DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
Finally, it was just a time for them.
Cataclysm after cataclysm, with little repose in between, only further insinuated they’d have to carve out pieces of peace on their own terms. A recovery from the latest blunders, scarce, stretched moments across vast, open seas, and nothing so damned, so deplorable, on the horizon. While the spring had often rendered them busy, beyond their regrets, rues, trials, tribulations, and melancholy, there were far more opportunities here, in the rise of tides and oceans, than to brew and brood in the grounds left behind.
He wanted to forget, for a few hours and days and weeks, those brutal, barbaric things left behind. Indifferent towards Fiat Lux, after last year’s series of debacles, the beast figured they wouldn’t be missed from any of the festivities – sending their contributions towards whichever land chose to host.
Rented boats and picnics upon the sand, beneath wide-open skies, oars cutting through the waves, precision, might, and strength forged in the undulation of muscles, in the ripple of tides, eventually brought them to the rise of dunes. A smile, and some modicum of relief, both absent since LongNight’s fangs crept over them, appeared upon his features. His gaze swept towards the island before them, a notch in several nearby, scrutinizing gaze taking in the rapture, the reverie, of worlds beyond the one they’d left behind. The rumble of his vocals unfurled from his chest, lifting the oar out of the water, arching a brow, waiting for her approval. “Suitable?”
Cataclysm after cataclysm, with little repose in between, only further insinuated they’d have to carve out pieces of peace on their own terms. A recovery from the latest blunders, scarce, stretched moments across vast, open seas, and nothing so damned, so deplorable, on the horizon. While the spring had often rendered them busy, beyond their regrets, rues, trials, tribulations, and melancholy, there were far more opportunities here, in the rise of tides and oceans, than to brew and brood in the grounds left behind.
He wanted to forget, for a few hours and days and weeks, those brutal, barbaric things left behind. Indifferent towards Fiat Lux, after last year’s series of debacles, the beast figured they wouldn’t be missed from any of the festivities – sending their contributions towards whichever land chose to host.
Rented boats and picnics upon the sand, beneath wide-open skies, oars cutting through the waves, precision, might, and strength forged in the undulation of muscles, in the ripple of tides, eventually brought them to the rise of dunes. A smile, and some modicum of relief, both absent since LongNight’s fangs crept over them, appeared upon his features. His gaze swept towards the island before them, a notch in several nearby, scrutinizing gaze taking in the rapture, the reverie, of worlds beyond the one they’d left behind. The rumble of his vocals unfurled from his chest, lifting the oar out of the water, arching a brow, waiting for her approval. “Suitable?”
I belong to you
the way the moon belongs to the stars
the way the moon belongs to the stars
