Ru
He is entirely accurate in his assessment. Boredom lead more to juvenile measures and childish entrapments. Resentment and revenge had far more long-reaching and catastrophic effects. But with isolation came silence, and a lack of need for things like that. As Deimos ties his hair up, the Valkyrie follows his example, letting the dampness at the nape of her neck breathe what little it can with only humid air to meet it. “And I loathe waiting,” she agrees, wry and amused in a way only veterans can truly be, content with dark humor and the way it makes things marginally easier to bear.
As Deimos crouches to inspect a thicker lump, Hotaru laughs at the unexpected news he shares. “Just my spa hm? He’s quite good at projecting being a sour grape of a young man, but he’s a wrinkly, squishy one even so.” Like the sad, shriveled ones at the bottom of the bag that you debate the worthiness of before desperation - or lack of sense - makes you pluck it from the depths to ascertain its sweetness. Ru had always had a soft spot for those types though; her current company was proof enough. “If he is so worried about it, maybe he’ll finally take my offer of stepping through the doorway. You’d think it was a portal to the afterlife, the way he looks at it.” Tittering with amusement, the Valkyrie steps up beside Deimos and toes at the lump of magma rock with her boot. “Perhaps it’s time for a visit after all.” Even if it will be hard. It always is these days. Constantly torn by the desire to move back, even with all it would entail emotionally and politically.
As Deimos crouches to inspect a thicker lump, Hotaru laughs at the unexpected news he shares. “Just my spa hm? He’s quite good at projecting being a sour grape of a young man, but he’s a wrinkly, squishy one even so.” Like the sad, shriveled ones at the bottom of the bag that you debate the worthiness of before desperation - or lack of sense - makes you pluck it from the depths to ascertain its sweetness. Ru had always had a soft spot for those types though; her current company was proof enough. “If he is so worried about it, maybe he’ll finally take my offer of stepping through the doorway. You’d think it was a portal to the afterlife, the way he looks at it.” Tittering with amusement, the Valkyrie steps up beside Deimos and toes at the lump of magma rock with her boot. “Perhaps it’s time for a visit after all.” Even if it will be hard. It always is these days. Constantly torn by the desire to move back, even with all it would entail emotionally and politically.
In a coat of gold or of red, a lion still has claws
And mine are long and sharp, my lord
And mine are long and sharp, my lord
as long and sharp as yours
