You learn to speak so calmly

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame In another time or moment, he might’ve ripped them all down and apart. But this was Rexanna’s space, her sanctuary, her venue; not his training grounds, with weapons and machinery made to decimate, made to pulverize, made to destroy. He’d already done enough damage, and had no inclination of mucking it up any further, even if they were just pieces and portions of décor. The rest fluttered and flew, and he collected them in his grasp, placing them neatly in a pile, for Bastien to have or discard. Maybe talking about her would make things easier, but it was work to make it his jaw unclench, for it all not to sink down the back of his throat, or absorb in his skull, honing the memories and machinations for himself. But he craved another task instead of merely talking, hoping for a direction. So his gaze went elsewhere, over the other necessities, while his voice rumbled, and perhaps the barest hint of a smirk gathered in one corner of his mouth, fondness for the Penumbra unfurling through the turmoil and grief. “She gathered information, items, or people for us.” Individuals with wisdom and sagacity, things they could utilize for upcoming warfare, or merely to eliminate some irritating members of other societies. “Or protected those who were at risk of being stolen.” master of nothing place; of recoil and grace