DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
They all seemed to settle into their preferred stations, leaving Deimos to either ensure everyone had supplies, wander around restlessly, or join in. He opted for the latter, and at the woman’s offering, partook – because it should’ve been a surprise to no one that he lacked the skills. Not cautious around the flora, but obviously out of place, he was content to pull up a chair, and watch as the woman deftly wove her ivory and gilded strands into a diadem form – quite effortlessly. His stare was intent, head tilted, and he snagged at some white and blue blossoms, intending to replicate her designs, leaning back in his chair, striving not to laugh at his clumsy efforts. “Thank you for trying,” he commented to Arialla, a chuckle under his breath. His large, calloused palms were well equipped for weaponry, hauling, lifting, or shielding, but not for such delicate matters. Perhaps he was better off wearing them.
As his sprigs managed to remain entirely askew, his brows furrowed into deep concentration. A passing comment meandered its way toChulane, not expecting a response other than some wry wit. Kiada and I launched these at the crowd last year, with the catapult. Proud, and dignified, at the notions of one of his favored creations and the innocent chaos that had ensued.
The fellow Attuned managed to conjure either visions of Halo, or somewhere else entirely from the manifestation of Earth, the sticks rendered in its generous frost, snowdrop essences, and contorted leaves. Only a few opted to defy his efforts, peeling away from their fellows in a rise towards the ceiling.
The Wraith’s candle decorating turned out to be the most successful – the imprinted flowers correlating well on the waxy surface, the stems curling prettily, and the shadow manifesting the same, maneuvering everything in accord. In no time at all,Wessex would find a number of them completed, meant to signify something, eventually, in the blaze of fire. Maybe she could imagine them all as Fae, going up in the flames.
And with that, everyone would be free to move elsewhere.
--
Round one: everyone did well, except Deimos, who cannot make a flower crown.
You may keep working at this station, or move to another!
As his sprigs managed to remain entirely askew, his brows furrowed into deep concentration. A passing comment meandered its way to
The fellow Attuned managed to conjure either visions of Halo, or somewhere else entirely from the manifestation of Earth, the sticks rendered in its generous frost, snowdrop essences, and contorted leaves. Only a few opted to defy his efforts, peeling away from their fellows in a rise towards the ceiling.
The Wraith’s candle decorating turned out to be the most successful – the imprinted flowers correlating well on the waxy surface, the stems curling prettily, and the shadow manifesting the same, maneuvering everything in accord. In no time at all,
And with that, everyone would be free to move elsewhere.
--
Round one: everyone did well, except Deimos, who cannot make a flower crown.
You may keep working at this station, or move to another!
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
