[DROP] No time like the present

Deimos the Reaper You can't take back the cards you've dealt on this long and lonely road to hell the throne must be such a sad and lonely place Gatherings tended to be ominous. In his experience, either something intriguing or treacherous occurred when there was a ring of figures settled amidst clamor, din, curiosity, and the vast unknown. Unfortunately, his own inquisitive nature tended to his calculations, machinations, and determination, because he’d once been a wide-eyed child staring into the abyss, and he’d yet to conquer his tendencies and inclinations towards the void. The Reaper roamed steadily nearby, drifting in and out of shadow, merely watching, scoping, out finer details and the general status quo. In between forms and beings, he could make out cloaks and eerie fingers, tapping on a box, indicating and saying nothing – which of course, only leant and scalded him further into investigation. What did it contain – weapons, poison, chained monsters? Or was it an act of repose, meant to look sinister, but betraying little? It was difficult to judge or determine without any other notions or motions, so he tilted his head and continued onward, drifting along the perimeter of their circle. It’d likely led everyone else here too, and his piercing gaze briefly lit upon recognizable forms, Rexanna, Remi, and then maneuvered over the eldritch mist, the swallowing fog, the tunes of a bard sweeping over bone bridges and porcelain enamel. Perhaps they’d been fed into a trap, a warren, a labyrinth; and he clenched at his jaw at the notion, inching closer to those he knew, in case they required his vicious, menacing aid.

_{Photo and Table by Time
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary}