DEIMOS
Something in the way his name resounded, on a pained gasp, on those anguished, agonizing turns, made his heart twist, sharp claws raking down his chest, coiling in his ribs. Jigano had her before he did, but otherwise there before her within an instant, the notions all spiraling out of control, confirmations between her whispers and the unmoving limbs. Even as the Sage bit and tore, delving further into magic and incantations, even as Amun gestured with the staff, even as Zuriel continued her stay on bent knees, it wasn’t enough – too much damage, too much destruction, too much harm. And as much as some inner rage began to churn and burn in the pits of his being, he had nothing and no one to pin it on.
So he swallowed it down, along with the rest of the ethers, the vestiges, the pinnacles of pain harbored within – choking and smothering so it didn’t sweep into hers, so it didn’t make everything so much worse.
His hands on her, a gentle, grasping hold (that hurt too; that maybe this would only make things worse), striving to keep her as straight as possible, to place her on the stretcher. He had no intention of injuring her further, afraid, afraid, afraid of anything and everything in those fragile beacons and moments, holding his breath as he softly extended and lowered. He didn’t even know what to say. Were they not in the presence of others, it could’ve been an allotment of things – instead he gripped his hands on the outskirts of the stretcher, prepared to lift her once someone else grabbed the other side. I have you flickered between bonds. But for how long didn’t, just a reeling conflagration bursting in his essence, eyes lifting to those willing, before always going back to her. “We will take you to the infirmary.” Drowning in every other nuance, in comfort that he couldn’t seem to trace, he waited – then carried.
- FIN for Deimos
So he swallowed it down, along with the rest of the ethers, the vestiges, the pinnacles of pain harbored within – choking and smothering so it didn’t sweep into hers, so it didn’t make everything so much worse.
His hands on her, a gentle, grasping hold (that hurt too; that maybe this would only make things worse), striving to keep her as straight as possible, to place her on the stretcher. He had no intention of injuring her further, afraid, afraid, afraid of anything and everything in those fragile beacons and moments, holding his breath as he softly extended and lowered. He didn’t even know what to say. Were they not in the presence of others, it could’ve been an allotment of things – instead he gripped his hands on the outskirts of the stretcher, prepared to lift her once someone else grabbed the other side. I have you flickered between bonds. But for how long didn’t, just a reeling conflagration bursting in his essence, eyes lifting to those willing, before always going back to her. “We will take you to the infirmary.” Drowning in every other nuance, in comfort that he couldn’t seem to trace, he waited – then carried.
- FIN for Deimos
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
