death, you bring death and destruction to all that you touch
His hatred for that inane, stupid man would probably always reign supreme. How he managed an entire land was far beyond Deimos’ calculations, considering the way in which the Flood lived his life. But he’d won this round, by the shackles tethering and bonding the pair of them, too lost in their wrath. How many times had he uttered that neither Sunjata or Nate had been worth it? And he hadn’t even followed his own damned advice. So he said nothing, letting the edges simmer and sink into those inward wounds, where they could settle in and amongst the rest.
The Sword’s jaw clenched once more as his eyes went to her bracelet, to the machinations suddenly bounding through his head. “I can inform her. She may not know.” And maybe the Kraai would be allowed to be searched, peeled apart layer by layer, until the seedy, scumbag nuances were found. A snarl pressed across his mouth, his stare rounding back to the earth. “What a disgusting human being.” No morals. No ethics. Permitted to do as he pleased because of the way he’d laid out his foundations. Through corruption, greed, and rampant idiocy.
But Hotaru’s words drifted over his mind too: for all the stories of Neron, of the Eirachi, of ties to Zariah, of being taken out of his position of power, Morgan had still found him worth keeping within the world. In his limited interactions with the Ascended, Deimos hadn’t seen anything of note. Nothing impressive. Just another man who’d managed to somehow carve his way back into the ice.
And maybe the Sword was trying to do the same. So he sighed into the Valkyrie’s calculations and plots, remembering days of old. “I did ask Safrin if she would object to someone else, another Old God follower, in her place. If I could not convince - ” He didn’t finish. The statement was cut off, and he thought again of being banished from the snow, from the sea, with very little else to turn to. More earth taken, more questions than answers. “But we have done enough damage.”
The Sword’s jaw clenched once more as his eyes went to her bracelet, to the machinations suddenly bounding through his head. “I can inform her. She may not know.” And maybe the Kraai would be allowed to be searched, peeled apart layer by layer, until the seedy, scumbag nuances were found. A snarl pressed across his mouth, his stare rounding back to the earth. “What a disgusting human being.” No morals. No ethics. Permitted to do as he pleased because of the way he’d laid out his foundations. Through corruption, greed, and rampant idiocy.
But Hotaru’s words drifted over his mind too: for all the stories of Neron, of the Eirachi, of ties to Zariah, of being taken out of his position of power, Morgan had still found him worth keeping within the world. In his limited interactions with the Ascended, Deimos hadn’t seen anything of note. Nothing impressive. Just another man who’d managed to somehow carve his way back into the ice.
And maybe the Sword was trying to do the same. So he sighed into the Valkyrie’s calculations and plots, remembering days of old. “I did ask Safrin if she would object to someone else, another Old God follower, in her place. If I could not convince - ” He didn’t finish. The statement was cut off, and he thought again of being banished from the snow, from the sea, with very little else to turn to. More earth taken, more questions than answers. “But we have done enough damage.”
DEIMOS
