fists-of-havoc

[fists-of-havoc]

Asmodeus could not recall the last time he felt such a presence as he approached upon her request, thin fingers slightly trembled at the thought of such an intimate suggestion but memory served as he had done before. “Do none of them hear you as I do? To feel your power and light as if you may be standing beside me?” He knelt before the tree, tradition served as cold rhythm, honoring her as he would have any of his other fallen brethren. There was no retraction this time, his fingers stayed the course and gently brushed against the bark, the sensation almost new to him. He didn’t know what else to do, yet an immense sadness fell over him as his hand came to caress the aged marks time had slowly given. How long with out the sensation of life; the Russian Tundra unforgiving.

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fireteam-daybreak-rp:

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fireteam-daybreak-rp:

It was difficult to watch him go, but such had become her life, and she had learned to cope with the loneliness. Hands slid out from under her until she was flat on her side, and her spirit suspended as she lay herself to rest, to recover, to meditate until she had recharged. 

In the days that followed, she kept herself busy but hadn’t forgotten about her late-night visitor, and how she hoped he’d return. Lazarus was quiet enough to keep her company during the day and keep her focused on their research, but once he retired for the evening, Rue was left to her own devices, something she wouldn’t have minded in life but detested in her half-life. And so in the hours between the time he left and when he arrived in the morning, her attention turned to some of the other, smaller windows, to the sapling of  Fjörgynn in the Iron Temple. She couldn’t see much of what was there, but it comforted her to know she hadn’t been forgotten in the evolution of life as she’d known it. It made the isolation more bearable, less cold and empty, to hear voices, to hear their gratitude. 

She often turned to the windows of her friends as she watched them in their downtime at the end of the day, often focusing on Dee’s mirror over others, as it was usually the “safest” to observe through. One of the things that had come about in her absence was Hayden’s relationship with Dee, something she had always seen coming, and she was glad to see her taking care of him in the wake of her death. Of all of Daybreak, Dee had taken her death the hardest, but he had also been with her from the beginning- during the collapse as they’d fled to deep space, in the Reef as Mara Sov attempted to unify the Awoken against those left behind, and the years that followed as they made their way back to Earth before their untimely deaths… then into their lives as Guardians. Dee had been her friend for so long, and he had had so few loving companions over the years, it warmed her heart to know that someone again loved him as he had loved so fierce; but there were times she also had to ignore his window (for obvious reasons), which she also frequently had to do for Addy, Nik, Laz, and Wylie’s. As much as she loved her friends, she had no interest in observing their overactive libidos at work.

But when she had finally run out of people-watching options, Rue returned to her meditations, which carried on strong throughout the night that night and the next, but by the third, she felt his familiar light permeate her aura’s range. She smiled quietly to herself as they entered, shifted a palm to rest on the window’s veil, and waited. 

It had been two days since Asmodeus had encountered the beloved astral voice of Rue; his head swam as sleep never came amongst the demand of his team mates and the desire to hide in the library was exactly what he needed right now as his Ghost excitedly danced around him. “Everyday in here is like Yol!” And he nodded in agreement as weary hand came to rub his eyes. He was too excited for sleep though he didn’t express that to her. He had been looking forward to speaking with Rue again ever since their first conversation; he kept replaying her words over and over again least he forget her voice. When they crossed the threshold of the entrance, Spooky bolted off, Asmodeus touting to her to mind her manners and to not snoop where she isn’t allowed.

“I hope you’ll forgive the delay… but I hadn’t forgotten you.” Honoring the dead was something deeply rooted in his heritage, and trying to make up for the improper introduction from the last time, he produced a small bouquet of wild flowers. “I know they aren’t much but…. I wanted to apologize, and to honor your spirit.” He approached the tree, looking up to it with a soft smile parting his lips as his hand came to rest on his chest.

Rue smiled warmly and soft lids fluttered. “There’s nothing to forgive,” she replied honestly, “But it’s nice to see you again, Asmodeus. Welcome back. To what do I-”

She cut herself off as he pulled something out of his robes. The flowers were blurry through the veil, she could hardly make out their shape until he laid them at Fjörgynn’s roots, but the moment they touched the bark she cold see them clearer than anything she’d seen through the veil. The gesture stole a soft breath from her and (were she flesh and blood) a soft blush that warmed her spirit. “Thank you for your tribute, it was very thoughtful…”

His face was clearer that day than it had been the last time he visited- clear enough to notice his shaven head and long beard. For a moment she wondered how old he was, out of curiosity. The heaviness in his voice told her of his heartbreaks, his loneliness, but it lacked the weariness of an old man spent on life; somewhere beneath the glum there was the youthful determination of a man not yet ready to give up on being accepted and loved. That reassured her. 

“Is there something I can help you with…? Something on your mind?” Rue knew why he had returned, but she wanted to know what he wanted, what she could do for him in her disembodied state. 

“It’s the least I could do for such an intrusion…and for Spooky poking about as she does.” Again, he mimicked his Ghost playfully, finger stabbing at the air as he squinted an eye. “But…. the other day… you caught me off guard…. not because you’re a tree goddess but….” He rubbed the back of his neck as he chuckled. “But you spoke to me…. more so replied in Norsk? Spooky is the only one I’ve ever known to have had that knowledge…. and it was a more welcome surprise that I’ve become accustomed to here recently…” He thought about how his life over the last six months had changed so suddenly, and for the better, but he wasn’t lying when he admitted that she had held one of the most meaningful. “I wanted to thank you for that… regardless of how…. insignificant it may seem.” He didn’t feel as nervous as he had the first night they spoke, but he was thankful she hadn’t turned him away, or even more so, kept quiet, and the weight he had so desperately tried to escape from earlier was now almost non existent.

“It’s alright,” she assured him as he started with the apologies. “You’re respectful of the space and everything in it. That’s all I ask.” But as he thanked her there was an extended pause before she smiled to herself, quiet and fond. “In my life before the Collapse, my family was dedicated to preserving the language and culture of our Ancestors,” she explained, realizing that she hadn’t told anyone that in a very long time. “So… it was a welcome surprise for me as well. Thank you.” 

For a moment Rue felt dizzy as she realized she had been speaking perhaps a little too much already. Being verbose was certainly within her limitations for now, but he had come back to her looking for conversation, and she would give him all she could. After a few minutes of refocusing her strength, she replied, again in Norsk. “(If it soothes you, I can continue to do so),” she offered, eyeing his silhouette through the fogged glass. “It comes as naturally to me as-” She was about to say “breathing” but cut herself off when she realized how inappropriate it sounded… then laughed quietly and finished her thought anyway. “Breathing.” How dark, she thought.

[fists-of-havoc]

Getting back into doing some Destiny Art! Got a lot more to finish and plan! Might be coming back from a Hiatus here as well! Thanks for sticking around!

I originally started this as an apology for sort of being MIA but honestly, @the-shadowsmiths you’re one of my best friends and I love you so fucking much. I wouldn’t be who I am without you or Kris. I really don’t know what else to say with out sounding like a blubbering idiot so…. here’s Maggie and Bennett. Because I love you like he loves butter.

“His Rose and Thorn.”

[fists-of-havoc]

"I know that....." She said softly, leaning into his kiss. "You make me feel like so much more than he did but it doesn't mean I still don't feel like I'm not strong enough for you sometimes." She was honest, but her voice was firm yet kind. "It isn't doubt in my abilities; more so than knowing the strength of our enemy." She smiled and held him tight for a moment before letting out  a soft sigh, questioning if she had really meant that. "You've gone through so much.... I just want you around for a while." Nik was almost everything she aspired to be; quick on his feet and just as lethal in any aspect of stealth and weaponry. He had taught her almost everything he knew in the ways of armament, which gave her advantage over many of her peers and even Uldren himself. But that self doubt plagued her more than the confidence in her abilities. But Nik was trying to change that for the better. "But you're absolutely right....." She kissed his chin in sweet reply as she tried to hold onto his words more than the echo that whispered in the back of her head.

Nik could see that she was lost, and he couldn’t blame her- they’d just been through a real ordeal, one that had left him scarred and hesitant the first time he’d experienced it. Seht was honestly handling it better than he had. 

One hand reached out and softly brushed fingertips over the side of her palm to ease her back and he forced a small smile as he gripped it tight. “Five minutes, no more… promise.”

—

The trip back into the land tank at least hadn’t been wasted- with a little time and effort, the encoding could be decrypted into useful information regarding Cabal frequencies and troop movements, as well as some information they’d collected on the Taken. The Vangaurd would get what they had been after, even if they’d ended up with more than they’d bargained for. 

As they prepared to leave, Nik reached out to help Seht into the ship but knew she was still haunted by what had happened. After closing the hatch and plotting a course, he sat back and sighed heavily, head rolling back over the headrest before turning completely around to peer back at her. He wasn’t sure what to say, but he knew what to do… Arms planted strong on either side of the seat and he pushed himself up and over the side to pop onto his feet and bend down to clear the low ceiling before he sat down beside her and reached for her hand, pulled her over to him. “Hey, cheer up… I’m still here,” he reminded her with a sheepish little grin as he turned her chin toward him, looked her right in the eye. 

[fists-of-havoc]

JP was almost like an overly affection cat; as soon as he could feel that ripple in Nik, he tried to calm him to the best of his abilities, the returned affection making the Ghost all the more trusting of their new friend. He had shared something so meaningful yet personal, and through Seht, JP could feel her heart break just as Nik's did. But the moment passed and Seht had him chuckling again, even with the thought of Wylie kicking his ass, and Seht smiled. "I think I've heard that name around the Tower before. Robs a bunch of eager men blind at cards every now and then if I recall correctly." She could hear Allanon in the back of her mind complaining about how a fellow Warlock could be SO GOOD at cards. ‘I could CHEAT and she’d still win!’ JP rocked with the Awokens’ touch, cooing in what was agreement for a moment before attention turned to the Alarm, and he almost groaned as he tore himself away to float back to the console.

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fireteam-daybreak-rp:

And there it was.

Nik froze as lips pulled tight and the corners of his mouth tugged into a frown; brows knit together to grimace and he shut his eyes as white knuckle grip tightened around his weapon until his arm quivered. It was bound to come up sooner or later, and he was honestly surprised J.P. had waited so long to bring it up. He was sure to have felt the absence of her light even if he couldn’t see it. Ghosts never missed the hollow echo in a Guardian left behind.

After an uncomfortably long moment of silence and faraway stares, he spoke in a hoarse voice, barely above a whisper, “Callie,” he started and cleared his throat as if to push back the pain. “Her name was Callie… she liked sunsets and flower crowns.” Eyelids parted to look down at the Prism Dancer pink of his arm plates, more a dark shade of mauve in the shadows cast by the pilot’s seat, and attempted a weak smile. “It’s not your fault little guy… but thank you for your sympathy.”

In response to Seht, he shook his head and swallowed the lump in his throat. “No… your candor is the first I’ve received in a very long time, and I appreciate it so… I may as well be frank.” Eyes turned up to her out of the corners of his lids, like stars burning through the abyss. At her next question, he nodded. 

“It was a gamble to come this way, but… without Callie,” his words hung but for a moment at the mention of her name, “I had no way to channel my light. I was a sitting duck, mortal- nothing to defend myself with other than my skills and whatever weapons I could scrap together. But, long story short,” Thumb reached up to brush the tip across his lower lip in idle thought, “I remembered something a friend of mine once said about the Awoken being naturally receptive of the Void and thought… well, if anyone could teach me how to channel that without my Ghost, it would be Mara Sov and the Tech Witches. So,” shoulders shrugged and he gestured with his hands as if to say here I am. “With a little help from a wayward Ghost, I was able to get an old Kestral up and running… took several years, but it paid off.” Nik paused for a moment, realizing… “I guess you could say I wasn’t completely alone, just-…” His voice trailed off and his gaze leveled to the wall across from him. “You know.”

“Of course… when this is all over and I’ve settled my debt to Mara, I need to get back to my old Fireteam. Let em’ know I’m not dead…” Half a chuckle rattled in his throat. “And try to survive my sister’s wrath.”

J.P. had shuffled himself close to Nik as he spoke, hanging on to his every word. Seht watched his movements, a dance of his resevations spilling out before her and her ghost. A secret she’d keep until he fufilled his last and more light hearted plan. Still, she felt a  pinge of…. guilt, sadness, regret almost as she watch J.P. try to consol Nik to the best of his ability. To go so long with out such a trusted companion made her heart heavy for him. He spoke her name so care-free, yet delicately, but the hurt…. the hurt showed. “She would have been honored to know you carry her so thoughtfully with you…” J.P. rested under Nik’s fingers, the cool touch of his metal against Nik’s palm warming as his eyelight closed in affection. “Thank you for sharing her.” This sentiment meant more to the Ghost than just his words; a fallen Ghost was a fallen friend, and something he wasn’t used to. He hurt… for her and for Nik. “You think your sister won’t go easy on you?” Seht smiled behind her hand as he admitted his fear, and their eyes locked as J.P. continued to roll in his hand.

His hand was tender as the Ghost burrowed under it, and Nik nearly lost his composure. The only Ghosts he’d had any interaction with since his supposed death had been anything but affectionate toward him, but not because they hadn’t liked him- it was because they weren’t his. Hands cupped around J.P.’s shell and he curled forward as he lifted him to meet his affectionate gesture with a soft forehead bump, and Nik tried his damnedest to hold back the tears as he shook and took in long, calm breaths. 

The change of topic helped a little, and as he spoke and stroked her ghost he felt himself calming down; their eyes met and he almost laughed, but grinned sheepishly instead. “Hell no, she’ll kick my ass, no question,” he replied without hesitation. “Wylie may be a Warlock but she’s a borderline Titan. Some of the fights she’s gotten into…” Nik popped his brows and shivered noticeably. “Let’s just say… I’m really gonna need to shade-step my way out of this one.” Knee bounced under the weapon in his lap in nervous habit as fingers traced the edges of J.P.’s shell. Nik really wasn’t kidding though, if he knew his sister well enough, she’d try to throw him off the damn tower before remembering his next death would be his last. He swallowed at the thought.

It was around that time the proximity alarm went off to tell them they were getting close. Nik’s eyes shifted from Seht to the console as he let J.P. float away from him to do his thing, and quickly pieced his rifle back together before slinging it back over his shoulder. Down to business, he thought to himself with a small sigh. 

[fists-of-havoc]

"I don't want to tax you more than I have.... the Void's connection.... between us falters from time to time, and the first time I never realized that our encounters may put a strain on you more than I want to admit, but I came to offer you service if you ever find need of it, even if it's for the aspect of company." He couldn't explain, but even in the absence, he'd think about her, and how their Void seemed to melt together so quickly in the time they spent with one another, and this surprised him as their time had been somewhat minimal. "Your compatriots.... they speak so very highly of your memory.... " He smiled sincerely, thinking to what he's heard. "You're missed by so many..."

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fireteam-daybreak-rp:

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It was difficult to watch him go, but such had become her life, and she had learned to cope with the loneliness. Hands slid out from under her until she was flat on her side, and her spirit suspended as she lay herself to rest, to recover, to meditate until she had recharged. 

