DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
An eye roll, a sidelong glance one might grant and give a sibling, exuded from his otherwise piercing gaze. “Of course you are,” and whether or not that was a compliment or something else entirely – he laughed, trying so desperately to slip away from all those other edges. Clawing to the surface, striving to rise above the clamoring ilk and ills and everything surrounding, yearning, threatening to consume; an ease in his shoulders as he leaned further back into the chair – bemused, rather than sickened with his own grief.
He didn’t hide the ruffian, smug smile when Belial’s appearance caused another surprise; the small deer insinuating further into the mischief with his own burrowing into the chair’s arm. The peryton took the offered scratches with ease, content, leaning in for more while Zuriel watched from her spot beside the hearth. Deimos took another drink, considering and conspiring in his silence, before prospering information. “Belial.” A name, a symbol. “I only found him because I heard a scream.” Ru would be able to surmise why he’d be the sort to follow such a notion – presuming danger and treachery. “It had been the ningo he’d mauled.” He snorted: carnivorous deer hadn’t been something he’d ever witnessed until this pointed venture – but given the way this world works, it wasn’t a surprise.
More conversation on gods, on Safrin though, peeled away the mischievous grins, and leant, bent, into his quieter deliberations. They unfolded and unfurled into the past, into the rough machinations of goddesses before, and why he’d always been so wary, so apprehensive. “I feel indebted, in a way,” and he shrugged his shoulders. “We had our gods in Helovia, but we could avoid them, for the most part.” Especially considering his nonchalance and indifference towards the God of Time. “In Caido they seem inevitable. And Safrin was the first one to listen to me at all.” And perhaps that was how she snagged – his eyes flickering back to Ru. “Still enamored with Frey then?”
He didn’t hide the ruffian, smug smile when Belial’s appearance caused another surprise; the small deer insinuating further into the mischief with his own burrowing into the chair’s arm. The peryton took the offered scratches with ease, content, leaning in for more while Zuriel watched from her spot beside the hearth. Deimos took another drink, considering and conspiring in his silence, before prospering information. “Belial.” A name, a symbol. “I only found him because I heard a scream.” Ru would be able to surmise why he’d be the sort to follow such a notion – presuming danger and treachery. “It had been the ningo he’d mauled.” He snorted: carnivorous deer hadn’t been something he’d ever witnessed until this pointed venture – but given the way this world works, it wasn’t a surprise.
More conversation on gods, on Safrin though, peeled away the mischievous grins, and leant, bent, into his quieter deliberations. They unfolded and unfurled into the past, into the rough machinations of goddesses before, and why he’d always been so wary, so apprehensive. “I feel indebted, in a way,” and he shrugged his shoulders. “We had our gods in Helovia, but we could avoid them, for the most part.” Especially considering his nonchalance and indifference towards the God of Time. “In Caido they seem inevitable. And Safrin was the first one to listen to me at all.” And perhaps that was how she snagged – his eyes flickering back to Ru. “Still enamored with Frey then?”
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
