Deimos
you can be a comet tearing open the sky if you want
never say of course; never let them drain the river of your soul
Snorting, he maneuvered the bell closer to the butcher; permitting him access to the keepsake, welcome to have whatever auroras he craved. There was a pause in between though, amidst the offers extended; Deimos could understand and fathom why. He was a man of transactions – easily capable of rendering bestowals and offers, then finding degrees in which the decrees could land accordingly, but some simply weren’t. Debts and obligations could be a liability in some circumstances, but the Sword preferred the opportunity rather than letting the overdrawn and beholden portions linger and loiter for too long. Nor was there any rush on the other’s part – information was a valuable resource, but what he required might not have been readily accessible at all times. “So I have heard,” he grinned in response, mindlessly tugging his daughter’s hat down further where it had popped up in brief movements. “We have a deal,” and he offered his hand, in case that was how the Ancient preferred to settle things.never say of course; never let them drain the river of your soul
Thereafter, he conjured a piece of paper into the air as well, letting the gilded glow settle across his palm before charcoal followed suit, then slid it over to said security officer. “If you have any particulars for it, you could draw them out.” Unless he wanted the Sword to have free rein; which Deimos might take into some comedic means and ends.
