after fury
what do you do
It could’ve been the stoic, reserved, reticent renderings to his features that seemed to instigate the more playful individuals. While he prided himself on forbearing, diffident composures, iron and detachment, forged platitudes and bombardments, the Sword usually thawed after a while; either with known individuals, or through experiences, hurdles, trials, and tribulations. Aisha’s techniques and contributions to the miltia had already served her well, and so she’d receive the barebones of his amusements, on her way to working towards his impish, devilish accord. Layer upon layer, lacquer upon lacquer, wall upon wall, the Sword had a weapon for every component and situation.He arched a brow, waiting for something else to flicker and banter through, but when nothing was forthcoming from her, he lowered his head, carrying on in his work. Uncertain of what else Rexanna or Bastien might require, and having zero experience with babies (Ascended or not; and the bizarre thoughts of what the child would even come out looking like made him nearly grimace), he contorted and created a few bibs, figuring all children were messy. They matched with the blankets, adorned in the same sentiments and designs, figuring Rexanna’s husband would appreciate semblances of aesthetic.
Deimos raised his gaze again at her inquiry, a silent nod bolstering through his movements. “Yes.” The monolith could always make more later; when they weren’t preparing for a multitude of other things.
with the remains?
DEIMOS
