DEIMOS
Long Night came next; a subject of impending, formidable, ominous focus, if not the blight machinations wearing themselves into her figure, then it was the threat of monsters, mayhem, and death again, coming for them all. Ru’in had been another victim of its onslaught, either too late, too slow, too unlucky, no one coming to his rescue, no one coming to his aid, amidst the insanity and malice. Deimos said nothing of Amalia’s similar fate: Edrei’s screams ringing out through doors, Bastien and himself opening the aperture, letting every other threat in; the baker lucky to be brought back. Ru’in had not been so fortunate, left outside in the chilling void, in the stark, desolate abyss – naught fortuitous or providential, no gods or divinities, no saving graces upon his threshold. Had he begged and pleaded to be allowed, permitted, to retreat into the sanctuary? Had he banged upon the opening, loud and clear, until his voice eventually receded, punctured by the sound of claws and screams?
It likely did naught to dwell on the nightmarish affair and event; but his mind roamed as she spoke, as she recounted the evening they wandered after Luxere, when Isla died, replaced and reincarnated in a unicorn’s framework, when more and more torturous anomalies descended.
Her voice grew softer, tucked away, hidden, nearly inaudible, and so he lingered back within the clusters of silence, waiting, patient. He had asked me to marry him echoed and bounded along, over the pockets of fire and snippets of lights, lanterns glistening in Stygian pursuits, pondering how to respond. Would you have? hastened forth, but seemed cruel and callous, a possibility no longer present for her, gone on the seething, tormenting lines of Long Night. “He would have been lucky to have you,” the beast proffered instead, a tilt of his head, smile fading on the edges of his mouth. It was difficult to be favored in this world – to plan, to calculate, to do anything but react and move forward. He had no doubt in his mind that she’d find a way – but the amount of other factors were reeling, bestial ministrations, difficult to surmount. You are strong, his piercing eyes said, riveting on her now, in the stillness, in the silence, in the fathoms of constant grief and memories.
It likely did naught to dwell on the nightmarish affair and event; but his mind roamed as she spoke, as she recounted the evening they wandered after Luxere, when Isla died, replaced and reincarnated in a unicorn’s framework, when more and more torturous anomalies descended.
Her voice grew softer, tucked away, hidden, nearly inaudible, and so he lingered back within the clusters of silence, waiting, patient. He had asked me to marry him echoed and bounded along, over the pockets of fire and snippets of lights, lanterns glistening in Stygian pursuits, pondering how to respond. Would you have? hastened forth, but seemed cruel and callous, a possibility no longer present for her, gone on the seething, tormenting lines of Long Night. “He would have been lucky to have you,” the beast proffered instead, a tilt of his head, smile fading on the edges of his mouth. It was difficult to be favored in this world – to plan, to calculate, to do anything but react and move forward. He had no doubt in his mind that she’d find a way – but the amount of other factors were reeling, bestial ministrations, difficult to surmount. You are strong, his piercing eyes said, riveting on her now, in the stillness, in the silence, in the fathoms of constant grief and memories.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
