you aren't afraid of throwing yourself
in the path of danger
The notion of going to any god, ever, had always been a foreign concept to him. In Isilme, they were war-torn machines, hastening battle axes and mettle, fighting spirit amongst their heathens, their glorified titans. He’d bent his form in front of their idols and wished for cures, for ways to heal the rain, and been readily ignored. In Helovia, he’d had little use for their broken shrines and irreverent efforts – the Moon Goddess had cultivated murder and used the Wildfire as her puppet, the Spark God had decimated worlds on a mercurial, tempestuous whim, and the Time God, while the Repaer had been undoubtedly indebted to him for the sheer existence of the Basin, had been an outright asinine jerk. It hadn’t inspired any holy, pious contortions to riddle their way into his sanction – and by some eerie, enigmatic turn of events, some forced procedures and preambles, he’d wandered towards temples and pedestals, hoping for answers and signs. Most of the time, it had constituted into nothing but the same old silence as before - you’re not worthy a crashing slate of syllables and phrases he’d learned to embody and expect. His latest venture, however, straight towards Safrin’s predilections, had been an entirely different venue, and he had the plumage, the feathers, and the ghosts to prove it.
Now didn’t seem like the right moment to display those things now – as much as he would’ve liked to share their new hybrid attributes; not matching, but similar in their distinctions. He’d marred that no sooner than they’d arrived.
Going to the see the Voice was a prickly thing too; a gaping uncertainty and apprehension coiled in his gut. “Would they tell you?” He glanced up, his tone flat, but inquiring, back towards the Penumbra, pondering if that was too sharp or harsh, if the machinations of gods extended to lies and duplicity for the sake of their methods and goals. What was the purpose behind spreading the blight – if that was what had been truly occurring? If it was more than just rumors? How could they end it, besides planting roses? Or was it all just a farce, and they had no chance, no opportunity at all?
Now didn’t seem like the right moment to display those things now – as much as he would’ve liked to share their new hybrid attributes; not matching, but similar in their distinctions. He’d marred that no sooner than they’d arrived.
Going to the see the Voice was a prickly thing too; a gaping uncertainty and apprehension coiled in his gut. “Would they tell you?” He glanced up, his tone flat, but inquiring, back towards the Penumbra, pondering if that was too sharp or harsh, if the machinations of gods extended to lies and duplicity for the sake of their methods and goals. What was the purpose behind spreading the blight – if that was what had been truly occurring? If it was more than just rumors? How could they end it, besides planting roses? Or was it all just a farce, and they had no chance, no opportunity at all?
but you're terrified of
letting anyone in
letting anyone in
DEIMOS
