DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
Deimos could be a predator, given the right circumstances (threatening those he cared about by and large usually did the trick), the right tactics, the right ways to curve him from icy fixtures and into absolute oblivion. He could be malice, menace, distortion, and devastation, a living, breathing weapon, a manifested machine of damnation and terror. This instant didn’t translate into any of those things, and since the world had settled into his blood, into his soul, and ensured he was pointed in the right direction, the beast strived to do the same for others. He understood the weight of the unknown, the press of ignorance, the gaping, overwhelming, overbearing feeling of too many furtive notes and specious regards all at once. If the guild could offer her solace, comfort, and sagacity, they were all the better for it too – gaining one more member for their prestige, prowess, and capabilities. The efforts went both ways. “You can,” he murmured again, hastening on a nod. Acceptance and tolerance, the anthem of this world. “Would you like to join then?”Unite and spread the heart apart
