DEIMOS
we've all got blood on our hands
something somewhere had to die
so we could stay alive
Despite the good intentions with his first foray into piping, things didn’t come out too great. Perhaps they hadn’t been strong enough, underestimating the force of the water, bursting at the seams, cracking and groaning until they announced their weaknesses in sprays and cascades. As his eyes cast along the rest of the tubing, several sagged and sprung leaks, not tight enough at their junctures. His sigh might’ve matched the Launceleyn’s, reticence conforming along his brows despite their longing to furrow. At the very least it was a learning experience, and a proclamation that venturing into farming wasn’t going to be his thing. Best to stick to militia tactics and weaponry in the near future.So Deimos went back to work, starting first at the pipes springing leaks, concocting patchworks for some and refitting others, before making his way to where they’d initially been torn apart by the water’s efforts. This time, he used different materials, a harder, stronger, durable concoction, intending for it to remain and last, instill some perseverance, fortitude, and might into the machinations and motions.
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Deimos attempts to repair the leaking pipes and restructure the section that burst.
