DEIMOS
we've all got blood on our hands
something somewhere had to die
so we could stay alive
Deimos had always held back; a stoic enterprise, where one couldn’t read the other, where an enemy had no idea what he was contemplating, calculating, or devising, where an adversary didn’t know which direction he’d turn until it was too late. His features sculpted into absolute indifference and apathy had saved him a multitude of times: no one had seen the carnage, the fire tempered behind frost and chill, behind wintry abyss, behind cold voids – and he resumed all those ramparts with those he didn’t know well. It was a composed reserve, carefully constructed and poised until he comprehended, until he understood, until he could drop defenses and walls and fortifications around those he trusted and respected: a number of them had already seen his grin, his mischief, other overtures besides the opus of unattainable, unreachable denizens, but they were family, friends, and loved ones. Oliver wasn’t lumped into any of those categories. Especially when he asked for advice, but seemed to have little use in listening beyond seething, disagreeing, or staring at him with wide eyes and no ability to process things on his own. “That is your choice,” if he wished to ultimately abandon his illusion capabilities, if they were to be ignored, wasted, settled only into the lay of the land when threatened, when he couldn’t contort or control them any longer. “However, illusions could always be used for art, aesthetics, entertainments, and diversions. You could utilize it during Fiat Lux. Get creative.” He could put on shows, on displays, craft amusements in mirages and images; instead of miring, mooring, and tying himself into only defensive postures, running the risk of damaging or scaring his companions. A portion of the Sword yearned to encourage the youth to think for himself, to experience more than just what others told him, to go out and do, to try, to commit to whims beyond secondhand knowledge. “You are welcome to experiment on the training grounds.”
