He wasn’t surprised when things didn’t quite go according to plan – were the world not full of trials and tribulations, the earth would be full of the inept, the ignorant, and the naïve. It would be nice if something were to go right for a change, but the soldier didn’t beg, plead, or long for the notion – just a passing thought as his efforts had been for naught.
He watched the pieces he’d gathered slowly begin to sink; the floor no longer strong enough to support the rubble and ruin he’d brought in. The Reaper had merely presumed, hadn’t thought ahead to the layers beneath the blacksmith fixtures, and now would have to backtrack to get anything remotely accomplished. He’d been too quick, too hasty, quite unlike his usual methodical, meticulous intentions. Perhaps this just went to show why his purposes, methods, and means were deliberate, calculated, and precise; they tended to fall apart around him otherwise. The beast muffled a sigh, and took some of the stones off the tier, carrying them outside with him as he surveyed the ground. It wasn’t one of the most resilient looking grounds; sagging with the burden of too many things. Perhaps time had worn away its strength, or a lack of enduring stability had simply caused it to buckle under the pressure, eroded with the passing of decades and days.
He eyed the rocks he’d brought with him, then grabbed ahold of a few, trying to position them beneath the languishing ends of the structure, turning and twisting them in various directions to surmise some notion of it being level too, so they wouldn’t have the same issue in the near future. Reconstruction and repair was always a necessity, but it didn’t need to be so soon, so quickly. Deimos repeated the gesture several more times, walking back into the forge to grab ahold of a few more stones, for there were many others nearby, and he could replace them later.
{Deimos attempts to take the stones out of the forge and put them within the cobblestone ground to reinforce it.}