In the days that followed, she kept herself busy but hadn’t forgotten about her late-night visitor, and how she hoped he’d return. Lazarus was quiet enough to keep her company during the day and keep her focused on their research, but once he retired for the evening, Rue was left to her own devices, something she wouldn’t have minded in life but detested in her half-life. And so in the hours between the time he left and when he arrived in the morning, her attention turned to some of the other, smaller windows, to the sapling of  Fjörgynn in the Iron Temple. She couldn’t see much of what was there, but it comforted her to know she hadn’t been forgotten in the evolution of life as she’d known it. It made the isolation more bearable, less cold and empty, to hear voices, to hear their gratitude. 

She often turned to the windows of her friends as she watched them in their downtime at the end of the day, often focusing on Dee’s mirror over others, as it was usually the “safest” to observe through. One of the things that had come about in her absence was Hayden’s relationship with Dee, something she had always seen coming, and she was glad to see her taking care of him in the wake of her death. Of all of Daybreak, Dee had taken her death the hardest, but he had also been with her from the beginning- during the collapse as they’d fled to deep space, in the Reef as Mara Sov attempted to unify the Awoken against those left behind, and the years that followed as they made their way back to Earth before their untimely deaths… then into their lives as Guardians. Dee had been her friend for so long, and he had had so few loving companions over the years, it warmed her heart to know that someone again loved him as he had loved so fierce; but there were times she also had to ignore his window (for obvious reasons), which she also frequently had to do for Addy, Nik, Laz, and Wylie’s. As much as she loved her friends, she had no interest in observing their overactive libidos at work.

But when she had finally run out of people-watching options, Rue returned to her meditations, which carried on strong throughout the night that night and the next, but by the third, she felt his familiar light permeate her aura’s range. She smiled quietly to herself as they entered, shifted a palm to rest on the window’s veil, and waited. 

It had been two days since Asmodeus had encountered the beloved astral voice of Rue; his head swam as sleep never came amongst the demand of his team mates and the desire to hide in the library was exactly what he needed right now as his Ghost excitedly danced around him. “Everyday in here is like Yol!” And he nodded in agreement as weary hand came to rub his eyes. He was too excited for sleep though he didn’t express that to her. He had been looking forward to speaking with Rue again ever since their first conversation; he kept replaying her words over and over again least he forget her voice. When they crossed the threshold of the entrance, Spooky bolted off, Asmodeus touting to her to mind her manners and to not snoop where she isn’t allowed.

“I hope you’ll forgive the delay… but I hadn’t forgotten you.” Honoring the dead was something deeply rooted in his heritage, and trying to make up for the improper introduction from the last time, he produced a small bouquet of wild flowers. “I know they aren’t much but…. I wanted to apologize, and to honor your spirit.” He approached the tree, looking up to it with a soft smile parting his lips as his hand came to rest on his chest.

Rue smiled warmly and soft lids fluttered. “There’s nothing to forgive,” she replied honestly, “But it’s nice to see you again, Asmodeus. Welcome back. To what do I-”

She cut herself off as he pulled something out of his robes. The flowers were blurry through the veil, she could hardly make out their shape until he laid them at Fjörgynn’s roots, but the moment they touched the bark she cold see them clearer than anything she’d seen through the veil. The gesture stole a soft breath from her and (were she flesh and blood) a soft blush that warmed her spirit. “Thank you for your tribute, it was very thoughtful…”

His face was clearer that day than it had been the last time he visited- clear enough to notice his shaven head and long beard. For a moment she wondered how old he was, out of curiosity. The heaviness in his voice told her of his heartbreaks, his loneliness, but it lacked the weariness of an old man spent on life; somewhere beneath the glum there was the youthful determination of a man not yet ready to give up on being accepted and loved. That reassured her. 

“Is there something I can help you with…? Something on your mind?” Rue knew why he had returned, but she wanted to know what he wanted, what she could do for him in her disembodied state. 

“It’s the least I could do for such an intrusion…and for Spooky poking about as she does.” Again, he mimicked his Ghost playfully, finger stabbing at the air as he squinted an eye. “But…. the other day… you caught me off guard…. not because you’re a tree goddess but….” He rubbed the back of his neck as he chuckled. “But you spoke to me…. more so replied in Norsk? Spooky is the only one I’ve ever known to have had that knowledge…. and it was a more welcome surprise that I’ve become accustomed to here recently…” He thought about how his life over the last six months had changed so suddenly, and for the better, but he wasn’t lying when he admitted that she had held one of the most meaningful. “I wanted to thank you for that… regardless of how…. insignificant it may seem.” He didn’t feel as nervous as he had the first night they spoke, but he was thankful she hadn’t turned him away, or even more so, kept quiet, and the weight he had so desperately tried to escape from earlier was now almost non existent.

“It’s alright,” she assured him as he started with the apologies. “You’re respectful of the space and everything in it. That’s all I ask.” But as he thanked her there was an extended pause before she smiled to herself, quiet and fond. “In my life before the Collapse, my family was dedicated to preserving the language and culture of our Ancestors,” she explained, realizing that she hadn’t told anyone that in a very long time. “So… it was a welcome surprise for me as well. Thank you.” 

For a moment Rue felt dizzy as she realized she had been speaking perhaps a little too much already. Being verbose was certainly within her limitations for now, but he had come back to her looking for conversation, and she would give him all she could. After a few minutes of refocusing her strength, she replied, again in Norsk. “(If it soothes you, I can continue to do so),” she offered, eyeing his silhouette through the fogged glass. “It comes as naturally to me as-” She was about to say “breathing�� but cut herself off when she realized how inappropriate it sounded… then laughed quietly and finished her thought anyway. “Breathing.” How dark, she thought.

[fists-of-havoc]

"It's the least I could do for such an intrusion...and for Spooky poking about as she does." Again, he mimicked his Ghost playfully, finger stabbing at the air as he squinted an eye. "But.... the other day... you caught me off gaurd.... not because you're a tree goddess but...." He rubbed the back of his neck as he chuckled. "But you spoke to me.... more so replied in Norsk? Spooky is the only one I've ever known to have had that knowledge.... and it was a more welcome surprise that I've become accustomed to here recently..." He thought about how his life over the last six months had changed so suddenly, and for the better, but he wasn't lying when he admitted that she had held one of the most meaningful. "I wanted to thank you for that... regardless of how.... insignificant it may seem." He didn't feel as nervous as he had the first night they spoke, but he was thankful she hadn't turned him away, or even more so, kept quiet, and the weight he had so desperately tried to escape from earlier was now almost non existent.

fists-of-havoc:

fireteam-daybreak-rp:

It was difficult to watch him go, but such had become her life, and she had learned to cope with the loneliness. Hands slid out from under her until she was flat on her side, and her spirit suspended as she lay herself to rest, to recover, to meditate until she had recharged. 

In the days that followed, she kept herself busy but hadn’t forgotten about her late-night visitor, and how she hoped he’d return. Lazarus was quiet enough to keep her company during the day and keep her focused on their research, but once he retired for the evening, Rue was left to her own devices, something she wouldn’t have minded in life but detested in her half-life. And so in the hours between the time he left and when he arrived in the morning, her attention turned to some of the other, smaller windows, to the sapling of  Fjörgynn in the Iron Temple. She couldn’t see much of what was there, but it comforted her to know she hadn’t been forgotten in the evolution of life as she’d known it. It made the isolation more bearable, less cold and empty, to hear voices, to hear their gratitude. 

