unburned and alive

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Proportions and labels, things he’ll sequester away for another day, another moment, another set of plans and machinations. They’re understandable components, pieces necessary to ensure some amount of safety in regards to what they’re orchestrating. Once it was finished, the beast tilted his head, nodding, before being gifted and granted a stick courtesy of Belial, who’d appeared at his side with fangs and wood elongated from his mouth. With a grateful pat and scratch, the Sword took it from the peryton, and set to stirring the concoction. He did manage another hint of a grin at her attempts to get rid of him so easily. “I did want to ask about poisons as well. Nothing too overwhelming or deadly – just enough to make something delirious. Incoherent.” Uncertain of what was around them. Caught in a haze, rather than driven into maelstroms of demise. “Is that feasible?” He could do the same, bartering and hinging on deals – making them in exchange for instruction. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace