DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
A rugged smile appeared, albeit briefly, at Noah’s statement. Protection, shields, safeguards, champions of a world, of a people – he could comprehend it with absolute certainty. They needed more and more like the hunter, like the Sword, for when the world inexplicably came crashing down around them. He’d just never thought it would be against their own leader.
The alteration in the air changed though, as Deimos predicted – shifting into apprehension, into trepidation, into the way voids shuddered and peaked, granting access to information they’d never been aware of. Not until now; when it sunk in low upon shoulders, when it pressed in on spines, when it gained and soared into clarity. Sharp and brutal, keen and blunt. No, he started, jaw clenching, grateful for the Attuned bond now more than ever; a stalwart munition galvanized in his chest, striving to pierce through all the other alarms. She and Neron are together. A disturbing notion, considering what he'd done to Halo in his own time of sovereignty.
And what individual wouldn’t attempt to save their loved ones? But unfortunately, the Ascended belonged to the Voice. Would Morgan turn in aid when neutrality no longer suited? Would the rest of those who didn’t pledge themselves to the goddess, of disease and monsters, be in harm’s way? How many times did they have to say the Voice wasn’t worth trusting? She used me as a placeholder while she went to protect them during LongNight. So she could maintain power, knowing full well he wouldn’t want it (and here it struck him, how easily, how quietly, he could’ve just kept it and the issues could’ve disappeared; a rancorous edge touched his ribs). A spirit once challenged her to make a choice, over the old or new gods. She declined to answer, and now they hate her.
He’d let that all simmer for now.
The alteration in the air changed though, as Deimos predicted – shifting into apprehension, into trepidation, into the way voids shuddered and peaked, granting access to information they’d never been aware of. Not until now; when it sunk in low upon shoulders, when it pressed in on spines, when it gained and soared into clarity. Sharp and brutal, keen and blunt. No, he started, jaw clenching, grateful for the Attuned bond now more than ever; a stalwart munition galvanized in his chest, striving to pierce through all the other alarms. She and Neron are together. A disturbing notion, considering what he'd done to Halo in his own time of sovereignty.
And what individual wouldn’t attempt to save their loved ones? But unfortunately, the Ascended belonged to the Voice. Would Morgan turn in aid when neutrality no longer suited? Would the rest of those who didn’t pledge themselves to the goddess, of disease and monsters, be in harm’s way? How many times did they have to say the Voice wasn’t worth trusting? She used me as a placeholder while she went to protect them during LongNight. So she could maintain power, knowing full well he wouldn’t want it (and here it struck him, how easily, how quietly, he could’ve just kept it and the issues could’ve disappeared; a rancorous edge touched his ribs). A spirit once challenged her to make a choice, over the old or new gods. She declined to answer, and now they hate her.
He’d let that all simmer for now.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
