DEIMOS & KIADA
your name will be known
a promise, a dare
Deimos would’ve liked to have become the Reaper all over again in those taut, tightened spaces, in the alcoves, blending into the shadowed corners, left to his own devices because everyone was either afraid of him or didn’t want to bother with him. But detachment was long since gone, too many things, lives, devoted arches at stake, and he was forced to remain stalwart and steadfast in a realm of chaos, where previously he would’ve unfurled and joined the waking masses of monsters and mayhem (there’d been a time where they had been the tempestuous demons, mercurial infidels, and seething abominations). Being on the other side, with the scathing unknown at their threshold, was obnoxious; made him testy, made him irritated, bristled against his bones. No, not the walls he began to concur with a singular nod; it would be the door itself, opening and closing as some left, as some blended in, as some allowed the world to unravel in the murky midst.
The familiar head of blonde hair slid into their orbit, and he pondered if it was going to be the devilish intricacies of her fringes they’d all have to succumb to. Not so much a party as a going away debacle, and he clenched his jaw to ensure nothing bitter or rancorous managed to seethe its way from his mouth. The Sword’s gaze slipped to Kiada’s mischievous features, and despite not being in the mood for any sort of amusement or diversion, he could see that the choice may no longer be in his control or composure. “What are we celebrating?” was only the hint, the ghost, of a grin, his rolling eyes significant. Parties were for fun, for laughter, for spectacles; this troupe was headed straight for disaster-
Oh. A thought curled its way into his foundations, one of peaks, one of eternal snow, and the smile threatening to breech and sear along his face suddenly came alive. “We have news for you,” he inclined towards Hotaru, with a steady glance towards the Harpy.
The familiar head of blonde hair slid into their orbit, and he pondered if it was going to be the devilish intricacies of her fringes they’d all have to succumb to. Not so much a party as a going away debacle, and he clenched his jaw to ensure nothing bitter or rancorous managed to seethe its way from his mouth. The Sword’s gaze slipped to Kiada’s mischievous features, and despite not being in the mood for any sort of amusement or diversion, he could see that the choice may no longer be in his control or composure. “What are we celebrating?” was only the hint, the ghost, of a grin, his rolling eyes significant. Parties were for fun, for laughter, for spectacles; this troupe was headed straight for disaster-
Oh. A thought curled its way into his foundations, one of peaks, one of eternal snow, and the smile threatening to breech and sear along his face suddenly came alive. “We have news for you,” he inclined towards Hotaru, with a steady glance towards the Harpy.
they'll speak of my name,
of my battles and wars
but here's the thing,
what's my name without yours?
