DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
“I will let you know if I feel ill then,” and he rolled his eyes in return, somewhat surprised, truthfully, that he hadn’t been maimed or poisoned before. Instead, maladies like grief, or the petulant shades of blight discrepancies, had crept in, and likely left far deeper impacts. Besides, Zuriel kept his health together – from lacerations and cuts to bruises and whatever other blasted machinations knocked him back.
Leaving the conversation there, and turning it back to ventures not so piercing, he drew the other seeds into leaves as well, before standing upright, a tower again. Dusting his hands free of soil, his eyes narrowed briefly, thinking over timeframes, from disappearances and misgivings, to coups and factions, to uprisings that didn’t last, to pyres and the unknown, bizarre evidence trail left by Neron. But as far as the buildings of Halo, not much had been altered. “Not really.” The weapon itself wasn’t completed yet, though the pillar stood tall, waiting for frames and glass to be set upon it, and the final touches moved together. "We made a way station in Whitebrim." However, that was a distance away, and there'd be no real need to see unless they had an inkling to spring back out into the Tundra's wake. Tilting his head a fraction, watching Belial roaming beside the glass door, waiting for them, his tones tried for a lighter precision, struggling to alter and right the semblances from before. “I built a climbing wall in the barracks,” and he shrugged his shoulders, offering a light, if not slightly goading smile. “But I am certain you will see that eventually anyway.”
Stepping forward, he strode back down the paths, presuming she’d be following, straight to where they’d left furs and layers on coat-hooks. He handed hers over, before putting his on and opening the aperture, permitting the cold from outside to intermingle with the humidity for a moment. Raising his head much like a seditious, defiant predator, he took in the semblances of the frigid wind, calm once more in the chill, and then closed the door behind them. The peryton instantly meandered around their legs, twisting and turning with relative excitement, while Zuriel gave him a look that pinpointed too many things at once. “To the inn,” and he nodded, walking towards the road.
Leaving the conversation there, and turning it back to ventures not so piercing, he drew the other seeds into leaves as well, before standing upright, a tower again. Dusting his hands free of soil, his eyes narrowed briefly, thinking over timeframes, from disappearances and misgivings, to coups and factions, to uprisings that didn’t last, to pyres and the unknown, bizarre evidence trail left by Neron. But as far as the buildings of Halo, not much had been altered. “Not really.” The weapon itself wasn’t completed yet, though the pillar stood tall, waiting for frames and glass to be set upon it, and the final touches moved together. "We made a way station in Whitebrim." However, that was a distance away, and there'd be no real need to see unless they had an inkling to spring back out into the Tundra's wake. Tilting his head a fraction, watching Belial roaming beside the glass door, waiting for them, his tones tried for a lighter precision, struggling to alter and right the semblances from before. “I built a climbing wall in the barracks,” and he shrugged his shoulders, offering a light, if not slightly goading smile. “But I am certain you will see that eventually anyway.”
Stepping forward, he strode back down the paths, presuming she’d be following, straight to where they’d left furs and layers on coat-hooks. He handed hers over, before putting his on and opening the aperture, permitting the cold from outside to intermingle with the humidity for a moment. Raising his head much like a seditious, defiant predator, he took in the semblances of the frigid wind, calm once more in the chill, and then closed the door behind them. The peryton instantly meandered around their legs, twisting and turning with relative excitement, while Zuriel gave him a look that pinpointed too many things at once. “To the inn,” and he nodded, walking towards the road.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
