DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
Deimos wasn’t certain if he could ever be bored with peace, save for restless, inherent tendencies – so easily maneuvered into defensive or offensive notions as soon as any sign of threat arose – he found himself fitting repose with some difficulty into his everyday stations. It had eventually settled over his shoulders, but the first half of the season had found him still in those highlights of trepidation, waiting for some other portion to filter and fall apart. Then there was always the pending, looming stage of LongNight heralded in the near distance; but perhaps that was more of memories and the stranglehold monsters had held on them for years on end.
So he shook his head at the sentiments, smiling at her indifference, figuring she’d know best when the current changed and altered for her customers. “There will always be something though,” he murmured, arching a brow, speaking from experience. Even if there weren’t parasitic individuals coming from a different world now, others always found their way into dramatics and antics, whether it was political, relationship oriented, or merely altering ties and formations from prior circumstances.
Anything else he might’ve uttered was lost though, once the dolphins started escalating. “I plan not to,” he shrugged; figuring if he missed his pending incantations, then he’d simply be drenched, and Alys no worse for wear. Thereafter though, it didn’t much matter – the encantados escalated, the clouds opening wide and surrounding the area in dousing rain. Deimos unfurled his own mastery over the enchantments, altering and bending the filaments and droplets away from them – he could hear Zuriel snorting from the brush – but then there was Belial to worry about.
The peryton simply hadn’t taken the hint, hooting as he became doused – so the Sword was forced to snag at multiple focuses and concentrations, utilizing his Air to grab hold and whisk the companion his way.
So he shook his head at the sentiments, smiling at her indifference, figuring she’d know best when the current changed and altered for her customers. “There will always be something though,” he murmured, arching a brow, speaking from experience. Even if there weren’t parasitic individuals coming from a different world now, others always found their way into dramatics and antics, whether it was political, relationship oriented, or merely altering ties and formations from prior circumstances.
Anything else he might’ve uttered was lost though, once the dolphins started escalating. “I plan not to,” he shrugged; figuring if he missed his pending incantations, then he’d simply be drenched, and Alys no worse for wear. Thereafter though, it didn’t much matter – the encantados escalated, the clouds opening wide and surrounding the area in dousing rain. Deimos unfurled his own mastery over the enchantments, altering and bending the filaments and droplets away from them – he could hear Zuriel snorting from the brush – but then there was Belial to worry about.
The peryton simply hadn’t taken the hint, hooting as he became doused – so the Sword was forced to snag at multiple focuses and concentrations, utilizing his Air to grab hold and whisk the companion his way.
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
