[SE] For all of us

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame While Halo hadn’t been in the throng of LongNight’s worst, save for a few escaped proportions, Deimos, and many others, still carried those scars of prior experiences. The endless evenings had always made him restless, eager to either claw at the walls or constantly patrol through the streets, trying to stop monsters that weren’t even there. That Marcus wanted to hear about it made his brow arch – tucking an inward snort through his lungs as the rain began to cascade. Arching a bout of his own incantations against it, it would appear as though there was a makeshift and invisible shield around them, as the elements drifted away, scattering feet away from them rather than directly upon their heads. Were Noah’s son any younger, Deimos would not have agreed. He wasn’t like Erebos any longer, who wanted to know and hear and learn but lacked the maturity to deal with it properly. Exhaling a long, slow breath, he glanced away from the hybrid and across the great wake of ice. “We used to stockpile much like we do here, but all in several central areas. Had to lure the luxere in, because they were essentially a light shield against what lurked during LongNight.” Hence his loyalty to them, the lack of hunting prowess around something he considered sacred, necessary, despite their fear of everything contained innately within his soul. “You would hear voices from time to time. Scratches on the walls, the windows. They would sound familiar. Distinct. Like they were reading your mind, begging and pleading to be let in." A mournful echo in the psychological torture. "And you would always wonder if you should open that door. What if they were your friends? What if someone had escaped or hid, and now needed somewhere to stay?” master of nothing place; of recoil and grace