DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
Ludo’s appearance, carried on the childlike expression, eased some of the rigid proportions in his spine. He managed to shake his head, snort, a muffled gesture in his chest, before raising his head, fully intending to watch the emblems and artifacts play out. Nodding at the intentions behind the gathered supplies, tilting his head in sharpened focus as neither antlers nor wishbones sought out solidarity with one another, arching a brow in puzzlement, and then everything else seemed to take shape.
Whittled away in complexities and powers he’d never be capable of understanding, the Sword watched as the items meandered, hovered, left in suspension along midair, until they glowed. Until they snapped. Until they were fitted and cloaked, transfigured. He watched in silent awe, eyes rounding slightly, a very boyish curiosity taking hold, until they were done and complete, set out before him. His hands went to their pieces, taking hold of them, placing their delicate fixtures in his calloused palm, not yet closing his fingers over their segments. “Thank you. These are wonderful.” They would do well, suited for those without his Attuned elements, capable of communicating across voids and perils; which would always happen sooner, rather than later.
And then his piercing, scheming nuances flickered again – stare going back to the ragged god. “While you are here, may I ask you about what occurred at the festival?”
--
Turning in my plot info from the birthday gifts! <3
Whittled away in complexities and powers he’d never be capable of understanding, the Sword watched as the items meandered, hovered, left in suspension along midair, until they glowed. Until they snapped. Until they were fitted and cloaked, transfigured. He watched in silent awe, eyes rounding slightly, a very boyish curiosity taking hold, until they were done and complete, set out before him. His hands went to their pieces, taking hold of them, placing their delicate fixtures in his calloused palm, not yet closing his fingers over their segments. “Thank you. These are wonderful.” They would do well, suited for those without his Attuned elements, capable of communicating across voids and perils; which would always happen sooner, rather than later.
And then his piercing, scheming nuances flickered again – stare going back to the ragged god. “While you are here, may I ask you about what occurred at the festival?”
--
Turning in my plot info from the birthday gifts! <3
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