She often turned to the windows of her friends as she watched them in their downtime at the end of the day, often focusing on Dee’s mirror over others, as it was usually the “safest” to observe through. One of the things that had come about in her absence was Hayden’s relationship with Dee, something she had always seen coming, and she was glad to see her taking care of him in the wake of her death. Of all of Daybreak, Dee had taken her death the hardest, but he had also been with her from the beginning- during the collapse as they’d fled to deep space, in the Reef as Mara Sov attempted to unify the Awoken against those left behind, and the years that followed as they made their way back to Earth before their untimely deaths… then into their lives as Guardians. Dee had been her friend for so long, and he had had so few loving companions over the years, it warmed her heart to know that someone again loved him as he had loved so fierce; but there were times she also had to ignore his window (for obvious reasons), which she also frequently had to do for Addy, Nik, Laz, and Wylie’s. As much as she loved her friends, she had no interest in observing their overactive libidos at work.

But when she had finally run out of people-watching options, Rue returned to her meditations, which carried on strong throughout the night that night and the next, but by the third, she felt his familiar light permeate her aura’s range. She smiled quietly to herself as they entered, shifted a palm to rest on the window’s veil, and waited. 

It had been two days since Asmodeus had encountered the beloved astral voice of Rue; his head swam as sleep never came amongst the demand of his team mates and the desire to hide in the library was exactly what he needed right now as his Ghost excitedly danced around him. “Everyday in here is like Yol!” And he nodded in agreement as weary hand came to rub his eyes. He was too excited for sleep though he didn’t express that to her. He had been looking forward to speaking with Rue again ever since their first conversation; he kept replaying her words over and over again least he forget her voice. When they crossed the threshold of the entrance, Spooky bolted off, Asmodeus touting to her to mind her manners and to not snoop where she isn’t allowed.

“I hope you’ll forgive the delay… but I hadn’t forgotten you.” Honoring the dead was something deeply rooted in his heritage, and trying to make up for the improper introduction from the last time, he produced a small bouquett of wild flowers. “I know they aren’t much but…. I wanted to apologize, and to honor your spirit.” He approached the tree, looking up to it with a soft smile parting his lips as his hand came to rest on his chest.

Rue smiled warmly and soft lids fluttered. “There’s nothing to forgive,” she replied honestly, “But it’s nice to see you again, Asmodeus. Welcome back. To what do I-”

She cut herself off as he pulled something out of his robes. The flowers were blurry through the veil, she could hardly make out their shape until he laid them at Fjörgynn’s roots, but the moment they touched the bark she cold see them clearer than anything she’d seen through the veil. The gesture stole a soft breath from her and (were she flesh and blood) a soft blush that warmed her spirit. “Thank you for your tribute, it was very thoughtful…”

His face was clearer that day than it had been the last time he visited- clear enough to notice his shaven head and long beard. For a moment she wondered how old he was, out of curiosity. The heaviness in his voice told her of his heartbreaks, his loneliness, but it lacked the weariness of an old man spent on life; somewhere beneath the glum there was the youthful determination of a man not yet ready to give up on being accepted and loved. That reassured her. 

“Is there something I can help you with…? Something on your mind?” Rue knew why he had returned, but she wanted to know what he wanted, what she could do for him in her disembodied state. 

[fists-of-havoc]

It had been two days since Asmodeus had encountered the beloved astral voice of Rue; his head swam as sleep never came amongst the demand of his team mates and the desire to hide in the library was exactly what he needed right now as his Ghost excitedly danced around him. "Everyday in here is like Yol!" And he nodded in agreement as weary hand came to rub his eyes. He was too excited for sleep though he didn’t express that to her. He had been looking forward to speaking with Rue again ever since their first conversation; he kept replaying her words over and over again least he forget her voice. When they crossed the threshold of the entrance, Spooky bolted off, Asmodeus touting to her to mind her manners and to not snoop where she isn't allowed.

"I hope you'll forgive the delay... but I hadn't forgotten you." Honoring the dead was something deep setted in his heritige, and trying to make up for the improper introduction from the last time, he produced a small boquet of wild flowers. "I know they aren't much but.... I wanted to apologize, and to honor your spirit." He approached the tree, looking up to it with a soft smile parting his lips as his hand came to rest on his chest.

fists-of-havoc:

fireteam-daybreak-rp:

fists-of-havoc:

fireteam-daybreak-rp:

Something was eating at him, she could feel it in his light. But for all her wisdom and astronomical power, his thoughts were a haze through the veil. In many ways it was a blessing, but it was also a curse. Rue liked being able to know peoples’ intentions without having to ask.

When he asked to know her name, Rue looked around… the books full of her research, the plants she’d tended to in her many years of life, the unfinished notes still scattered about as Laz had tried to make sense of everything, the alchemists’ workstation she used to synthesize herbs and materials into pharmaceuticals for her fireteam and for those in need in the city, the hammocks strung up in the trees and spirit bloom lanterns to nurture those who needed rest, the dead ghost shell in the corner of her old desk that spoke of her prior guardianship, the tables on small reading ledges to accommodate visitors, and most of all, the large wooden door, that always remained open, even when no one was there… Had he looked around and noticed these things, he would have known to whom he spoke, she wanted to say- but instead of being cryptic, she answered in plain speak.

“My name is Rue,” she answered back, “And this library has been my home since it’s construction almost two hundred years ago.” 

His face contorted for a moment in extreme confusion and looked back to the tree for some sort of instant relief that never came. “Rue….” His hand stroked again nervously at his beard as he tried to process everything. “But…” His breath his hitched as his voided eyes fell back to the tree once again and let his fingers come to touch the bark ever so gently. “From what Grant and Lazarus told me…. Rue… you’re…. gone?” He felt this overbearing sense of melancholy hit him as he retracted his fingers again and he shook his head. “You’re…. a spirit? No…” That wasn’t the right word and as he spoke it, it was almost offensive. There was an impulse to run, to try and free himself of the mistake of being such a burden but to leave his Ghost behind…. and to insult the woman to which spoke to him… “I’m sorry…. I sound like a mad man….” He wasn’t making sense to himself much less sense to anyone else who would have heard him ramble on as he tended to do.

Forehead wrinkled and lips drew tight as she watched his nervous antics, the anxiety in his voice, the sadness in his heart… and as he reached out she traced her fingers across the airy window to press against his hand in an attempt to comfort him. Rue’s light pressed hard and desperate against the confines of her reality, trying to let him know she was there, trying to reach him… for a moment as their hands met there was a spark beneath her palm and she jumped back in surprise as he did, a small sigh as she brought herself back into focus, tried again.

“You’re not wrong,” she replied as concise as she could, her tone conveying how tired she was. She was already doing so much better with how long she could carry on a conversation, but she was almost at her limit. 

“No, you aren’t…” she continued, wanting to make him understand, but she could not continue talking for now. Her grip on her connection to his realm was weakening. “It’s a long story… and I’d be glad to tell you…” she paused with a small sigh in her voice, “But my strength is fading fast. I can’t maintain this connection much longer.” She watched him carefully as he considered her words and waited until she knew he understood. “Come back another day, and I’ll do my best to explain. In the meantime, you’re welcome to stay-”

Head pulled back as she fell to her knees and barely managed to catch herself on her hand and elbow, and she breathed slow and steady as lids fluttered, light and exhausted. That had been enough conversation for one day.

Before he could say his good bye he could already feel the chill that surrounded him and the emptiness he had grown so accustomed to being in, and he let his hand rest back against the tree as he commited to taking her own permission to come back to such a holy place. Holy. That was the word he was trying to find; he had even expressed such a term when he first laid eyes on the tree, on Fjörgynn. That was what Laz called it. He was sure Allanon had mentioned it too… and when he looked back up to it, he took in deep the oxygen it emmited and closed his eyes. “Thank you….. Rue.” He closed his eyes and let his palm warm against the bark, losing sense of time and surroundings. It was only until the familiar chirp of his Ghost snapped him back out of his meditation. “What’s a Rue?” She spoke natively, as she always did and he shook his head. He outstretched his hand to her and she spun ever so slightly in question and he shook his head. “A Goddess.” He spoke softly and cradled her close to his chest as he turned to head out of the library. “Did you find what you were looking for?” “You bet! But I have so much to analyze so…. if you don’t mind bringing me back from time to time…?” “That won’t be a problem, I promise.”

It was difficult to watch him go, but such had become her life, and she had learned to cope with the loneliness. Hands slid out from under her until she was flat on her side, and her spirit suspended as she lay herself to rest, to recover, to meditate until she had recharged. 

In the days that followed, she kept herself busy but hadn’t forgotten about her late-night visitor, and how she hoped he’d return. Lazarus was quiet enough to keep her company during the day and keep her focused on their research, but once he retired for the evening, Rue was left to her own devices, something she wouldn’t have minded in life but detested in her half-life. And so in the hours between the time he left and when he arrived in the morning, her attention turned to some of the other, smaller windows, to the sapling of  Fjörgynn in the Iron Temple. She couldn’t see much of what was there, but it comforted her to know she hadn’t been forgotten in the evolution of life as she’d known it. It made the isolation more bearable, less cold and empty, to hear voices, to hear their gratitude. 

She often turned to the windows of her friends as she watched them in their downtime at the end of the day, often focusing on Dee’s mirror over others, as it was usually the “safest” to observe through. One of the things that had come about in her absence was Hayden’s relationship with Dee, something she had always seen coming, and she was glad to see her taking care of him in the wake of her death. Of all of Daybreak, Dee had taken her death the hardest, but he had also been with her from the beginning- during the collapse as they’d fled to deep space, in the Reef as Mara Sov attempted to unify the Awoken against those left behind, and the years that followed as they made their way back to Earth before their untimely deaths… then into their lives as Guardians. Dee had been her friend for so long, and he had had so few loving companions over the years, it warmed her heart to know that someone again loved him as he had loved so fierce; but there were times she also had to ignore his window (for obvious reasons), which she also frequently had to do for Addy, Nik, Laz, and Wylie’s. As much as she loved her friends, she had no interest in observing their overactive libidos at work.

But when she had finally run out of people-watching options, Rue returned to her meditations, which carried on strong throughout the night that night and the next, but by the third, she felt his familiar light permeate her aura’s range. She smiled quietly to herself as they entered, shifted a palm to rest on the window’s veil, and waited. 

[fists-of-havoc]

Before he could say his good bye he could already feel the chill that surrounded him and the emptiness he had grown so accustomed to being in, and he let his hand rest back against the tree as he commited to taking her own permission to come back to such a holy place. Holy. That was the word he was trying to find; he had even expressed such a term when he first laid eyes on the tree, on Fjörgynn. That was what Laz called it. He was sure Allanon had mentioned it too... and when he looked back up to it, he took in deep the oxygen it emmited and closed his eyes. "Thank you..... Rue." He closed his eyes and let his palm warm against the bark, losing sense of time and surroundings. It was only until the familiar chirp of his Ghost snapped him back out of his meditation. "What's a Rue?" She spoke natively, as she always did and he shook his head. He outstretched his hand to her and she spun ever so slightly in question and he shook his head. "A Goddess." He spoke softly and cradled her close to his chest as he turned to head out of the library. "Did you find what you were looking for?" "You bet! But I have so much to analyze so.... if you don't mind bringing me back from time to time...?" "That won't be a problem, I promise."

fists-of-havoc:

fireteam-daybreak-rp:

Something was eating at him, she could feel it in his light. But for all her wisdom and astronomical power, his thoughts were a haze through the veil. In many ways it was a blessing, but it was also a curse. Rue liked being able to know peoples’ intentions without having to ask.

When he asked to know her name, Rue looked around… the books full of her research, the plants she’d tended to in her many years of life, the unfinished notes still scattered about as Laz had tried to make sense of everything, the alchemists’ workstation she used to synthesize herbs and materials into pharmaceuticals for her fireteam and for those in need in the city, the hammocks strung up in the trees and spirit bloom lanterns to nurture those who needed rest, the dead ghost shell in the corner of her old desk that spoke of her prior guardianship, the tables on small reading ledges to accommodate visitors, and most of all, the large wooden door, that always remained open, even when no one was there… Had he looked around and noticed these things, he would have known to whom he spoke, she wanted to say- but instead of being cryptic, she answered in plain speak.

“My name is Rue,” she answered back, “And this library has been my home since it’s construction almost two hundred years ago.” 

His face contorted for a moment in extreme confusion and looked back to the tree for some sort of instant relief that never came. “Rue….” His hand stroked again nervously at his beard as he tried to process everything. “But…” His breath his hitched as his voided eyes fell back to the tree once again and let his fingers come to touch the bark ever so gently. “From what Grant and Lazarus told me…. Rue… you’re…. gone?” He felt this overbearing sense of melancholy hit him as he retracted his fingers again and he shook his head. “You’re…. a spirit? No…” That wasn’t the right word and as he spoke it, it was almost offensive. There was an impulse to run, to try and free himself of the mistake of being such a burden but to leave his Ghost behind…. and to insult the woman to which spoke to him… “I’m sorry…. I sound like a mad man….” He wasn’t making sense to himself much less sense to anyone else who would have heard him ramble on as he tended to do.

Forehead wrinkled and lips drew tight as she watched his nervous antics, the anxiety in his voice, the sadness in his heart… and as he reached out she traced her fingers across the airy window to press against his hand in an attempt to comfort him. Rue’s light pressed hard and desperate against the confines of her reality, trying to let him know she was there, trying to reach him… for a moment as their hands met there was a spark beneath her palm and she jumped back in surprise as he did, a small sigh as she brought herself back into focus, tried again.

“You’re not wrong,” she replied as concise as she could, her tone conveying how tired she was. She was already doing so much better with how long she could carry on a conversation, but she was almost at her limit. “No, you aren’t…” she continued, wanting to make him understand, but she could not continue talking for now. Her grip on her connection to his realm was fading fast. 

“It’s a long story… and I’d be glad to tell you…” she paused with a small sigh in her voice, “But my strength is fading fast. I can’t maintain this connection much longer.” She watched him carefully as he considered her words and waited until she knew he understood. “Come back another day, and I’ll do my best to explain. In the meantime, you’re welcome to stay-”

Head pulled back as she fell to her knees and barely managed to catch herself on her hand and elbow, and she breathed slow and steady as lids fluttered, light and exhausted. That had been enough conversation for one day.

[fists-of-havoc]

His face contorted for a moment in extreme confusion and looked back to the tree for some sort of instant relief that never came. "Rue...." His hand stroked again nervously at his beard as he tried to process everything. "But..." His breath his hitched as his voided eyes fell back to the tree once again and let his fingers come to touch the bark ever so gently. "From what Grant and Lazarus told me.... Rue... you're.... gone?" He felt this overbearing sense of melancholy hit him as he retracted his fingers again and he shook his head. "You're.... a spirit? No..." That wasn't the right word and as he spoke it, it was almost offensive. There was an impulse to run, to try and free himself of the mistake of being such a burden but to leave his Ghost behind.... and to insult the woman to which spoke to him... "I'm sorry.... I sound like a mad man...." He wasn't making sense to himself much less sense to anyone else who would have heard him ramble on as he tended to do.

fists-of-havoc:

fireteam-daybreak-rp:

He spoke so fast she didn’t have the time to reply before he was speeding off onto the next tangent. Having to remember every little stutter and word that bounced around the walls of her prison was too much. Other hand lifted to her temple and she pressed the ball of her palm into it with a groan at the endless echoing, though it carried over through the veil as a low humming and a soft shaking of the ground. 

