DEIMOS
Inciteful taunting was a language both could understand without much prompting; and with a quiet, contented amusement his grin broadened, all boyish charm and unrelenting mischief. The fun was essentially spoiled as she glossed over his intentions – it’d been worth a shot to see if Hotaru would’ve relented into pratfalling into the sea, striving to snag at fish that wouldn’t dare me caught. The brief lull of laughter remained, forged but relatively idle, a mocking hurt flowing through bonds that was an obvious pretense. You believe I would not help you?
Rather than delving into anything resounding in offense, his head tilted, waiting for her judgments. Understood, he rumbled thereafter, pausing to fit the parchment back into pockets.
Then he began: bringing up his hands so they faced one another, all calloused bombardments, so used to holding weaponry – now utilized for creation again. In between the palms a gilded figment arose, shining beacons and golden perplexities, starting out as weaving fibers, before he widened the parameters. Complexities and elements stuck, accrued together, blending and mending and bending until his contortions were at complete control, focus eternal, piercing eyes only gathered on the roots of their certainties. When he was finished, before them was a large bag – not unlike his bag of holding, but with differing capacities. The Sword’s gaze eventually went back to her, and on a sigh, he presented it for another inspection.
--
Deimos has created:
Bag of Silence: A sturdy canvas bag, around six feet tall when closed. At Deimos’s mental command, the bag becomes invisible and completely soundproof.
Rather than delving into anything resounding in offense, his head tilted, waiting for her judgments. Understood, he rumbled thereafter, pausing to fit the parchment back into pockets.
Then he began: bringing up his hands so they faced one another, all calloused bombardments, so used to holding weaponry – now utilized for creation again. In between the palms a gilded figment arose, shining beacons and golden perplexities, starting out as weaving fibers, before he widened the parameters. Complexities and elements stuck, accrued together, blending and mending and bending until his contortions were at complete control, focus eternal, piercing eyes only gathered on the roots of their certainties. When he was finished, before them was a large bag – not unlike his bag of holding, but with differing capacities. The Sword’s gaze eventually went back to her, and on a sigh, he presented it for another inspection.
--
Deimos has created:
Bag of Silence: A sturdy canvas bag, around six feet tall when closed. At Deimos’s mental command, the bag becomes invisible and completely soundproof.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
