|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Wed Dec 04, 2013 11:00 pm
"It's not a standing ovation if you don't stand, child." Bischofite frowned, thoroughly unimpressed. After uncrossing his arms, he reached toward the senshi on the floor and sought her arm, so he might pull her upright again. "And to answer your question, my intent wasn't to kill you. Zat's simply a byproduct of answering your previous question - you asked if I was okay, and I don't quite haf' ze capacity to answer zat in eizer tongue, so I showed you instead. I'd say zat makes more sense zan expressing your desires to gazzer a number of your peers to a singular location to begin a team - and explaining it to your direct enemy, no less."
He paused a moment, thoughtfully scanning the ground where her prone body laid just moments prior. The grass still bent beneath the ghost of her weight. "Zere is somesing interesting you should know of your sphere, when spoken in my natif' tongue. And since it is ze language of ze Nazis, I suppose one could connect it wis' ze Negaverse, if you belief' zat sort of sing. But in German, Pomegranate is pronounced Granatapfel. If you look at it literally, it means garnet apple. Imagine ze connotations of ze phrase. It would be interesting to see if such literary plays were actually predictors for your toughness wis'in our ranks." He doubted it, as he didn't see much merit in superstitious trifles like that, but it would be worth pressing a modicum of hope her way.
But to preach the merits of the Negaverse when he himself stood stripped of all power and rank? Obviously he spun yarns while his audience sat around his spinning wheel. And suddenly, he didn't want to speak for the Negaverse anymore. He wore his uniform for how long, now? Surely the associations it provided became dull and dusty after a time.
"For a while, I considered never powering up again. Since sings were simpler as a civilian, zere wasn't much to dissuade me from shirking my duties for life. I don't sink anyone on my side or yours would'f minded if I quit my duties entirely." A sardonic laugh punctuated his statement. It felt sharp - almost raspy. "Unfortunately I can't do zat if my superior knows where I lif' and what I look like. Ridiculous, isn't it? It's like zey want me to look on in silence while ze officers around me suffer and fail." Their conditioning, or Serpentine's conditioning, led directly down that path.
"But given your description of ze White Moon Court, I wouldn't be any happier zere. I'd lose my favorite abilities, and ze only merits would be possibly forgetting about my family or all ze machinations I'f planned and executed during my career." Once again he folded his arms about himself, but this time to tuck his hands beneath his warmer biceps. He had forgotten how the cold ate at him when he remained idle for too long; even if Destiny City didn't snow with the ferocity of Dresden, algid temperatures still had the same result.
He sighed, growing increasingly tired of his jailed position. "It looks like our choices are a crapshoot, to put it plainly."
After a pause, a small smirk tugged at his lips and he regarded her with a mischievous glance. "Your chest hurts, doesn't it?"
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Dec 04, 2013 11:46 pm
Persephone huffed, taking his arm and allowing him to pull her up. There seemed to be quite a lot of him moving her around like a rag doll, but then again, it wasn't as if she had much of a choice. She would much appreciate the day she had a delayed growth spurt or something and moved from "minuscule" to just "smaller than average."
"Point taken, it hurts in ways that I do not have adequate profanities to describe," she said, her voice somewhat strained. Her legs were a little shaky, and she opted to find her own lovely supportive tree to lean against rather than collapse embarrassingly against someone who, as he had reminded her, was an enemy, pleasant chats aside.
"Granatapfel," she murmured, turning over the German name for her sphere. "Yes, if I could be as hard as garnet, I would like that." To be something solid, instead of a small teenaged girl easily bent and broken and stepped on. She was so very tired of being stepped on, both as Persephone and as Caitlyn. It became very exhausting very quickly.
She tilted her head to the side. There were only two people who knew her civilian identity - well, three, of one counted Derp, but Derp's knowledge of her was far more superficial than Jude's or Mei's. She wondered what they would think if Caitlyn Masters suddenly went missing with no explanation, and Sailor Persephone was also nowhere to be found. She would have to extricate herself from both lives, she supposed, if she really wantd to be done with this Senshi nonsense.
"A crapshoot indeed," she agreed. "You'd be miserable in the White Moon, I think. No offense, but I doubt you'd make a particularly good do-gooder and protector of the innocent. Not that I do, either. Whoever hands out Senshi starseeds kinda ******** up giving one to me, I think." No noticeable physical prowess, all the self-esteem of the average piece of roadkill, not evenqrticularly good at flowery speeches or flashy entrances.
