Deimos
He would’ve been grateful, had he known of her inner thoughts, of her refraining from discussing his death, the crackling finality in the rain. It was distant in his memories, but still there, the purpose unclear as to why he’d been brought back at all. Instead, he could focus on her inquiries, on the speculation delivered, administered, refractions and reflections of days he’d once yearned for. “Not yet. But soon.” The Sword would post something on the notice board and then go from there, assemble some sort of motley crew to ensure it was a successful endeavor; imagining a glorified training ground, target after target, places to assemble, places to plan, places to demonstrate this world was no longer a sitting duck, waiting for the next tyrant to pick it apart. No more yielding. No more relinquishing. No more ceding. They hadn’t known beforehand, but they did now – the revolution taking its toll.
The beast snorted at her requirement of a boosted ego; she’d always had enough confidence for the rest of the world, determined to press her efforts and determination into any scalding kingdom. He would’ve told her as such, but the question deigned towards the aforementioned monarch, so his brows furrowed slightly, away from the amusement and distortions, and back into the confines of the past summer. Jaw clenched, pondering just how far to go back, just how to explain Zariah’s tendencies, if she was going to be another threat all over again, if she intended to segment her way back into their throng, no matter who reigned. No matter who commanded; always believing herself to be better, to be stronger. But the rest of them could flourish and grow too, develop new powers, undermine; just as they’d done before. “Possibly. She often threatened individuals who were against her reign or tactics.” With violence. With arrests. With postings. With omens directed towards those they were close to. Whether or not she could’ve followed through on any of the plans remained to be seen: but they’d done their due diligence in assembling notions beneath prison cells, in preparing for the worst. He made no mention of the wrath pending and thought to be administered upon either Jigano or Amalia, and the fallout laden in between. Hotaru would’ve cherished the drama.
Highlight of the season – murdering the stone-cold dictator would’ve left him reeling in triumph. He could easily admit to the truth of such a statement. “Certainly.” She’d been a menace, a maelstrom, a constant, blistering force of predilection and ruin; and as much as Deimos reveled in chaos, hers hadn’t been anything prolific or worth savoring. It’d been restless and enigmatic, twisting and turning until they couldn’t take it anymore. It’d be a return of the Reaper – to proffer a singular warning and then the rush of oblivion. Except he didn’t know how potent or powerful he could be against her – this world different, altering prowess and potential within portals and passing of time. All of them were far more armed, deadly, than where’d they begun – but she could be too.
The beast snorted at her requirement of a boosted ego; she’d always had enough confidence for the rest of the world, determined to press her efforts and determination into any scalding kingdom. He would’ve told her as such, but the question deigned towards the aforementioned monarch, so his brows furrowed slightly, away from the amusement and distortions, and back into the confines of the past summer. Jaw clenched, pondering just how far to go back, just how to explain Zariah’s tendencies, if she was going to be another threat all over again, if she intended to segment her way back into their throng, no matter who reigned. No matter who commanded; always believing herself to be better, to be stronger. But the rest of them could flourish and grow too, develop new powers, undermine; just as they’d done before. “Possibly. She often threatened individuals who were against her reign or tactics.” With violence. With arrests. With postings. With omens directed towards those they were close to. Whether or not she could’ve followed through on any of the plans remained to be seen: but they’d done their due diligence in assembling notions beneath prison cells, in preparing for the worst. He made no mention of the wrath pending and thought to be administered upon either Jigano or Amalia, and the fallout laden in between. Hotaru would’ve cherished the drama.
Highlight of the season – murdering the stone-cold dictator would’ve left him reeling in triumph. He could easily admit to the truth of such a statement. “Certainly.” She’d been a menace, a maelstrom, a constant, blistering force of predilection and ruin; and as much as Deimos reveled in chaos, hers hadn’t been anything prolific or worth savoring. It’d been restless and enigmatic, twisting and turning until they couldn’t take it anymore. It’d be a return of the Reaper – to proffer a singular warning and then the rush of oblivion. Except he didn’t know how potent or powerful he could be against her – this world different, altering prowess and potential within portals and passing of time. All of them were far more armed, deadly, than where’d they begun – but she could be too.
i rule the stars, not the other way around
