Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
Beginning to fit the piece of obsidian against metal and leather, he lifted his brow, following the course of questions. While pleased to hear she wouldn’t be following in the absurd and stupefying footsteps of the Flood, he was missing some other parameters of suddenly spun abhorrence. Though a snort laced its way through his chest, given how easily both of them settled into wrath, depending on the cause, blight, and circumstance. “Why the vitriol towards Harper?” From what he knew of the man – save very little – he was polite, if a little goofy. He listened thereafter to other musing thoughts, content to give advice, tangents, or plausible ideas over items. “Not something you would have to snag at a moment’s notice,” agreeing with the sentiments, as he fixed the blackened element into the middle of the belt. “Could activate it with something simple.”