“Calm yourself,” she started, and struggled to find the strength to finish the thought, “I’m not angry, just curious. Speak honestly.”

His second attempt was much easier to keep track of- as soon as he’d mentioned Grant and Al, Rue relaxed. As long as he wasn’t a complete stranger and someone had known he was going to be there… how she wished it had been easier for her to communicate with her friends from this place. They may have been able to avoid whatever mild stress they’d just encountered. 

Attention turned to the gentle tug of light as the spark flitted around the room excitedly and she frowned quietly as she remembered Socrates; his shell still sat on the corner of her workstation near the window and the garden, cracked and chipped, hollow and dead. 

After another pause to think, she replied, “No- a friend of a friend is a friend of mine. What can I help you with?”

There was a time before Asmodeus found the courage to speak again, the voice, albiet surrounding him, so distant. “Well….” His arms crossed in front of him and he turned back toward the tree. “Who….do I have the pleasure of speaking to? ” Surely by ‘Her library’ she had meant that it was her sacred place, not that she was the actual…. owner itself? And he scanned his mind for something he felt would have been usefuly that either Grant or Al could had droned on about but thought failed him as thoughtful hand came to stroke his chin. Spooky would have remembered. Spooky pretty much knew everything. Ever since coming back from the Cosmodrone, Asmodeus found himself constantly trying to recall and remember things; not so much as he forgot more so he was constantly surprised and caught unaware he simply lost train of thought. But her voice. Her voice tethered him to trying to search her out, to properly apologize.

Something was eating at him, she could feel it in his light. But for all her wisdom and astronomical power, his thoughts were a haze through the veil. In many ways it was a blessing, but it was also a curse. Rue liked being able to know peoples’ intentions without having to ask.

When he asked to know her name, Rue looked around… the books full of her research, the plants she’d tended to in her many years of life, the unfinished notes still scattered about as Laz had tried to make sense of everything, the alchemists’ workstation she used to synthesize herbs and materials into pharmaceuticals for her fireteam and for those in need in the city, the hammocks strung up in the trees and spirit bloom lanterns to nurture those who needed rest, the dead ghost shell in the corner of her old desk that spoke of her prior guardianship, the tables on small reading ledges to accommodate visitors, and most of all, the large wooden door, that always remained open, even when no one was there… Had he looked around and noticed these things, he would have known to whom he spoke, she wanted to say- but instead of being cryptic, she answered in plain speak.

“My name is Rue,” she answered back, “And this library has been my home since it’s construction almost two hundred years ago.” 

[fists-of-havoc]

There was a time before Asmodeus found the courage to speak again, the voice, albiet surrounding him, so distant. "Well...." His arms crossed in front of him and he turned back toward the tree. "Who....do I have the pleasure of speaking to? " Surely by 'Her library' she had meant that it was her sacred place, not that she was the actual.... owner itself? And he scanned his mind for something he felt would have been usefuly that either Grant or Al could had droned on about but thought failed him as thoughtful hand came to stroke his chin. Spooky would have remembered. Spooky pretty much knew everything. Ever since coming back from the Cosmodrone, Asmodeus found himself constantly trying to recall and remember things; not so much as he forgot more so he was constantly surprised and caught unaware he simply lost train of thought. But her voice. Her voice tethered him to trying to search her out, to properly apologize.

Rue’s spirit flared and her eyes opened wide at the sound of her mother tongue. It had been… gods, three hundred years since she’d heard it spoken aloud by another? It was a strange feeling, having the words knot up in the part of her spirit where there would have been a throat, and a shortness of breath without lungs. 

Eyes fixed on the stranger as he entered the room, a quiver in her light, anxious in a way that was both excited and nervous. She didn’t like strangers in her library when no one was around to protect her books, but they seemed… harmless. But when he set eyes on Fjörgynn she felt weak, exposed, as if he were looking right at her… and as he approached she almost withdrew until she saw the mood in his eyes change from solemn to content, to happy. The look on his face was reverent as he spoke of Yggdrasil and for a moment she felt the tears in her eyes. 

Did he just…? Allanon had sent him? She wondered why for a brief moment, but her mind was still stuck on the enshrined aura about him. No one had ever been so emotionally attached to Fjörgynn as she was. It would figure that someone who understood would show up only after she had died. Rue’s hand had already reached out to the window of the veil on instinct, and for a moment her heart skipped a beat as she felt his light nearly brush, but as he pulled away and called for his ghost, she reached for what light she could, grasped at one of the strands of light and poured all of her efforts into two words to get his attention. 

“Okie gå-” As the words crashed into him she released the thread to stop the ripple of her voice from projecting any further than just beyond her tower walls, and she held her breath as she waited for his response. When he was silent and still, she pressed her hand to the veil and tried again, focusing on his light, his void, that she had only known for a split second but wouldn’t soon forget. “Who are you…? What brought you here?”

[fists-of-havoc]

Even as he continued to look for the source, he heard the voice surround him, almost comforting as it returned after long pause. "Biblioteket ditt? I'm..... sorry!" He paused before trying to relocate his Ghost, hands nervously playing at the fabric of his robes. He bowed as he spoke, but to whom he bowed to he was unsure. "I meant no offense.... I... well.... Allanon.... Spooky... AHH." His hands came over his face as he tried to calm his own nerves and took a deep breath before fingers fell to his beard. "The Warlock, Allanon.... He and his friend Grant directed me here in hopes of.... research? My Ghost..... wherever she went," and he proceeded to let his hands flitter from his beard in a mock flight, "Was offered the chance to download some missing information..." His hand came back to the bridge of his nose before finally finding the ability to calm himself as he still continued to stumble over his words. "I can... try and find her if we're intruding.... miss...? " He had felt so rude to not ask for her name and he closed his eyes tight as his head swam in confusion. *YOUR library?*

Rue’s spirit flared and her eyes opened wide at the sound of her mother tongue. It had been… gods, three hundred years since she’d heard it spoken aloud by another? It was a strange feeling, having the words knot up in the part of her spirit where there would have been a throat, and a shortness of breath without lungs. 

Eyes fixed on the stranger as he entered the room, a quiver in her light, anxious in a way that was both excited and nervous. She didn’t like strangers in her library when no one was around to protect her books, but they seemed… harmless. But when he set eyes on Fjörgynn she felt weak, exposed, as if he were looking right at her… and as he approached she almost withdrew until she saw the mood in his eyes change from solemn to content, to happy. The look on his face was reverent as he spoke of Yggdrasil and for a moment she felt the tears in her eyes. 

Did he just…? Allanon had sent him? She wondered why for a brief moment, but her mind was still stuck on the enshrined aura about him. No one had ever been so emotionally attached to Fjörgynn as she was. It would figure that someone who understood would show up only after she had died. Rue’s hand had already reached out to the window of the veil on instinct, and for a moment her heart skipped a beat as she felt his light nearly brush, but as he pulled away and called for his ghost, she reached for what light she could, grasped at one of the strands of light and poured all of her efforts into two words to get his attention. 

“Okie gå-” As the words crashed into him she released the thread to stop the ripple of her voice from projecting any further than just beyond her tower walls, and she held her breath as she waited for his response. When he was silent and still, she pressed her hand to the veil and tried again, focusing on his light, his void, that she had only known for a split second but wouldn’t soon forget. “Who are you…? What brought you here?”

[fists-of-havoc]

There was a fright that crawled acrossed him as he spun, trying to find the source of the voice that nearly crashed into him. "Odin's beard..." He had never expected some one else to answer...he exhaled softly and back in as quickly as he turned back to the tree. "As.... Asmo-modeus is my name," Voice failed him as fingers nervously returned to his sleeve as his free hand cupped about his ear in strain. "I... I... I am friend..." Was he just if he had known who he was speaking with; Allanon had mentioned there maybe casual soul to  come across here, but the night had been so late as it were, he was sure the only other to be awake would have been Bennett. He turned softly this time, a longer, deeper breath through his nose as heavy eyes questioned unfamilar territory.

