death, you bring death and destruction to all that you touch
No promises laden from the Flood thereafter was intriguing; either he knew better than to utter it again, didn’t believe in uttering them any longer, or perceived himself capable of following through this time. The Sword gave him a nod and naught more at the accepted statement, his assurances true, steadfast, and vengeful, the protective filaments of his loved ones absolute, resolute, and indifferent towards wickedness. Maybe the fool would willingly throw his life away, grant Deimos ample opportunity to sink blades or claws directly into his throat, and that’d be the end of it. One more nuisance gone, vanquished.
Dates – weddings, celebrations, receptions, back to the domestic when the rest of the world churned, brewed, and blistered around them. He wanted naught more than to escape back out into the rain, leave, no solace here but bitter memories of dragons, of lost beings still in caves, of the Valkyrie openly sobbing, broken apart by the one standing beside him. “No,” he had no intention of staying here any longer than necessary, and remained standing rigidly by the counter, eyes going towards the rest of the bar, the posters lined on walls, the ambience of a land he had yet to entirely fathom. He paused, the moments stretched feral and tense, half-tempted to remain in silence, before curiosity formed a path. “Where are you holding it?” This bizarre wedding of three people.
Dates – weddings, celebrations, receptions, back to the domestic when the rest of the world churned, brewed, and blistered around them. He wanted naught more than to escape back out into the rain, leave, no solace here but bitter memories of dragons, of lost beings still in caves, of the Valkyrie openly sobbing, broken apart by the one standing beside him. “No,” he had no intention of staying here any longer than necessary, and remained standing rigidly by the counter, eyes going towards the rest of the bar, the posters lined on walls, the ambience of a land he had yet to entirely fathom. He paused, the moments stretched feral and tense, half-tempted to remain in silence, before curiosity formed a path. “Where are you holding it?” This bizarre wedding of three people.
DEIMOS
