DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
Control had always been one of his soulless talents: how long could he stand composed while the world fell apart, how long could he adhere to no emotion, to no semblance of grief, of anguish, of despair, how long could he listen to those that mocked and jeered, how little could he emote in the face of treachery, deceit, or calculations. It served him well, sometimes as nothing more than a pretense, a shuffle of features so they appeared so callously reserved one believed he was statue and stone. Then Caido picked and tore it apart, little by little, with the distortions, the cracks, the fissures, the acceptance, the tolerance of who he was or could be – and he had to find new ways to brandish it, to harness it, to unleash it. Calm, stoic waves as he turned towards storms, not sinking into ghosts and phantoms when they neared, tracing over foundations and enamels with new understandings, new comprehension, of where he might be lingering. Did Sunjata have any of that now? He could see the lie written in his jaw, in the sigh, but couldn’t do anything for him. There were choices laden, borne, into the soil and earth, into the indiscrete parameters, choking, smothering, suffocating, and perhaps the other man was determined to anchor himself in that threshold until he drowned.
Instead of anything else murmured, collected, or explained, there were apologies, movements to adhere towards ramps, maledictions no one had foretold or seen coming. A careful nod orchestrated along his head, and then he took up the hammer again, nails slammed into place, securing, endeavoring, intending to prosper something out of the shambles, out of the wreckage. The smallest of smiles curled along his mouth, a glance from the corner of his eye as he adjusted some portions of the timber and began to start once more. “Then you probably should,” fondness for the Shield and her convictions, her faith, her credence, even if he didn’t share them as wholeheartedly. “She would be happy to tell you anything about the goddess.” At the offer of a spar, the smile drifted downward, uncertain of where his calamities should’ve been resting. He’d been occupying a majority of his time by purposefully distracting himself: unfurling the inclines and slopes around town, around the house, hunting, wandering aimlessly, perhaps more adrift than he’d been before. “Thank you. I will let you know.”
Unite and spread the heart apart