@fists-of-havoc

It had been an uneventful afternoon. As he usually did, Lazarus had started his research early in the morning after a quick run and several sets of push-ups and sit-ups and… whatever it was he and Wylie ran off to do several times throughout the day. Rue had spent most of the day in meditation, resting her mind and calming her Void so that she may easier communicate across the veil. It was still difficult to maintain a reliable connection but her control was improving every day. Occasionally he would speak to her in what she knew to be rhetoric, so she saved her strength for the questions that really needed answering, and that day there hadn’t been many. 

It had been six months since her spirit had departed the mortal plane and she was still growing used to being powerless to help her friends when they needed her. For too long she had watched Addy and Laz cry when nobody was around to see. For too long she had witnessed Dee bringing Ghost after Ghost back to her tree with hope in his heart because he could still feel her light. But her heart had ached hard enough that they had begun to hear her intermittently, and that was enough give them the strength to get through the day, knowing that while she wasn’t with them she was still there. And that, in turn, had made her more diligent in her quest to understand how any of this was even possible. Light was known to do some strange things, but this… this was unheard of. 

In everyone and everything she had touched with her healing hands, wove her light like a web, confining her to its greatest concentration and echoing back to her through each thin strand. When she had realized this, Rue had started with plucking softly at these strings to see if she could speak through them, and she could. This was how she’d made contact with Lazarus the first time; however, she had to do so very carefully, so as to not tear the delicate thread. Her second experiment with the light threads had led her to some surprisingly spooky results. Rue discovered that pinching the thread while speaking would throw her voice, sending it speeding across all threads simultaneously, like an echo across time and space. And it had reached many, many Guardians, including Mistress Ikora, who had become spooked at the ethereal warble that barely resembled her voice. While it wasn’t something she would use often, it was good to know the option to quickly broadcast a message was there. 

It had taken her several months to realize it, but more aware she became of her surroundings, the clearer she was able to see through the windows between the threads. Each corresponded to a location where her light remained, some stationary, some mobile- the tree grown from a cutting of Fjörgynn at Felwinter Peak, the tree in her Library, her garden, friends like Laz and Wylie and Dee (Dee’s window was quite large, much like the windows of her tree and garden) she saw through their eyes. But these windows made it much safer to communicate- a soft palm against the barrier was enough to open the channel to project her voice into their realm. It hadn’t been easy, but over the course of a few weeks, she was speaking twice as frequently as she had been before. 

Rue saw the sadness begin to lift the more often they came to speak with her, and she was relieved. The realization that she could help even in death fueled her resolve to make herself whole again, as Lazarus had suggested. At first the idea seemed so far away, but now… Rue almost felt as though she could reach through the veil. That was her next goal- astral projection. If she could do it with her voice, she could certainly find a way to do it with her form. And so she meditated, ceaselessly, honing her already discovered ability while she attempted to push through the barrier even if just temporarily. 

But that night, her meditation was interrupted.

Void eyes opened to gaze through the windows to her Library as an unfamiliar light edged toward the boundaries of her web… a Warlock she’d never known, and he seemed like a nervous wreck. She could feel the tension and the sadness in him that radiated through his void. Rue frowned sympathetically but waited to see what the stranger would do.

[fists-of-havoc]

"He said it should have been around here!" There was a relief to the Norwegian speaking Ghosts' words as the Warlock came around to find the entrance of the Library; a safe haven for many of the company Fireteams and their members, providing information and a place to hide away from the often times busy main tower. Asmodeus smiled weakly, the wear and tear of the last six months bearing down on him like a heavy stone. He wanted sleep. He wanted a friend. He wanted to be alone. He wanted a hug. He could feel a seed of dispair eat away in the inner most part of his stomach as a hand came over his tired eyes. "Spøkelse," He said softly. "I promise I won't too long!" She said softly and excitedly, but his hand came to cradle her for a moment and he pulled her back. "I'm NOT rushing you. You take as long as you need, forstå?" He opened the door and with a quick snuggle she thanked him and buzzed from his finger tips, getting lost to the dark and quiet that surrounded them. His hand came to comb over his bald head and trace through his beard as the first thing to grab his attention was the tree that nearly gave life to this place. He thumbed his lip as void lit eyes surveyed over every detail and he couldn't help but smile. "The Yggdrasil of the modern world." There was a satisfaction in seeing it he couldn't explain; how anyone was able to make a tree thrive as this one did in an abandoned Tower was enough to grant him the curiosity of further inspection. "Did Allanon mention anything about this tree?" When he approached, hand outstretched to it before suddenly pulling back, thinking about how impolite it must have seemed. "Spøkelse?" He turned, yet there again was no reply. (*her name translates to Ghost- *forstå- understand?)

@fists-of-havoc

It had been an uneventful afternoon. As he usually did, Lazarus had started his research early in the morning after a quick run and several sets of push-ups and sit-ups and… whatever it was he and Wylie ran off to do several times throughout the day. Rue had spent most of the day in meditation, resting her mind and calming her Void so that she may easier communicate across the veil. It was still difficult to maintain a reliable connection but her control was improving every day. Occasionally he would speak to her in what she knew to be rhetoric, so she saved her strength for the questions that really needed answering, and that day there hadn’t been many. 

It had been six months since her spirit had departed the mortal plane and she was still growing used to being powerless to help her friends when they needed her. For too long she had watched Addy and Laz cry when nobody was around to see. For too long she had witnessed Dee bringing Ghost after Ghost back to her tree with hope in his heart because he could still feel her light. But her heart had ached hard enough that they had begun to hear her intermittently, and that was enough give them the strength to get through the day, knowing that while she wasn’t with them she was still there. And that, in turn, had made her more diligent in her quest to understand how any of this was even possible. Light was known to do some strange things, but this… this was unheard of. 

In everyone and everything she had touched with her healing hands, wove her light like a web, confining her to its greatest concentration and echoing back to her through each thin strand. When she had realized this, Rue had started with plucking softly at these strings to see if she could speak through them, and she could. This was how she’d made contact with Lazarus the first time; however, she had to do so very carefully, so as to not tear the delicate thread. Her second experiment with the light threads had led her to some surprisingly spooky results. Rue discovered that pinching the thread while speaking would throw her voice, sending it speeding across all threads simultaneously, like an echo across time and space. And it had reached many, many Guardians, including Mistress Ikora, who had become spooked at the ethereal warble that barely resembled her voice. While it wasn’t something she would use often, it was good to know the option to quickly broadcast a message was there. 

It had taken her several months to realize it, but more aware she became of her surroundings, the clearer she was able to see through the windows between the threads. Each corresponded to a location where her light remained, some stationary, some mobile- the tree grown from a cutting of Fjyornn at Felwinter Peak, the tree in her Library, her garden, friends like Laz and Wylie and Dee (Dee’s window was quite large, much like the windows of her tree and garden) she saw through their eyes. But these windows made it much safer to communicate- a soft palm against the barrier was enough to open the channel to project her voice into their realm. It hadn’t been easy, but over the course of a few weeks, she was speaking twice as frequently as she had been before. 

Rue saw the sadness begin to lift the more often they came to speak with her, and she was relieved. The realization that she could help even in death fueled her resolve to make herself whole again, as Lazarus had suggested. At first the idea seemed so far away, but now… Rue almost felt as though she could reach through the veil. That was her next goal- astral projection. If she could do it with her voice, she could certainly find a way to do it with her form. And so she meditated, ceaselessly, honing her already discovered ability while she attempted to push through the barrier even if just temporarily. 

