, girl."
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
The insinuations lurked in between; Deimos could sense them, even if the inquiry wasn’t mentioned outright. Time wasn’t on their side now though, nor his preference for teaching along Torchline – though, given Talyson’s role and experience in Halo, maybe the sudden cold snap in its reaches wouldn’t matter to him. And he wasn’t going to mention his and Evie’s trip to the springs for multiple reasons. So, when the question didn’t launch, the General concentrated on his own efforts, watching as the orange sapling began to ascend to the surface. “You could choose a place with a shallow end,” images roaming towards the Miana Pool, or any little pocket inlet along the sea, “and stand within it. Get used to it.” Splash about. Be foolish, but not dangerously so. Become comfortable.
Curiosities from before nestled in layers when Boreal reappeared – a ningo dropped at the courier’s feet. Bemused, the Sword permitted another smile before rising from his crouch, and meandering back down the line of trees to find a place for the lemon. “There you go. Dinner for the evening.”
Torchline's coast was entirely delightful to Tal in this season; the unnatural chill was well within his tolerance and was still warmer than Halovian Longheat. But time and tide and War were waiting for no one, and such carefree pursuits were better left until all the chips had fallen. Tal might not have wanted to admit it, but the thought lingered as he nodded acknowledgment to the General's suggestions. "Yeah, beats going ass over teakettle over a waterfall into the deep end," he admitted with a sheepish wince and a faint flush of remembered--
Uh. Divinity.
Tal scooped up the bird, separating out a few feathers as he remembered another task on his list, and tucked it into his Bag while Deimos coaxed the sapling into fruition. "For one of us, at least," he chuckled, rubbing Boreal's eye ridges fondly. "She ate a big meal a few days ago. But she always has room for treats, somehow," he added with a grin, sounding a little proud of that silly fact.
"So, uh. If y'grew up on the coast, how'd you end up livin' in Halo instead of Torchline?"
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
His eyes narrowed speculatively, turning them on Talyson for a moment, pondering where he’d been lurking amidst waterfalls. Maybe it was an offhand comment, or he’d wandered amongst the Greatwood or the Climb – leaving the courier to his own musings, but noting the sheepish wince and flush – carefully placing his arched brow down into a more reticent expression.
Easy to do when he was searching for the right place for the lemon seed, angling it along another ending proportion of a row, committed to the cycle and pattern of workmanship. The question that came thereafter though gave him pause, because that was a long story, and not without the piles of history layered upon multiple lives, ghosts in the frame of his bones, and many furtive notations few would ever hear.
He kept it purposefully light, renewed purpose in carving out a niche for the sprout. “Ended up in Helovia, eventually, at a land called the Aurora Basin. It was remarkably similar to here.” In between wars and ice and rime and crowns, blood spilled and deaths marked, marched, upon nefarious moments. He shrugged his shoulders thereafter, placing the seed within loam. No mention of sickness, of losing everything and everyone, of traversing here, awaiting death outside the walls and halls of the Citadel. “The mountains always seemed to be home.”
Tal flushed a deeper red under the General's regard, but Deimos granted him a reprieve from trying to explain the Celestine and almost drowning and Frey and chocolate covered bananas and--
Yeah. It had been a weird day all around.
He let out a quiet breath when they moved on to the lemons and he followed along with the watering can, ready for the next seedling to sprout as they talked. His nose wrinkled at the name 'Helovia,' not ignorant of the similarities in the sound of it, and sensing that there was a great deal that was being glossed over.
But that was just the way Deimos was, and Tal watered the seed that had been patted into place with a look of fierce concentration all out of proportion with the task. "Do you. Um. Have any brothers or sisters?" he asked, this time a little more hesitantly and stealing an anxious glance at his friend in concern.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
There were multitudes of history that Deimos had never bothered to unfurl, and they likely weren’t going to echo amid the greenhouse today either. Secrets were secrets, furtive and tucked close to the chest, locked and corded away until they might be a necessity, and how he’d wound his way across battlefields, bludgeons, death knells, and plagues weren’t going to be the highlight for a moment of planting.
When Talyson didn’t press any further, the Sword simply continued in his incantations, watching as the water lingered along the top of the soil, before pulling the sprout further into the light and humidity of the atmosphere.
The hesitation in the question gave him pause, brow furrowing slightly, because he never talked about them either. “Yes. But they are gone now.” Dispersed between worlds, perished, deceased, incapable of being seen. However, it wasn’t like he was without those he considered kin, so he shrugged his shoulders, rolling the notions away. “But Hotaru is like a sister to me.” An irritating, infuriating, incendiary one.
Gone was such a lost, lonely, final word. Vague in one way, but in all the ones that mattered--
Enough.
However old the loss or healed the wound, Deimos offered no further details and Tal, coping with the missing pieces in his own heart, wasn't one to push beyond the initial inquiry. He nodded awkwardly, but grasped for Hotaru's name with an inward sigh of relief.
"Oh, Hotaru," he scoffed, but couldn't stop the grin that lit up at her name. "She reminds me of my sisters, too. It's the bossiness," he added, smug in the knowledge that she wasn't around to hear him right now.
Not that he'd hesitate to say it to her face, even with retaliation guaranteed. "Hey, is she back yet? Haven't seen her since Leafchange and I was gettin' kinda wor-- I mean, uh. Wonderin' if the spa was gonna shut down." Yeah. Definitely that last part, even as he rubbed furiously at the back of his neck, nose wrinkled in dismay at what had almost slipped out.
the ocean does not apologize for its depth and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Relieved Talyson asked no further, for Deimos wouldn’t have given any more regardless, his concentration narrowed back to the sprout, drawing it upwards until the green leaves unfurled, and it resembled more of a sapling, stable enough to remain within the glassy fixtures without constant assistance.
His head tilted vaguely in attention, incapable of muffling the brief snort at the mention of Ru’s bossiness. The inquiry thereafter made him twist his piercing gaze back upon the courier though, mildly shaking his head. “You can be worried about people.” Didn’t need to cover it up or hide it – the Sword was regularly drawn into apprehensions about his friends and family. “We hunted swamp rats recently. She seemed all right, but I will ask about her intentions.” He shrugged his shoulders, never quite capable of explaining the Valkyrie’s actions – but understanding them, to a sense.
Besides, he had every determination to break into the spa, regardless.
Unfurling another sigh, his eyes went back to the plants and trees. “She is capable of hiding away for months or seasons at a time if she wants.” And not like him – tucked away and withdrawn – because Deimos would stay amongst people without revealing himself at all. Ru could slip off into the expanse and not be found.
Seed became seedling became sapling under Deimos's ministrations and Tal flexed his fingers on the watering can's handle and looked down to Boreal, who sat between them. The weighty conversation topics left no room for envy, however, and by the time Hotaru's name came up the courier was thoroughly distracted.
He ducked his head at the calm, maturely-spoken reassurance, chin jerking in an embarrassed nod at being caught out after all. But when he glanced up at the news of the Valkyrie's recent activities there was a small grin on his face: relief, though he still didn't admit it out loud. Learning a bit more about her - and a little about Deimos, who sighed and looked away at Ru's habitual disappearances - earned an uncomfortable shuffling of the courier's feet as he looked down at them again. "Yeah, well... know a little about that, m'self." He could run his Longheat course through the Tundra and over the Sea a great deal faster than he usually chose to, barring emergency. Though the approaching War might well qualify... "How'd you two meet, anyways?"
