after fury
what do you do
The Sword, the Reaper had long since understood what it meant to hide away. It had been a habit, a routine, firmly established, entrenched, and immersed into his blood no matter which life he was leading. For the Reaper, an apathetic, insouciant detachment, not revealing himself to anyone, staying along the shadows, blending in with Stygian veils and gloomy shrouds, a testament to disregard, indifference, and no emotions – because he’d been a seething, abhorrent blade, a glorious, harpooning munition ready to unravel and devastate threats in their path. For the Sword, he’d simply lost too much and it wasn’t worth the effort to try again, would have preferred to drop into his own muck and mire, flesh and bone, until the crows pecked at his skin and his heart gave out. He’d promised Safrin he’d be different now, now, now, that he wouldn’t run or hide or tuck himself straight into the damned, favored contortions, that his head wouldn’t hang so low, that he could be more than just the infernal gallows and the petulant swing of a sword. But the monolith didn’t know what to say to the baker now, not without prying, not without invading, not without peering past walls she might be unwilling to let down; and because he could comprehend every inch of those fortifications and ramparts, he simply lingered outside, and waited. No war in his bones. No weapons in his hands. No blood pooling in his palms. Maybe she wouldn’t say anything, and it’d be one more secret, one more schism, catalyst, and scar; he’d still bear it, one way or another.
She moved before him to glance upon the little charm, and they said didn’t speak of it. He watched it settle into her touch, a bright thing amongst luminescence, not sure whether which one pierced brighter, tilting his head a fraction to listen to her murmurs, to watch seconds unfurl. The mountain’s features did manage to flicker into something better, something warmer, when she asked about a sword, almost reached out to explain the ridiculousness of the notion (it would be something like a dagger or a neat little stiletto), and permitted his mouth to wrap in a Cheshire grin instead. The beast shook his head, one finger reaching forward, ghosting over the star. “Press here,” indicating the middle, waiting for the release.
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Deimos has made: Star Charm | A silver charm in the shape of a star. When activated, it projects a large protective barrier of starlight around the user.
with the remains?
DEIMOS
