my held breath fills the room with blood
hurting in ways I can't describe
Though she knows Deimos would never outright maim the man, the idea of Sunjata getting a nice good beat around his thick head is enough to satisfy her. Vows and oaths of retribution are the fodder to her serenity, and emotion eases away like tide from the sand beneath the humming growl of his voice. She too longs for the days of primordial order, of the surety in her rank, her power. Were this Helovia she would have challenged Phoebe within the hour of Sunjata's confession of her sins, would have killed or exiled her until her mortal days ceased to count upward. Would have challenged Sunjata for reasons of honor perhaps, or just to lay him beneath her heel. This world is far too civil and convoluted for her feral ways, and at times it drives her to despair. There is a simplicity to the life they used to live, and she longs for its return.
At least magic and reparations are familiar to her. The act of beseeching a god for their divine powers, begging away droplets of strength like starving vultures. If it meant Deimos' beloved would be whole again, able to walk and run and leap into his arms, Hotaru would crawl on her knees to those who have forsaken her and throw away her pride to win their favor for Amalia. There is nothing for her to do, alas. Nonetheless she nods her head and squeezes him tighter, wishing she were but larger so as to envelop him more fully. To return the feeling he had given her the day of their reunion. Instead she lays a hand gently upon his crown, tilting him forward into her collar if he so wishes. Holding and holding and holding on against the ravaging sea of unfairness that they have sailed all their lives. "We will get through this, as we always have. Together." A notion he surely understands already, but one she speaks intimately to bolster and strengthen him. Perhaps not today or tomorrow, but their success lies surely upon the horizon. Ready to be grasped and tamed.
At least magic and reparations are familiar to her. The act of beseeching a god for their divine powers, begging away droplets of strength like starving vultures. If it meant Deimos' beloved would be whole again, able to walk and run and leap into his arms, Hotaru would crawl on her knees to those who have forsaken her and throw away her pride to win their favor for Amalia. There is nothing for her to do, alas. Nonetheless she nods her head and squeezes him tighter, wishing she were but larger so as to envelop him more fully. To return the feeling he had given her the day of their reunion. Instead she lays a hand gently upon his crown, tilting him forward into her collar if he so wishes. Holding and holding and holding on against the ravaging sea of unfairness that they have sailed all their lives. "We will get through this, as we always have. Together." A notion he surely understands already, but one she speaks intimately to bolster and strengthen him. Perhaps not today or tomorrow, but their success lies surely upon the horizon. Ready to be grasped and tamed.
my heart bends and breaks
so many, many times
HOTARU
