[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

It was almost pathetic how the Sword had assumed the worst – some sort of monster brewing and brooding, but he’d had too many experiences with too many trials and tribulations to ever presume something friendly or outgoing was coming along pathways. Perhaps it was a pessimistic outlook, but the world had committed its acts upon him in an unholy amount of irreverence, so he often did the same. The stranger was immediately suspicious, another frustration on top of the other vexations. They’d actually been completely innocent in this regard, but his stance, his existence, had never been in a guiltless, innocent foray; a presence that spoke volumes of war, of quiet, voracious silence, of years spent striving to survive and attempting for others to do the same. He didn’t back away. He didn’t covet any suspicious behavior. He didn’t glean forward. He watched and waited, studied and scrutinized, gaze lingering on the luxere, knowing full well they rarely tolerated his presence – too much darkness, no matter his vows or assurances. His gaze narrowed, pondering where all of this was going to go; Loren’s capability of flattery and compliments hoping to work to their benefit, since the Reaper couldn’t come up with a single, solitary nuance to show their good faith and adherence other than veracity. “No harm meant,” he extended. He wasn’t about to comment on beautiful singing voices, the depths of his gaze swinging back to the maimed owl. “Do you have an ability to help them?” Maybe she contained something greater or grander than them – already wasting precious time and not acquiring a single damned piece of timber. Efforts might’ve been in vain right from the beginning, and they’d be forced to find some other tree. For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate