Hurt so Good

D e i m o s

Send a heartbeat to the void that cries through you
Relive the pictures that have come to pass

Maybe it was a counter-weight to their strength, a means of sacrificial devices as they scoured and scourged and destroyed another; incapable of being mended, soothed, or stitched back together. But there’d been ways around it, otherwise he’d likely still be sporting wounds from the chaos strung along alcoves, halls, basements, and cave-ins. His lungs would’ve been damaged beyond all repair from either poison or fire. He’d be barely a vessel at all; a maneuvering shape of scars and lacerations, closer and closer to a second demise. Strength had managed to render some sort of foundation in him now though, and with Zuriel, with the crimson staff, with everything else combined, he at least had a proper foothold. His musings and ruminations were interrupted by Jigano’s yielding; respectable of the wishes, of the discussion they’d had earlier (despite his incantation’s insistence, like a whisper, like a devilish plunge; why not a little more?). He instantly pulled back the tethers of devastation and ruin, their smoky, nefarious, intricate webs hastened within his soul again – dark and nefarious, curled and coiled, contorted and distorted, waiting for the next opportunity. The Sword maneuvered then, towards the bard, closing in on their distance to offer his hand in pulling the man back up from the ground. As far as Amalia’s staff was concerned, and all the etchings around it, he didn’t know much – or how Remi had concentrated to making it into a healing portion, rather than something else altogether. “Perhaps it has something to do with the luxere antlers.” Whether or not their properties coincided with the melding and molding. “I could ask.” He had other inquiries for the alchemist anyway, in association with creation contortions – since he’d made the charm for Amalia during LongNight, simple experimentation giving way to something else altogether. "I tried to replicate the staff to prepare for LongNight, with no such luck." Thinking it could've been a weapon, a means to an end, a defensive procedure for any others seeking out the Stygian storms. For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate