if you don't terrify people a little then what's the point
There’d been a time where Deimos amused himself by seeing how many he could intimidate – with reserved scowls, with impassive denizens, with whispers and legends surrounding his Reaper regime. It’d been true when the world understood he’d stop at nothing to defend what was his. It’d been true that violence and vehemence stirred through his ichor with inherent ease, flames stoked, chilling ramparts fervent, ready. It’d been true about the death contorted within his soul, rampant, mutinous, another aspect of his nefarious wake, beyond upheavals, invasions, and wars.
There were less terrifying aspects of him now; when this land had seen him as more than a dragooning force of wills, provocations, and vigilance – but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.
A snicker resided in between ribs, waiting for the right moment. His eyes went immediately to Kiada, and though she likely couldn’t see the amusement contorting around him, she’d be able to sense it by Attuned bond alone. Vengeance was a favorite pastime of the Sword.
He squeezed Amalia’s hand in return, as if posturing away the tension, but in reality just provoking more fires of spirit and mischief; setting the turkey down on the table, then releasing the Shield to freedom and liberation. The monolith nodded towards Chulane, already met twice prior, withholding out on if he could say it was a pleasure to reacquaint with the man.
Mostly just to be obnoxious.
“Wine, thank you,” and then he glanced around, waiting for Amalia to put in her choice of beverage, before his gaze landed on the hosts. “Do you need anything else done?”
There were less terrifying aspects of him now; when this land had seen him as more than a dragooning force of wills, provocations, and vigilance – but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.
A snicker resided in between ribs, waiting for the right moment. His eyes went immediately to Kiada, and though she likely couldn’t see the amusement contorting around him, she’d be able to sense it by Attuned bond alone. Vengeance was a favorite pastime of the Sword.
He squeezed Amalia’s hand in return, as if posturing away the tension, but in reality just provoking more fires of spirit and mischief; setting the turkey down on the table, then releasing the Shield to freedom and liberation. The monolith nodded towards Chulane, already met twice prior, withholding out on if he could say it was a pleasure to reacquaint with the man.
Mostly just to be obnoxious.
“Wine, thank you,” and then he glanced around, waiting for Amalia to put in her choice of beverage, before his gaze landed on the hosts. “Do you need anything else done?”
DEIMOS
