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09-27-2014, 07:29 PM
would you mind if I killed you?
Deimos’ version of entertainment ranged from warfare to bloodshed, and with none currently in sight, he took his time in wandering along the trivialities of deities and heavens. If it were possible, his impassive, reticent features appeared even more distant, unyielding, and dispassionate, paying no credence to the unwinding reverence of their chieftain God or regarding the splendor. He held no intentions of dancing, savoring D’art’s wares, or partaking in any sing-along. The glowing mushrooms were ignored, the passionate display of tapestries and fabrics were disregarded, and the wholesome charities of newcomers with invitations at hand were spurned. The beast, the demon, the infidel, sought comfort in the things he knew; veils, desecration, mutiny, and revolution. Instead of drawing himself amongst the shadows, into the mist and depths (perhaps pretending he wasn’t there altogether, disappearing the moment another turned their head), the Reaper maneuvered carefully amongst the entryway – too far to be considered anything more than a marble-cast statue, a fixture of the forgotten décor, a deadly, writhing, nefarious piece eager for temptation to be waylaid. A protective beacon along the charades and follies; as the children of the Basin wound, laced, and plaited their way through merriment and decadence, his pernicious stature would ensure their security, their safeguarding, their defense. A part of his soul, the blackened, nefarious bits (large and imposing, gathering close to the dark, chiseled-out heart), almost yearned for an opportunity to maim, to distort, to destroy some ridiculous, foolish wanderer who dared to trespass, or remained completely oblivious. The latter notion alone kept him along his place, piercing, penetrating blue eyes staring upon the aperture, daring, challenging, provoking, and goading the scenic venue, a chance to spill ichor in the wild essences of throngs and serenades. It’d be the only tune worth hearing: the pull of his sword, the sweep of demise. [Literally just standing near the entryway in case tomfoolery is about. ;D] would you mind if I tried to?
Deimos |
