DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
For all the woman’s efforts, he’d long since been immune to the potential horrors riled between the pair. He handwaved her gesture and threats away, and if she made good on her ominous wiles there was some likelihood he could pierce them away with his earth incantations, shrugging while he poured the alcohol into his glass. “I have quite enough burrs in my life already.” A very smug snicker curled in the corners of his mouth, permitting her to fill in the gaps of who or what they could be. But the beast unfolded from his previous amusements, taking the other resin back from the clutches of its cabinet, and filling that one as well.
The beast made his way back across the parlor, indifferent towards his chair being stolen – there were always more – and he handed over the container before occupying the other seat before the fire. Belial had moved since then, slipping in along the corners, curious and wily, and dropped his head on the corners of Hotaru’s arm – curious eyes widened and blatantly staring at the woman. Deimos said nothing, waiting for surprise, shock, or anything else clambering forth.
His attentions went to the drink first, taking a few swallows as the question aired. He stretched his long limbs out, withholding some length of a sigh, before leaning back, eyes flickering away from the fire, and towards the mantle – fixating on memories. On moments that felt like lifetimes before. “She asked why I felt the need to grow stronger. Told me I needed to stop looking outside myself for it.” A shrug lifted through his shoulders; waiting for some inevitable statement from Hotaru about the same thing. “Then she offered me one chance and held me by throat in the sky.” He laughed though, because it sounded ridiculous and the fact that he’d gone and done it was another multitude of lost wits and trust instilled. “Dropped me.” Little visions of ghosts springing along beside him; wraiths and phantoms and loved ones. “And out of the need for survival, I was an eagle.” Only thereafter did his gaze swing back to her, amused and shaking his head, so the wild locks rounded along in accord, a half-snort muffled in the movements.
The beast made his way back across the parlor, indifferent towards his chair being stolen – there were always more – and he handed over the container before occupying the other seat before the fire. Belial had moved since then, slipping in along the corners, curious and wily, and dropped his head on the corners of Hotaru’s arm – curious eyes widened and blatantly staring at the woman. Deimos said nothing, waiting for surprise, shock, or anything else clambering forth.
His attentions went to the drink first, taking a few swallows as the question aired. He stretched his long limbs out, withholding some length of a sigh, before leaning back, eyes flickering away from the fire, and towards the mantle – fixating on memories. On moments that felt like lifetimes before. “She asked why I felt the need to grow stronger. Told me I needed to stop looking outside myself for it.” A shrug lifted through his shoulders; waiting for some inevitable statement from Hotaru about the same thing. “Then she offered me one chance and held me by throat in the sky.” He laughed though, because it sounded ridiculous and the fact that he’d gone and done it was another multitude of lost wits and trust instilled. “Dropped me.” Little visions of ghosts springing along beside him; wraiths and phantoms and loved ones. “And out of the need for survival, I was an eagle.” Only thereafter did his gaze swing back to her, amused and shaking his head, so the wild locks rounded along in accord, a half-snort muffled in the movements.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
