[se] ash coating our hands

Whoa, you let your feet run wild

Time has come as we all go down

As much as he loathed and detested the desert, the potential to unravel further enigmas and possible theories was impossible to ignore. It would’ve eased his mind to find something else within the void of salt and sand, to simply know and understand that Halo hadn’t been the only one affected, or afflicted, by new and disingenuous growth.

And with other notions – such as spending time with Hotaru, whom he’d seen less and less of, family dinners notwithstanding. His theories reflected directly upon Sunjata, their spat a season ago about it, and various other circumstances. “Thank you for coming with me,” he offered as some sort of truce, his eyes upon the horizon line as the sun began to inch its way down, desperate to avoid the molten, infernal heat as best he could. “I was hoping to find any new plants. Gain information, store and journal it for others.” Eventually though, he turned his gaze towards the Valkyrie, a small smile threatening over his features as they began walking through the wake. “How are you?”

Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—

Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?

DEIMOS

The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display

For all the happiness that has been threading into the tapestry of her life these days, absence from Halo has not left her unaffected. Simply keeping stride with Deimos through unfamiliar land in an echo of time and time and time before is enough to make her heart warm and full in a way she doesn't try to hide from him. Given how they both know she's been away, she doubts he'll tease her overmuch for her sentimentality - though she can sense the branch of peace in the words he chooses, the assumptions she knows he has rightly made. He is a brilliant man, her brother. It would be foolish to think he would not know exactly what she was doing with her days.

"Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world." An equally multifaceted sentiment, a promise of I will always be here, even if distance takes me away. But that is a conversation she is reluctant to have - one she'd rather put off forever, frankly. The sinking sun lights up her skin, already a tone more gold than before with her time outside of Halo. Not nearly as insufferably strong as it normally is, which she suspects Deimos planned.

Deimos' small smile has her own creeping over her lips slow and sure, almost bashful. "Better than I've been in a long time," she admits. "Things are changing, and I'm not sure how much or how fast. It's intimidating, but I like to think I've always been adaptable." Even as she grows older, Hotaru likes to envision herself as a resilient woman, a flower capable of growing even through cracks in concrete. Turning her smile toward him with a slightly sly edge, she raises an eyebrow. "You seem happy too. How is the wedding planning going?" She'd received colors and fabrics for the happy couple, so she hasn't been surprised by the radio silence since.

This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides

Whoa, you let your feet run wild

Time has come as we all go down

The Sword would never be one to deny Ru’s contentment – her life had been rankled with edges of wire and thorns, sometimes tightened and corded together with whatever salvation she could find. He knew and understood it well, as his had been on a similar journey, but his parallels of forgiveness were minimal at best. Where she’d found root causes and ways to pardon, excuse, and exonerate, he simply couldn’t. He didn’t forget, and he rarely forgave.

But her peace had been elsewhere, tucked amidst the King’s End with a fool who didn’t deserve her, and in some way, he was going to have to come to terms with it.

For now though, he could appreciate the turns of their strides amidst the desert sand, the beckoning glow of enigmas in the distance, the night sky ensuring they weren’t melting into the heat. Comfortable and familiar, primordial habits from days long since gone and still entirely present, he listened – muffling something deeper when she poised some sentiment. “You have always been resilient,” at the very least – given the tragedies, the condemnations, the scores of maimed webs lying in her wake. The blood spilt, pooled, and hastened contorted to the back of his mind, and his piercing gaze narrowed, following a path lit by eerie presses along the horizon.

And he was happy; that he wouldn’t deny. In between all the chaotic semblances, goddesses disappearing, wars ending and Halo enduring, there was Evie and the serenity they were claiming, preserving, and saving for themselves. Love and devotion carved its wake carefully into his sentiments, and he was eternally grateful to have the chance again. “I am.” With a generous smile and half of an indulgent nod. “Well. I think we have most of it sorted. Middle of Flowerbirth. Small ceremony in the greenhouse.” Pausing, he shifted his shoulders. “We can have a bigger reception for everyone else.”

Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—

Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?

DEIMOS

The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display

Though she will never presume he will be happy with her decision to return to Sunjata, it's nice to be able to talk about the situation vaguely, to wear her happiness like oil upon her brow and not be shunned for it. Disagreeing with Deimos has always been a particularly difficult thing to experience. He means more to her than almost everything in the world after all.

