Change everything you are and everything you were
Your number has been called
“Possibly,” came across as nothing more than a nuance, a thought pattern, amidst the larger, grander scales of things. The only other time he’d ever truly tested the flames had been amongst the Monster Hunter’s Guild, feeling the rush of domination within his palms, and then spreading it outward, unfurling, unleashing, a tidal wave, an inferno, of conflagrations and vitriol. The only moment he’d sought was destruction of the building, because of what it’d harbored, because of the monsters and demons lurking within. His predacious machinations hadn’t accounted for anything else other than the safety of others. He’d have to see just how far he could expand, just how wide he could conquer, just how far he could push, in another hour, in another day, in another moment.
For then there were tiger shifts and gaping holes in water shields, plummeting fur and claws, fangs and talons, the summoner slammed to the ground beneath the monolith’s massive bulk. It was a rippling, an undulation of muscles and sinew contorted for upheaval, for dominion, for absolute prowess in taking down prey; and while the Launcelyn truly wasn’t a source of chasing or stalking, the rapacious mannerisms still lain underneath just the same. And so Deimos remained, a growling decibel burning through his throat, until the call of yield came into the sanction.
He reeled and backed away, shifting instantly back into human form, lowering himself only to offer a hand towards the fellow militia member, if he required it. “Well done,” he pronounced, for it had been, and he wouldn’t lie along these stages. The General fixed the other man with a curious expression, as if asking if he was all right without the syllables and sounds pressed across his tongue – not moments later Zuriel was at his side, a particular chiding and snarky comment withheld through their bond. He’d bled and been burned, but naught monumental – his lungs were not scorched on the inside by poison or smoke again, and his body wasn’t broken, wasn’t maimed, wasn’t scarred, or brutalized – a successful venture and experience, all in all, an expansion of knowledge, sagacity, and calculations within their magical parameters. The depths of his gaze still rankled over to Loren, pondering his thoughts on the matter, while Zuriel’s horn glowed and the healing process began again, blood spatter and scratches across his features no longer remaining, the emblem and steam burn resolving and dissolving into fresh, reborn flesh.
For then there were tiger shifts and gaping holes in water shields, plummeting fur and claws, fangs and talons, the summoner slammed to the ground beneath the monolith’s massive bulk. It was a rippling, an undulation of muscles and sinew contorted for upheaval, for dominion, for absolute prowess in taking down prey; and while the Launcelyn truly wasn’t a source of chasing or stalking, the rapacious mannerisms still lain underneath just the same. And so Deimos remained, a growling decibel burning through his throat, until the call of yield came into the sanction.
He reeled and backed away, shifting instantly back into human form, lowering himself only to offer a hand towards the fellow militia member, if he required it. “Well done,” he pronounced, for it had been, and he wouldn’t lie along these stages. The General fixed the other man with a curious expression, as if asking if he was all right without the syllables and sounds pressed across his tongue – not moments later Zuriel was at his side, a particular chiding and snarky comment withheld through their bond. He’d bled and been burned, but naught monumental – his lungs were not scorched on the inside by poison or smoke again, and his body wasn’t broken, wasn’t maimed, wasn’t scarred, or brutalized – a successful venture and experience, all in all, an expansion of knowledge, sagacity, and calculations within their magical parameters. The depths of his gaze still rankled over to Loren, pondering his thoughts on the matter, while Zuriel’s horn glowed and the healing process began again, blood spatter and scratches across his features no longer remaining, the emblem and steam burn resolving and dissolving into fresh, reborn flesh.
DEIMOS
