DEIMOS
The Sword listened; back to those pinnacles of calm dispositions, breathing, another sounding board even when he didn’t have all the answers. Ferocity matching ferocity, his cool, cold dominion out in the midst of this star-emblazoned one, wouldn’t have benefitted anyone. Restless in the lack of movement and motion, he pulsed several shards of ice, into a few remaining, floating gourds, and left them hanging there, contemplating, weighing out options in the middle of tirades and riddles.
“So what do you want to hear? You cannot bear everyone’s burdens either.” Ignoring the fact that he willingly did the same; took them on his shoulders, on his spine, carried to the ends of the earth, without ever truly taking the trials and tribulations off. There were better stretches, where he could alleviate the shards, where he could shy away from the oblivion, more and more now with boundaries instilled and parameters extended. But there was lesson embedded in there for her too. “Sometimes what is said may be true, but not at the right time.” The mind took its hours, its days, its weeks; for when people were ready to hear the fruition and veracity; in his own circumstances, it was slower, needing to sink into that skull full of machinations, might, and menace. Safrin had embedded those notions into him. And it’d taken far longer – Hotaru and Aisha doing the same. A bombardment of where he should’ve been and what he should’ve been doing – healing, instead of constantly harming his own soul.
Another rumble in his chest, a phrase exuding past his mouth that he still needed to learn for himself. “We cannot fix everything.” They couldn’t change people’s actions. They couldn’t stop and cease and desist the decisions made and weighed. They couldn’t alter pathways already long since tread. Assist, defend, protect; often that was all the Sword had to his calamity, to his power, to his prestige. “And some have to find ways to do it on their own.”
But with things being set in certain ways, with a lack of understanding, with ignorance at the forefront, the General could only feel his own slinking back in. “What do you mean?” While she rallied and forged her way back up the inclining slope, the beast took hold of the Air again, lifting the pinnacles of salvageable pulp and seeds, not forgetting their intended use; bringing them upwards to eventually place in a container of some kind.
Arching his brow as she flicked the seeds and guts back onto him, and then pulsing them back in return, he still maintained his semblance of self-possessed ease. “Then ask them if, and how, they want help.” Picking a string of pulp off his tunic and tossing it her way, indifferent to where it landed, his eyes went to the ground, to the decimated ring nearby. “They might not know, but you cannot force them to adhere to what you believe is best either.”
“So what do you want to hear? You cannot bear everyone’s burdens either.” Ignoring the fact that he willingly did the same; took them on his shoulders, on his spine, carried to the ends of the earth, without ever truly taking the trials and tribulations off. There were better stretches, where he could alleviate the shards, where he could shy away from the oblivion, more and more now with boundaries instilled and parameters extended. But there was lesson embedded in there for her too. “Sometimes what is said may be true, but not at the right time.” The mind took its hours, its days, its weeks; for when people were ready to hear the fruition and veracity; in his own circumstances, it was slower, needing to sink into that skull full of machinations, might, and menace. Safrin had embedded those notions into him. And it’d taken far longer – Hotaru and Aisha doing the same. A bombardment of where he should’ve been and what he should’ve been doing – healing, instead of constantly harming his own soul.
Another rumble in his chest, a phrase exuding past his mouth that he still needed to learn for himself. “We cannot fix everything.” They couldn’t change people’s actions. They couldn’t stop and cease and desist the decisions made and weighed. They couldn’t alter pathways already long since tread. Assist, defend, protect; often that was all the Sword had to his calamity, to his power, to his prestige. “And some have to find ways to do it on their own.”
But with things being set in certain ways, with a lack of understanding, with ignorance at the forefront, the General could only feel his own slinking back in. “What do you mean?” While she rallied and forged her way back up the inclining slope, the beast took hold of the Air again, lifting the pinnacles of salvageable pulp and seeds, not forgetting their intended use; bringing them upwards to eventually place in a container of some kind.
Arching his brow as she flicked the seeds and guts back onto him, and then pulsing them back in return, he still maintained his semblance of self-possessed ease. “Then ask them if, and how, they want help.” Picking a string of pulp off his tunic and tossing it her way, indifferent to where it landed, his eyes went to the ground, to the decimated ring nearby. “They might not know, but you cannot force them to adhere to what you believe is best either.”
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
