Damien
there's some good in this
world worth fighting for
world worth fighting for
Damien’s expression softened a little at the mention of his twins. “I can tell,” he said quietly, and he meant it. Whatever else had happened, the love in Remi’s voice was undeniable. “Maybe that’s the part that counts, in the end. It's definitely complicated, but.. sounds like something good came out of it. Can’t imagine Frey didn’t have a reason for that..”
He rubbed thoughtfully at the back of his neck, gaze drifting as he recalled meeting the herald, before he spoke again. “I met the Nature aspect. They were… different than I expected. No games, no edge. They were... wrapped in light, like the aurora back home, and wore the pelt of the snow leopard I’d offered as if it had always been theirs.”
His brow furrowed slightly at the memory, but not in confusion—more a quiet reverence. “They told me the bond I wanted had to be earned. No shortcuts, no gifts. Just work. Which feels… fair, certainly. Her mother,” he notioned toward the cub, who had flopped over lazily in the grass, "was a.. well, she took to hunting people rather than their usual prey. Guess times got tough for them. I didn't know about the cub until after. I robbed her of that life, whether I meant to or not. But she didn't ask for any of it. So makin' her my responsibility feels fair, in a way. Like maybe I can make up for... some of what happened." He didn't know how to describe perfectly the innate need to give back, not just take from the wild. It would not balance the scales, not entirely, but.. it was better than leaving an innocent out in the snow to starve for the sins of its forebears.
So rather than fumbling through words, he fell quiet, thumb brushing against his knuckles before glancing back at Remi. “Anyway, my brief experience was very different. Guess that’s why it’s strange to hear what they did to you. Doesn’t line up with what I saw. Makes me think they’ve changed—or maybe it’s just the difference between their faces.” His tone was careful, not challenging, but genuinely curious; a mortal man still trying to piece together the rules of something much older than himself.
When Remi mentioned Deimos, Damien nodded almost immediately. “Can’t argue there. Man’s got a good head on his shoulders.” His arms folded loosely, posture easing as if the admission came naturally. “I’ve thought about Attuning, you know. The call of the wild, or something like that.” His grin was slight but real, the self-awareness in it undercutting any arrogance. “Guess I just haven’t found the right moment—or the right reason—to make that kind of choice.”
He looked toward the horizon again, the light on the water gilding his profile. “Still… I get what you mean about the strings. Seems like anything powerful enough to change you usually comes with a few.” A pause, then a small smirk. “Doesn’t always stop us from grabbing hold anyway, though, does it?”
He rubbed thoughtfully at the back of his neck, gaze drifting as he recalled meeting the herald, before he spoke again. “I met the Nature aspect. They were… different than I expected. No games, no edge. They were... wrapped in light, like the aurora back home, and wore the pelt of the snow leopard I’d offered as if it had always been theirs.”
His brow furrowed slightly at the memory, but not in confusion—more a quiet reverence. “They told me the bond I wanted had to be earned. No shortcuts, no gifts. Just work. Which feels… fair, certainly. Her mother,” he notioned toward the cub, who had flopped over lazily in the grass, "was a.. well, she took to hunting people rather than their usual prey. Guess times got tough for them. I didn't know about the cub until after. I robbed her of that life, whether I meant to or not. But she didn't ask for any of it. So makin' her my responsibility feels fair, in a way. Like maybe I can make up for... some of what happened." He didn't know how to describe perfectly the innate need to give back, not just take from the wild. It would not balance the scales, not entirely, but.. it was better than leaving an innocent out in the snow to starve for the sins of its forebears.
So rather than fumbling through words, he fell quiet, thumb brushing against his knuckles before glancing back at Remi. “Anyway, my brief experience was very different. Guess that’s why it’s strange to hear what they did to you. Doesn’t line up with what I saw. Makes me think they’ve changed—or maybe it’s just the difference between their faces.” His tone was careful, not challenging, but genuinely curious; a mortal man still trying to piece together the rules of something much older than himself.
When Remi mentioned Deimos, Damien nodded almost immediately. “Can’t argue there. Man’s got a good head on his shoulders.” His arms folded loosely, posture easing as if the admission came naturally. “I’ve thought about Attuning, you know. The call of the wild, or something like that.” His grin was slight but real, the self-awareness in it undercutting any arrogance. “Guess I just haven’t found the right moment—or the right reason—to make that kind of choice.”
He looked toward the horizon again, the light on the water gilding his profile. “Still… I get what you mean about the strings. Seems like anything powerful enough to change you usually comes with a few.” A pause, then a small smirk. “Doesn’t always stop us from grabbing hold anyway, though, does it?”
