northern downpour sends its love
Rexanna De Rosieres
the Penumbra
Messenger / Diplomat ☆ Artist's Sanctuary Guild
Age: 26 | Height: 5'4" | Race: Ascended x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 4 Abandoned (Level 3 Ascended) - Strg: 19 - Dext: 14 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 9
Played by: Skylark Offline
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Posts: 984
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#1
RexannA
but darling, in the end,
you've got to be your own hero.
She knew he didn’t want to come to the shrine. But she had questions that needed to be answered. What kind of threat was out there that the Naturals feared so much? She hadn’t been around enough to hear of those that had learned the answer. And she needed some kind of guidance, council on how to deal with the tension that was nearly palpable in the air. So she had taken Deimos by the hand, made a pit stop at her house to gather a couple of the flowers she had planted for the gods. Pinkish purple for Frey, a deep violet and blue hue for Safrin, and a unique grayish black with little red stripes through their petals for Ludo. She had returned from the house, thankful to see Deimos hadn’t left, with three of the violet blooms in her hands.

She was proud they had managed to grow with that white ravens help.

With the flowers in hand, she sucked in a breath and looked to Deimos briefly before they made the trek to the shrine in the Temple. When they arrived, the room was dark, though light filtered through the stained glass. It felt strange to her, to be in such a formal place. But she approached the shrine with a bit of apprehension, silently hoping that Frey would forgive her for calling upon another god. But she knew Frey would find her questions boring, and frankly, she didn’t want to upset them more.

She placed the few flowers on the shrine and stepped back beside Deimos and inhaled deeply. “We ask for you Safrin, in the hope you might help us understand what we should do in this trying time.” Her voice was soft, as she glanced over to Deimos with a small smile. Hoping the goddess could give them some kind of direction, something to do. Rexanna didn’t want to see the Hallowed Grounds destroyed because of a disagreement on how to handle the Spire and the barrier surrounding it.



Deimos will be joining this shrine thread!!
because everybody's so busy
trying to save themselves.
coding

No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Rexanna, without killing her <3
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
General of the Hollowed Grounds ☆ Artisan's Guild
Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 Abandoned, Level 5 Attuned - Strg: 21 - Dext: 21 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 18
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 930
MP:
#2
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
The warrior stayed when he was quite inclined to stray. The foreboding sense of unease clung to his veins no matter how many stops they made along the way, the mounting gloom of ominous, ridiculous consternation and apprehension whittled its way into his throat, and he was doomed to a brooding, brewing silence. He followed, because Rexanna knew what she was doing, and he was a damned, lost cause, yearning to find answers but almost unwilling to regard the one she’d proffered. Asking, pleading, and begging for a deities’ attentions had gone so blatantly wrong.

The Reaper had little to offer any god. They’d made it abundantly clear before.

He was a living, breathing weapon when they had cutlasses, rapiers, and powers of their own. They didn’t require his calm, his cold-blooded demeanor, or his cruel, devious machinations. They didn’t require his sulking, anguishing presence. They didn’t require his promises, oaths, and assurances.

He caught her smiles, but they did naught to unravel the tension flickering off of him in waves. The inevitable encroached; he could feel it stir in his bones, the curl and coil of isolation and remoteness amidst the pious shrine, swarming against his frame in the holy temple. Go away Abandoned it almost seemed to say, without eyes, without ears, without a heart – the omnipresent, potent vibes clawing and crawling along his spine. Had they not craved answers for the incoming oblivion, treachery, and absurdities of the hour, Deimos wouldn’t have been there at all. Rexanna insisted. He was trapped.

She called for Safrin, and he simply stood there, uncertain of what to say. The last time he’d ever pledged himself to some unseen beacon, he’d been kneeling, drowning in the constant rain, screaming, hollering, howling for an answer, for a sign, that never came – their quiet had been a death knell. He swallowed the memories, the bile, the choking, disastrous ash smoldering on his tongue; waited for the inevitable, for the strike, for the silence, for the unavoidable.

master of nothing place; of recoil and grace

Age: 0 | Height: | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Natural
Level: - Strg: - Dext: - Endr: - Luck:
Played by: Admin Offline
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#3


It was indeed a trying time and much as she would like to, Safrin was not the one with the ability to be everywhere at once.

Or perhaps she simply had no desire to speak with two abandoneds from another world. Hard to say.
Rexanna De Rosieres
the Penumbra
Messenger / Diplomat ☆ Artist's Sanctuary Guild
Age: 26 | Height: 5'4" | Race: Ascended x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 4 Abandoned (Level 3 Ascended) - Strg: 19 - Dext: 14 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 9
Played by: Skylark Offline
Change author:
Posts: 984
MP:
#4
RexannA
but darling, in the end,
you've got to be your own hero.
She waited a bit, to notice that nothing happened. Deimos, a tall dark and quiet force at her side had nothing to say either. And so she continued to wait for a few minutes longer than before before she decided they likely weren’t coming. Frey has shown up fast, and she sighed to herself, glancing to Deimos with an almost apologetic look. Perhaps he was right, perhaps they both were bad luck. Perhaps she had used all the good graces she had gathered from Frey way before ever thinking she should try and talk to another god. Regardless, she folded her arms behind her back and turned from the shrine – leaving the flowers there as she looked to the temple door.

I suppose you’re right.” She offered him through the quiet and somewhat dusty temple. “I don’t think they’ll be answering us today. Perhaps we should think on it more and try to gain more information?” She questioned, looking back toward Deimos. But part of her pride was wounded, too, and she wondered if her wariness of the shrines had anything to do with it. And despite her fact she’d only tried once since her meeting with Frey, she wondered if they’d ever answer her again. She wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t, especially if things continued to get worse.
because everybody's so busy
trying to save themselves.
coding

No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Rexanna, without killing her <3
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
General of the Hollowed Grounds ☆ Artisan's Guild
Age: 26 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 6 Abandoned, Level 5 Attuned - Strg: 21 - Dext: 21 - Endr: 25 - Luck: 18
ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
Change author:
Posts: 930
MP:
#5
DEIMOS
And in your darkest hour,
I hold secrets flame
So there it was. Silence – overbearing, overwhelming, telling silence. They weren’t coming. Either he, because the beast didn’t place any blame on her, had caused the inexorable outcome, or it was just the way things were, would always be. But he didn’t give her an ‘I told you so’ glance or smug response, even as she admitted it. He didn’t want them to fail. It was just how the world worked on those who’d long since been abandoned; he’d learned far, far earlier. They’d have to make their own fates again – ignoring those sketches and outlines that consecrated notations of their lifelines and movements, their maneuvers and etches. He’d veer straight off the path to prove them all wrong. Watch me, he almost dared, he almost voiced.

Instead, it was the stoic, indifferent contortion settling over his nonchalant features. He’d resolved himself already; the apprehension gone, the truth solidified before them. Nothing. You are not worth our time. “Yes.” He acknowledged her statement with a nod, a brisk turn, an opportunity to flee and leave and get the hell out of there.

There had to be something else. The Gods couldn’t have everything in their grasp.
master of nothing place; of recoil and grace


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