07-11-2014, 05:49 PM
Michael's sincerity took him by surprise.
What precisely about soldiery did Michael despise? There were countless reasons that a pacifist might loathe the idea of war, but Nikolai listened carefully, and Michael did not strike him as a hater of battle itself. What was it, then that earned his ire?
To speak so freely about the Atharim was enlightening, but on the heels of liberation came an earthen anger.
He barely heard the rest. Supplanting, Hasan, monsters. While Michael's astringent monologue concluded, the trigger in Nikolai's chest would not relent. A cold and ancient offense stirred within, and Nikolai gripped the arms of his chair lest he stand and strike Michael for his foolishness.
"Do not blame me for atrocities you know nothing about, Τιτᾶνες."
Defenses flashed through his mind. It was not his fault! So much was not his fault and yet he was the one dealt the mess. They called him God of the Dead, Θεων Νεκρων, Ruler of Shades, and King of the Dark World.
Fools.
Just as Michael was a fool.
They sat in silence, staring at one another. Whatever Michael saw, Nikolai viewed in like kind. They would be forced to work together, but Nikolai would endure dealings with this man. He'd suffered worse.
"I do not like you any more than you like me."
His response seethed slow and torturous as lava trickling downhill.
Michael's disillusions needed shattered, however. "But Michael, we are the monsters the Atharim claim us to be. Some more than others, but do not fool yourself into thinking you are a benign soul. I need you to face that reality to do what must be done."
What precisely about soldiery did Michael despise? There were countless reasons that a pacifist might loathe the idea of war, but Nikolai listened carefully, and Michael did not strike him as a hater of battle itself. What was it, then that earned his ire?
To speak so freely about the Atharim was enlightening, but on the heels of liberation came an earthen anger.
He barely heard the rest. Supplanting, Hasan, monsters. While Michael's astringent monologue concluded, the trigger in Nikolai's chest would not relent. A cold and ancient offense stirred within, and Nikolai gripped the arms of his chair lest he stand and strike Michael for his foolishness.
"Do not blame me for atrocities you know nothing about, Τιτᾶνες."
Defenses flashed through his mind. It was not his fault! So much was not his fault and yet he was the one dealt the mess. They called him God of the Dead, Θεων Νεκρων, Ruler of Shades, and King of the Dark World.
Fools.
Just as Michael was a fool.
They sat in silence, staring at one another. Whatever Michael saw, Nikolai viewed in like kind. They would be forced to work together, but Nikolai would endure dealings with this man. He'd suffered worse.
"I do not like you any more than you like me."
His response seethed slow and torturous as lava trickling downhill.
Michael's disillusions needed shattered, however. "But Michael, we are the monsters the Atharim claim us to be. Some more than others, but do not fool yourself into thinking you are a benign soul. I need you to face that reality to do what must be done."