She narrowed her eyes somewhat distrustfully. "Yes, it does, quite a lot," she said. She did not like the look of mischief in his eyes (even if, had it been anyone else, she might have admitted to finding it a little attractive. No, no, this was Bischofite, she was not going to start thinking of him like that.)
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 05, 2013 10:53 am
"Want to make it hurt a little more?" He asked with a cheshire grin unfurling on his features. If she declined, he wouldn't object - it was good for him, to some extent. And if she agreed? Well - he could dress it up to be a perilous scene, with an anticlimactic finish.
After straightening up, Bischofite kicked at a small sprout only a foot away from its parent tree. It bent wit the elasticity of any youth, but with enough force, the vibrant green stem snapped and exposed its supple core. "But if you would prefer discussing my absolute lack of viability as a knight, zat is fine too. If we're going to be honest here, I haf' no intention of saving people in ze conventional sense. It's too simple and weightless. And what I do now is simply a different form of salvation - deas' grants a reprief', and zose zat survif'e can enjoy an enriched life given ze peril zey suffered from ze tribulations I compose. And as a knight, I imagine I would do ze same - you and Ida might argue against it, zat I might actually manifest some empas'y for people, but neizer of you met me before corruption. I was a misansrope long before ze uniform.
"In trus', knighthood is a temporary fix to a permanent problem. It's a quick bandage wis' a prayer attached, in hopes of staving off exsanguination. I could not fight alongside your peers and support zeir blindly insane idea of protecting ze people, not on such an obviously superficial level."
Once he broke the chute off entirely from the budding plant, he gestured toward her with the admittedly whiplike stalk. "And if we talk about you as a corrupted senshi, ze prospects aren't much better. Would you be able to take a life, even? Or would you spend most of your time talking wis' ze opposition as you do now? I'd imagine you wouldn't make much headway like zat in eizer faction.
"But if you would indulge a little of my curiosity, you mentioned earlier zat we are all reincarnations. So what were officers before, and is it possible to see visions of ze past like you had on your dead planet?" He wouldn't mind seeing his predecessors, if there was indeed a long line of Bischofites. And if there were, did the lot of them manifest that same ruthlessness toward others or was he more of the noble sort in the past? Maybe all the Bischofites of the past were women. Or maybe Persephone just duped him with a massive crock of s**t before.
It would lead to him respecting her more, at least.
Next he spoke, though his tone dropped in volume. "Grant me zat, hopefully sans lies, and I promise I won't try to tear your starseed from your chest again." He even raised his right hand, not that it meant anything. Should they meet again under more businesslike circumstances, that promise wouldn't stand. And perhaps he was looking forward to it, to see if she truly trusted him despite his revolting lack of ethics, or if she actually expected him to pull it and keep it that time.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 05, 2013 12:52 pm
"No," Persephone replied, very firmly, "I don't actually enjoy lots of pain and suffering, it just sort of happens to me." Having her starseed ripped was exactly enough pain in her chest for one day. "And I do not trust that look on your face right now." She had never seen him look so mischievous, and based on past experiences, it seemed likely that he meant literal actual pain, maybe another grab at her starseed, which - no thank you. Once was enough for her, preferably over the rest of her lifetime.
Somehow, it came as no surprise to her that Bischofite had been as he was long before he was infected with Chaos. He'd said so before, even - and besides, it wasn't as if there were requirements to receive a powered starseed. His Knight weapon might have found him first, instead of whatever General corrupted him, and he would have been a soldier of Order with the same views.
She laughed, and then her breath hitched and she put a hand over her chest. "Ow bad plan," she confessed, but the grin stayed on her face. "Like I said, absolutely miserable. You'd spend way too much time listening to your allies telling you to protect civilians instead of harming them, that you are a defender of Order and peace instead of a violent force, so on and so forth." Things that, on the face, she did tend to believe - she wanted to be a proper magical girl. She suspected, however, that she was far more Madoka Magica than Pretty Cure. Ah well, life couldn't all be sohujo anime, she knew that well enough.
Her eyes narrowed a little. He didn't have to threaten her - there was no danger in telling him what she knew of the reincarnation process.
"As far as I know, yes; it's the reason officers purify into Knights." She explained. "Presumably you were, a thousand years ago, a Knight of some planet or other. As Knights do now, you had a Wonder that was under your protection, magic, so on and so forth. I'm not...sure you would be able to have visions of your past life, though." She frowned. "I only have them on my planet, so I assume you'd only have them if you could somehow get to your old Wonder - and I don't know if that's even possible for Chaos agents." She spread her hands out and shrugged, an admission of lack of knowledge.
