DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
Some portions of their carpentry were effective; Deimos’ precise measurements and calculations paid off in holes patched – Joshua’s less so, despite his increased attention, the nail still wasted, slanted, or busted through the timber with nothing attaching to the walls. Sighing, the Sword continued to pick up the slack, eyes catching on the sheer amount of holes remaining in the roof, slanted little beams of sunlight pouring in, and the remaining contortions on the side.Loren’s efforts at expelling waste without the need of a broom were substantial and clever – the force of the water blasted away nests and remnants, the debris clustered together towards the middle of the floor, capable of being shuffled away into a broom pan. His control was excellent, and no one received a cascading drop upon them.
Unfortunately, that was where the success ended.
Sunjata’s skills with sweeping didn’t quite match his talents with compelling – likely meant to gather with Loren’s already swept aside detritus. Maybe his anger had come far too into play, and he wasn’t paying attention. Perhaps his focus wasn’t applied, understandable, given the nature of the task. For whatever reason, he tripped and fell over his own broom, long limbs scattering him near the cluster of fragments and refuse.
Weaver’s attempts to grab her wayward tool shouldn’t have been a problem. It was what remained and lurked amidst the shadows that was due to be the bigger issue.
A flicker of her flame danced across shadows, unveiling a creature that resembled a cluster of rocks and boulders, quite content to remain in the darker thresholds, inhabiting the prison’s residence since no one else had. But at the source of light, at the notion of flames, it came to life – hostile and tenacious, immediately unfurling from its crumbling fixations, large and imposing, conducting a brief, earth-shattering roar. It stared directly at Weaver, some menacing, glowering look in its eyes; a dim vessel, simply wanting the source of the fire to go away.
It began hurling rocks in all directions, most specifically at Weaver.
Deimos rose from his crouch at the initial bellow and howl – instantly into General prowess, gaze taking in the familiar demon. “Stone Golem. They do not like daylight.” At least, that was how they’d gotten rid of the one ensconced in the bakery’s basement; lifetimes before now. His eyes scaled along the prison, regarding it for weaponry and machinations now. It’d become the main priority for the moment; once they were rid of it, everything else could continue and prevail. Orders and commands bounded across his tongue, inherent, instinctual, marks of yesteryears and past lives, ducking as stones continued flying. “Joshua and Sunjata, can you take the boards off the windows?” It would permit more sunlight, and they would need to be replaced anyway. No loss there. “Loren, some sort of shield?” Then he crossed the room, intending to draw up his fire, positioning himself beside Weaver. “Help me lure it towards the sun?” The Sword presumed it wouldn’t care for the fire, and if they could go in the opposite direction, push it out of the safe confines of darkness, and into the patches of glowing rays, then they’d have a chance.
--
You’ve activated my trap card!
Deimos and
However,
Deimos has given out some directions – carry on!
Unite and spread the heart apart
