we're all killers
An agreement immersed; but Deimos wouldn’t begrudge Jigano either. For the most part, they’d been fine – from intentional flour catastrophes, to fringes of wisdom, sagacity, and plotting passed between the pair. But there had been instances, like when Amalia had been captured, where the Reaper (though incensed and maddened too) had glimpsed moments and sides he hadn’t particularly liked. Perhaps the same could’ve been said for him – normally steadfast and stoic, but openly hostile, tempestuous, and acrimonious the moment the baker, the Harpy, and any of his other companions had been threatened. Jigano hadn’t taken the blame then; his head might have lowered, mistakes might’ve been made, and he hadn’t permitted the monolith to go after them on his own, no matter which argument or how many hackles Deimos had raised. Why? Because of guilt, because of restoration, because of glory?
They’d mended their acrimony soon after, but it seared against him once more, now, now, now, in the thick of other stratagems. “We have been fine, until now. I have always valued his knowledge and wisdom. He has ideas, which is far more than many individuals here.” Jigano had a way of instigating and curating curiosity, inveigling and grasping at the merest of straws; Deimos had granted him some particles, some nuances, but not everything. Never everything – the stone walls too high, the fortifications too immersed. He played it like a game, to see how long he could dangle information before the bard until he gave up entirely; because secrets were secrets, and his business was often just that: his.
“He implied I lacked courage or strength.” He didn’t wince at the words, but let them billow in the blows of Remi’s so-called faults and flaws; the drumbeats precarious and ominous. The warrior didn’t know much of Remi beyond what the other man allowed: and the beast didn’t pry, didn’t nose around, didn’t dig for events and circumstances. But if he lived his life differently from that of the Loreseeker, what was the problem? Should they all masquerade on pretenses, inquire impertinently until someone gave in? Naïve lingered in his mind, but when he looked back at Remi, he wondered if was just a way Jigano could condescend, patronize, and demean. If there were so many others twists and turns they hadn’t seen, hadn’t stumbled upon –
And that most recent meeting, an echo of Remi’s observations…”Maybe we were all taken in.” He breathed, an infusion of sharp, chilling air whipping along the outside of the stand; intentionally snagging a step over a mercurial line. “So what do we want to do about it?”
They’d mended their acrimony soon after, but it seared against him once more, now, now, now, in the thick of other stratagems. “We have been fine, until now. I have always valued his knowledge and wisdom. He has ideas, which is far more than many individuals here.” Jigano had a way of instigating and curating curiosity, inveigling and grasping at the merest of straws; Deimos had granted him some particles, some nuances, but not everything. Never everything – the stone walls too high, the fortifications too immersed. He played it like a game, to see how long he could dangle information before the bard until he gave up entirely; because secrets were secrets, and his business was often just that: his.
“He implied I lacked courage or strength.” He didn’t wince at the words, but let them billow in the blows of Remi’s so-called faults and flaws; the drumbeats precarious and ominous. The warrior didn’t know much of Remi beyond what the other man allowed: and the beast didn’t pry, didn’t nose around, didn’t dig for events and circumstances. But if he lived his life differently from that of the Loreseeker, what was the problem? Should they all masquerade on pretenses, inquire impertinently until someone gave in? Naïve lingered in his mind, but when he looked back at Remi, he wondered if was just a way Jigano could condescend, patronize, and demean. If there were so many others twists and turns they hadn’t seen, hadn’t stumbled upon –
And that most recent meeting, an echo of Remi’s observations…”Maybe we were all taken in.” He breathed, an infusion of sharp, chilling air whipping along the outside of the stand; intentionally snagging a step over a mercurial line. “So what do we want to do about it?”
DEIMOS
