who we are and all that we're trying to be
The Sword could only imagine what the first phrase signified. In other worlds, dimensions, the known parameters of his title and name had either sent them spinning in the other direction, balking, avoiding, or raising hackles in disdain. Sometimes his own vehement vigilance inspired abhorrence and contempt, and sometimes nothing at all. He snorted instead, half-tempted to add more fuel to the fire for the comment, and instead moved slightly away, grabbing hold of another wandering piece of rubbish in his teeth. He figured most of Nate’s information came from Sunjata, and probably none of it grand – shrugging it off, a nonchalant disposition rendered all the more. His actions were his merit, his deliberations his distinction; they’d tell a story far better than anyone else’s credits, ideals, or forewarnings.
He ambled back to the fire, depositing the newfound debris, capable of keeping Nate at a distance with the flames, and still contorting the facets of his own enigma. Instead of digging into whatever had been told or phrased about him, Deimos went in an entirely different direction, wondering if he’d have to instill more ominous declarations, or if Nate was far more of an honorable sort than the Flood. How did you meet Hotaru? The whole affair and event was baffling and bewildering to him, but he hadn’t judged the parameters, so much as the consequences surrounding them.
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
