12-11-2017, 03:38 PM
He had not been back very long before he'd found himself wrapped in the indigo beauty. They had spent an unmeasured amount of time together—and when the time had come for them to part, they had done so.
And yet, not too long after this rather taudry encounter, the black magician made his way towards the stench of the Ghost King--more a ghost now than when he was here the first time, for Gryffen is nowhere to be seen. Sylva. The would be Taiga. There was no sense of a magic wall anywhere. No sense of nothing other than Thana, holding it all together with a tight iron-fisted grip.
He looks on, walking between the trees and deeper into the deciduous forest. There is a snarl, and a flash of color. Dark eyes get bright with need as he feels his nether regions tightening again—a familiar sensation whenever he was around Thana--and he turned his shoulder towards where the ruckus was coming from.
What he views is a standoff, between the indigo beauty, and the other... a rather troublesome commodity named Lokii. A creature that made his face known far after the son of Mars had had his hayday. Deimos says nothing, other than making a grunt and a cough. He leans against the tree, a dark smile on his eyes. Those black wings of his--they are massive, pulsating and looking to grasp on new flesh. And yet he waits. Thana will know of his presence. But he's not needed here.
He just wants to watch her work.
DEIMOS
cry ‘havoc’ and let slip the dogs of war…
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