you will be gold and gold again

DEIMOS

the resurrected sword

He tilted his head, all the more a predator with the slightest of inclinations, as if studying the ramparts of muck and mire for what they were worth. Some portion of him instantly fought the notions out of principle – seditious and defiant and obstinate to the very core, and sometimes just because he could. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, staring over towards the bath as if it had somehow offended him, listening to the nonsense of dead skin removal and ash qualities. Any embers he’d ever encountered had been out of destruction and mayhem – with the occasional resurrection and renewal tossed in. But there were no symbolic phoenixes here, and clay, dirt, and earth wasn’t going to take away his scars, his lacerations, his wounds. Misgivings and doubts swarmed over him all the more, and the enticement of backing away efficiently, quickly, even if he had to drag Hotaru behind until he’d scraped her off a doorway, immediately curled back into his fathoms.

However, at the suggestion, another scheme began to brew in that Machiavellian mind.

The beast hid the inward snicker; grateful for the moment that she was incapable of obtaining the Attuned bond, and therefore knowing mischief was afoot. “Oh, sure. Talking is one of my favorite things,” sarcasm-laden tones compiled and assembled, continuing to glance over the mud, pretenses guiding his actions now. “What do I need to do?” Uncertain of the protocol – brow arching, gaze flicking back in her direction, a very heavy sigh curling through his chest once more.

under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed