DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
Deimos knew every intricate foundation of vengeance – how it pooled and collected, stained and marred, and still permitted himself to be led into its trenches every so often. By pettiness, by grudges, by yearning to cause another the same pain felt by so many others wronged and diminished. But he was of the mind now that Sunjata’s very listless existence was exactly what the Flood deserved. He listened to Darkeye regardless, for the cleric had been manipulated by the demigod too, and he exhaled a long, slow breath, before his eyes ceased considering the well.
No, he wouldn’t be actively seeking Sunjata to toss him into something endless and unknown, even if it was amusing at the time. The Sword had far too many others to look out for. Altering the subject, his brow arched slightly. “And what will you do in the meantime?” Preside amongst the Grounds, he presumed, but there had to be other endeavors.
No, he wouldn’t be actively seeking Sunjata to toss him into something endless and unknown, even if it was amusing at the time. The Sword had far too many others to look out for. Altering the subject, his brow arched slightly. “And what will you do in the meantime?” Preside amongst the Grounds, he presumed, but there had to be other endeavors.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
