[PQ] with our backs against the wall

D e i m o s

Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass

Hours passed, muscles burned, arms ached, but the feeling of success, of triumph, of victory, as he backed up, as he surveyed their work, made the depths of a true smile christen his cheeks, his lips. “Look at that,” he acclaimed, dusting his hands off, suddenly incredibly proud of a damned tunnel running through Amalia’s basement. They’d progressed, without folly, without trial, without tribulation, and if that wasn’t worth a break, he didn’t know what was. He made sure to clap each of them on the back for good measure. “I am impressed.” And the Reaper was; it wasn’t a kingdom, it wasn’t a conquest, but felt like sedition spreading through walls and stones, it felt like breaking apart some of the structure, some of the stanzas, some of the tyranny. Small. Miniscule. Minute. But eventually, it’d be worth every ounce of labor and force they’d put into it. He was grateful for all of them. The beast maneuvered back to the table, manuevering the layers of his mane into a bun, chording it off with spare thread, before pouring himself, and anyone else who required it, a glass of water. He’d save the toasts for later, when they were done, when the mission was completed, when they had a chance to survey their furtive motions and motives. But while he munched on a scone, the seasonal flavor and Amalia’s abilities simmering on his tongue, he calculated. “All we have left is going up,” and his dark eyes glanced into the shadows of this cavernous outreach. Up towards the prison. Up towards the cells. Up towards where they’d be able to free someone from the depths of Zariah’s clutches. “Once we remove the dirt, we will have to support the sides.” Which would be trickier. “Which also means we will need some ladders.” And more wood. He surveyed what they had left – pondering how much more he’d have to find. But once they’d settled, once they’d had their break, once the hours had passed and they were somewhat refreshed, he grabbed ahold of the timber, lingering at the prospects of the finale. “Are we ready?” Fueled by their earlier accomplishments, the fatigue, the work, the task didn’t seem so daunting. -- Remi to shift the dirt first, then we’ll need more beams for the support, and for ladders! One last push! We’re almost done! For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate