Deimos the Reaper You can't take back the cards you've dealt on this long and lonely road to hell the throne must be such a sad and lonely place Together instead of multitudes and layers and lives apart, he settled again, a restless breath unbidden, curling away on plumes of ice and snow. Something to savor, these seconds, these moments, to learn to cherish memories instead of regard them as something he’ll never have again. Still in her embrace, he leaned his head back against the embankment again, the warm water soaking into muscles; if only it were real, and not figments. Magic scalded across the water, forming into the representation of a monster from the deep. Jaws and claws, figments of something that should've been a fantasy, another part of a dream or a nightmare. “Battled a sea panther.” He waited to see her reaction, the ghost of a grin, a snicker, some long-lost glee spread across his mouth. “Got the Flood electrocuted.” A laugh, not broken, not snapped, but whole and real, erupting from his chest, wrapped around his heart, so desperate to heal. “Not on purpose, of course.” An arch to his brow might’ve indicated otherwise, but in tangible circumstances, that’d been the truth. “It was eating people. Then it was gone.” Back out into ethers – he made his snap at air, then dissolve back into foam. More bear claws, more coffee. “What would I do without you?” Came on a whim, but he didn’t know. Didn’t have the answer, and not much had gone well in his life since, as he reached for another pastry and bit into it. |
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary
