[KQ] stonewall

DEIMOS Delivered from the blasts Cacophonies and exchanges, a blending and lending of power and contribution: this was how chaos unfurled and then restored itself, with people, with intonations, with powers and prestige. It was a strange, eerie, enigmatic sensation of sanctuary, even as they were barely outside the cave, even as they could hardly breathe, even as they traversed, stumbled, and bombarded their way to those lost, rescued, and escaped. He nodded his weary thanks to many as they passed by, proffering an extension to Wessex for her loud declarations and proclamations, for Phoebe, who granted and twisted her own sense of munitions, for Jigano, a wry smile, because the bard truly didn’t owe him anything. The one he owed was fighting off waves of exhaustion, and as Amalia came forth, offering her services (his jaw clenched, his heart was an unsettled, riotous thing), Deimos bent down, lingered along Remi’s side. “They are safe,” he murmured, allowing the alchemist his opportunity to be done with the entire affair. Then he shuffled him back into his arms, intending to carry him the rest of the journey home. As he rose, his eyes cast around the scene again – trying to identify if there was anyone else at a loss, without aid, without someone to guide them to safety. He followed after Wessex’s bark, providing one of his own, loud and booming, prospered deep from his bruised and beaten chest. “Everyone set?” Then they could go to further havens and sanctuaries, heal properly, rest, until the next pandemonium, the next rising interval of bedlam and menace. the last of a line of lasts