DEIMOS
He missed – missed, missed, missed, like everything else in life, his scorecard a mismatch of sieges and assaults gone correctly, and those slashing, tearing, burning him awry. Aren’t you tired of losing? the earth mustered, burned, seared against his soul. He only had half a moment to seethe though, intending to arch upwards, reposition where he could best try again (because one could always say something derogatory about the beast, but at least he strived). By then Jigano had already shifted, an ivory equine now, the blight still readily apparent in his movements, and before Deimos had the ability to fly off into a safer zone, a hoof came into his view.
It was a heavy, heady cast of pain suddenly binding his senses, sending him scattering off to the right, bewildered and rattled, not in a form readily capable of taking vicious vehemence (not like his human form, bulky and monstrous, a monolith well-conformed to war and weaponry). The sharp lancing of anguish and demolition echoed along his chest, a rasping breath as Amalia called out to him – and he stayed on the ground for a moment, catching the rough inhale, the grasping exhale, before shaking his head. She couldn’t worry about him – she had other things to watch out for – Jigano still in his festering, decaying, wilting stupefaction, or the rose’s roots needing to take hold. I am fine ricocheted, even if he wasn’t.
His eyes segmented briefly to Remi, but he seemed to have it together against Kiada – and his attention riveted straight to the chaos once more. With no thought to himself, he dug into the earth, scraping up dirt and loam beneath the snow, grasping hold of their granules in his talons as best he could, before taking flight again, the wince of pain evident in his movements and motions, not quite as graceful, rising, rising, rising into the air. Then he plummeted, a wake of speed and barbarity, intending to release the soil, clay, or silt from his grasp and into Jigano’s face; a distraction, a deterrent – stare noticing the swoop and flail of the stem and its thorns. He continued his descent, surging downwards, towards the ground, then away, away, away, desperately aching to reach the stalk, to grasp it in his talons.
--
Deimos is hit along his chest by Jigano’s hoof. He attempts to grab some dirt and throw it in Jigano’s eyes, before trying to grab the stem.
It was a heavy, heady cast of pain suddenly binding his senses, sending him scattering off to the right, bewildered and rattled, not in a form readily capable of taking vicious vehemence (not like his human form, bulky and monstrous, a monolith well-conformed to war and weaponry). The sharp lancing of anguish and demolition echoed along his chest, a rasping breath as Amalia called out to him – and he stayed on the ground for a moment, catching the rough inhale, the grasping exhale, before shaking his head. She couldn’t worry about him – she had other things to watch out for – Jigano still in his festering, decaying, wilting stupefaction, or the rose’s roots needing to take hold. I am fine ricocheted, even if he wasn’t.
His eyes segmented briefly to Remi, but he seemed to have it together against Kiada – and his attention riveted straight to the chaos once more. With no thought to himself, he dug into the earth, scraping up dirt and loam beneath the snow, grasping hold of their granules in his talons as best he could, before taking flight again, the wince of pain evident in his movements and motions, not quite as graceful, rising, rising, rising into the air. Then he plummeted, a wake of speed and barbarity, intending to release the soil, clay, or silt from his grasp and into Jigano’s face; a distraction, a deterrent – stare noticing the swoop and flail of the stem and its thorns. He continued his descent, surging downwards, towards the ground, then away, away, away, desperately aching to reach the stalk, to grasp it in his talons.
--
Deimos is hit along his chest by Jigano’s hoof. He attempts to grab some dirt and throw it in Jigano’s eyes, before trying to grab the stem.
gatekeeper of an endless war
where lines between right and wrong
don't exist anymore
