do not fear the dark, wolf cub, for when the sun leaves the world,
A true statement, she’d always found Deimos creating something, busy and throwing his nose into his work, into pushing away everything else for distractions. She doesn’t blame him, she understands what it’s like. She’d have done the same - had done the same, after Ru’in and her failed quest for Ludo. She supposes she doesn’t have to do that quest anymore – the idea of Ludo speaking to her now falling away like dirt in the wind.
Poor Ru’in, though.
She pushes aside those thoughts as she finds the throwing knives, collecting them in pale and cool fingers, glancing back to Deimos curiously. He grants them to her, and her hand tightens around their handles, focusing on the solid mass of them in her hands, the weights of them, trying to remember what it was like to throw them.
As for armor, however, his tone changes – she gets why, but it’s still cold to her, and she tucks the throwing knives away, turns her head away from him to focus on the rest of the armory, reaching for that part of her that had been altered, like a switch to be pressed on. And from her spine, beneath her clothes down to her wrists, a hard and light armor spreads along her skin, turning her pale scarred upper half into shining metal. She pulls the sleeve back from her arms to show him the glimmer, before she turns that switch again and it melds away.
So she follows him, his restlessness, toward the hallways and out and beyond. As soon as she spies the large area, she can’t help the soft smile that crosses her face. “Looks bigger than the one in the Grounds.” She comments softly, hoping to reach some sort of ease of conversation again.
Poor Ru’in, though.
She pushes aside those thoughts as she finds the throwing knives, collecting them in pale and cool fingers, glancing back to Deimos curiously. He grants them to her, and her hand tightens around their handles, focusing on the solid mass of them in her hands, the weights of them, trying to remember what it was like to throw them.
As for armor, however, his tone changes – she gets why, but it’s still cold to her, and she tucks the throwing knives away, turns her head away from him to focus on the rest of the armory, reaching for that part of her that had been altered, like a switch to be pressed on. And from her spine, beneath her clothes down to her wrists, a hard and light armor spreads along her skin, turning her pale scarred upper half into shining metal. She pulls the sleeve back from her arms to show him the glimmer, before she turns that switch again and it melds away.
So she follows him, his restlessness, toward the hallways and out and beyond. As soon as she spies the large area, she can’t help the soft smile that crosses her face. “Looks bigger than the one in the Grounds.” She comments softly, hoping to reach some sort of ease of conversation again.
the world fears you
KIADA
No permission needed for power play!
Feel free to use magic/force on Kiada, without killing her <3
