DEIMOS
what tried to destroy you
didn't have the strength
didn't have the strength
Deimos waited for the inevitable. Death. Damnation. A curse. Some other rendering of disappointment from a deity’s point of view. To be in its clutches now was harrowing; jaw feathering, the trepidation of the unknown crawling –
Which was why it took him a moment at her response, blinking dimly, for the cogs of his brain to start up again.
His eyes shot back up to hers, head no longer bowed, the machinations already beginning to turn. The first statement wasn’t answered for now, but the other, softer whisper, caused his gaze to narrow. His spine to straighten. His entire frame to become the unyielding, unbending force it’d always been. “What do you mean by too close?” The Sword had his suspicions…but the notions had been pinpointed to their strange alliance and friendship. After Neron’s failure and debacle with the Eirachi, surely she wouldn’t have –
He took another breath, and the calculations clicked over. Politics. Something he generally strived to avoid, even in his current position. That he hadn’t seemed inevitable; and his stare widened again as she approached. It wasn’t about the promised reward – but the semblances of warfare beginning to bank and brim and boil over. “I will do my best.” He had no intention of living in a world that would flicker and follow the Voice either.
Forgiveness, leniency, not something he’d ever thought he’d earn. “Thank you for your mercy, and giving me another chance.” He paused as her palm came to his cheek, contorting all the measures in the back of his Machiavellian mind. Her last question actually caused a brief rumble of laughter; though it might’ve been the sudden instance of relief flooding through his veins. “There is always the Greatwood.” With Oliver and company.
Which was why it took him a moment at her response, blinking dimly, for the cogs of his brain to start up again.
His eyes shot back up to hers, head no longer bowed, the machinations already beginning to turn. The first statement wasn’t answered for now, but the other, softer whisper, caused his gaze to narrow. His spine to straighten. His entire frame to become the unyielding, unbending force it’d always been. “What do you mean by too close?” The Sword had his suspicions…but the notions had been pinpointed to their strange alliance and friendship. After Neron’s failure and debacle with the Eirachi, surely she wouldn’t have –
He took another breath, and the calculations clicked over. Politics. Something he generally strived to avoid, even in his current position. That he hadn’t seemed inevitable; and his stare widened again as she approached. It wasn’t about the promised reward – but the semblances of warfare beginning to bank and brim and boil over. “I will do my best.” He had no intention of living in a world that would flicker and follow the Voice either.
Forgiveness, leniency, not something he’d ever thought he’d earn. “Thank you for your mercy, and giving me another chance.” He paused as her palm came to his cheek, contorting all the measures in the back of his Machiavellian mind. Her last question actually caused a brief rumble of laughter; though it might’ve been the sudden instance of relief flooding through his veins. “There is always the Greatwood.” With Oliver and company.
still you stand
sturdy and smelling of smoke
sturdy and smelling of smoke
