God help the outcasts, the tattered, the torn
Seeking an answer to why they were born
Deimos (predictably) took the hit without stumbling or wailing in pain; Bastien found that as he drew his fist back he found this both to be frustrating and comforting. He wanted someone to hurt for the crime that had been committed, but someone that could be hurt without too serious a consequence. Unfortunately for Deimos, he fit that description and had something to do with Rexanna's death.
"All of us? You really thought Safrin would want to protect all of us?" He asked incredulously, the implication obvious: That it should have been clear the Old Goddess would not make a protection for the Ascended, that she would be happy to toss them aside. Bastien had been waiting for years for his retribution from the starry Goddess and he supposed in an indirect way, she had delivered it now.
Oh, then he had clearly hit a nerve. While Bastien knew that Deimos and Rexanna had been close, in that moment it just smarted against his pain. He wanted to own the grief, not let anyone else share in it, especially not someone with a hand in her death. "Your wife certainly speaks against the Ascended often enough. I'm sure she will be thrilled to see you in the ranks." He spat, looking to hurt more than to make points, to debate: Bastien was finding depths of petty cruelty in himself he'd never know existed before.
"All of us? You really thought Safrin would want to protect all of us?" He asked incredulously, the implication obvious: That it should have been clear the Old Goddess would not make a protection for the Ascended, that she would be happy to toss them aside. Bastien had been waiting for years for his retribution from the starry Goddess and he supposed in an indirect way, she had delivered it now.
Oh, then he had clearly hit a nerve. While Bastien knew that Deimos and Rexanna had been close, in that moment it just smarted against his pain. He wanted to own the grief, not let anyone else share in it, especially not someone with a hand in her death. "Your wife certainly speaks against the Ascended often enough. I'm sure she will be thrilled to see you in the ranks." He spat, looking to hurt more than to make points, to debate: Bastien was finding depths of petty cruelty in himself he'd never know existed before.
Winds of misfortune have blown them about
You made the outcasts, don't cast them out
BASTIEN
