Strike A Gourd [Seasonal Event]

Deimos the Reaper You can't take back the cards you've dealt on this long and lonely road to hell the throne must be such a sad and lonely place All together, they seemed to make a good show: displaying traces of their powers, mere hints at chaos, bedlam, and ruin. Nothing was unveiled too wildly or haphazardly, sketches of what laid beneath the surface of each individual, and he made a careful note at Rexanna’s fireworks, at Edrei’s infernos, at the considerations and calculations possibly required for the future. He was always a conniving, Machiavellian figure; but he didn’t break the moment apart to regard, to plot, to scheme, or devise. The beast carried on in the same venture, listening to the cackles of Edrei with a wayward shrug and easygoing snicker; giving not a single other revelation of himself except controlled, contorted amusement. Well, he could bestow his name, if that was the next step in the bizarre discourse. “Deimos,” he offered into the crowd; though Rexanna was already well aware of his existence. He said naught about making the team, and instead, merely gave both of them another round of pumpkins headed their way. The first he dropped along his foot as it came swinging by, airborne for a few seconds, aimed entirely at Edrei, curious about how she’d return the gesture (because she seemed wild, untamed, unbroken, unobliged to anyone or anything, and that was a blessing). The second was lobbed with intent towards Rexanna, with a series of kicks and volleys, coming closer and closer, and hurling it towards her so that she might hasten it towards the makeshift goal.

_{Photo and Table by Time
Photo taken at Hero's Square in Budapest, Hungary}