His sincerity is appreciated, and it makes her glow a little from within, something more solid and confident than the mirthful angle she'd taken when saying the words herself. "Gods willing I will continue to be," she murmurs, letting it be both prayer and response. Though she attributes her successes and her resiliency to herself alone, faith has taken her farther than she has ever expected in her years.

Deimos' smile only makes her warmer, and if the sun were not sinking she'd be half-sick with fever by now from all these emotions paired with their desert backdrop. "A perfect middle ground of privacy and partying," she praises, smug that she will be present for both in ways few others will be. And - because she is both incorrigible and sincerely curious - she turns a raised brow his way. "Will you be considering children?" It's not her business per se, but if she is to have any nieces or nephews in the future she'd like to be prepared (and overeager).

This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides

Whoa, you let your feet run wild

Time has come as we all go down

Deimos had, and could once more, offered a multitude of reasons why Ru deserved far, far better than what she’d been granted in life, with her choice to follow down a familiar brambled and thorned path. He didn’t care about the litany of apologies from the Flood’s bowed head or all the promises likely nestled in between, how others seemingly turned a blind eye, how the past was the past. There were too many parallels and barbed scars and moments sewn into his mind to ever forgive the fool for breaking the Valkyrie’s heart; even if she offered it to the idiot again. The Sword had never been a creature of absolution or exonerations, reprieves or leniency; his mercy would’ve been carved into death knells.

But his brow arched, away from the melded nuances beginning their vicious streak through his skull, at her murmur. He wouldn’t want to give the gods the credit – not when Hotaru had managed with her people, and not on the whims and caprice of a deity, but he kept his mouth shut. A practice in withholding was an art he did well, tucking and scoring it behind his teeth for no other purpose but to shake his head, and then keep them going through the sand.

There were some dusty, inky patches nearby, and he might’ve advanced upon them or studied far more closely, had she not persisted in some manner of praise and inquiry. It broke him out of his musing and subtle mulishness, into widened eyes and an indignant snort. “Maybe,” he gave with a wrinkled nose and juvenile tactic, marking into coy reserves simply to be irritating and vexing. The signs had all been there when she’d toured the house anyway; conversations had and noted. Turning it back upon her, he mirrored the incorrigible antics. “Will you?” The horrendous thought of Sunjata reproducing (again) met with an inward snarl and grimace.

Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—

Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?

DEIMOS

The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display

Though she is the one to have distracted him, her eyes follow where his had been wandering, and she alters their course with easy strides across the sand. It is a different consistency, but quite similar to the sensation of walking on snow, something her body is quite accustomed to after dual lifetimes in the realms of snowy peaks and mountain ranges.

While she certainly would have been fine with any answer - it's not her life or relationship after all - she can't deny being ecstatic over the playful potential lurking in his 'maybe'. It prompts a peal of laughter from her lips that only Deimos and the sands can hear, unreserved and plentiful. "Well, I can't say I'm not excited about the prospect. You're my only chance at nieces and nephews." Bumping shoulders with him in an easy arcing sway that has her bouncing against him and rebounding to a proper stance, it simultaneously hides the slight lighthearted grimace as he aims the question right back at her.

It's not something she minds talking about, and she greatly respects his ability to hide his true emotions - a poker face perhaps even better than hers in that moment. But she owes him honesty, even if he might spew bile at the idea. "We've both been greatly hurt in the past regarding children." By your goddess no less, she bites back, utilizing her own poker face this time to keep her eternal anti-Safrin sentiment from spilling over. "But he is not against the idea, and neither am I. Though we've talked at length about how we would need proven stability, time, preparedness..." Ru gestures gracefully with one hand. Such to say that they would not be rushing anything, and for good reason. "And, of course, I would talk to Flora about it." Her daughter's input could entirely alter the course of the future after all. There is little Hotaru won't do for her, and respecting any potential desire for no further siblings is an option.

This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides

Whoa, you let your feet run wild

Time has come as we all go down

The sand shifted beneath his feet, and his muscles contorted in rapid form, content to manage the change and alteration in scenery. Her words prompted a chuckle and nothing more at first, always uncertain when it came to notions of things that sounded like they belonged to repose – and the precarious notions of where they all stood nowadays. Not with disappeared goddesses or weird plants, not with the hastening of warnings and the weight of other things tumbling over broad shoulders. But if not now – then when? Because there would always be something clawing its way to the surface, and time was a precious commodity no one could snag back –

Her words brought his attention back to the present, though he flicked his head upwards, gave a residual eyeroll in brotherly faction, listening to the recitation. His gaze narrowed, not at her specifically, because he could always find fault with Sunjata’s characterization and actions (it took two to decide, and neither Ru nor Nate had been included in those initial scruples, all for it to come tumbling down anyway), but at the way betrayal could bite and sway. Her own experiences with children – the pain, the trauma, the hurt – was not a ready-made invitation either, and Deimos had to wonder, if he were in her position, if she’d ever want to strive again.

He spun his way rapidly into silence though, at the words unsaid, at the lines bending and swaying, at the veracity and heart of the matter. Eventually, he found methods and modicums to say something other than the gnawing, slashing tirade yearning to ensue; he’d learned, somewhere in the midst of multiple lives, that his scorn and vendettas were not the same. “Does that mean you will be leaving?”

Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—

Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?

DEIMOS

The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display

She can only sense the slightest notions of dread from his side of the bond, and it's not an unrealistic fear in the least. She'd had the twins before the war, and had assumed Safrin's blessing would keep them safe - but they had aged regardless, and nothing she could have prepared for could have kept Enzo safe. But even with the loss of her son, she doesn't regret having had them, even if she wishes she could have changed how they were conceived and reared. Perhaps Deimos and Evie would come to have those realizations as well, the same way they were going ahead with their wedding despite the dangers and changes of the world around them. If it nets her cute babies to fawn over, she'll consider it a win.

His question is not unexpected. Deimos is far more astute than most others in her life; aware of her soul and scarcely discernible tells in a way nobody else is. Pausing in their trek, she turns to him, heterochromatic eyes searching his face for a long quiet moment. "Yes," she finally says, simple and soft. There is no point in explaining that it was not a decision made lightly or without plentiful hours - days - of consideration; he will know that. "Halo has not needed me in some time." She has held no formal council position, and while she'd been a valuable asset during the war, Halo was now the most advanced region in Caido and the most populated at that. "And while I have had need of her, it was to close myself away - uphold a banner and mission that Enzo never actually asked me to take up." The Academy had grown strong beneath her command, but there were so few left in the world, and other ways to dismantle Abandoned prejudice as made clear by Stormbreak's efforts.

"He wanted me to be happy, to live. And if the risk I am taking is wrong, then I know Halo will be there for me to return to - as will all of my loved ones." Deimos, Talyson, Alys, Sah. People she could still visit and see, because Sunjata could not do the same in reverse. A judgment she does not hold against Deimos, but which had weighed in on her decision all the same.

This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides

Whoa, you let your feet run wild

Time has come as we all go down

The finality sunk and clawed, the press of its weight on the burden of her voice as it all resounded. He’d known, and still, the truth hurt more than he could possibly quantify and understand in all those moments. The profound severing of ties, between rewritten history, things that bound and swayed, and the way it had been worded felt like a slap to his face. The first rumble followed, and it wouldn’t be the last, but he had to catch himself in places where the scars lacerated deeper than flesh. “It was to live as well,” maimed and cut, as if Halo had only been a reach to hide away, when at one point, it’d been the opposite –

We needed you didn’t receive a voice, because he wouldn’t be selfish and overbearing and a tyrant to all the things she’d craved – but perhaps what made it worse was that she kept running back to the one who’d maimed and scorched. Who she forgave for reasons he couldn’t possibly comprehend. A conversation they’d had before, and moments where his words had fallen on deaf ears, as if nothing perilous, horrendous, or heartbreaking had ever occurred. And he couldn’t bear her pain and torment for her when those instances struck again and again, but had stood amidst its threshold a thousand times as it bellowed and whipped and careened.

The Sword spun his way back into silence, head hanging, eyes flickering over columns of dust and sand, flora and fauna forgotten in that instant. Never quite certain what it meant to throw everything away, to twist and turn things back so it simply felt into one’s narrative whenever the wind drove a different direction.

Even then, there were some haunting measures of Rexanna doing the same thing – striking out with Tembovu, leaving the world of the Basin behind –

A long, slow breath filtered from his lungs, a conveyance and avoidance all at once. His feelings would be there in the air, regardless, not bothering to hide or shield the truth from his family. “I only want the best for you, Ru.” He didn’t think this was it, but what he said or did scarcely mattered.

Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—

Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?

DEIMOS

The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display

She can tell he has mistaken her words immediately, and winces just slightly. Leaving is already going to be painful, and the last thing she wants is for this to hurt any more than that, to be shrouded in confusion or misunderstanding. "It was," she reassures, "and I thrived in Halo for many years. Stayed even when Sunjata and Nate were in Torchline, because I couldn't bear to leave." It feels strange to say when they are out amidst the sand and dunes, when she wishes to spread her hands wide and gesture to all of Halo before them, spread her gratitude like droplets of rain across the tundra. "She gave me more than I could have dreamed when I first arrived; my home, my family. And over the years it only increased - more friends than I've ever had in my life, a safety net, a support network. Purpose with the Academy, when I had to keep going." Her love is unmistakable, almost ardent as each word rushes faster, spurred by the great welling of loyalty she has to what has come to be so much more than snow and stone. It makes the pause as she catches her breath and falls to her thoughts all the more poignant.

When she speaks again, it's with a softer tone. "Halo is...so much to me. But she gave me everything I could have wanted - and those things aren't bound by where I live. Not anymore." And she desperately wants him to understand that she finds that idea freeing. Knowing that she can move away and her family and friends will still come when she calls, still seek her out and help shoulder her burdens, even if she cannot call herself a Halovian anymore. As a child, she would have scoffed at the idea, because regional identity had made cloisters out of Helovia's terrain. Perhaps it's old age and becoming a boring soul, but Hotaru thinks maybe that kind of love - the loyal kind - was all she'd ever wanted, and not power like she'd always thought.

They have come so far in life, for him to not shield away his thoughts and feelings from her in the Bond. It prompts Ru to reach her hand for his, touching her fingertips to the side of his palm so he might decide if he will take it or not. "We will not always agree on what we think is best for me," she murmurs, because history has already proven it true. "But for the first time, I have a net to catch me that is wider than your hands alone." For those had been the only ones to rise from the flames to cradle her when she had lost everything in the blaze. "Now, I can try something new, and be certain with every bone in my body that if I fail - if I'm hurt again, as you so fear - that I will have an entire region of people to welcome me home and lift me back up." Hotaru's smile is an emotional thing, eyes a little glassy with old pain. "It's already happened once, right?" Because she wouldn't have survived the end of the war without all of Halo closing rank around her, helping her take each faltering step, breathing air into her lungs when she couldn't stand to breathe any longer.

With that kind of devotion burned forever into her brain, she can jump fearless and hopeful into this new chapter with Sunjata, knowing that even if she is not strong enough to withstand a fall from grace, Halo is. And they will carry her through it as repayment for all the times she has done the same for them.

This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides

Whoa, you let your feet run wild

Time has come as we all go down

Were he the same bitter Reaper, tied and knotted in his rancorous edges far more fiercely, the words pouring through his skull would’ve been different. Seething, malicious, all-consuming and direct, maiming over the ramparts of disappointment and betrayal, striving to see beyond the parallels of Rexanna and Tembovu, of worlds washed away, of his demise soon after – of caring and loving and it hardly meaning a thing to those he’d cherished.

But he was the Sword, and the only sentiments curling through him now were marked and closed-off melancholy. Not the bruising, overwhelming kind where one drowned in its despondency, but a heartache clustered around bones and souls, struggling to find definition and roots, the art of a phrase necessary and forgiving. And while she might not have meant it, he had to wonder if Halo had been just that – a balm and nothing more – where he poured his soul and strength and when they were hardy and stalwart enough, they left. Because she still chose Sunjata, over everyone, running the moment he deigned to give her the slightest bit of attention, despite every gods damned thing he'd ever done to her - and while there weren’t great heights to scale or territories to antagonize in the aftermath, and she could glide over where and when she was required -

It still wouldn’t be the same. There’d be a hole, an emptiness, a crater. She could pretend it was naught but it wasn’t for Deimos, who’d gone through it so many times and never once thought Hotaru would be the one to carry and brandish the same knife. But it stuck fast into his ribs, intangible but weighted just the same, his worth somehow reduced to a minor role in her contrived narrative, orchestrated so that she could find little bits and pieces to hold fast. Where was Sunjata when Enzo had passed? “Are you listening to yourself?” He began, a quiet rumble that chiseled at every poignant amount of pain she was pouring into the situation. “Halo, its people, your friends and allies, is just a safety net?” His jawline tensed, and he looked away, teeth snagging at too many wounds.

Perhaps the Flood had been aptly named, since he drowned everyone close to him, smothered, choked, made them churn in his tides until he was done with them. How Nate had been above all, and she'd been second fiddle, and even now, she surged with open arms, ignoring the way those around her had sacrificed and consoled her again and again and again. “I will always support your happiness, but not the way you step on everyone to get there.”

Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—

Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?

DEIMOS

The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display

Given the warmth that pools in her chest, Deimos' words are a cold knife that cuts her straight down her breastbone. She pauses in their trek, startled by his vehemence and equally uncertain of where it came from. "I never said they were just a safety net," she refutes, bewildered. Hotaru intends to explain more thoroughly - at least until the cut of his anger and injustice rips her sideways, leaving her bleeding out and recoiling from the wound.

"What?" Her voice is small and frail in a way she'd hate to have anyone else hear. The anger comes slow, a shield that rises too late - never accustomed to having to defend herself against him of all people. It does nothing to quell the hurt that pricks behind her eyes even as her face contorts into a useless snarl; theatrics that, like a cornered animal, tell him to stay away.

"What am I possibly taking away from them except my daily presence?" Her lips tremble, eyes glassy but narrowed with anger. She wants to believe this is a misunderstanding - but the use of the word everyone keeps echoing in her head. As if they hadn't always agreed that family was family and the rest could rot. "You are the one saying I’m using the people I love. As if leaving Halo would stop me from showing up if any of them were in need!" A sharp laugh cracks out of her chest. "Like you've been doing for Noah! Or is he different because it's Vi's fault and not Sunjata's?" The hiss of it is acidic between her teeth, breaths coming fast and short as she tries to make this a conversation and not a fight. Perhaps it's in vain - Hotaru has never known a different way to deal with her pain than to lash out. Because she knows that’s what this is all about - Sunjata. “If I can accept you banning him, you hating him, and still see you in a positive light - why can’t you do the same for me? Why does it have to suddenly turn into me using people?” He can think her choice is stupid, but with miscommunication abound, all she can hear is his condemnation in her ears, see him looking down on her instead of just her decisions.

This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides

Whoa, you let your feet run wild

Time has come as we all go down

It should’ve come as no surprise to him that for all his ice, her fire rose, and with it came all the misunderstandings, acrimony, and hurt. There were brief moments where he felt the familiar, primordial walls beginning to clamber and climb around his feet, through his limbs, along his chest, armored and steeled and forged for the vicious onslaught; and all because he’d dared to call her out on how she regarded the ones who loved her.

His jaw clenched and teeth bit down multiple courses of vitriol; head shaking, the depths of his piercing gaze landing on her, all the spewed vehemence, all the galvanized hostility. “That is not what I said,” but it’d already been taken down rubbled roads and tread paths, and he didn’t see a way out on this one – not now, not when they were so at odds with one another. “It is because of Sunjata that we are having this conversation. You choose to look past everything he has done to you, and others, and I do not.” Noah had naught to do with the notions, and so he didn’t bother addressing it. “I did not say you were taking away from them. I stated you are treating them as if they exist to comfort you, when Sunjata inevitably wrongs and hurts you.” Again, he wanted to add, but didn’t bother. The course of the contexts had been more than enough now.

She could hiss and spew and fight all she wanted – the point would still be made, and the die cast, and they’d have to settle on the line of transgressions buried in the sand. He was not a creature to forget; especially when it had affected a loved one, her, so deeply. “I have no reason to forgive him.”

The pain countered on both sides, and the Sword knew they’d drawn losses; too maimed, too marred, too many lacerations on both wounded ends to bother persisting. “We are not going to find any agreements today,” and he hefted his bag of holding higher along his shoulder, giving her one last look. “I can take it from here,” before advancing towards the plant they’d been seeking before multitudes came savagely undone; the beat of his pulse coursing through his spine. There might’ve been more words, but they’d been stretched thin in the shadows of the dusk; too bitterly laden.

{FIN}

Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—

Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?

DEIMOS