[se] skipping stones

If he was to be constantly given the same advice, and sometimes take it, then he’d bestow the same to his kin. That she is one of his moments of peace, serenity, repose, and love, goes unsaid, the quirk of his smile in return enough to give rise to that tranquility. Even if they were surrounded by multitudes of ghosts from all corners of the Grounds; from snippets of history that often felt like yesterday, to the hundreds of decades that came before them, Deimos would still choose it as a sanctuary, as long as it was with those cherished. A momentary haze from the calamity surrounding; from the wards pressing in.

His footfalls across the embankment were soft, given the saturated soil, and he maneuvered away from the edge to not give her opportunity to shove him in, or falter. Steps unfurled where his march honed structural melees though; the Mastered incantations cast to allow some stability as she followed along. “Interesting. I wonder if Frey brings the void creatures in too.” Or if they found themselves in there regardless, here to stir and cause chaos, draw and paint another rift.

The boyishness of his mischief cast along again, the pretenses remaining as his eyes flickered over the horizon, then back to her. “Oh, there was something else I wanted to tell you.” And he wouldn’t be able to predict her reaction – the uncertainty in the occasion leaving him with naught more than a juvenile tendency in hopes she found it just as wonderful. “Evie is pregnant.”

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

kiada

With the ghosts on the fringes and approaching curiously, the last thing on the harpy’s mind is to be a little shit and shove Deimos into the water. If anything, her eyes are trained on the blurred silhouette of a ghost, following the Sword’s footsteps while they continue to talk and the ghost seems to want to draw closer, a low whine of a sound radiating from it the closer they get.

“This one wasn’t brought in, so I’m not sure. I think it was just… Wild, out and about and flew into one.” One with no ceiling which had made it tricky to catch, but they had with the nets Kiada had brought.

The next subject, though, has all of her focus on the ghost retreating to stare at Deimos’ back, gasping a squeal of a sound that has the ghost flickering in its own surprise. “WHAT?” She asks, so loud in comparison to anything else, but so far the ghost hadn’t been aggressive, so she highly doubts it’ll be more so from the sounds she makes. “That’s amazing!” She grins up at him, pressing in to embrace him again, a multitude of questions falling from her lips, muffled by his shirt. “How far along is she? Do you have names picked out? Do you want a boy or a girl?”

stitch me into all your plans

The sounds of the ghost were intriguing and odd simultaneously; an alteration in all the other spirits shuffling through their makeshift voids. His eyes narrowed as they persisted through the drifting haze, studying it, before it seemed to hasten away for whatever reason. Maybe he should’ve been giving them more than just the respect of co-existence for the season; because there could be other filaments afoot again. And if that one was growing bolder, would the others?

He noted the implications of the void raven in the back of his mind, but then the rest of the duration and conversation turned into current familial statuses. He was relieved, to say the least, when her reaction wasn’t one of jealousy or irritation, but of loud, chaotic excitement, and he let her into his arms while the barrage of inquiries began, granting him a moment to roll his eyes and laugh alongside. A sharing of contentment, amongst and amidst the grave. “Probably looking at beginning of Deepfrost,” months away and closing in. “I have no preference other than a healthy one,” he admitted, tilting his head to look down at her. Years before he never even considered notions beyond Kiada. “No names yet. Why – do you have suggestions?” The arch of his brow and the depths of his grin ensured some other round of mischief – but he’d listen just the same.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

kiada

She might have had some amount of jealousy, had she been younger and had it been a similar event to when she’d found out her mother was pregnant yet ago after her and Kianzo had started to grow up. But that’s all in the past these days, and with it Kiada can’t help but to grin and share that excitement even if the ghosts try to surround them for some odd reason.

“That’s so soon!” She chimes, as if it weren’t already the start of Leafchange, how little she had means to prepare for the new child (provided she wanted to try and dust off her ability to create something for the child). But her head dips in understanding, wanting nothing more than the same given the recent turmoil that Caido seems to have started down the path of again.

As for names, she tilts her head, thinking while she zones out in a sense and peers out over the water toward that daring specter again. “There’s one that starts with an E that’s coming to mind but I can’t remember the rest of it…” She murmurs, starting to mouth out different names from that starting point as she racks her brain.

stitch me into all your plans

Deimos would’ve objected to the notions, because there was still another season to go, and a stretch of time in between to prepare – past the ones already well slated and obtained. He’d yet to settle into any semblance of panic over the occasion – not with everything else clambering around in distraction, merely reeling in contentment, compartmentalizing the events as they unfolded. Experience had taught him to separate the good and the bad, savoring the contentment and happiness, and strive to not let the chaotic embrace of everything else overshadow those pleasant and wondrous sentiments. “I have only told you and Ru so far,” he surmised, as if hinting to not let the secret unfurl any further; not until there were other clarities shared. One finger reached to bop her on the nose amidst insinuations and mischevious measures.

He could hear the wraith murmuring nearby again, but paid it no mind save for extending some air incantations – listening as it was forced to whirl away on a puff of mist. Intentions had been to listen, though he couldn’t help but shake his head at the suggestion, a light laugh rumbling through once more. “Just any E name then?” He could hear her murmuring, trying to fumble along the assortment, good-naturedly steering her away from the embankment again as they continued their walk beside the water. So his news didn’t dominate the conversation, he ventured in good merit and mirth, attention back on her. “How has it been working for Danta?”

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

kiada

Another small little shriek leaves her, one that the Harpy muffles so that the ghosts nearby don’t try to either investigate or depart from – not while they try to understand more of what exactly they want. So she beams up at him, snickering lightly as the hint is understood. And she even goes so far as to childishly mime the sealing of her lips.

At least until she’s thinking about baby names, something she’s never thought of for herself (a thought that somewhat terrified her, truth be told, unsure of what kind of mother she’d even be). “Ere….” She starts to hum, still mouthing off options until she can figure out what the fuck the name was when he guides her away from the water’s edge and away from those thoughts.

She’s sure it’ll come to her eventually, right?

“Good, so far. I annoy him and get through the letters and feed the terrible creatures we’ve collected.” She admits, huffing a soft laugh before she shakes her head. “Fox seemed surprised I even wanted to help out.” Though she gets this feeling that Danta likely pushes a few of Fox’s buttons at the best of times.

stitch me into all your plans

He'd take her miming with a roll of his eyes, but trust instilled too. He’d been immersed in wars and cataclysms for far too long to understand, to know, that a new child and an extension of family would be enough to present a dangling thread of a threat. There’d be no need for anyone to start unfurling it, piece by piece, unless they yearned to face his wrath, but still, he’d rather avoid it altogether.

He snagged at the name resounding further too, shaking his head and instilling it into webs of memory, or maybe names to glance and look up when he returned home. The water’s edge babbled on and so did the wraiths, though none were opting to close in for now, so he listened to the other prospects, though maybe his bark of laughter frightened them at her next round of statements. “Well, it has been a while since you wanted any involvement in politics.” Deimos wouldn’t blame her, often trying to avoid it himself, and being brought back into the fold regardless.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

kiada

She gives up on the name shortly after – figuring that it’ll come to her or it won’t. If nothing else, she supposes he has a starting point to go off of. Either way, the news was incredibly exciting for her and she can’t not let the glow of her happiness slip away from her face even when dealing with the ghosts that seem to continue to linger.

She follows him and hears his bark of laughter and she sighs very loudly and dramatically before snickering lightly to herself, shrugging lightly. “I had other motivations back then…” She admits, nose wrinkling slightly before she shakes her head. “Now I just want to help, I guess. Be a part of something again.” And that was reason enough, she supposes, even if Fox had said he had ways to keep her busy.

A comment she deftly keeps from the Sword.

stitch me into all your plans

He opted to persist in long strides along the fallen logs and the trifling brush, content to embark along the bank with her and not do much of anything except converse – save for watching the wraiths again. A pair seemed to venture near and then coast by; enshrouded and eclipsed in their own menagerie and ambitions. He studied them for an instant more, before turning his attention back to the Harpy, further amused at her snicker and shrug.

Other motivations indeed – her own set of phantoms to tackle – between offering herself to a false god in another world, and then nearly doing the same here upon resurrections. Kiada had proven herself wholly capable, but the results hadn’t always been swift or kind. Maybe these matters would settle more firmly for her, and he could grant her that hope with the lightest trace of his smile. “I am hoping to get the Noah matter settled soon, and then that may not be so overbearing for anyone either.”

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

kiada

The ghosts coming closer capture the harpy’s attention, her iceberg gaze focusing on them as if in a quiet dare even as she snickers and shrugs and continues. Her attention continues to linger on them as they drift past, until he catches her gaze again when his deep voice rumbles. “Please do.” She hums with another soft little laugh, sighing at the end before she runs a hand through her hair.

“The less of that kind of thing, the better for me.” She says as if she wasn’t entirely prepared to just go off on someone. She was more than capable and prepared, and if it meant the way she lived vastly improved, well, she’d do whatever it took to ensure it. But these are all things that Deimos doesn’t need her to say – already inherently familiar with her and what had happened that she only offers him a sweet smile, as if the underlying theme wasn’t that she did have some appreciation for bloodthirstiness.

stitch me into all your plans

“On that, we can agree.” His brow arched in her direction, with a sigh to match. They were similar in those ways: fully prepared to wage onslaughts when the time was necessary. The Forsaken was a different circumstance though, and hopefully the lecture had come through on a warning as well – none of them had the time or the patience to be dealing with Noah’s emotions and shortcomings when they were already legions of other things to navigate. While the demigod’s focus might’ve been on statures and limitations within the Grounds, the rest of the world had their sights lodged on the void creatures, the mysterious woman, and whatever else might become of the Starfall nonsense.

Shaking his head, he nearly made another comment, had he not heard loud wailing in the distance. Stopping his movement abruptly, his eyes scanned the horizon – finding the wraith nearby, curled and coiled near the embankment, openly sobbing. But he couldn’t remember a time where he’d heard them break through such veils and plains, and his gaze turned shrewd, narrowed, as he glanced over to Kiada.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

kiada

The benefit Kiada has is that she doesn’t live in the same region as the Forsaken anymore. And if anything, the things he’d said had affected the place she does live in – which to her would give her the right to yell at him if needed. But alas, it was before her, and she only hopes that perhaps there’s some realization that because someone’s a demigod doesn’t mean they can come and do whatever they want, wherever they want.

But all those thoughts start to vanish as the loud wail happens, and she follows behind him closer as he finds the wraith sobbing on the embankment. Confusion flares in her face and she peers around his side, looking at the creature with a hint of pity blooming in her chest, thinking the same. Her gaze meets Deimos’ and after a moment, she steps out from around him, heading toward the wraith while remaining to try to stay at a safe distance. “Is there something we can do to help?” She calls out to the specter, eyes focused intensely in case it tries to do anything.

stitch me into all your plans

Deimos would’ve wholeheartedly agreed with the bestowed sentiments, but the wailing was too much of a distraction now. Kiada calling out to it ensured his eyes were widened, and then he tracked the notions, to see if the wraith responded – rather than continuing to billow and wail.

She shifted, turned, and he caught the empty eye sockets, the semblance of nothingness shattering around her. It made too many memories of too many LongNights crackle down the length of his spine, and he drew beside Kiada instinctively. For all that he’d remained unbothered by the spirits before, they clutched at too many haunting barbs now.

But the ghost didn’t maneuver any further, the hollowed and poignant sounds drowning everything else out, until a whisper, a saddened hiss, punctured from her chest. ”I can’t find them! I can’t find them!” repeated in vague gestures, her hands searching in the grass for objects unseen.

deimos

Never let them drain the river of your soul

kiada

She’d be lying if she didn’t say she loosens a breath that’s been held tight in her chest as she looks down at the ghost, working her jaw for a moment as Deimos steps closer, the protectiveness a welcome sight even if they soon realize just how little they actually need it. The just in case was as important as ever, though, especially as the ghost whispers and searches through the grass and the Harpy’s brows pinches closer.

“What are you looking for?” She asks instead, casting a glance toward Deimos before she approaches a bit closer, trying to look around the closest area for anything of note that might be what the specter is looking for.

stitch me into all your plans