and the only solution was to stand and fight
He gave another nod; taking all the grief and solidarity, trying to keep himself out of its constant ache. Wakes and children, things they could utilize in some tangibility as another went to Mort’s Realm without a chance of other circumstances – of thoughts churning to eventual lanterns at the next Festival of Lights. He’d seen Ravenna, aged now. Margot unwell. Marcus occupying himself with things other than overbearing strife. Patterns amidst the circumstances reflected upon all of them – if it was one thing every Halovian seemed to know, it was tragedy. And then strength. But gods, sometimes it was far too much to bear.
Another deep breath forged across his lungs and he found himself capable of shielding much of the melancholy for other times – casting Noah’s name into one of the masses who’d be willing to take part in restoration purposes. “All right,” wondering if that would be too much still, if he was going to return to other duties, like Vi, and demigod demolition alongside brethren – especially as they ventured closer and closer to the depths of Starfall. Or perhaps that was a query for the future – when there were more solid foundations and time away from tragedies.
And he thought that would be all – acceptance, forbearance, and they’d keep going on as they had for what felt like eternities now. Quiet and solemn and completely disregarding everything they’d built. Deimos wasn’t one to grant too many chances and opportunities, not when they’d been spit back in his face on revolving doors and incomprehensible decisions. The potency of his good will lasted until another ensured they didn’t feel the same, or intended to utilize it in some other heinous capacity; and Noah’s had been severed once he’d refused to take accountability for his own actions. Most of which could’ve easily sewn discontent and malice between two regions., had it not for clearer minds prevailing. He’d told the Forsaken as much. In multiple capacities. For it to have fallen on naught but anger and abhorrence, and layers of now steeled resolve.
So there was no expectation of the sudden vulnerability battering at the bond; his brow arching as he glanced up from another paper. The last thing he would’ve ever presumed to come from Noah was an apology. Narrowing his eyes, Deimos wondered if it was worth it – to cross these pathways again, to see if there was more comprehension amidst years of turmoil and mistakes. Neither I, nor Danta for that matter, deserved your ire. But they’d been treated as such. Things could’ve been so much easier, so much simpler, had cooler prevalence taken shape. Do you understand why we were displeased? Why we cannot afford to be fighting amidst our regions?
Another deep breath forged across his lungs and he found himself capable of shielding much of the melancholy for other times – casting Noah’s name into one of the masses who’d be willing to take part in restoration purposes. “All right,” wondering if that would be too much still, if he was going to return to other duties, like Vi, and demigod demolition alongside brethren – especially as they ventured closer and closer to the depths of Starfall. Or perhaps that was a query for the future – when there were more solid foundations and time away from tragedies.
And he thought that would be all – acceptance, forbearance, and they’d keep going on as they had for what felt like eternities now. Quiet and solemn and completely disregarding everything they’d built. Deimos wasn’t one to grant too many chances and opportunities, not when they’d been spit back in his face on revolving doors and incomprehensible decisions. The potency of his good will lasted until another ensured they didn’t feel the same, or intended to utilize it in some other heinous capacity; and Noah’s had been severed once he’d refused to take accountability for his own actions. Most of which could’ve easily sewn discontent and malice between two regions., had it not for clearer minds prevailing. He’d told the Forsaken as much. In multiple capacities. For it to have fallen on naught but anger and abhorrence, and layers of now steeled resolve.
So there was no expectation of the sudden vulnerability battering at the bond; his brow arching as he glanced up from another paper. The last thing he would’ve ever presumed to come from Noah was an apology. Narrowing his eyes, Deimos wondered if it was worth it – to cross these pathways again, to see if there was more comprehension amidst years of turmoil and mistakes. Neither I, nor Danta for that matter, deserved your ire. But they’d been treated as such. Things could’ve been so much easier, so much simpler, had cooler prevalence taken shape. Do you understand why we were displeased? Why we cannot afford to be fighting amidst our regions?
DEIMOS
