Deimos
before bones, before dirt, before even light
this is who we were
The first sight of purple and lavender across the wake had him rigid and taut; maybe in brief disbelief. And then it cemented further into the lines of trepidation that had always been there, always calculated and wondered and sprang upon in the midst of his darkest thoughts. this is who we were
Halo wasn’t infallible. Never had been. None of them were. But gods they’d pressed their might and dominion into the Citadel with rushes of protection and shelter, opted for healing, for ensuring the world could be mended from the strains, and then –
His jaw became a firm line, other than the muscles ticking and feathering there. He was silent at first, stepping upon the ice initially out of the gates, everything running cold through his heart and lungs. Unnatural and unforgiving. The Sword swallowed down all the bile threatening to collect in his throat, the overbearing weight in his shoulders pressing into his spine and ribs. It felt like failure and cut like damnation, of things they could’ve and would’ve and should’ve done –
And now it scarcely mattered.
“We need to warn everyone,” he issued to Rhiannon. “Make sure no one ventures out here.” And somewhere in the back of his mind came a thunderous my fault my fault my fault bounty of guilt and predilection, loud and raucous.
this untamable expanse
churning proof that we have always been deep, restless souls
churning proof that we have always been deep, restless souls
