[PQ] with our backs against the wall

D e i m o s

Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass

While it wasn’t miraculous, after all their efforts, the dirt, earth, and loam managed to hold. It was a welcome relief – the warrior didn’t concealing his sigh this time, wiping a cloth over his brow, and eyes roaming back over the crew. They all seemed fairly worn, fatigued, and drawn. This would be a decent spot to end for the day. They’d managed to create a door, place in supports, and dig a fair amount before succumbing to the elements, and their own endurance. “Well done, everyone.” The smallest of smiles tugged on his lips, gesturing to each of them in turn. “This seems like an opportune time to get some rest. Thank you to all of you for your assistance. Come back tomorrow if you wish.” There was a wry smirk on the finale of the intonations; he wouldn’t blame them for not returning the following day – the labor was intensive, and the means and measures still might not be successful after everything was said and done. His gaze ghosted back to the supports in place. “I will bring in more timber. We may need more than I originally planned.” The length of his stare fizzled along Jigano, Remi, and Rory, grateful for their presence; he’d be incapable of doing any of this alone. “I wonder if there is a way we could work at a faster, more efficient pace. Something to mull over,” and he shrugged, speculations and calculations already forming, despite the tired lines already pulsing and pervading elsewhere on his form. And with that, he allowed them the opportunity to flee the basement and all its wares behind. -- He rose fairly early the following morning, intending to get a head start on the proceedings. The longer beams behind his house, meant for additional improvements on his residence, would have to be cut, and he spent several hours in the blooming dawn measuring and hacking. Before long, he had an ample pile to work with for the day’s beckoning tunnel. The beast spent a majority of his time bringing them to the bakery, loading them onto a cart that he dragged over himself (Zuriel was far too proud and majestic to do physical labor), back and forth, back and forth, so by the crest of the sun whittling itself over leaves and ether, the stack had been relocated into the lantern-lit stones of the basement. His fortitude, conviction, and brute nature kept him going; granted enough time to sneak up the stairs and grab some scones already cooling from Amalia, placing them on the table for future sustenance. Water was in abundance as well, pitcher and glasses ready for the taking. Thankfully, as the others soon arrived, he could begin directions for the next wave. It would sound repetitive and redundant, unfortunately, such was the nature of their valiant work. “I would like to put new braces and supports about every six feet. We could start the same process as yesterday – some to dig, some to cut,” his hands opened in a gesture towards the new quantity of timber. “Unless anyone has other ideas.” Then he grabbed hold of a shovel, eager and fervent to return to where they’d left off – the support beams still in place, the earth still held together and upright. -- No post order! For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate