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11-21-2015, 05:28 AM
i am the vanguard of your destruction
Somewhere around there, the similarities ended. Somewhere around there, the many, many years caught up, and Mauja.. well, he felt like someone had managed to bludgeon him in not only the face, but he heart as well. Deimos was—Deimos was—Deimos was smiling, and Mauja felt his jaw drop to somewhere on the foggy ground. Deimos was smiling. Deimos was smiling?
Surely he must've suffered a heart attack and died on the spot, because how the fuck could it be that Deimos was smiling? Did he even know how to smile? Was that part of his genetics? What God had come down and altered his DNA?
Deimos was smiling.
It was almost enough to make him fall over and weep, and he didn't even know why.
“Mauja – you are King again?” He was just mutely bobbing his head, couldn't trust his voice, that wicked thing quivering with too many things as the familiarity he had sought was shattered by the present—he would not find that here, because the years had moved on, and Deimos' dark muzzle was warm and soft against his own. If he tried to feel it really hard there was a hint of that sinister song, an echo of death's quiver against him—or was it just his imagination? The Dark Lord pulled back, let Mauja be in his life's glory, radiant and lost like a star alone in a dark sky.
Deimos' walls had been breached, let down; his lips knew how to smile and he did not bite Mauja's ass when he encroached upon his personal space—rather, he had met him.
He felt cheated of the stability something known could offer, and at the same time, he wanted to sing and dance and laugh and cry because Deimos, that cold, cold man, had not managed to wither his own heart.
And the surprises weren't over, even if Mauja would've liked them to be—he felt near breaking as it was, wanting to just throw himself at the Reaper, curl up in the dark crook of his throat and cry. But, he was fairly sure the dark man's tolerance—and, err, emotions?—wouldn't extend so far. Mauja had made a mess of himself before others before, and not all had been so tolerant of him.
“This is my son, Erebos—”
Waitwhat? Son? Deimos had a son? Deimos had a fucking son?
About a second later Mauja realized that said fucking son was in the clearing with them, and his eyes snapped to the colt as he put down his herbs and stated he had heard so much about him (the fuck?). "Really," he had said before he knew it, something dry and amused popping out of his mouth while his mind ran in circles and tripped over itself. Well.. yea.. it made kind of sense? He had much of the same build, a long horn like his father (shit, that word applied to Deimos now?), eager eyes, a pleased smile—not raised so tightly within the coils of Death, then. Slowly, Mauja's eyes went to Enna. She had been the one who had attempted to save Aviya.. but surely she wasn't the boy's mother? They seemed too distant, and if she was, wouldn't Deimos have introduced her as such?
"A pleasure," he finally managed to spit out, voice dazed and drawn, bleak, as his fractured mind ran through all the data and somehow tried to not fall apart. He—fuck, he wanted to chase the boy and the healer off and just catch up with the dark stallion, actually learn something about the stoic lord who had never really spoken of his past before Helovia... Granted, a trait they both shared. And in the face of a dark creature who had somehow blossomed into hidden life, like a flower that blooms only in the dark, Mauja felt inferior, lesser, and broken; he stood there like shattered ice bound together by rusted chains, and knew that he was worthless.
"I'm sorry I never came to see you," he went on, voice soft, tinged with his trademark sadness—forgetting all about politics and alliances and everything as he tried to fit four years of his life into his head at the same time, or however long it had been since they met.
[ @Deimos @Enna ]
Surely he must've suffered a heart attack and died on the spot, because how the fuck could it be that Deimos was smiling? Did he even know how to smile? Was that part of his genetics? What God had come down and altered his DNA?
Deimos was smiling.
It was almost enough to make him fall over and weep, and he didn't even know why.
“Mauja – you are King again?” He was just mutely bobbing his head, couldn't trust his voice, that wicked thing quivering with too many things as the familiarity he had sought was shattered by the present—he would not find that here, because the years had moved on, and Deimos' dark muzzle was warm and soft against his own. If he tried to feel it really hard there was a hint of that sinister song, an echo of death's quiver against him—or was it just his imagination? The Dark Lord pulled back, let Mauja be in his life's glory, radiant and lost like a star alone in a dark sky.
Deimos' walls had been breached, let down; his lips knew how to smile and he did not bite Mauja's ass when he encroached upon his personal space—rather, he had met him.
He felt cheated of the stability something known could offer, and at the same time, he wanted to sing and dance and laugh and cry because Deimos, that cold, cold man, had not managed to wither his own heart.
And the surprises weren't over, even if Mauja would've liked them to be—he felt near breaking as it was, wanting to just throw himself at the Reaper, curl up in the dark crook of his throat and cry. But, he was fairly sure the dark man's tolerance—and, err, emotions?—wouldn't extend so far. Mauja had made a mess of himself before others before, and not all had been so tolerant of him.
“This is my son, Erebos—”
Waitwhat? Son? Deimos had a son? Deimos had a fucking son?
About a second later Mauja realized that said fucking son was in the clearing with them, and his eyes snapped to the colt as he put down his herbs and stated he had heard so much about him (the fuck?). "Really," he had said before he knew it, something dry and amused popping out of his mouth while his mind ran in circles and tripped over itself. Well.. yea.. it made kind of sense? He had much of the same build, a long horn like his father (shit, that word applied to Deimos now?), eager eyes, a pleased smile—not raised so tightly within the coils of Death, then. Slowly, Mauja's eyes went to Enna. She had been the one who had attempted to save Aviya.. but surely she wasn't the boy's mother? They seemed too distant, and if she was, wouldn't Deimos have introduced her as such?
"A pleasure," he finally managed to spit out, voice dazed and drawn, bleak, as his fractured mind ran through all the data and somehow tried to not fall apart. He—fuck, he wanted to chase the boy and the healer off and just catch up with the dark stallion, actually learn something about the stoic lord who had never really spoken of his past before Helovia... Granted, a trait they both shared. And in the face of a dark creature who had somehow blossomed into hidden life, like a flower that blooms only in the dark, Mauja felt inferior, lesser, and broken; he stood there like shattered ice bound together by rusted chains, and knew that he was worthless.
"I'm sorry I never came to see you," he went on, voice soft, tinged with his trademark sadness—forgetting all about politics and alliances and everything as he tried to fit four years of his life into his head at the same time, or however long it had been since they met.
[ @Deimos @Enna ]
