Chapter Text
“Momma?”
Windforce turns her attention over to her son. “What is it?”
Ban Hammer avoids her gaze, a rare occurrence. She raises an eyebrow before he asks, “Why does Venomshank wear that mask?”
She coughs in disbelief, letting her whiskers fly around in shock as she is thrown aback by the question. “Ban Hammer! Don’t you know that’s rude to ask?”
“Sorry momma,” he’s looking down nervously now, “but it’s just been on my mind recently. The inmates have been talking about this ‘feral behavior’ of his as well, and I can’t ask him directly.”
Windforce looks over to Firebrand’s vacancy, too busy trying to look after his own kid. She bites her lip, wishing that he were here to explain the story better.
“…While I’m glad that you asked me,” she starts, “you should have really asked him yourself.” Ban Hammer pouts, and Windforce ruffles his hair in the meantime.
Behind the scenes, she makes a reluctant call to Venomshank. Windforce is aware of the secretive nature of the demon, and although she usually gives no shits about the opinions of others, let alone the swords, she feels a need to ask.
The connection holds for a second, then two, then five, then ten. She’s offended at the slow response time before she gives up on waiting, deciding on how she should explain to her child that she isn’t always the most chaotic deity.
“Momma?” Ban Hammer nudges her lightly. “Are you okay?”
Windforce puts on a smile. “I’m always great, just thinking about my fellow… swords.” She drags out the word, foreign in her mouth.
She slams back her seat and stands straight up. The deity offers a hand to her son, offering, “Say, why don’t I tell you a story?”
Firebrand pesters her about this made up concept of property damage and why she needs to stop being a menace to mortals. First of all, why should she care, and second of all, she’s not even doing anything this time! Windforce considers tearing a roof off of one of those houses under his protection just to spite him.
“For the last time, I didn’t do anything in any desert!” she insists. “I don’t even understand why you care for these mortals anyway.” She tosses her gear in the air, catching it soon after before it crashes into the ground.
Her brother looks at her again. “Are you sure?”
“I’m going to be sure I create a typhoon if you keep asking.” Windforce throws her gear to his adjacent wall, her brother flinching. “Sorry.”
Firebrand finally stops his interrogation and Windforce finally has a brief respite.
“If you didn’t do it, then who did?”
“Why should I— wait.”
A pause hangs over them. “Someone’s beating me in the destructive department?” she questions. A gale flows around her as Firebrand places a hand on her armor. They look at each other with concern, not even needing to read the other’s thoughts.
“Should we ask the other swords?”
“We should ask the other swords.”
“How the FUCK is ‘Shankie doing that right now?” Windforce exclaims.
The deity in question, Venomshank, was currently scampering across the mortal’s market like a madman, biting every demon in sight. His usual toothy grin was stuck at every demon, while his eyes of all things looked… hungry? Furious, definitely, but hungry?
Firebrand and Venomshank were positioned on a nearby mountain, merely observing for now. “He’s not responding to any of our connections,” Firebrand comments. “What even triggered him to act like this?”
The entire time, Darkheart had also been running around behind him with unclear motives. They chased him through the settlement’s streets, not really doing anything to stop him but not necessarily adding to the ruckus. Was he the one who set him up? It doesn’t seem likely, but who knows what that trickster is up to half the time.
Venomshank suddenly turns around and faces Darkheart for the first time in their viewing. Windforce attempts to create a connection with Darkheart but gets interrupted by Firebrand, informing, “I already asked. They don’t know what’s going on either.”
“Why not?” She challenges him. “I thought the two were sworn brothers, or something.” Windforce plants her head in her arms, frankly bored of sitting around. “Am I using that right?”
He nods. “Yeah, that’s what they describe themselves as.”
“Nice.” She leans back on the rocks.
When they turn back to the confrontation, they discover that Illumina had suddenly appeared between the other deities, the former blocking Venomshank with his gear. The new player pins Venomshank down with his runes as Darkheart gets up from the ground and readjusts their comically massive hat of all things first. His mouth opens, probably yelling something poetic to the duelists.
Windforce makes a move to jump in but Firebrand stretches out his hand, holding her back. “Wait, something’s not right.”
“This isn’t him.”
Windforce identifies the interjection from Illumina’s voice, echoing in a way that could only be possible from him. If Illumina had to step in, things must really be getting serious.
Windforce summons her gear on standby. “So they’re really fighting.”
“It would seem so.” Firebrand replies, opting to do the same.
Illumina turns to Darkheart for a strange second, stance suggesting a long argument, as the siblings finally jump down from their peak to listen.
“…never leave us alone! We had it taken care of!”
“Clearly you didn’t.”
Windforce reveals herself to the bickering pair, Firebrand trailing behind. “What the hell are you guys doing?” she yells. The deities turn to them, Illumina with crossed arms and Darkheart with a furious stance.
“Disputing.” Illumina says.
“Yelling.” Darkheart contests.
Firebrand sighs and speaks up. “Now is not the time to be arguing, guys.” He gestures to the feral Venomshank. “One of ours is not acting like himself.”
“Maybe he would be back if someone here didn’t decide to butt his head in our business.” The venom drips off of Darkheart’s tongue. The runes around his arms flickered in and out.
“You did not have things under control!” Illumina’s wings flared up behind him, his eyes glowing brighter than usual. “Learn to step back for once!”
Throughout their argument, the deities somehow fail to realize that Illumina’s runes had disappeared, leaving Venomshank with the perfect opportunity to rush towards Illumina and clamp down on his very exposed wing. A deafening scream echoes through the desert.
“Something something, they still hate each other, something something, the end.”
Ban Hammer looks at her, horrified.
“Er, I mean, we took care of things and Venomshank wears the mask to prevent that from happening again.” Windforce clears her throat, painting a slightly better picture. If Venomshank wanted to object to her story, he should have answered her damn call already. It had been ringing the entire time, and she was mildly offended that they had grown so far apart that it would take this long to give a reply.
“…Huh.” Ban Hammer only emits. “Explains the wing, I guess.”
Windforce claps her hands together. “Well, now that I’ve shared, what about you? Got any stories about those… mortals, or something?”
Ban Hammer lights up, as if he had been waiting for an eternity. “I do!”
The demigod and deitiy continue to chat away, catching up as they usually do. Ban Hammer eventually finishes and asks to take care of things with this new faction of his, giving Windforce several goodbyes. She wishes that he could stay longer, but understands that this is important to her son, and eventually sends him back.
Windforce takes a seat against her chair. A voice finally answers her call.
“…What do you want?”
She hangs up.