fine in the fire
For Vervain
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 34 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 74 - Dext: 74 - Endr: 75 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 6,741 | Total: 10,898
MP: 6754
#5
Deimos
They’d met before, but it been under harrowing, disastrous circumstances, commands brought into fruition on dark, eternal nights; and he had no notion to revisit it. Instead, he shook her hand in return, taking the names of Vervain and Vai, a grin restored along her features as everything was sorted out; no harm done, no other pain or melancholies encountered.

He hadn’t been akin to a mender’s scrutiny in a long while; not since ivory tents propped amidst the hundreds of others along the outskirts of a battlefield, torn apart then stitched back together again, sent along dirges and the hounds of war. But he could feel her eyes on him, likely assessing the probabilities and distinctions of his wound, there, cluttered amidst all the others.

The warrior followed where she’d implored him to go, along through the ward, a curtain drawn back. At her inquiry, he simply nodded, inhaling as he lifted his shoulders briefly (a pulsing, reverberating sensation clawing its way – searing, coiling, smoldering – a reminder he didn’t require), tugging at the ends of his shirt and peeling it away from his form. Beneath the linen, gone and hanging loosely from his hand, undulated and rippled the distinction of his muscles, warrior-esque, broad, conformed to years upon years of sacrificial arms and munitions. It was clear the more one stared; scars webbed and zig-zagged from the top of his frame and down the length of his torso, his abdomen, marks and blemishes upon a canvas of stories nestled in lacerations and ancient injuries. Some had been serious, detrimental, and some had been mere cuts to the flesh, embodiments of times he’d been too distracted or taken a hit for someone else – but the crux of the matter lingered on his right shoulder, blazing and burning bright, skin mottled and inflamed, wretched and boiled. “Flinthopper,” the Reaper added, indicating which element had caused him to receive the singed skin, lifting his eyes to see what she would do.
Out of sight and out of mind
Make everything alright
So let the sky and sea collide
Just not in our lifetime


Messages In This Thread
fine in the fire - by Deimos - 06-01-2019, 09:07 PM
RE: fine in the fire - by Vervain - 06-03-2019, 08:12 PM
RE: fine in the fire - by Deimos - 06-03-2019, 10:56 PM
RE: fine in the fire - by Vervain - 06-08-2019, 03:17 PM
RE: fine in the fire - by Deimos - 06-08-2019, 06:36 PM
RE: fine in the fire - by Vervain - 06-14-2019, 06:36 PM
RE: fine in the fire - by Deimos - 06-16-2019, 05:21 PM
RE: fine in the fire - by Vervain - 06-18-2019, 08:16 PM
RE: fine in the fire - by Deimos - 06-18-2019, 09:21 PM
RE: fine in the fire - by Vervain - 06-19-2019, 08:41 PM
RE: fine in the fire - by Deimos - 06-20-2019, 12:08 AM
RE: fine in the fire - by Vervain - 06-22-2019, 05:32 PM
RE: fine in the fire - by Deimos - 06-23-2019, 11:02 PM
RE: fine in the fire - by Vervain - 06-24-2019, 04:22 PM

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