DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
Patient and composed, forbearing, tolerant, and often resigned, Deimos didn’t dig any further into the horrors of LongNight, the ominous potentials, and the unfortunate possibilities. They wouldn’t need to be spelled out for Bastien anyway. But perhaps this would be the last one, embittered and scorched, treacherous and lethal, and the Grounds would be freed of the noxious, binding touch of the Voice’s experiments – no more freedom, liberation, or deliverance for fiends only seeking annihilation. One less nightmare in a world full of them. It was not like the Sword to be hopeful; but perhaps this once he could be for those striving to embark into the dark.
“I am aware,” instigated the slightest of smirks, though it dimmed thereafter. Fire, while maintaining the safety of the implementing individual. His first thoughts were something like a cannon, capable of shooting semblances of flames from a distant range; but he could not imagine Wessex attempting to haul it while teleporting. Something lighter, more manageable. Another notion to think about. “I will mull it over.” A pause, pondering, wondering, shrugging his shoulders. “Was there anything else?” Needed, required?
His attention hadn’t truly wavered from Azrael’s movement and motions either; watching from the corner of his eye as the youth seemed to study and examine his sketches, then rendered their own notes. He hid the snort of amusement, quelling it in his chest, and when done with his records, entries, and reminders, turned back to the Ascended child. “Have you found some place for improvements?” A quirk of his brow, and the lightest of smiles followed – eager to see what sort of mind Rexanna’s offspring had, and where his plans, his construction, his modes of thought could be refined and enhanced as well.
“I am aware,” instigated the slightest of smirks, though it dimmed thereafter. Fire, while maintaining the safety of the implementing individual. His first thoughts were something like a cannon, capable of shooting semblances of flames from a distant range; but he could not imagine Wessex attempting to haul it while teleporting. Something lighter, more manageable. Another notion to think about. “I will mull it over.” A pause, pondering, wondering, shrugging his shoulders. “Was there anything else?” Needed, required?
His attention hadn’t truly wavered from Azrael’s movement and motions either; watching from the corner of his eye as the youth seemed to study and examine his sketches, then rendered their own notes. He hid the snort of amusement, quelling it in his chest, and when done with his records, entries, and reminders, turned back to the Ascended child. “Have you found some place for improvements?” A quirk of his brow, and the lightest of smiles followed – eager to see what sort of mind Rexanna’s offspring had, and where his plans, his construction, his modes of thought could be refined and enhanced as well.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
