Deimos
The Sword remained standing, occasionally exchanging glances with Zuriel, but otherwise fixed and concentrated on Darkeye’s explanations. None of it surprised him – between the attempts at lying, manipulation, and then the repercussions of the older man’s directness, cringing a little, permitting a wrinkle of his nose, to break through the reticence. “Curses do not have to be forever,” he mentioned, after a long, slow, steady breath, glancing upward at obsidian ceilings, remembering Aisha’s not lasting more than a season. “Though I am sorry for your experience with her.”
A shame, really, that his warnings hadn’t done much good.
But coming to terms and facts for himself might’ve been the best outcome for the ridiculous nature of it all. Another quiet rumble exuded from his chest, eyes back upon the cursed individual. “I have heard recently that she can use her powers within them as well,” and he’d been hoping none of that had been true. “As for the other gods, it may be in your approach and delivery.” Puncturing and piercing those notes with a head tilt. “You cannot come in making demands of them. You already know why.”
A shame, really, that his warnings hadn’t done much good.
But coming to terms and facts for himself might’ve been the best outcome for the ridiculous nature of it all. Another quiet rumble exuded from his chest, eyes back upon the cursed individual. “I have heard recently that she can use her powers within them as well,” and he’d been hoping none of that had been true. “As for the other gods, it may be in your approach and delivery.” Puncturing and piercing those notes with a head tilt. “You cannot come in making demands of them. You already know why.”
you're all bronze and bite
all venom and fistfight
all venom and fistfight
