[PQ] Raise the Roost

D e i m o s

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

Deimos’ nonchalance remained firm, taut, and fierce, a feral glimpse of the Helovian beast and king; utterly removed, detached, apathetic – a tethered indifference breaching the lines between Sage and Sword. Any bitterness, any rancor, on his part was not addressed or even bothered with, here entirely for one purpose, and it wasn’t to lance barbs or lacerate more nettles into each other’s skin. It was unfortunate if Jigano felt otherwise, and Deimos proffered not a single outward sign of any other predilections. In fact, his attention waned completely away from the blighted bard, and over to Hotaru, barely smothering a smirk, a chuckle, as she (of all people; mistress of charisma and charm from thief interludes and monarch days) was rebuffed and scorned, cast aside. His eyes flickered to her very briefly, cheeky, before glancing off towards the other newcomer, Loren, granting one of his militia nods, a representation of trust and comradery. Then it seemed their assembly was complete. His gaze returned to Jigano on the air of instructions, listening keenly, a necessity for a stronger perch – that they could agree on. There was no need for it to topple or be repaired amidst Long Night’s fractious, frenetic nightmares if they constructed it properly (a blistering conviction and aspiration he likely had no right to bestow, but precision had its place, and they could at least try). They required larger trees, massive things to support a fiery bird, and the only issue could’ve been the way they’d drag them all back. He eyed his wares, then, gilded glow in his palms, concocted and created four lengthy carts, one for each of them, to hopefully bear the weight and breadth of incoming timber. Each were granted handles and some sturdy wheels for meandering over non-existent paths. Before they spread out, the beast proffered the carts, and then set out, determination in his jaw, in his movements, in his entity. As they pressed into the woods, he strayed away from them, glancing over his shoulder to make a face at Hotaru (impish), leaving his cart beside a smaller tree, ax in hand. Then he shifted, feathers and plumage, wings and talons, ascending straight into canopies, munitions tucked into his grasp, where he could search quicker, a more efficient approach, pinpointing locations and requirements, hoping to find some timber already felled, so he wouldn’t have to maul something still living. As luck would have it, there happened to be one resting in a copse, having pulled down a number of others in the glade, an opening of sunshine pressing in on fallen snow.  It was likely just wide and tall and sturdy enough to handle some bulk and power, and as he landed, shifting back to his human form, he checked to ensure it hadn’t been rotted or decayed. Perhaps this one had plummeted recently; no sign of its doom or damnation except maybe poor fortune. He swung his ax overhead, separating the tipped stump from the rest of the log, then worked on pulling, dragging, and rolling the tree back to his cart. Muscles and might rippled beneath, content to be at work, ensuring it could reach his makeshift vehicle and be taken back to the edge of the forest. -- Deimos has created carts for everyone, if they wish to use them to haul out trees. He shifts to his eagle form, finds a tree, and then shifts back to separate it from its stump, and haul it out of the forest with his cart. For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate