DEIMOS
the fire can't touch me
for I have burned too many times
for I have burned too many times
Hardly.
There was much to be said and orchestrated in the measures of experience. Deimos hadn’t lived for as long, hadn’t survived the multitudes of mayhem, without understanding the nuances and notions of potential, prowess, and pernicious sedition. Of movement. Of ensuring survival any way he could snag, grasp, and pull. Wars created monsters, but also sagacious, intrepid warriors – and he’d bow to no one.
She could have her victorious smile all she wanted and craved. It didn’t matter much. The battle wasn’t done.
His features didn’t change, rendered impassive, calculating, the machinations coiling, contorting, constantly unwinding into something new, something tangible, something scrupulous. He maneuvered, sliding off to the right, not even bothering to heed the tip of her serrated edges. If it cut into furs, then so be it; his manifestations were for instigating, provoking. Not to be snared, not to be trapped, not to be taken and savaged.
The beast didn’t need to charge; lowering his frame, giving less opportunities for menace, and instigated whatever speed he could muster. Honing in the longer limbs, the farther reach, intending to inveigle and expose; his blade slashed towards her ribs and torso, attempting to see how she blocked when the action became too close for comfort.
There was much to be said and orchestrated in the measures of experience. Deimos hadn’t lived for as long, hadn’t survived the multitudes of mayhem, without understanding the nuances and notions of potential, prowess, and pernicious sedition. Of movement. Of ensuring survival any way he could snag, grasp, and pull. Wars created monsters, but also sagacious, intrepid warriors – and he’d bow to no one.
She could have her victorious smile all she wanted and craved. It didn’t matter much. The battle wasn’t done.
His features didn’t change, rendered impassive, calculating, the machinations coiling, contorting, constantly unwinding into something new, something tangible, something scrupulous. He maneuvered, sliding off to the right, not even bothering to heed the tip of her serrated edges. If it cut into furs, then so be it; his manifestations were for instigating, provoking. Not to be snared, not to be trapped, not to be taken and savaged.
The beast didn’t need to charge; lowering his frame, giving less opportunities for menace, and instigated whatever speed he could muster. Honing in the longer limbs, the farther reach, intending to inveigle and expose; his blade slashed towards her ribs and torso, attempting to see how she blocked when the action became too close for comfort.
the sea can't harm me
for I have been drowning all my life
for I have been drowning all my life
