how long will you scream at the walls
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 6,559 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#11
DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
Made you?” His eyes narrowed: membrane speculating, all those years of plotting along the throne, intertwining diplomacies and politics (a matter of absolute contempt and abhorrence), knowing and understanding the lengths in which Rexanna resided. She was not a pushover. She always found a way to achieve her means. She used kindness and beneficence. She embodied trickery and snares, deceit and lies, cloak and daggers beneath the wiles and smiles. Perhaps this just meant the Merciless had her number, orchestrated means, measures, and methods to unravel the shift of Rexanna’s course and decisions – and it chiseled deep down into his chest, where the growls rumbled, where the tempest brewed. “Are you implying she is manipulating you? Controlling you?” Would she even be able to say? Was this some sort of invocation or enchantment – a touch upon the chin – that led her down this ridiculous path? The amount of seething hatred boiling in his blood was overwhelming and enormous – and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could control, compose, the nuances. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair – nothing in life was. It was just one more obstacle, one more reason, one more strike against the Merciless, one more reason to evict, condemn, or rise against the storm: seditious and brazen, audacious and immoral, rebellion on the tip of his tongue.

More – but she couldn’t say. Wanting to – but incapable. “Can it be broken?” The machinations in his core burned, simmered, coiled back over themselves again and again, stretching out into the abyss, into the void, and wondering why these earths, these worlds, always seemed to share their miseries, their woes, their anguish. She didn’t deserve this. All for the sake of someone, something – protecting; what he should’ve been doing all along. Maybe, just maybe, at the very sanction of him, deep in the bellows of his nefarious heart, part of the anger, the raw, choking heart, was because he didn’t do anything. Because he was too late. Because he should’ve been more than a shadow in the darkness, deciphering implicit, unsaid discourse. “Perhaps we could make something,” he mumbled under his breath, beneath the roughened timbre and the diminishing hope. Deimos had his crafting, but only so far: the alchemist might have had a better notion, given his advancements in techniques and invocations.

Don’t let it happen again echoed into his soul, stuck there like a thorn, like a nettle.

For there were many things he wouldn’t allow to occur any longer.
Unite and spread the heart apart


Messages In This Thread
how long will you scream at the walls - by Deimos - 07-07-2019, 12:51 AM
RE: how long will you scream at the walls - by Deimos - 07-13-2019, 12:00 AM

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