DEIMOS
No matter how much Deimos might want to shield, protect, defend, and guard, sometimes, at least with Ru, it scarcely mattered. She’d always be an individual to seek out what implored and defied, even at the behest of her own predilections and assurances, wanting to prove the naysayers wrong. She’d journey to the ends of the earth on her own compass, and even if the urge to pluck her back into Halo surged, into known means and measures, into something that could persevere, she would’ve fought. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, take her from her children either, so maybe it was just another extension of Ru that could be close at hand, and vanished simultaneously, farther and farther until instances like now occurred. Infections. Death. Perhaps it depended on which ghosts one could live with, endure, and how many others could be discarded away. Wraiths lived on nearly every land for them now; in memory, in life, and there were some much harsher than the rest.
Sunjata, for example – living, breathing, but still a walking, waiting presence manifesting mistakes and discord. For as much as she might want to muffle against his chest, he still heard the words; the broken engagement, the withered heart (of which he didn’t immediately comprehend, brows furrowing while he processed), the adoration extinguished, diminished, and gone. His mouth opened and then he shut it rapidly, enough for the teeth to click against one another. He might’ve begrudgingly accepted the way she flew back to the Flood time and time again, but this juncture was a huge alteration from seasons and years before. “I do not understand – he gave you a physical heart?” He blinked once or twice, head shaking again as if that might rid him of some of the disbelief and bewilderment. Tucking her closer, he took a deep breath, withholding the multitudes of ‘I told you so’s and warnings, she’d likely had already done so to herself, trying to find the holds of what he knew. “Sunjata was the one that told me you were missing. He seemed concerned. Frantic.” At least enough to send the Sword on a wild goose chase, spinning wheels. What had changed in between? This decrepit organ?
No love, for anyone, for anything, made his eyes narrow; that, perhaps, at least he’d granted Hotaru freedom and liberation in this calamity. She probably didn’t want to hear those notions either; of either the relief she was out of his web or the perilous journey of her being severed again - a twisted bout of things that could be true all at once. That she’d found a spot within Flora’s home wasn’t a surprise – maybe the most realistic approach out of this whole mess. She hadn’t lost everything. “All right. What do you want to do now?”
Sunjata, for example – living, breathing, but still a walking, waiting presence manifesting mistakes and discord. For as much as she might want to muffle against his chest, he still heard the words; the broken engagement, the withered heart (of which he didn’t immediately comprehend, brows furrowing while he processed), the adoration extinguished, diminished, and gone. His mouth opened and then he shut it rapidly, enough for the teeth to click against one another. He might’ve begrudgingly accepted the way she flew back to the Flood time and time again, but this juncture was a huge alteration from seasons and years before. “I do not understand – he gave you a physical heart?” He blinked once or twice, head shaking again as if that might rid him of some of the disbelief and bewilderment. Tucking her closer, he took a deep breath, withholding the multitudes of ‘I told you so’s and warnings, she’d likely had already done so to herself, trying to find the holds of what he knew. “Sunjata was the one that told me you were missing. He seemed concerned. Frantic.” At least enough to send the Sword on a wild goose chase, spinning wheels. What had changed in between? This decrepit organ?
No love, for anyone, for anything, made his eyes narrow; that, perhaps, at least he’d granted Hotaru freedom and liberation in this calamity. She probably didn’t want to hear those notions either; of either the relief she was out of his web or the perilous journey of her being severed again - a twisted bout of things that could be true all at once. That she’d found a spot within Flora’s home wasn’t a surprise – maybe the most realistic approach out of this whole mess. She hadn’t lost everything. “All right. What do you want to do now?”
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
