02-28-2020, 06:58 PM
Armande smiled. He had expected the invitation, of course. No one could see what Patricus had seen and not be curious. It was not always the same thing that interested people, though. For some, it was his collection of artifacts or the history, the lore. For others, the menagerie. But the dreyken, well, no one could be nonchalant about that. Not that it had been planned. Still...
He chuckled a little on the inside at Patricus' face. The spluttering rage, and the fear behind it. He was not a sadist. He did not play with his prey. One did not live as long as he had by toying with creatures that wanted to kill you, that were created to kill. No, he needed no ego stroking there. He was self aware enough to know that humility was not a trait he had in great quantity.
Few knew the dangers humanity faced. Fewer still could stomach it. And now, things were more precarious then ever. Only a year or two ago had they discovered a connection between humans- humans, not creatures like drainaka or harpies!- with inhuman abilities and the Sickness that had become a pandemic years back. That realization had angered him. They had lost so much momentum. They couldn't afford to lose more. Already, orders had been given to Atharim with connections in the World Health Organization. They needed names. It was not something he relished. But action had to be taken. Humanity would not be enslaved again. Could not.
But now it was time for the Pope. The doors were flanked by Swiss Guards. Garish colors, in his opinion. They looked like clowns. Not that he didn't understand. Dyes had been expensive. Brightly colored uniforms advertised wealth and power.
The table was not a long one and was set simply. Once again, the Pope shone brightly in his white robes, the only hint of color the scarlet slippers peeking out from the hem. As Armande knelt and kissed his ring, he wondered how long the man had stood in the hot shower, trying to feel clean. Dreyken blood was so much denser and darker than human. Blood was hard to remove in the best of times. He would bet the man had sent them off to be burned.
Not that he wore black for that reason. But it did have its advantages, not just in hunting. Prey sometimes wondered if their strikes hit flesh without the obvious indicator. It made them confused, off balance.
He sat at the other end of the table. "Thank you, Holy Father, for the invitation," he said simply.
He chuckled a little on the inside at Patricus' face. The spluttering rage, and the fear behind it. He was not a sadist. He did not play with his prey. One did not live as long as he had by toying with creatures that wanted to kill you, that were created to kill. No, he needed no ego stroking there. He was self aware enough to know that humility was not a trait he had in great quantity.
Few knew the dangers humanity faced. Fewer still could stomach it. And now, things were more precarious then ever. Only a year or two ago had they discovered a connection between humans- humans, not creatures like drainaka or harpies!- with inhuman abilities and the Sickness that had become a pandemic years back. That realization had angered him. They had lost so much momentum. They couldn't afford to lose more. Already, orders had been given to Atharim with connections in the World Health Organization. They needed names. It was not something he relished. But action had to be taken. Humanity would not be enslaved again. Could not.
But now it was time for the Pope. The doors were flanked by Swiss Guards. Garish colors, in his opinion. They looked like clowns. Not that he didn't understand. Dyes had been expensive. Brightly colored uniforms advertised wealth and power.
The table was not a long one and was set simply. Once again, the Pope shone brightly in his white robes, the only hint of color the scarlet slippers peeking out from the hem. As Armande knelt and kissed his ring, he wondered how long the man had stood in the hot shower, trying to feel clean. Dreyken blood was so much denser and darker than human. Blood was hard to remove in the best of times. He would bet the man had sent them off to be burned.
Not that he wore black for that reason. But it did have its advantages, not just in hunting. Prey sometimes wondered if their strikes hit flesh without the obvious indicator. It made them confused, off balance.
He sat at the other end of the table. "Thank you, Holy Father, for the invitation," he said simply.