Deimos
Long and swift strides made short work of the walk in between houses, rinsing and repeating the methods and modes of movement and motions – placing some along steps, pretending, perhaps, not to be fixing a rickety wooden frame or porch along the way with minor incantations. It gave him something to orchestrate while waiting for the courier to apply his efforts, and before long they’d completed a trip down a row of the street, figuring they had one or two more homes before he’d have to refill the sled.
Zuriel tilted her head in a very imperial gesture towards Talyson, then gave a hardy snort and moved on, picking at something beneath the ground. Belial continued to watch and survey – clearly biding his moment – as the inquiry came forward. The General had half-expected it, glancing over his shoulder once, before turning back to witness where he was treading.
The monsters always brought forth some horrific memories, a system of traumatic events spiraling one right after the other. Partaking in them ensured others could grow from his experiences, though, which was likely the only reason he shared them. “Some were invisible. Others took different forms.” The former he found much more dangerous and alarming – blending into the darkness, giving no signs, no signals, no impending warnings. There was a pause thereafter, a habitual clench to his jaw that signaled discomfort in the next semblance of recounted images. Rexanna, specifically, in multiple instances. “Usually manipulative.” Echoing words and vicious screams, begging and pleading with the voice of another – a snare, a trap outside of safe, enclosed walls. Until they weren’t anymore. “They would try to lure you out by pretending to be a loved one.”
Zuriel tilted her head in a very imperial gesture towards Talyson, then gave a hardy snort and moved on, picking at something beneath the ground. Belial continued to watch and survey – clearly biding his moment – as the inquiry came forward. The General had half-expected it, glancing over his shoulder once, before turning back to witness where he was treading.
The monsters always brought forth some horrific memories, a system of traumatic events spiraling one right after the other. Partaking in them ensured others could grow from his experiences, though, which was likely the only reason he shared them. “Some were invisible. Others took different forms.” The former he found much more dangerous and alarming – blending into the darkness, giving no signs, no signals, no impending warnings. There was a pause thereafter, a habitual clench to his jaw that signaled discomfort in the next semblance of recounted images. Rexanna, specifically, in multiple instances. “Usually manipulative.” Echoing words and vicious screams, begging and pleading with the voice of another – a snare, a trap outside of safe, enclosed walls. Until they weren’t anymore. “They would try to lure you out by pretending to be a loved one.”
we exhume our enemy's bones
we are battling, hungry beasts
we are battling, hungry beasts
