DEIMOS
The aftermath wasn’t bloody, but it stung and lacerated and burned all the same. Configurations made in cycles and circles of hurt, of anguish, pivoting and reeling off one another as far as he could breathe, could exist, staring off into the expanse. The sea glistened ahead; like remnants of worlds he couldn’t have and shouldn’t have even bothered craving, but that semblance of longing pooled in his chest – simply because he’d known how that one operated. Had been able to maul and mutilate, had been able to brutalize and bombard, because enemies were enemies, because adversaries were adversaries, and vengeance was keen, crystal clear.
Nothing really was any longer, save for the visible line of pursuits.
“You were right, in some regards,” Deimos murmured to her, while they pressed their way and wandered along the shoal of ice, out of the Citadel, out of reach of prying eyes, out of reach of the whispers already circulating about his dismissal. “Nor did I get very far after admitting about the fire.” There’d been no time to even try and convince – not with the layers of pain, not with the scalding of confessions, not with betrayal seeming to rise out of the fathoms like an asp.
The Sword’s gaze rose to Belial, searching and lingering overhead, peering along glacial manifestations for that long lost soul they’d once heard below the depths. Zuriel, for her part, remained uncertain about where she should be – especially in regards to Hotaru – and in the end, placed her muzzle on the Valkyrie’s shoulder. “It all felt pointless,” (and heartbreaking) came a quieter murmur from his chest, lifting into the air on puffs of warmth, like billowing smoke, like clustered abominations, like obvious mistakes.
Nothing really was any longer, save for the visible line of pursuits.
“You were right, in some regards,” Deimos murmured to her, while they pressed their way and wandered along the shoal of ice, out of the Citadel, out of reach of prying eyes, out of reach of the whispers already circulating about his dismissal. “Nor did I get very far after admitting about the fire.” There’d been no time to even try and convince – not with the layers of pain, not with the scalding of confessions, not with betrayal seeming to rise out of the fathoms like an asp.
The Sword’s gaze rose to Belial, searching and lingering overhead, peering along glacial manifestations for that long lost soul they’d once heard below the depths. Zuriel, for her part, remained uncertain about where she should be – especially in regards to Hotaru – and in the end, placed her muzzle on the Valkyrie’s shoulder. “It all felt pointless,” (and heartbreaking) came a quieter murmur from his chest, lifting into the air on puffs of warmth, like billowing smoke, like clustered abominations, like obvious mistakes.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
