near half-empty

Deimos Control and composure were something he’d always prided himself on; built and fortified when worlds collided and tempers rang, when he could transform into a living, breathing weapon, or a manifested glacier – ice cold, chilling, a calculating maelstrom of contained menace. He just didn’t have that range over anything else in their constantly shifting lives – and it was wearing, tearing, to strive forward and see nothing come of it. He dug in when he had naught else to give, a stubborn, tenacious sort of rock and rubble, ruin from mountains, from summits, from currents, tossed ashore when it didn’t want his presence either. Libbs surpassed his expectations on this front though – where so many didn’t bother reading into his keen, obtuse, or finalized statements, or simply knew better – she pressed. His eyes narrowed dangerously, but they were staring at the ground, at the leaf debris, at things circumventing and spiraling out from underneath him. A certain layer of vehemence curled and clawed along his veins, but not in her direction or presence, but at himself. He shouldn’t have said anything at all; kept to his rooted stance of minimal discourse and let the lands drift around and by. The General swallowed down all the potential nuances, ruminations, and explanations he could’ve made: but none of them yearned to be relived, and he didn’t want to ruin this earth for her either. You will see soon enough wasn’t exactly a promising conviction to live by. Sometimes, no matter what you do, it will not matter wasn’t an awe-inspiring comment either. So he shook his head, aware in his struggles to find common ground with half the population when all they wanted to do was talk and all he wanted to do was tuck himself into shadows, remember what it was like to breathe, to be strong. “Where did you come from?” An entirely new topic, obliterating the other for something safer, something not grinding or perilous; broad, calloused hands still picking apart and combing through the fronds, gaze remaining on the gathered veins and split-apart vines. Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime