[Mini Event] To See and Pray [OPEN TO ALL]

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame He would’ve liked to be out there, streaking across a battlefield and slaying a monster. He would’ve liked to be somewhere doing something. But it was the constant influx of not enough dragging and clawing its way down his soul, his essence, and were he not wearing a mask of utter indifference, the world might’ve seen his frustration. The Reaper, and frankly, here, he hadn’t earned such a title and bearing the dubbing in his mind caused a stab of shame, walked across the boundaries and thresholds, gaze segmented on the incoming onslaught, on the pending doom and damnation (for who?), longing to be a part of methods to the madness. Why hadn’t they taken more individuals? Why not a crowd? Why not segments of warfare and melee? Why only four? His gaze flicked away, and to the fellow, gathered beasts, a calm approach layered in nothing; gaze drifting over those he knew, Rexanna, Amalia, and Rory, striding closer and closer to them as they threaded their opinions into the layers of ominous menace and malice. What surprised him the most was Rory’s reactions: the raw anger, the building, brewing contempt, seizing and sizzling over Outlanders (they, lumping everyone, including him, including Rexanna, all together like they were lesser, like they were naught), over those who’d left them all behind. Rory had always struck him as tranquil, an equable force, but the heathen tilted his head, and addressed them all, reaching across the void, the abyss, of wrath and frustration – it was embedded in him too, but he made certain not to voice it - “What do all of you want?” It was genuine curiosity instead of incredulousness; because the quartet didn’t seem to care about the rest. What could they do in between the fighting and the vexation? master of nothing place of recoil and grace