[KQ] stonewall

DEIMOS Delivered from the blasts Wessex appeared (and he masked a sigh of relief; someone with his own mindset and clarity amidst the rest of them) and it seemed as if they were all assembled: an intriguing team set about a sojourn of crisis and devastation. And no sooner had they stepped forward, hastening to derive the cause of the screams, to be saviors, confidants, or at the very least, helpful, more debris fell – careening and crashing through the already eroded plain. The tremors were unleashed beneath his feet, perhaps the only warning he received, before rocks crumbled and fumbled down the lane, an embankment losing its disposition and strength. Phoebe’s outcry wasn’t necessary; Deimos would have minded as best he could – aiming to dart out of boulders’ and stones’ paths, but Remi thudded nearby, and out of habit, automatic motions and movements, he maneuvered forward to try and cease some portion of Remi’s collision with the ground. It didn’t matter in the end, because both of them were hit; his eyes not catching the incoming boulder – distracted, deterred. So it was a shock to his system, to his figure, as the stone bounced and bounded off his right arm, skimming and grazing across it with apparent ease, as if he were nothing, as if he were not its brethren, a monolith, a patchwork of rubble and ruin. A gasp escaped his lungs as he was pushed back into the ground by the force, by the surprise, by the bewilderment, blinking once or twice as a damned inanimate object toppled him. He was already regretting the decision to even come. Phoebe appeared to be attending Remi, leaving Wessex (of all people) to check in on him. He nodded, flexing his arm back and forth, likely going to be bearing some sort of strain or vivid, ridiculous bruise, but it was still usable, feasible, for whatever would come next. “I am fine,” he muttered (pride injured and marred; a common attribute to this world), but was grateful she’d even bothered to address him; taking her hand and lifting himself off the ground. But then the rest of the world beckoned: the falling rocks allowing for an opening in the earth, an aperture, an entryway, for whatever upheaval lingered beyond. He listened, then quickly ascertain Wessex’s intentions: she could lead, Ascended eyes glowing and seeing into the darkness, and he could go in the back, leaving the other two, one injured, one clearly inexperienced, within the middle – a protective, pack force. It wasn’t to say either Remi or Phoebe were incapable, he rarely underestimated Remi and knew naught of Phoebe, but the stalwart, valorous ramparts in him leaned toward the wolf-implored strategy. “I can go behind and protect from the back,” he indicated, moving towards the fissure, waiting for everyone to agree, disagree, or simply assemble. {Deimos is distracted by trying to help Remi when he falls, and gets whacked by a rock flying by, hitting his right arm and sending him onto the ground in surprise. After he gets up, Deimos agrees with Wessex, and attempts to get them in a particular order to go into the opening.} the last of a line of lasts