But that night, her meditation was interrupted.

Void eyes opened to gaze through the windows to her Library as an unfamiliar light edged toward the boundaries of her web… a Warlock she’d never known, and he seemed like a nervous wreck. She could feel the tension and the sadness in him that radiated through his void. Rue frowned sympathetically but waited to see what the stranger would do.

[fists-of-havoc]

ਤੁਨਕ ਤੁਨਕ ਤੁਨ ਤੁਨਕ ਤੁਨਕ ਤੁਨ ਤੁਨਕ ਤੁਨਕ ਤੁਨ ਦਾ ਦਾ ਦਾ

*dances*

[fists-of-havoc]

J.P. had shuffled himself close to Nik as he spoke, hanging on to his every word. Seht watched his movements, a dance of his resevations spilling out before her and her ghost. A secret she'd keep until he fufilled his last and more light hearted plan. Still, she felt a  pinge of.... guilt, sadness, regret almost as she watch J.P. try to consol Nik to the best of his ability. To go so long with out such a trusted companion made her heart heavy for him. He spoke her name so care-free, yet delicately, but the hurt.... the hurt showed. "She would have been honored to know you carry her so thoughtfully with you..." J.P. rested under Nik’s fingers, the cool touch of his metal against Nik's palm warming as his eyelight closed in affection. "Thank you for sharing her." This sentiment meant more to the Ghost than just his words; a fallen Ghost was a fallen friend, and something he wasn't used to. He hurt... for her and for Nik. "You think your sister won't go easy on you?" Seht smiled behind her hand as he admitted his fear, and their eyes locked as J.P. continued to roll in his hand.

Fingers traced idly over the side of the pilot seat and he shrugged and shook his head with a downcast glance. As proud as he was of his accomplishments, he didn’t want to think about how he’d had to do it without Callie. 

“The Gap was hell,” he admitted after a long pause, “And I was on my own for eight years outside the wall before I made it to the Reef, so… no… it wasn’t.” Fingers gripped tight over the back of her seat before he paced away, crumpled up the wrapper of the protien bar he’d been snacking on and stuffed it into one of his pockets. He was quite ready to change the subject now. 

As he often did when he needed to clear his mind, Nik sat down and pulled out his rifle and began to break it down to examine it for signs of carbon buildup. He hadn’t exactly had time to clean the thing when he’d been struggling to keep Joan alive and rushing her back to the Reef, or anytime after that. Nik motioned to J.P. to come and give him a little light so he could see better, and eyed her as he did with a slight twinge of guilt. She’d been the first in a long time to genuinely ask about his survival , and he’d nearly brushed her off. Eyes softened and he sighed quietly, leaned back against the wall and glanced over at her. 

“I’m sorry… I know it might seem amazing that I survived so much but-” he hesitated for a brief moment, eyes drifting to the floor before elaborating. “… I lost a lot too… more than I thought I ever could.” Fingers gripped tight around the barrell in his hand. There was so much more hidden behind his stormy amber eyes that begged to be told, begged for the opportunity to trust someone enough that he could tell it all. “And every day since has been an honest-to-god miracle for me to have made it this long… and I really don’t know how I keep doing it. All I know is, I just can’t die yet.”

[fists-of-havoc]

She was afraid she wasn't strong enough, valiant enough, brave enough, to give him what he deserved and she tried so hard to keep that from showing. He spoke to her and she smiled, leaning into him as she nodded to reassure herself. He had kept his promise. He was always good at keeping his promises. "I know you are...." She tried to not let her words trail off as they did, but she was still so unsure; unnerved at the fact that she seemed helpless to him in such a plight. "I want to be able to protect you..." And she laughed as she heard herself. "Not that you need my help..." She admitted but stood strong as her fingers laced with his. "I want to make sure I can be strong for the both of us, if something like that were to ever happen again....." She couldn't lose him. Not like that. "Nik...." She kissed the back of his hand as her eyes closed, taking a deep breath slowly and softly in.

@fists-of-havoc

Charging headlong into situations where death was almost certain hadn’t been a habit of his since he’d lost his link to immortality (because why should he have risked permanent death for the sake of the Awoken?), but for Seht, for Wylie, for any of his loved ones… he would charge the gates of hell without a second thought. And today he had; the sheer volume of luck –or maybe just a warrior’s intuition or a hunter’s confidence— involved in his survival since he’d lost Callie astounded him at times. He’d been careless this time, and he knew it, but there was no point arguing about whose fault it was. They were both fine.

Seht had expressed her insecurities of feeling undeserving of him before, so this was nothing new. Hand stroked softly at the back of her head and neck and he leaned his temple into the side of her head. “You are, and you don’t have to worry about that, I’m not going anywhere…” Even if he couldn’t predict the future, he could sure as hell try to live up to that promise and help her not worry in the meantime.

After another few moments of silence, once they had both settled down, Nik sat up with a grimace and a groan and lifted a hand to dig a thumb into the pain in his shoulder; must have hit the ground pretty hard when he passed out. He’d have to visit Rue when they made it back to the tower. Nik turned his attention back to J.P.- with the Taken cleared and the source of the Blight destroyed, it was safe to dig again. It was a golden opportunity they couldn’t let go to waste. 

Instead of leaving, Nik turned back into the base with a sly grin. “Hey J.P… you wanted a little extra time with those files, right…?” The question was more observational rhetoric than inquiry. 

[fists-of-havoc]

Maggie shifted as she looked back to Link, who took then hint in a more casual form and nodded happily as he also dematted out of sight. "Betta to be safe than sorry, yeah?"  She smiled before donning her helmet. She threw one arm around him as the other adjusted her sidearm, keeping it close for any Fallen which may have been tempted enough to jump out at them . "He seems nice..." Link whispered and she smiled. "Three clicks Northeast?" She brought her other arm around him and held him close, restless legs squeezing him somewhat uncomfortably as she leaned forward. Sure, any woman would have fainted at this idea, but even in her discomfort, she felt a familiarity, at ease in being so close. Her mind raced as the signals of the distanced targets popped up in the perirphry in her helmet. "You gonna be ok?" Her Ghost asked quietly and she sniffled softly. "Yeah, I will be."

He watched her face carefully as she rolled her answer around… and when she decided, brows knitted together in adoration at her surprise, and for the first time in a long time, Bennett smiled- quiet, fond, and content. 

A hand lifted to cup over her cheek and brush across her face to trace over her ear and thumb at her hair. “Oh… I ain’t lettin’ ya outta my sight eva again,” he said with a big grin that wrinkled the corners of his tired, olive eyes, squeezed her hand with his other. He only let go to turn to his ghost and ask for his sparrow, but her last question made him laugh. “Ah… this ain’t the military, sheila. Th’Vanguard’s a volunteer army… they can’t regulate shit like that, they juss’ take what they kin get.” 

For a moment he paused, realizing that he didn’t know how long it had been since she’d been resurrected, and suddenly he found himself wondering how much she’d heard of him, if anything. Bennett’s heart sank heavy with shame at the thought of what she might say when she learned of how he’d abandoned the Vanguard and the Shadowsmiths after the Gap. If he’d known he was going to see her again… things would have been much different. But that was a topic for another day.

Bennett swallowed as he pushed back the guilt, threw a leg over his sparrow and shifted until he was comfortable, pulled up the hood of his cloak and a bandanna up around his nose and mouth as he turned and looked her over again as if she were just a ghost. He still couldn’t believe his eyes. 

Hand reached out in an open gesture, inviting her to share with him; it wouldn’t have been the first time she’d ridden passenger to him on a small, dangerous, fast-moving vehicle.