[KQ] What Lies Beneath

D e i m o s

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

There was a semblance of satisfaction pressed into his veins, into his flesh, into his skin, at the spilling of blood: routine, normal, something he’d been built and conformed for from the very beginning. Warrior through and through, honed knowledge, skills, and techniques meant solely for destruction, mayhem, and distortions of an adversary, melded and harpooned towards the ROUs again. Success measured its way through blade and enchantments, molding the barest glimmer of a snicker, a smirk, triumphant little ministrations of death and desecration. Zuriel, apparently, felt the same – a riotous fervor bristling and hastening amidst their bond, and it would be hard-pressed to wonder where it began and where it ended, avaricious irreverence in the unwound savagery, coated in blood, a loss of nobility but a gain in unholy vehemence. He followed the wake of everyone else’s movements – not even remotely surprised at Kiada’s actions, nor Amalia or Jigano’s, their preferences not aimed towards violence (it wasn’t for everyone). Thereafter, when there were corpses and the rest had scattered, Zuriel, already incredibly prideful, held a vastly superior glance to her eyes, and tended to the wound on Kiada’s leg. The Sword and unicorn followed after Jigano’s instructions, not lingering or meandering along the threshold, or awaiting some other fold of skittering nuisances. The pace, quick and swift, was tended to by his long limbs, unfurling their way through the dark, his gaze sweeping over each and every one of them, senses keyed in on any other movements, motions, or sounds. But when they came to a tribulation, a wall that ensured Zuriel would have to remain behind, the unicorn immediately huffed, snorted, effectively putting her foot down. Though he could’ve shifted and not worried about his shoulders at all, they’d already made use of Zuriel’s tactics and abilities once – and he wasn’t about to simply abandon her. The general was also loathe to make more work for everyone else; the weight of uncertainty shifting on his shoulders – because what if this was the only way to wherever their destination anointed? Could he carve her a way through? “I would rather not leave Zuriel,” was his first statement, but he would defer to a group decision if it became necessary. The unicorn however, haughty, smug, and gaining a certain narrowed-eyed feature, might not. “I could move some stones?” Another risk; in case everything else fell – the chill of the Spire still a blistering memory in the back of his mind. For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate