DEIMOS
He stayed in the midst of Bastien’s grief and rage, the fury and furor, the righteous justice of its pendulum swings. The pain simmered against his cheek, and he settled into the depictions of anguish, into the multitudes of melancholy, scraping down the columns of his existence, into the measures of his guilt. There were no good answers – Safrin had been the one he’d gone to, and undoubtedly no matter which herald, save the Voice, the result would’ve been the same. He made no mention of the way the Ascended had driven their own daggers into the realm, how much other particles of the world simmered and seared, how much vexation and vehemence had seared in his own lungs during the blight. “It should not have mattered. You were all supposed to be inside. If they had all just stayed - ,” and the tremors began again, the shaking of his hands, the frustration warring with the sorrow. The door was the only thing holding him upright, the way he flexed his fingers together into a fist, grounding, tethering.
Amalia getting a mention didn’t hurt, didn’t maim, didn’t press; the Shield held her own opinions, and Deimos had always meandered in a more neutral territory. They didn’t contain singular beliefs in everything. They were not one and the same. So his growl punctured and pierced into the void, over the clenched jaws and the taut lines. “I have never acted against the Ascended.” And that had been for Rexanna, because she’d been a part of them, escaping from Zariah’s reign, and he’d been proud, so proud, that she’d found a way out of the Merciless’s clutches.
But this accusation leveled his brows, and the danger, the treachery, lurking in his bones threatened, loosened, Reaper prowess and ambitions. “Would you like me to be?” Filing in those ranks of hatred, of abhorrence, of another potent, bestial, ferocious individual, striving to take them down? Did Bastien want one more enemy, one more adversary, targeting their footholds?
He could start right here.
Amalia getting a mention didn’t hurt, didn’t maim, didn’t press; the Shield held her own opinions, and Deimos had always meandered in a more neutral territory. They didn’t contain singular beliefs in everything. They were not one and the same. So his growl punctured and pierced into the void, over the clenched jaws and the taut lines. “I have never acted against the Ascended.” And that had been for Rexanna, because she’d been a part of them, escaping from Zariah’s reign, and he’d been proud, so proud, that she’d found a way out of the Merciless’s clutches.
But this accusation leveled his brows, and the danger, the treachery, lurking in his bones threatened, loosened, Reaper prowess and ambitions. “Would you like me to be?” Filing in those ranks of hatred, of abhorrence, of another potent, bestial, ferocious individual, striving to take them down? Did Bastien want one more enemy, one more adversary, targeting their footholds?
He could start right here.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
