DEIMOS
surviving is never beautiful
its blood on your hands and face
its blood on your hands and face
The Sword hid the briefest of snorts at the mild butchering of his name, furrowing his brows together in efforts to conceal some range of amusement or irritation – it wasn’t certain which was which, quelling along his chest. Unfortunately, his ability to parse few words and sentences didn’t seem to instigate or compel her to leave; a common place notion for Caido. He appreciated it in regards towards acceptance of his character, dominion, and entity, but some days it was a means to an end.
Well enough didn’t quite signify anything of worth. Control was a parallel – he’d had dominance, authority, and command over the fires within the Monster Hunter’s Guild, and it still burned. It still had to be destroyed. It still had to fall apart at the seams. A relative unease cast over his form, harbored and steeled through his shoulders. So much could go wrong in so little amount of time – he’d seen it. He’d witnessed it. He’d been a part of it.
And he didn’t know her enough to trust her.
Zuriel’s gaze segmented straight on the Torchliner, as if she could read into her soul. It was purposefully imperial and intimidating, for the unicorn’s haughty personality signified and dignified that others were quite beneath her. It was a visible show of judgement, before she turned her noble head in complete, utter silence, following after Deimos with a swish and flick of her tail.
Stuck with Aurelia for the time being, he speculated ahead, eyes peering forward, into the brush and thickets of wilderness. “Exploring.” He shrugged. “I did not get a chance to do so before the portal froze over.” Only thereafter did he glance over towards her, one brow arched again. “And you?”
Well enough didn’t quite signify anything of worth. Control was a parallel – he’d had dominance, authority, and command over the fires within the Monster Hunter’s Guild, and it still burned. It still had to be destroyed. It still had to fall apart at the seams. A relative unease cast over his form, harbored and steeled through his shoulders. So much could go wrong in so little amount of time – he’d seen it. He’d witnessed it. He’d been a part of it.
And he didn’t know her enough to trust her.
Zuriel’s gaze segmented straight on the Torchliner, as if she could read into her soul. It was purposefully imperial and intimidating, for the unicorn’s haughty personality signified and dignified that others were quite beneath her. It was a visible show of judgement, before she turned her noble head in complete, utter silence, following after Deimos with a swish and flick of her tail.
Stuck with Aurelia for the time being, he speculated ahead, eyes peering forward, into the brush and thickets of wilderness. “Exploring.” He shrugged. “I did not get a chance to do so before the portal froze over.” Only thereafter did he glance over towards her, one brow arched again. “And you?”
it's fear and feeling numb at the same time
stories of a life you should've never been forced to fight
stories of a life you should've never been forced to fight
