death, you bring death and destruction to all that you touch
Monsters gone and alleviated, Fingers withheld and upright – chords of information to wrap around his head, keep tied and tethered together for another day, opportunity, or nuance. His focus wasn’t on Torchline as a whole, but perhaps some portions should’ve been, so he shoved the notions to one side, in favor of the current dilemmas.
The problem with a multitude of their accidents was that they ultimately could’ve been avoided, and someone always ended up hurt. Or worse; as their cases had been, whether they were wandering after dragon hearts, or trying to survive in the blackened abyss of LongNight. He’d been so desperate to protect, shield, and guard, that he’d missed the underlying schism and circumstances, the ripple of potential discord, until it’d been far too late. “I did not know what to do with the door after.” He mentioned, attempting to pick the other man’s brain for a moment, stare still straight ahead, at wood grains and movement of other patrons.
But then there were other nuances and plots he hadn’t heard – he’d likely left the Grounds before the news had come full circle, before the entanglements of further plots hatched and unwound. Now there were more threats cast upon the Ascended (someone new, or something old, and archaic?), and the beast permitted his stare to roam back to Sunjata, considerations beginning in the twist and turns of his mind. “Any evidence of who it could be?” Merely so he could have the information for the next council meeting, doomed and damned to be brought up amongst the rest of the trials and tribulations. The possibility that others would be next, if not already targeted along the Grounds, bristled along his shoulders, a narrowing to his eyes along calculation after calculation. “Or what he was attacked with?” How they used or utilized weapons; through magic or mere tools could be a sign, and something else to look out for.
The problem with a multitude of their accidents was that they ultimately could’ve been avoided, and someone always ended up hurt. Or worse; as their cases had been, whether they were wandering after dragon hearts, or trying to survive in the blackened abyss of LongNight. He’d been so desperate to protect, shield, and guard, that he’d missed the underlying schism and circumstances, the ripple of potential discord, until it’d been far too late. “I did not know what to do with the door after.” He mentioned, attempting to pick the other man’s brain for a moment, stare still straight ahead, at wood grains and movement of other patrons.
But then there were other nuances and plots he hadn’t heard – he’d likely left the Grounds before the news had come full circle, before the entanglements of further plots hatched and unwound. Now there were more threats cast upon the Ascended (someone new, or something old, and archaic?), and the beast permitted his stare to roam back to Sunjata, considerations beginning in the twist and turns of his mind. “Any evidence of who it could be?” Merely so he could have the information for the next council meeting, doomed and damned to be brought up amongst the rest of the trials and tribulations. The possibility that others would be next, if not already targeted along the Grounds, bristled along his shoulders, a narrowing to his eyes along calculation after calculation. “Or what he was attacked with?” How they used or utilized weapons; through magic or mere tools could be a sign, and something else to look out for.
DEIMOS
