DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
It would take time – for all of them – to not linger in the throes of trauma, to not feel it clinging to the surface of their souls. But with the majority of them whole and alive, Halo seemed to have fared better than most. Prepared and stalwart, bound to their oaths of protection, they’d done just that. It was the aftermath that lingered heavily and headily now, made phantoms linger, made memories fester rather than dim. Such were the infernal punctures of war; the onslaught first, and then the vitriol trailing behind.
He studied her for a few moments as she paused, uncertain about what caused the delay – but relieved when the notions seemed to pass. Snorting again, briefly reveling in the stark images beginning to flicker into his mind, he justified the notions with a few droplets of water, shaped to encompass their intended follies and foolishness, before they dispersed back into the tub. The impish grin remained for a few instances more. “It is tradition, after all,” to ensure the juvenile means were readily understood.
Then he listened once more, never quite ceasing in his quiet ministrations, hands touching over pale skin and silver scars, striving to wash away the rush of claws, the amplification of pain. Creating more memories over stark and anguishing ones; head tilting vaguely, watching the suds build upon one another, while truths were uttered and shared between them.
Maybe it was easier on their end – because both of them understood the swift, gnashing, overwhelming nature of war, that he would never make a promise he wouldn’t keep, that he didn’t expect that of her either, and even so, it wouldn’t come to the detriment of their people. Listening to the summary caused his jaw to clench and feather, maybe for Cordelia, maybe for those lost, maybe for the wake of wraiths beginning their march again behind his eyes. The heart of the matter chiseled its way into his own chest, uncertain if there was anything for him to bear – just a viewpoint, an angle, and nothing more. “Had either you or Talyson perished, I could not forgive her.” A breath loosened from his lungs, one hand rising to cup her cheek. “But I will not bear her ill will then either.” For it hadn’t happened – and there were plenty of other credits to Cordelia’s claim. And she could earn her way back into Halo’s graces. There was time, and opportunities, to do so.
He studied her for a few moments as she paused, uncertain about what caused the delay – but relieved when the notions seemed to pass. Snorting again, briefly reveling in the stark images beginning to flicker into his mind, he justified the notions with a few droplets of water, shaped to encompass their intended follies and foolishness, before they dispersed back into the tub. The impish grin remained for a few instances more. “It is tradition, after all,” to ensure the juvenile means were readily understood.
Then he listened once more, never quite ceasing in his quiet ministrations, hands touching over pale skin and silver scars, striving to wash away the rush of claws, the amplification of pain. Creating more memories over stark and anguishing ones; head tilting vaguely, watching the suds build upon one another, while truths were uttered and shared between them.
Maybe it was easier on their end – because both of them understood the swift, gnashing, overwhelming nature of war, that he would never make a promise he wouldn’t keep, that he didn’t expect that of her either, and even so, it wouldn’t come to the detriment of their people. Listening to the summary caused his jaw to clench and feather, maybe for Cordelia, maybe for those lost, maybe for the wake of wraiths beginning their march again behind his eyes. The heart of the matter chiseled its way into his own chest, uncertain if there was anything for him to bear – just a viewpoint, an angle, and nothing more. “Had either you or Talyson perished, I could not forgive her.” A breath loosened from his lungs, one hand rising to cup her cheek. “But I will not bear her ill will then either.” For it hadn’t happened – and there were plenty of other credits to Cordelia’s claim. And she could earn her way back into Halo’s graces. There was time, and opportunities, to do so.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
