Team Phosphorus Mission 5 Part 2Ganymede had always considered himself too stubborn to die. During the dubiously moral period that was his youth, he had lived a life which only the ferocious and the perverse could survive, and he had been a little bit of both. Over the course of a few years, he had been gored, cut, and crushed, and in spite of it all he had always come out with his antlers driving into someone else's gut.
Right now, though, he was dropping. He was falling down through a pitch darkness that didn't seem to end, and he was expecting to die when he hit the ground. The drop was too long, his body was too weak, and just a bit of tenacity couldn't hold up against cold hard physics. He didn't even have the energy to be angry about itnot angry at that stupid dragon, or that idiot Havelock for doing this, not at Destiny, and not at himself--and that was quite a feat. No, when he landed he thought he was going to smack his head open on a stone and lie there twitching as the insides of his skull drained ou
Team Phosphorus Mission 5 Part 1It didn't even hurt anymore.
When Ganymede had first started this journey, his legs had felt broken. The ice, which was a ferocious, biting creature of teeth and nails, had clawed at them, and fatigue had burdened them, and if he had been able to, if he had thought if it was even an option, he would have succumbed. But hours had passed, and then a day, then two, and then it had stopped. It had simply stopped.
The Stantler had been walking so long that his legs now seemed mechanicalunfeeling, and automatic, and cold. Someone had told him about muscle memory once, though he hadn't listened very carefully because at the time he hadn't really cared, but he liked to imagine that that was what this was. Beaten into them like the steps of an impossible dance, or the rhythm of an indescribable song, all his legs recalled now was walking, and so, instinctively, that was all they did.
So Ganymede kept going forward and forward and forward, unthinking, because he simply didn't know h