Whoa, you let your feet run wild
Time has come as we all go down
The static instantly clinging to his beard caused a snort; hands going upward to attempt to right the hairs back into place. “I hope not,” by way of decree and juvenile complexities, remembering a time and place with the primordial moniker instilled in his blood. “You have already been a bad influence,” arced with another wrinkle of his nose – and with the rising of a mudball from behind her. It formed and pulsed from the radius of his incantations; and with a self-indulgent snicker, he lobbed it in the depths of absolute silence. Save for maybe the unfortunate noise it could make if it reached her back.
Masterful in the art of deflection, another sort of favored oeuvre, the Sword continued his wandering, ignoring the pointed look, the inquiry layered into the murky vestiges. Permitting Belial his vantage point on the ground, the peryton squealed at a very large dragonfly, but otherwise didn’t hasten off in another foolish display – granting Deimos a moment to consider Safrin’s latest enchantments. “What prompted this?” It might not have been a stretch to say merely the goddess’s good will, but he had a feeling there was another behind the concoction, the safety of children. “A soothing thing, to be certain.” Memories flickered briefly to Fiat Lux; days long since past when they hadn’t even considered the motions of sieges. When it’d only been festivals, enriched and lively, decimated and scorched.
His brows furrowed briefly, an indication of thoughts, of calculations, of other factions working their way through his mind. “Would the gods do the same for those who do not want to participate in the war?” The rationale being those too weak, too downtrodden, those occupied by protecting their families and other forces, rather than playing into the battles. Another note of consideration flickered through his brain, and his gaze went briefly to Zuriel. “Or would they see that as cowardice?” Choices and faultlines, all becoming wider and more difficult to parse through as the days stretched closer and closer to battle. But he thought of Halo, with citizens left to fend for themselves as Morgan chose to do nothing.
Which led to Hotaru’s sharpened looks and a deeper sigh reeling its way along his lungs. “A LongNight monster used the portal and attacked the Citadel.” He figured the Valkyrie’s sharp mind would piece together the other nuances: that Morgan’s indulgence in assistance towards the Grounds had meant nothing, that the Ascendeds’ promises hadn’t come to fruition, or that the Voice simply cared very little for the rest of the earth.
Masterful in the art of deflection, another sort of favored oeuvre, the Sword continued his wandering, ignoring the pointed look, the inquiry layered into the murky vestiges. Permitting Belial his vantage point on the ground, the peryton squealed at a very large dragonfly, but otherwise didn’t hasten off in another foolish display – granting Deimos a moment to consider Safrin’s latest enchantments. “What prompted this?” It might not have been a stretch to say merely the goddess’s good will, but he had a feeling there was another behind the concoction, the safety of children. “A soothing thing, to be certain.” Memories flickered briefly to Fiat Lux; days long since past when they hadn’t even considered the motions of sieges. When it’d only been festivals, enriched and lively, decimated and scorched.
His brows furrowed briefly, an indication of thoughts, of calculations, of other factions working their way through his mind. “Would the gods do the same for those who do not want to participate in the war?” The rationale being those too weak, too downtrodden, those occupied by protecting their families and other forces, rather than playing into the battles. Another note of consideration flickered through his brain, and his gaze went briefly to Zuriel. “Or would they see that as cowardice?” Choices and faultlines, all becoming wider and more difficult to parse through as the days stretched closer and closer to battle. But he thought of Halo, with citizens left to fend for themselves as Morgan chose to do nothing.
Which led to Hotaru’s sharpened looks and a deeper sigh reeling its way along his lungs. “A LongNight monster used the portal and attacked the Citadel.” He figured the Valkyrie’s sharp mind would piece together the other nuances: that Morgan’s indulgence in assistance towards the Grounds had meant nothing, that the Ascendeds’ promises hadn’t come to fruition, or that the Voice simply cared very little for the rest of the earth.
Yeah but for the fall—oh, my—
Do you dare to look them right in the eyes?
DEIMOS
