unburned and alive

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame The mental image of someone force-feeding a toxic mushroom into someone’s face almost caused a bout of laughter, but he withheld it, circling and concaving it through his ribs. But then Ray seemed to consider other alternatives, and the notion was a moot point. He nodded, jotting the notions down – and boiling mushrooms would likely be plenty easy. Honey could be added to the concoction, just the same as the others. “Discretion,” he added; wrinkling his nose, pondering over applying it the same way they would’ve done the poppy. Or, in some other faction altogether – if other things weren’t coinciding, working, the way they wanted them to. A balancing act. The Sword’s eyes went to her images, and held out a flattened, calloused palm, until his incantations repeated the process from before, and the mushrooms appeared in his hand, unwound from creation and earthen wares. Similar and familiar patterns followed suit, though this time he conjured a pot to boil things within – filling with water, and beginning to churn it with enchantments once more. “Worth a try,” he offered, waiting for the liquid to bubble. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace