God help the outcasts, the tattered, the torn
Seeking an answer to why they were born
Bastien stared. He heard what Deimos said but it took a moment to form into an actual sentence in his head; took even longer for those words to have meaning. As soon as they did though, as soon as he realised that Deimos had set into motion the events that had ended in his love cold and lifeless on the bed...his feet moved before he had a chance to think any quicker.
"You viper!" He yelled, fist immediately swinging back to attempt a blow to Deimo's cheek. "You did not consider that she might use it this way?! Or did you? Did you mean for Ascended to die?!" Bastien demanded, determinedly pushing into Deimos' space and insisting on answers that he knew he was never going to get.
"You viper!" He yelled, fist immediately swinging back to attempt a blow to Deimo's cheek. "You did not consider that she might use it this way?! Or did you? Did you mean for Ascended to die?!" Bastien demanded, determinedly pushing into Deimos' space and insisting on answers that he knew he was never going to get.
Winds of misfortune have blown them about
You made the outcasts, don't cast them out
BASTIEN
