DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
Perhaps enemies within had been that much easier to deal with – figuratively, certainly not emotionally. Not when some Ascended had been part of families. Not when a goddess’s manipulation unraveled others at the very heart and soul of their entities. The Family had been cunning and deceitful, but parasitic as well – leeching and stealing, overt and cruel. And still, through it all, maybe in the embittered portions of relief, he had to laugh quietly at the thought of opponents from space. “I suppose,” as he sighed, ghosting his mouth near her ear, intentionally biting at it when she strived to maneuver out of his teasing range. “Still, more thoughts for the future,” about what potentially could linger and lurk out of every corner. “Never believed we would have so many uses for flowers.” Which he thought might spark some amusement out of her; considering her dedication to plant life.
Taking another pointed huff of a breath and aiming it at her skin, maybe to distract and deflect, maybe to taunt and tease, maybe to rouse and revitalize, he listened, the key aspects of their thoughts drifting on intermingled contortions. “True. Only seemed to inspire ire and fear.” And determination, resolution, and resolve soon after. “I am not fond of parasites.”
Taking another pointed huff of a breath and aiming it at her skin, maybe to distract and deflect, maybe to taunt and tease, maybe to rouse and revitalize, he listened, the key aspects of their thoughts drifting on intermingled contortions. “True. Only seemed to inspire ire and fear.” And determination, resolution, and resolve soon after. “I am not fond of parasites.”
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
