if you don't terrify people a little then what's the point
The situation, similar in stature to moments before, was a mess.
But only in the juvenile, amusing ways paint flew over stones and timber, over long columns, across faces and features. No blood, no warfare, no raging battles here, in the hall of armaments and weapons; only a very vague sense of clarity, drunken sedition, and targets manifested in different ways than he’d first conspired and devised.
Considering the alternatives, what had occurred here during the last Deepfrost, Deimos, tipsy and infantile, wouldn’t have it any other way, than relaxed dispositions, amusements, and diversions before an oncoming storm.
There were varying degrees of success; perhaps the Sword was fortunate enough to haveAisha nearby to slap the vibrant handprint upon his target, because with his shortened attention span, he managed to make a singular line before his gaze broke off, watching others. “Thank you,” he tilted his head towards his fellow shield, cranium tilted in a vague way with a mercenary’s grin, completely forgetting that those who’d been told to clean simply hadn’t.
Between the pair ofChulane and Kiada, the combined efforts established some semblance of a finished goal; though the ningo farmer would somehow get far more paint on himself than anywhere near the target. Belril, continuing to stay out of the line of fire and trouble, completed his with little fanfare, even if it might not have turned out quite the way he wanted.
By then, Deimos had regained some composure, in and out, but was hardly the menacing, intimidating figure of normal, regular, business hours; it might’ve been the vibrant hues stuck and stained on his clothing, his hair, and his beard, or the rendering of a sly smile etched halfway along his mouth. Could’ve been the lack of nefarious means in his eyes – and simple mischief radiating through.
But surveying their usual residence, he finally realized that this would be an onslaught come morning, when the rest of the guards came in for their routines, their training, and found the hall to be a mess. And since everyone seemed to have finalized and achieved the end means, it was time to actually accomplish the cleansing.
Moving his target back towards the rest, where it could dry in relative peace, he announced his intentions, quickly guzzling down some water in hopes of overriding an incoming headache. “We can put them over there,” a hand waving towards the others. “And clean.”
Within a matter of moments, because at least his magic could still adhere despite his lack of focus and concentration, buckets filled to the brim with water appeared – one for each, sponges settling on the top.
The beast immediately started utilizing his own elemental incantations, a massive spray suddenly coating the floors; indifferent if it hit others again.
Likely on purpose.
--
Everyone has finished their targets!
Time to clean and start wrapping this up!
But only in the juvenile, amusing ways paint flew over stones and timber, over long columns, across faces and features. No blood, no warfare, no raging battles here, in the hall of armaments and weapons; only a very vague sense of clarity, drunken sedition, and targets manifested in different ways than he’d first conspired and devised.
Considering the alternatives, what had occurred here during the last Deepfrost, Deimos, tipsy and infantile, wouldn’t have it any other way, than relaxed dispositions, amusements, and diversions before an oncoming storm.
There were varying degrees of success; perhaps the Sword was fortunate enough to have
Between the pair of
By then, Deimos had regained some composure, in and out, but was hardly the menacing, intimidating figure of normal, regular, business hours; it might’ve been the vibrant hues stuck and stained on his clothing, his hair, and his beard, or the rendering of a sly smile etched halfway along his mouth. Could’ve been the lack of nefarious means in his eyes – and simple mischief radiating through.
But surveying their usual residence, he finally realized that this would be an onslaught come morning, when the rest of the guards came in for their routines, their training, and found the hall to be a mess. And since everyone seemed to have finalized and achieved the end means, it was time to actually accomplish the cleansing.
Moving his target back towards the rest, where it could dry in relative peace, he announced his intentions, quickly guzzling down some water in hopes of overriding an incoming headache. “We can put them over there,” a hand waving towards the others. “And clean.”
Within a matter of moments, because at least his magic could still adhere despite his lack of focus and concentration, buckets filled to the brim with water appeared – one for each, sponges settling on the top.
The beast immediately started utilizing his own elemental incantations, a massive spray suddenly coating the floors; indifferent if it hit others again.
Likely on purpose.
--
Everyone has finished their targets!
Time to clean and start wrapping this up!
DEIMOS
