[ME] fire-touched and flame-kissed

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Deimos had been wondering how Nina would make these traditions her own, and so while everyone mingled or exchanged snacks (and he could snag at a piece of cake when Erebos was bartering something with Iskra), he glanced towards said first flame and its bright constituents. Fire had always been a natural tendency in his lineage; his father bore it well, and then he’d taken up the mantle, blending it fluidly with so many other elements. It had to be contorted and controlled to a certain extent, before letting it unfurl in so many possibilities and ranges – a welcome liberation and freedom of power and might. He let his own incantations ripple along his hands once Nina started speaking, coaxed figures that didn’t quite match hers; kept tucked neatly in his palms and occasionally drifting over to show off to Erebos. He’d heard this tale before – a well-known fixture amongst warnings and blessings. Aven’s illustrious journey of arrogance and stupidity, from ignoring proportions to going out amongst LongNight and its blackened storms. So at Erebos’ inquiry he grinned, leaning over to address the youth in a low murmur. “Something about recognizing and honoring power. Just like we do for the gods. Foolish people are often the first punished.” For many reasons and iterations. But he’d heard Iskra too, and granted a small grin tucked at the edges of his mouth, purposefully teasing. “You should tell it.” master of nothing place; of recoil and grace