DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
Why not fight? he nearly asked – except he understood exactly what it meant to simply want to succumb. To want to be dragged beneath the surface and drown, watch the world swarm, surround, and feel absolutely nothing. He’d been an onslaught, he’d been a terror, but sometimes in between those meticulous movements, those irreverent, driven motions, the ground could’ve opened up, swallowed him whole, and he would’ve taken his consignment to oblivion with gratitude and fervor. The Sword couldn’t now, not with so many tied and tethered around him, but the emotions, the sentiments compounded, remained, broken bits and pieces never quite fully healed returning from their recession. Reminders; bittersweet entanglements of the rancor scorching, biting, and tearing. Barreling on, on and on and on, on rapids and currents – until something sunk or dug into ramparts. Perhaps Sunjata was just too far gone now, and it didn’t matter. Cold and dark and listless, at the bottom of the sea, asking no one or nothing to pull him to shore. “Later, I imagine,” Deimos advised while he settled several more nails into their corresponding factions, relishing in being able to nearly destroy something in the process. “When she is not cooped up,” cringing a little at the implications of the infirmary; not quite a joke, but he’d hovered just enough to stay out of the range of her glares and irritation. Maybe when Sunjata’s life wasn’t falling to pieces either.
“We can wait,” at the notion of sparring – not intending to take a sick man down, no sport or amusement in those regards. He eyed the smirk and would’ve naturally given one of his own, but his heart wasn’t in it, listening to the drone of the hammer instead, shifting a few more portions in place, allowing Sunjata to hold them down again. At the implications of the memory mud, the General’s brow arched, a sigh coming from his distinction too. “Were you involved?” The intentions of sorrows and apologies seemed too grand a gesture to be anything but; and he knew the notions of failing a mission, of doing something, of achieving, of trying, and it not being even close to enough.
Unite and spread the heart apart
