DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
The temptation to behave like an insolent child remained in the stance of his sitting arrangement – glaring at the fire, at his surroundings, from the innocuous tea pot, to the unicorn who simply had the misfortune of being in his surly presence. The last of his guards sheepishly hastened off, and then the monolith was simply left in his brooding, and the only alteration at Hotaru’s presence, glaring down at him, was to furrow his brows deeper.
Half a snarl seemed emboldened and apparent on his mouth, and he wondered how quickly he’d be able to bolt from his seat. A series of calculations ran through his mind, harpooning and focused on the preamble of a quick evasion and escape. The eagle would be the fastest shift, but then he’d have to alter back in order to open the door. The hellhound could instigate a series of fires, a long enough distraction for him to slip free, back out into the landscape, and only suffer the consequences of a damaged building and volatile Valkyrie later.
He’d already considered laying waste to everything around him when the hand was extended, and by habit, he’d already taken it and been removed from his seat. A feral sort of snort billowed from his chest, feet yearning to dig into the columns of woodwork and stay like an obstinate mule. “I do not doubt your expertise,” even if it didn’t seem it from his glower and subsequent eyeroll. But his pride was certainly a fickle, defiant notion even at the best of times, and he couldn’t deny the range of tension throughout his entire being. He’d just ascertained that was how he was and how he’d live his multiple lifetimes – one Colossus of unyielding enigmas. “What is the mud’s purpose?” Not a yes or no by any means; curiosity for curiosity’s sake.
Half a snarl seemed emboldened and apparent on his mouth, and he wondered how quickly he’d be able to bolt from his seat. A series of calculations ran through his mind, harpooning and focused on the preamble of a quick evasion and escape. The eagle would be the fastest shift, but then he’d have to alter back in order to open the door. The hellhound could instigate a series of fires, a long enough distraction for him to slip free, back out into the landscape, and only suffer the consequences of a damaged building and volatile Valkyrie later.
He’d already considered laying waste to everything around him when the hand was extended, and by habit, he’d already taken it and been removed from his seat. A feral sort of snort billowed from his chest, feet yearning to dig into the columns of woodwork and stay like an obstinate mule. “I do not doubt your expertise,” even if it didn’t seem it from his glower and subsequent eyeroll. But his pride was certainly a fickle, defiant notion even at the best of times, and he couldn’t deny the range of tension throughout his entire being. He’d just ascertained that was how he was and how he’d live his multiple lifetimes – one Colossus of unyielding enigmas. “What is the mud’s purpose?” Not a yes or no by any means; curiosity for curiosity’s sake.
under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed
my head is bloody, but unbowed
