DEIMOS
the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness
There was a crunch in the snow as he checked over the contents of Zuriel’s bags, and for a moment he thought it was only Belial (landing, perhaps, after making such a racket above). For an instant his eyes did happen to widen – surprised, really, that the once Alchemist had adhered to the note.
He fought the urge to slide his eyes downward, to hide amongst his stoicism. It’d be very simple to hang his head in the guilt and shame of aftermaths. He’d done it so often lately that it’d nearly become a habit. But if Remi was willing to strive some sort of measure in between those fault lines, then that was already better than what Deimos had expected. His hands closed the adornments, and stepped mostly aside from the unicorn, save for using her mane as a distraction for the inner restlessness.
“Yes,” and he swallowed something else down. Probably remorse again. He didn’t feel like naming it. “But I do not mind the cold.” Not one for small talk, and uncertain where to even begin after fallouts and repercussions, he simply began with an apology – some form of explanation that must not have passed muster the last time. His gaze meant to meet the Lullaby’s, forthright and honest. “I regret the events of our last meeting. Your anger was understandable and justified, given the circumstances.” But it’d been such a bizarre situation as a whole – blown apart in the strangest of ways. “I have never seen Ru in such a state, and I would never have asked her to bring the twins. I apologize for the mess and danger they were put through.” So altered from the Valkyrie he’d always known; for the being who’d loved and cherished all her children, despite the impending amount of doom around them. There were multitudes to venture into those notions too, but that was a discussion he'd had with Hotaru more than once, before everything else fell apart. “They are doing well?”
He fought the urge to slide his eyes downward, to hide amongst his stoicism. It’d be very simple to hang his head in the guilt and shame of aftermaths. He’d done it so often lately that it’d nearly become a habit. But if Remi was willing to strive some sort of measure in between those fault lines, then that was already better than what Deimos had expected. His hands closed the adornments, and stepped mostly aside from the unicorn, save for using her mane as a distraction for the inner restlessness.
“Yes,” and he swallowed something else down. Probably remorse again. He didn’t feel like naming it. “But I do not mind the cold.” Not one for small talk, and uncertain where to even begin after fallouts and repercussions, he simply began with an apology – some form of explanation that must not have passed muster the last time. His gaze meant to meet the Lullaby’s, forthright and honest. “I regret the events of our last meeting. Your anger was understandable and justified, given the circumstances.” But it’d been such a bizarre situation as a whole – blown apart in the strangest of ways. “I have never seen Ru in such a state, and I would never have asked her to bring the twins. I apologize for the mess and danger they were put through.” So altered from the Valkyrie he’d always known; for the being who’d loved and cherished all her children, despite the impending amount of doom around them. There were multitudes to venture into those notions too, but that was a discussion he'd had with Hotaru more than once, before everything else fell apart. “They are doing well?”
for the space they take
and so, neither shall I
and so, neither shall I
