death, you bring death and destruction to all that you touch
But what could Safrin do, that she couldn’t have tried before? It was a complexity, a web, a multitude of theories, problems, and dilemmas, that likely weren’t going to have any good endings. The Flood was stalling – much in the way all of them were. But the rest of them weren’t out ruining relationships, battering apart friendships, and breaking apart at the seams because of it. “Then how is Safrin supposed to take care of him?” A dive into the unknown, with more bridges and enigmas, and all of it felt like a lost cause before it ever began. If the Voice was gone? And with his further ascension –
The Sword bit down on his own jaw, felt it clench and feather, thought about Kiada, Bastien, Azrael, and the whole rest of them. But Deimos would never wander toward chosen gods and disciples, asking for the individuals to be changed, to be altered, or to guarantee something that could only be bought and paid for in lives exchanged. It was just as unfair to whatever child Sunjata had sired, then it had been to Nate and Hotaru.
The Harpy had made her choice. So had the Penumbra. So had all of the rest of them. So had he.
He didn’t even bother conveying a hint of irritation at the snap – billowing away the abhorrence; it’d been clear, it’d been concise, it’d been direct. He ignored it for its worth – nearly nothing – taking another drink, and raising the glass to his esteemed generosity, absorbing the moment, collecting back the sinister webs and eaves of his nefarious heart. At the declaration of not being like the General, Sunjata only earned a head tilt. “That much is obvious.” He was fairly certain the Flood had never thought out anything in his entire life.
But he’d certainly earned this berating – whether within the confines of his home, out in the wayward storm, or somewhere else. “I will do what I can for Kiada, with her permission. If she asks for help, I will give it to the best of my ability.” Much as he’d done for her on LongNights; capable of giving and granting and assisting, but only when she called for it. Glass back on the table, he watched the fool flutter around his kitchen – all his trying, all his efforts, all his trials and tribulations – and for what? Calm and composed again, the Colossus drummed his fingers against the resin, contemplating, shrugging away the high horse comment with evident dismissal. “Does that make it better? That you did it unintentionally – but still without their consent?”
The Sword bit down on his own jaw, felt it clench and feather, thought about Kiada, Bastien, Azrael, and the whole rest of them. But Deimos would never wander toward chosen gods and disciples, asking for the individuals to be changed, to be altered, or to guarantee something that could only be bought and paid for in lives exchanged. It was just as unfair to whatever child Sunjata had sired, then it had been to Nate and Hotaru.
The Harpy had made her choice. So had the Penumbra. So had all of the rest of them. So had he.
He didn’t even bother conveying a hint of irritation at the snap – billowing away the abhorrence; it’d been clear, it’d been concise, it’d been direct. He ignored it for its worth – nearly nothing – taking another drink, and raising the glass to his esteemed generosity, absorbing the moment, collecting back the sinister webs and eaves of his nefarious heart. At the declaration of not being like the General, Sunjata only earned a head tilt. “That much is obvious.” He was fairly certain the Flood had never thought out anything in his entire life.
But he’d certainly earned this berating – whether within the confines of his home, out in the wayward storm, or somewhere else. “I will do what I can for Kiada, with her permission. If she asks for help, I will give it to the best of my ability.” Much as he’d done for her on LongNights; capable of giving and granting and assisting, but only when she called for it. Glass back on the table, he watched the fool flutter around his kitchen – all his trying, all his efforts, all his trials and tribulations – and for what? Calm and composed again, the Colossus drummed his fingers against the resin, contemplating, shrugging away the high horse comment with evident dismissal. “Does that make it better? That you did it unintentionally – but still without their consent?”
DEIMOS
