DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
His eyes roamed from the darkness of the well, and back to Darkeye, as words flew and thoughts were expressed. He may have muffled the tiniest of snorts or a range of laughter, keeping and trapping it inward as the vitriol flew, but couldn’t hide the smirk marking its way to his features. It was always satisfying to hear another’s vehemence lodged at Sunjata, even if it was followed by frustration by the man’s whims, mercurial efforts, and less than impressive pursuits. “One good idea does not erase all the other faults,” to which he shrugged – for the Flood had plenty, but as a demigod of Frey, he wasn’t surprised by the inclusion of a brothel. Deimos wouldn’t be going there anyway. “Accountability has never been his strong suit.”
Snagging at another rock, he flicked it once or twice along his Air magic, letting it maneuver unbidden, before tossing that one too – waiting for the inevitable. When nothing still echoed, his brows arched, but permitted other subject matters to linger. “I doubt you will have to worry about him much more anyway.”
Snagging at another rock, he flicked it once or twice along his Air magic, letting it maneuver unbidden, before tossing that one too – waiting for the inevitable. When nothing still echoed, his brows arched, but permitted other subject matters to linger. “I doubt you will have to worry about him much more anyway.”
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
