Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
He grinned at each congratulations, nodding his head in gratitude; the mental preparations always intermingling with the rest of the calculating hordes. “Thank you.” What he hadn’t expected was Flora’s news – eyes widening momentarily as he loosened a chuckle. “I had no idea,” but perhaps they hadn’t had any lengthy conversations since Families departed – a sobering thought, perhaps, to think old friends barely spoke unless it was at war. He knew he had to be better about it. “Congratulations to them. I will send something their way,” he added with a hint of mischief; though it’d likely be a care package of sorts. But it was the other insinuation that drew an arch to his brow, the vagueness just enough in his shrewd notions to give her a juvenile narrowing of his eyes, jocular, as if trying to pry out the answer – mind already wandering and pondering as to who the Doubletake might have been insinuating – either herself or…”Really,” he drawled instead of asking, the smile still there as they began to shuffle back to work. Perhaps it was just as he and Evie had discussed – all the fighting, all the protection, all the plots and conniving and striving had led up to points like these; where there was regrowth, rebirth, and a sanctity, a shelter, they’d harbored within.
He had another inquiry for Flora, but figured he’d save it for later – as it was a much more melancholic one – and he nodded at the notions of utilizing his magic. Summoning the earthen abilities within a breath, he carved and contorted the ground into something smooth, flat, and level.
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Deimos uses his Mastered Earth to level the shrine spot.
