Before the storm

D e i m o s

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

For some imperceptible reason, it was easier for him to converse about Kiada’s intended quest and LongNight, rather than meander and roam around the disastrous wake of their previous words. Despite his misgivings about the entire thing, Ru’in’s lost, lingering soul, meant to be snatched and then slain, the potential pitfalls of LongNight itself, he’d begun to accept the idea of her merely walking out into the void with just Jigano – the distrust not so readily beneath his skin any longer. It was more or less the ruminations of monsters, demons, and death; the girl had always been strong, resolute, adamant, and tenacious, had survived yesteryear’s LongNight (though he wasn’t sure he’d consider it successful; she’d gained Auni but Isla had died in the transaction), and the spiraling weight of ominous loss that stung and nettled at him. But he wasn’t allowed to clutch or grasp or hover over the people he cherished, her expression had said as much, and so he was stuck, for the time being, with feral sighs and disapproving glares. “What are you supposed to do?” Deimos tilted his head again, more curiosity than anything else, tone deep and flat, not giving away the inflection of anything other than mere inquiry. Then his eyes went to the argent chain mail and metallic pieces he’d already been preparing. Zuriel snorted from somewhere by the hearth, some rampant disapproval of his next intentions coaxing at their bond, but he ignored it. “Do you need anything?” He paused, uncertain of Jigano’s preference in munitions, other than a rapier or staff, pondering over what would be a necessity for capturing entities – even those well known. “I made Kiada armor and weapons.” The Sword made no mention of the vast collection of knives, daggers, swords, and cutlasses along the walls behind him, or within the many drawers; outnumbering eating cutlery by a massive amount. The Sage could likely have his pick, or he could make something, carve it out of enchantments all over again. For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate