and the only solution was to stand and fight
The term no longer seemed to carry such ill will and malcontent as it had once in the Grounds; back when they were all held behind barriers and striving to claw their way out. Or perhaps because so many had assimilated, perished, or disappeared. Too few to complain about, and the rest given rise and fall on their journeys across Caido. He gave half a smile at Asta’s response, shrugging as he worked through another portion of metal. Much like Abandoned, he’d never been ashamed of carrying it either; just one more individual trying to survive, having been pulled from his world and into the next. “Thank you. It took some time to adapt.” LongNight had been a stretch of misery he’d never quite gotten over – even years separated from the terrors. “Likely the same for all of you.” With gaps to fill in – growth and alterations, changes and designations. To never have known the Voice and her notions might’ve been something worthwhile.
His eyes went from the shadow and back to Asta, brow arching slightly, before passing more of the flattened pieces or assisting in whatever else the Ancient required. A scout in Halo wasn’t unlike trackers of today – chasing down prey or patrolling across the vast, ivory denizens. “Did you ever make it to the Draig?” Deimos only had for war and brief visits with Remi and Ronin when they’d still lived amongst the peaks, but curious to know if it had been like that before. At the notions of a fyrhund, he managed a small chuckle. “Similar to my hellhound shift.” Preferences of fire and blood somewhere melded in between.
As for Dygra, he could only muse. “So I have heard.” And given the chaotic blood moon event, he was never quite certain if he’d want to participate in such a motley distinction again. He could embody bedlam, but still at the druthers of his own control. A thin line, and perhaps not one shared here. The goddess didn’t seem like the Voice, and that was enough for the Sword. “At least it keeps things interesting.”
His eyes went from the shadow and back to Asta, brow arching slightly, before passing more of the flattened pieces or assisting in whatever else the Ancient required. A scout in Halo wasn’t unlike trackers of today – chasing down prey or patrolling across the vast, ivory denizens. “Did you ever make it to the Draig?” Deimos only had for war and brief visits with Remi and Ronin when they’d still lived amongst the peaks, but curious to know if it had been like that before. At the notions of a fyrhund, he managed a small chuckle. “Similar to my hellhound shift.” Preferences of fire and blood somewhere melded in between.
As for Dygra, he could only muse. “So I have heard.” And given the chaotic blood moon event, he was never quite certain if he’d want to participate in such a motley distinction again. He could embody bedlam, but still at the druthers of his own control. A thin line, and perhaps not one shared here. The goddess didn’t seem like the Voice, and that was enough for the Sword. “At least it keeps things interesting.”
DEIMOS
