how well you walk through the fire
Deimos Ignatius
the Resurrected Sword
Warden of Halo / Guildmaster

Age: 33 | Height: 6'4" | Race: Hybrid | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Halo
Level: 14 - Strg: 72 - Dext: 72 - Endr: 73 - Luck: 80 - Int: 3
BELIAL - Mythical - Peryton (Blend) ZURIEL - Mythical - Unicorn (Healing)
Played by: Heather Offline
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Posts: 6,559 | Total: 10,652
MP: 9824
#15
not heroes any longer - we are tragedies of firelight and flesh
unholy sacraments of blood and broken bodies
Her words might have permeated and pervaded, but they were snagged in the throes of his anguish too, there to settle against him. Maybe he wasn’t ready to hear them, painstakingly believing he deserved every amount of anguish clawing its way through his vestiges, head hung down low, broad shoulders tired, exhausted, fatigued with the amount he deigned to carry. A quiet murmur flickered, followed, ran down his throat like a barb, like a nettle, like a thorn. “She may not see it that way.” The dread of that statement snarled and seared too, because it was one more individual to lose. It’s all he’d ever done consistently, and well; incapable of saving, of keeping everything together, of salvaging after the storms. He’d rebuilt over and over again, but he’d also watched them walk away, wither, or decay – hands reaching to grasp, and still, they hadn’t been enough.

And what if Kiada didn’t forgive him? What if all the promises and vows he’d made truly signified and meant nothing? What was he worth then, to anyone?

This was why he’d once yearned for naught more than hollowed out, decrepit, vacant, a vessel, a meaningless machine, a shell to take the world apart. No feeling, no remorse, no regard, no morality, no ethics, a soulless, eldritch titan amongst and amidst lands to falter beneath his machinations. The Sword had managed to do it entirely by mistake, by consequences rendered, by ineptitude, by misplaced assurances. It hurt, to try and try and try, and to watch it all go up in smoke, in flames, in the fumes of one of his own – souls and entities gone out, redemption too many eons away.

The Shield remained and he breathed, striving to swallow down the demons, the infidels, the rest of the void threatening to consume him. Deimos only bothered to fight at all because she was there; otherwise he would’ve sunk, fallen, into the makeshift crypts, crags, and warrens, waiting to be desecrated and ruined again. The beast expressed his need in silence, opening his arms, to enfold, to encircle, to pull her into him where she fit, where he could hide in his misery.
what use have we for feeble hymns of wasted faith;
for sordid songs of glory?
DEIMOS
Amalia Chandrakant
the Archangel
Baker

Age: 29 | Height: 5'6 | Race: Demi-god | Nationality: Natural | Citizenship: Stormbreak
Level: 5 - Strg: 49 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 52 - Luck: 49 - Int:
JYOTI - Mythical - Starwhale (Humpback)
Played by: shark Offline
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Posts: 3,098 | Total: 4,577
MP: 2580
#16
I run to the river and dive straight in
I pray that the water will drown out the din
"She will. She'll forgive you. And so will Rexanna." She whispers this with fervent conviction, knowing that in his shoes she would be just as distraught, knowing that he would be he one to hold her, had been the one to tell her it would be okay. Adam and Safrin, Peter and Aoife- how many mistakes had she made, losses had she endured, only for him to snatch her back from the brink of her despair?

So if he needs to be held and tethered this time, she will do it. She will be his anchor, his port in the storm, holding her own darkness at bay that she might be his light. Willingly she tucks her way into his waiting arms, curling up against his chest, heart on beating heart. Her eyes drift closed as she inhales the scent of him; a rumbling purr rises from her, wordless comfort, for as long as he may need.

{fin}
i swallow the sound and it swallows me whole
'Til there's nothing left inside my soul
Amalia


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