who we are and all that we're trying to be
Deimos had lived multiple lives never pledging himself to a single, or any, god. For the most part, they’d ignored him, his pleas for others falling either on deaf or detached ears, and in turn, he’d committed the same actions to them. He relied on himself or the faith in his friends. The day he Attuned was likely a step in this accord, not something he’d thought of or perceived in those circumstances (a rare oversight in calculations). He didn’t particularly enjoy the thought of becoming deeper and deeper entrenched into a herald’s hands – maintaining his own semblance of control was almost a singular design in his entity.
So the Sword arched a brow, but left no comment. His actions should’ve been louder than words anyway.
Instead, the mountain listened to the rest of Safrin’s speech, the considerations, the possibilities. “So the Temple would be off-limits,” he nodded in turn and understanding, since the Voice was already embedded within. But everything else – all the other shrines, seemed within the range of likelihood.
Thereafter though, came mighty steps, leaps, and bounds. Would there be an Ascended willing to do such a thing? Probabilities simmered along his cranium, pondering the lengths in which they would have to go. One might have been enough, if any were to be spared at all, for a front door, with everything else locked, like windows. It depended on whatever structure they managed to retain for the length of LongNight. “I can try.” Try to snag at amenable individual, try to extend reasons why it’d be a good idea to give up a part of their livelihoods. It seemed to be a stretch, but Deimos had never been one daunted or intimidated. If anything, it was a challenge, a goading, provoking thing, another layer and lacquer to help protect and shield the individuals meant to stay in the Grounds. “Is there anything else we would need?” For both things – a busy Deepfrost in store.
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
