DEIMOS
the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
Deimos likely should’ve been grateful for the paperwork keeping him busy. It spirited his notions and semblances away from LongNight, from the press of what might be occurring, from the spiraling torment of years of when they’d faced the torturous expanse over and over and over again –
But it just fed into his frustration.
Alone in the office, he stared down at the missives he’d been organizing, setting aside piles for Morgan to peruse over when she returned, and then the less intricate or binding ones he could handle without requiring permission or needing a second opinion. A couple notations were made here and there, and while the stack depleted, he still wrinkled his nose at the overall existence. The monolith would much prefer biding his time along the training grounds of the barracks, or strolling along the Citadel expanse. Not signing his name along documents until his eyes started to cross.
And there was nothing to pummel or hit in here.
Contemplating constructing an effigy in the corner just to release the restlessness, a distraction arrived in the form of an abbreviated knock. A slight tension coiled along his shoulders, for he automatically presumed it was either something requiring his attention on a minimal manner (if he had to break up one more ridiculous quarrel he was just going to toss both perpetrators over the wall and be done with it), or a larger scale – which could’ve been anything.
Instead it was a familiar face, blurting out a question he didn’t expect. For a moment, the temporary Warden merely glanced up, blinked once or twice, permitting his mind to catch up with the rendering of new calculations, and then persisted. “Sah,” an acknowledgment, then dropping his pen upon the desk, content to be rid of it. A tilt of his head ensured curiosity, especially in the way the inquiry had been raised, the arch of his brow following suit. “It depends on what you think you need.”
But it just fed into his frustration.
Alone in the office, he stared down at the missives he’d been organizing, setting aside piles for Morgan to peruse over when she returned, and then the less intricate or binding ones he could handle without requiring permission or needing a second opinion. A couple notations were made here and there, and while the stack depleted, he still wrinkled his nose at the overall existence. The monolith would much prefer biding his time along the training grounds of the barracks, or strolling along the Citadel expanse. Not signing his name along documents until his eyes started to cross.
And there was nothing to pummel or hit in here.
Contemplating constructing an effigy in the corner just to release the restlessness, a distraction arrived in the form of an abbreviated knock. A slight tension coiled along his shoulders, for he automatically presumed it was either something requiring his attention on a minimal manner (if he had to break up one more ridiculous quarrel he was just going to toss both perpetrators over the wall and be done with it), or a larger scale – which could’ve been anything.
Instead it was a familiar face, blurting out a question he didn’t expect. For a moment, the temporary Warden merely glanced up, blinked once or twice, permitting his mind to catch up with the rendering of new calculations, and then persisted. “Sah,” an acknowledgment, then dropping his pen upon the desk, content to be rid of it. A tilt of his head ensured curiosity, especially in the way the inquiry had been raised, the arch of his brow following suit. “It depends on what you think you need.”
for the space they take
and so, neither shall I
and so, neither shall I
