[KQ] stonewall

DEIMOS Delivered from the blasts The finale was an all-encompassing barrage of movement, motion, and enigmas: the aches and pains he bore naught compared to the onslaught of earth spirits crashing and smashing, summoned by Phoebe (and how; because no gods had ever listened to him), made him utterly useless along the magnitude of its might. He was just one more witness as it lay waste to the tentacles, jaw slightly agape in wonder, transfixed by the power undulating, destruction and mayhem clattering all around their heads, beneath Remi’s woven shield, beneath the breaking boughs and careening walls. So he did the only thing he could do – limping and sliding over to Remi’s side, encouraging the alchemist’s shoulder to linger across his own, bearing his weight, carrying him along the floor, out into the sun, another “Thank you,” prospered on his tongue, for too many things, for too many moments, for too many shards and damage collected in their wake. He cannot accurately express the acknowledgments as they spiraled around his exhausted brain – but their tattered wares and misshapen group have done it, haven’t died, haven’t been desecrate in the dust. His eyes go to Isla too, proffering another hand of support, and then they shifted into the void, towards the screams and hollowed, niches, outlined halls and walls. The tunnel widened and opened, an aperture of light and sun that he lifted his face towards – then shifted vehemently along the outlines of those before them. They were an assemblage of familiar faces (and his heart throbbed, ached, at the sight of some: Amalia, Rory, Jigano, blistered and torn), some not, a crushed merchant on the ground, Delah and a number of Fae clustered into broken armaments. “Our friends are injured,” he murmured to Remi, presuming he still couldn’t see – roaming closer and closer, knowing full well who he wanted to go to first, but who required the most attention? “Phoebe,” he echoed and growled, a beast of action when he couldn’t be in that damned cave, “Go to that one,” and he pointed towards Are – a stranger gasping for breath – while he rumbled towards Delah, his eyes searching for Amalia (she could walk, she could walk, she was fine), nodding and imploring she somehow assist too…a mess amidst more rubble and ruin. the last of a line of lasts