06-16-2017, 11:57 PM
There was a time when he would have taken care to make sure that no loose ends were left to push the ends of his mind when he chose to act out. The fact that his wings were buried deep in hie chest, instead of wrapped around her throat while he bathed in her blood, showed just how much self control he had come to have as he had grown older. Excpet that he hadn’t grown older had he. Instead He was dead.
Sort of.
Hell didn’t want him. So technically he was a dead man walking around, broken bones being held together by staples and things sewn together features haphazardly pressed together in ways that couldn’t possibly walk, let alone function with any propriety. And yet, here he was, having successfully died at least three times… Possibly four, but who is counting?
Not this writer… who is sufficiently too drunk to care. Whee.
Point is, he’s dead. Has been dead, will be dead again. The fact that he is living is currently inconsequential. He hasn’t grown, or aged, so forget I ever said that. However, when he comes to stand before Ellyse with his wings buried deep into his body… looking quite like the stupid moron he probably thought he was… he looked at her with quizzical eyes, and then grinned with a dark mirth when he saw that she had the ability to create spikes of bone from her body. Bone bending that. Making oneself look bigger to ward off a predator.
So then. He was the predator and she was the prey then? Beautiful. Deimos did not hide licking his lips while she spoke to him, his dark amusement only increasing when he realized that she did not know who he was.
Well. She would not forget him after tonight.
He laughed darkly, his chest rising and falling…and subsequently his wings too… since.. well. Yeah. The chesty thing.. And then he looks at her, metal spikes protruding from his own body in the very pattern she has created for herself, black blood seeping from every wound as it pusses and bubbles over. “See, Princess? I can do it too… only I am more fashionable. Steel is, you will see, all the rage.” A tongue is drawn tight against his yellow teeth as he smiles darkly at her.
“I am Deimos. And I want you. Do I look sexy as a porcupine?”
DEIMOS
cry ‘havoc’ and let slip the dogs of war…
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