[PQ] Deck the Halls

D e i m o s

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

Deimos eventually shifted back to human form, awaiting the next set of tasks, the banter still rambling and surrounding him, despite not being an active participant in its fold. More wedding planner amusements; granting the arch of a brow and not much else – eyes sliding slightly over to Jigano in a dead-pan stare, giving away naught. He wasn’t sure even how to react in his bizarre renown for wedding planning and ring box construction.   At least he could occupy himself with prizes for this oncoming gathering and contest, settling within something habitual, something tangible. Creation and contortion pooled along his hands, familiar and forthright in their purposes, assembling, whittling, and sculpting away various ministrations and objects, perceiving the upcoming season as a method to the variety piling before him. Some were common items he’d always manage to make at the drop of a hat: stilettos, daggers, a few knives, cut little details into their helms and handles (a dragon here, a giant there, ice and fire burned into one of the other sanctions). Others were based on summer’s incoming precision: tinted glasses, darker shades to shield and protect eyes from the sun, and a variety of satchels and bags of different heights and weight-bearing abilities, stitching pristine and precise, some pockets etched with pictures or battle scenes. Upon completion, he lingered with them in his grasp, waiting for either approval or disregard. For now we stand alone, the world is lost and blown And we are flesh and blood disintegrate with no more to hate