DEIMOS
what tried to destroy you
didn't have the strength
didn't have the strength
Deimos would likely never admit that he waited for approval, for the known aspects of acceptance. In other lives he wouldn’t have cared, drawn into the impassivity, into the detachment, into the apathy, of tearing apart adversaries and ushering in brutal, catastrophic force. But here he’d been treated with basic human decency, and had fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on the situation), adapted into the role of sanctions and assent. His features coiled back into their known reticence, where brows weren’t furrowed, where everything became a blank, hardened slate, sliding into the recherche and guarded tactics while Nate inspected.
He also wouldn’t admit the rush of relief flooding through his lungs, on a far more easygoing exhale, when the proclaim was announced. “Good,” rumbled on a nod, the genuine, small, discrete curls of a smile forming along the corner of his mouth. At the very least, it might give the Ascended meager windows of opportunity to not be burnt into cinders, and that had to be enough for the moment.
The beast made to shoulder his bag over brawn and muscles again, work and role completed, when the invitation was lofted, extended, cast. He hadn’t expected it, and the surprise registered briefly over his face, eyes widening, head tilting, considering the hour, the nuances, and the notions in between. For half a second he hesitated, thought about rambling right back towards the portal, into the mountains, into some version of his preferred seclusion – before swallowing down the age-old, primordial habits. “Sure.”
He also wouldn’t admit the rush of relief flooding through his lungs, on a far more easygoing exhale, when the proclaim was announced. “Good,” rumbled on a nod, the genuine, small, discrete curls of a smile forming along the corner of his mouth. At the very least, it might give the Ascended meager windows of opportunity to not be burnt into cinders, and that had to be enough for the moment.
The beast made to shoulder his bag over brawn and muscles again, work and role completed, when the invitation was lofted, extended, cast. He hadn’t expected it, and the surprise registered briefly over his face, eyes widening, head tilting, considering the hour, the nuances, and the notions in between. For half a second he hesitated, thought about rambling right back towards the portal, into the mountains, into some version of his preferred seclusion – before swallowing down the age-old, primordial habits. “Sure.”
still you stand
sturdy and smelling of smoke
sturdy and smelling of smoke
