we're all killers
Agendas – hundreds of other ploys and schemes wrapped within a Loreseeker’s mind. How many could be contained in there? How many threads could be intertwined and woven, until they were knotted, gnarled, and frayed? How long had he been concocting these things, how long had he been lacing them all together? “We were,” he grumbled – but it had been beneath the earthen mound, not behind walls or reflecting pools. His frustration heightened, little by little, the more the conversation went on, the more revelations made apparent, the more he’d trusted and Remi deciphered. How many times had they been misled? It was a blinding snare, and Deimos detested that he’d been wrapped in it, caught, inveigled when he hadn’t even been aware.
Then the portals – that funneled to the Greatwood? He did emit a growl on that one; because he’d been nearly lured by the notions of oceans and mountains, of worlds beyond worlds, of places he’d thought he’d never reach or see again (cliffs and rime, glaciers and currents). “Only to the Greatwood?” As if there were hope for any others, if there were walls behind those stupid snakes the bard thought so highly off; the smallest, meager hopes suddenly dismantling piece by piece. As if it mattered, when they could easily just walk over to the forest.
He ignored his glass, fingers suddenly clenching over its existence. “Just the three…do we know of any other magic users?” Any with powers equal to theirs? Any who could destroy and devastate, ruin and maul? “The masks could at least give us time.” Time to rip apart more of the fronds, more of the poison, more of the venom. Currently, he wanted to utilize all the invocations within his figure to pummel Jigano, but that was neither here nor there. “Exactly,” he murmured in agreement on the last bit, finally taking another swig.
Then the portals – that funneled to the Greatwood? He did emit a growl on that one; because he’d been nearly lured by the notions of oceans and mountains, of worlds beyond worlds, of places he’d thought he’d never reach or see again (cliffs and rime, glaciers and currents). “Only to the Greatwood?” As if there were hope for any others, if there were walls behind those stupid snakes the bard thought so highly off; the smallest, meager hopes suddenly dismantling piece by piece. As if it mattered, when they could easily just walk over to the forest.
He ignored his glass, fingers suddenly clenching over its existence. “Just the three…do we know of any other magic users?” Any with powers equal to theirs? Any who could destroy and devastate, ruin and maul? “The masks could at least give us time.” Time to rip apart more of the fronds, more of the poison, more of the venom. Currently, he wanted to utilize all the invocations within his figure to pummel Jigano, but that was neither here nor there. “Exactly,” he murmured in agreement on the last bit, finally taking another swig.
DEIMOS