"I've told you all I know, which isn't much, but I'm not sure how much anyone knows. If you want a fuller explanation of the whole mess you'd probably have to ask someone who's been doing this longer, sorry." She smiled wanly. "Does that promise not to try and take my starseed again hold just for tonight, or after?" Clarifications were important. "Because I'm going to call bullshit if it's meant to be permanent." There were too many ways that they could meet as enemies where not trying to kill her would be conspicuous.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 05, 2013 8:23 pm
"Suit yourself," he returned with a miffed expression. A manipulative ploy, really - he was somewhat relieved she turned him down. Bischofite may lack a reliable, constant self-esteem, but that didn't mean he appreciated jokes and jeers made about his misfortune. And to show her his weapons would beg for that response, surely. Who wouldn't snipe with snide remarks about jelly bracelets as a weapon of destruction?
"You're assuming I'd listen." Bischofite only shrugged nonchalantly. "Zat being said, you must admit it's a pretty laughable concept to consider me a knight, no matter ze age. A tausend years past or yesterday. Can you see me protecting wonders, wielding magic and a useless weapon zat I might mete out concussions wis'? Zat's part of ze reason I am interested in zis tale of past lives. But ze more I hear about it, as you explain it, it sounds impossible to access any real information about my 'former self' wis'out actually defecting. And giving up my abilities just for a chance to reach a broken planet and dig srough ze ruins of a wonder, just for a glimpse of a flashback? It's ridiculous."
He really wanted to tell her I'm stuck and I'm tired. He wanted to tell her I don't know if I have the drive to keep up these halfassed charades. He wanted to tell her of the wondrous, unspooling relief provided by pushing morphine into his system, by slowly poisoning his liver and losing the inclination to eat regularly. But that would be a show of weakness intolerable to the opposing faction, wouldn't it? She'd blanch at such words coming from one known for lethal acts, chide him for sounding like a spoiled teenager, remind him that he ended better lives than his own.
But life brimmed with sad stories, didn't it? Life wore swaths of should've said and didn't want and couldn't have. Maybe suffering didn't merit change at all. Maybe it only assured the afflicted that they were still alive.
That knowledge only hurt those who recognized it.
Despite his desperate want to allow his shoulders to slump and his gaze to wither, to focus on realms far from here, to just go inert for a while, he forced a c**k of his head and an arched eyebrow at her inquiry about his starseed promise. The lieutenant laced his fingers together in front of his chest and pointed toward her with both index fingers pressed together. "Sometimes it's more fun to maintain a little mystery, wouldn't you say? You're left wondering, a little scared maybe, but zere's always zat what if to keep you occupied for a while longer. For me, to lif' is to struggle against boredom, so if I can haf' my mysteries and leaf' a few in my wake, zat is enough for me.
"So ask yourself, Persephone - would zat promise hold for one night or indefinitely? Would I even honor a promise at all?" All rhetorical questions, staged to focus on something a little less depressing than his absolute dead-end within the Negaverse and life itself.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 05, 2013 9:54 pm
She hummed, crossing one arm over her chest and resting the elbow of the other in it, hand at her chin, as she took a moment to survey him. "You're right, picturing you as a Knight is a difficult thing to do, though that may be familiarity. I'm still having a little trouble emotionally accepting you as a Lieutenant." Her tone was light, playful, but she was serious.
"And I am also going to have to agree that it would be a poor reason to purify..." Purifying simply to access your previous life? "The memories aren't worth that much. I usually just end up depressed because past-me was pretty much literally everything I'm not. About the only things we share are a face and a fuku." Kore was graceful and elegant and managed to take every feature Persephone hated in herself and make it look lovely. It wasn't fair - the woman had been dead for a thousand years and the current Persephone was bitterly jealous of her and the happiness she had obviously had.
Was that even fair, to be jealous of the dead? For all she knew, Kore's last years, last months, last moments had been nothing but horror and nightmares. She had neither witnessed her own death nor found her own tomb, and it was entirely possible that the previous Senshi had never been buried.
"Mystery is cute and all," Persephone said, her voice as light as she could make it in face of the suddenly dark turn of her thoughts, "but when my life literally hangs in the balance, concrete answers are best." She knew the questions were rhetorical, but she took a stab at answers anyway.
"I have no reason to trust that it will even hold for tonight, but I'm going to anyway," she said, "because you took it once and put it back. However, it is literally impossible for you to promise that it will last beyond this. The Negaverse is structured. What if your superior officer demands my death? You won't have a choice, will you?" It was perhaps unlikely, but not at all impossible.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 05, 2013 10:39 pm
Bischofite could not suppress a flinch when she overtly reminded him of his demotion. Soon afterward he eyed her with a leery, cold ire to dissuade her from further folly. Given all the time he spent trying to avoid thinking about the tumultuous events culminating in his demotion, it seemed the universe planned to bore it into his mind indefinitely. "You're not helping your chances of survival by reminding me of it." He wasn't sure which starseed he wanted to pull permanently at this point.
"We are all greater disappointments of ze previous generation." That much was evident in the acerbic manner that Brian treated his prodigal son. It was evident in the broken home stories, the shattered life stories, the torn asunder heart stories spattered throughout Destiny City like blood spray. Surely they've both heard them, as they've been exposed to some firsthand. Happiness proved a commodity these days - a commodity no one could afford. "A tausend years ago, sings must'f been very different. And wis'out ze medical advances we haf' today, zey hadn't ze means to sustain ze weak. So we water down our bloodlines wis' ze useless and weary, and all we haf' to our names is red water while our ancestors bled viscous blood. We're piss from a long line of slow demise. You find ze same conclusion in pedigreed dogs: snuffling pugs whose respiratory system is warped terribly from constant inbreeding. We're no different - shitty facsimiles of ze ones who deserf' to walk ze ears'."
Bischofite's state of mind only delved further at the reminder of her seriousness toward the question she asked. She wanted answers, not trivialities - but all Bischofite had to offer was wind and smoke. Blow enough of it around, and maybe someone would believe it. Maybe all the nuances in life that he appreciated might mean something to someone else - like the mystery of whether he'd live through the day.
The lieutenant watched her wearily. Losing steam, he didn't have the motivation to keep up a cold exterior much longer. The roots jutting from the ground looked inviting enough, so he took a seat atop a knotted, almost entirely exposed root that arched about an inch above the ground before descending beyond vision. Dusty as it was, he didn't mind it much. He couldn't look any worse than he did now - not even as a corpse. "I'm going to be frank wis' you, since we don't share ze same appreciation for life's idosyncrasies. Ze Negaverse is a military organization. A military organization governs its participants on a superficial level - zey provide ze soldier wis' ze tools to succeed, and in return ze soldier operates based on ze orders given for a finite and agreed upon lengs' of time. I know zis much, as my Bruder joined ze German military for a while.
"If ze Negaverse were a religion, which is somesing zat governs ze fundamentals of man, zen I would haf' no choice but to accept zeir order and kill you as demanded. It would not be a choice left up to me, as my basic philosophies and beliefs tie into ze religious establishment. You would die, because I could not sustain such a heavy betrayal of somesing zat became a basic part of me. Luckily, zat isn't ze case - if an officer demanded I kill you, zey cannot make ze final choice for me because ze Negaverse did not build my belief system. Zey did not warp ze basics of my psyche to fit zeir cause. So I would have to weigh your continued existence against ze ramifications of betraying an order. If I found it in my favor to kill you, I would. If I sought it more beneficial to openly disobey, I would.
"But right now... Ze odds are looking in your favor." He admitted his final statement with more dreariness than he would've liked, but the fact remained that a relatively harmless and misguided senshi likely affected more lives than he could as a general. And if he lost all will to power up anymore, it only emphasized that fact. The heavy hand of Serpentine's punishment could only mete out motivation for so long...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Dec 07, 2013 12:07 am
She looked rather like she wanted to melt into the tree behind her - and if pressing up against it as much as she could worked, she might have. "Sorry," she said. It had been a thoughtless comment, and as thoughtless comments often ended up doing, she'd stumbled upon a sore spot. "Should've thought before I spoke." As usual. Did she ever really think before opening her mouth? Maybe occasionally, but it was a rare and special thing.
It was unfortunate, she supposed, that she was confronted with someone who did, because even if his philosophy was incompatible on a basic level with her own - probably because she was undeniably one of those weak dissapointments he spoke of, and she proved it with her every action - he at least had firm beliefs and could express them in a way she often felt eluded her. She opted to dodge the discussion of what boiled down to social Darwinism - because what could she say other than an argument that it wasn't necessarily bad?
When he sat down, so did she, automatically. It was genuinely fascinating to her that he would consider disobeying orders - and while she wasn't sure it was because it was her, or simply because he was cheesed off with the organization as a whole (and he'd been kicked down two ranks, who wouldn't be?) it was something she had to consider. Camelot had been so certain that the Negaverse was full of slaves to Chaos - that in the end, they had no free will, whether they thought they did or not. To hear a member of the organization contradict that was a blessing, because it meant maybe some of the other things Camelot had theorized about Chaos weren't true. And what did he know, anyway? He had never felt the touch of corruption, she was sure of that.
"I'm flattered," she admitted, "that you might defy orders for me...Though interestingly that goes directly against most of the theories I'ce heard about Chaos. Most on my side seem to believe it works much more like a religion - one of those creepy cult-y ones where you hand over your free will to a charismatic leader and then when he's threatened he talks everyone into drinking cyanide-laced Kool-Aid." The reference might be lost on him - how well known was Jonestown, outside the US? - but either way, it formed a frame of reference.
"It is legitimately comforting to hear an officer say the opposite. To a degree I would not have expected." It meant that if she followed through on the desire to change, she might not be surrendering as much of herself as she'd feared. It made the whole process seem less intimidating, on the whole.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 12, 2013 11:26 am
"Utter lack of cognition aside..." Bischofite offered wary forgiveness. Persephone didn't seem the type to take snipes here and there to whittle away her opponents, as she certainly hadn't quite stood up to him or his antics as of late. A strange girl, really - one who played along with his destructive ploys and only stood her ground when he requested outright murder. Requested? Demanded. Trading lives - he knew it as a currency these days. A morbid barter system he enacted to sate his own curiosity and unravel the mysteries around those who confront him.
Strangely, Persephone essentially asserted that no life was worth equal or less than her own.
Bischofite's fingers twitched idly, searching for the hem of his jacket to fiddle with. He wanted to smoke. However, such trifles were lost in Negaspace now - awaiting the relinquishing of his uniform to find existence once more. "I'm pretty sure bos' sides are full of bullshit." His words came clipped and strained with his frayed nerves. Strange how addiction seemed to just... take over once the roots were thick enough. "Benitoite believes zat ze senshi seek zeir moon queen so zat zey can enslave all of us to her. And ze rest of ze planet too. But it's pretty obvious to me, upon talking wis' ze enemy, zat such antics are lost on zem and zey often favor zeir own freedom or haf' little loyalty to zis fairytale zey call a queen.
"If your side wants to belief' zat we're all tortured souls enslaved to Chaos, let zem. It's convenient. It exonerates us of our crimes and gives zem a reason to falter when ze chance comes to kill one of us. You can tell zem zat Bischofite is of weak mind and weak will, just a vessel for chaos to haf' its fun and I might get some interestingly pitiful glances from your teammates." He offered a laugh, but it sounded hollow.
Cigarettes. He could be smoking right now. He could tap out the ashes atop tree roots and watch then fizzle out with little repercussion. He could breathe smoke and feel his nasal passages burn with its heat. He could die a little with every breath.
Sometimes Bischofite lived too much. He had to tone it down somehow. It gets overwhelming after a while.
"Maybe you find it hardens your resolf'e to hear zat officers can sink and act for zemselfs. If it does, congratulations - you're now ze White Moon's most logically sinking asset. But if you're still considering giving yourself over to Chaos... Some sings just get a little easier wis' Chaos in your soul." And smoke in your lungs.
The once-general found the tree bark suitable for working out his addictions, so he tore at it relentlessly while he continued his line of thought. "I lif' wis' ze general Benitoite, you see - he's markedly different in person: meek, mild-mannered, impossibly and nauseatingly proper." Oh, Alex, I haven't really told you what happened. Maybe if I'm lucky, you won't ask how the veteran lost his pride. "You can tell, sometimes, by looking at someone, zat zey're not really cut out for murder. Zat zey never considered it before, you see. And when I look at him out of uniform, I sink: you couldn't possibly kill someone. You'd sink it's impolite. You'd blanch at ze mess. But he does haf' ze heart enough to empasize, and I sink zat's perhaps ze most defining factor of zem all.
"If Benitoite was a knight, I don't sink he'd kill anyone. But if I were a knight, I'd level ze city. So I guess ze only real change is zat we can rationalize away murder a little easier zan you."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 12, 2013 6:09 pm
Persephone had to clamp a hand over her mouth to cover a laugh when Bischofite explained Benitoite's beliefs. This was a serious discussion, and giggles were pretty unwarrented, but wow, really? She remembered that night when they'd both ended up with coffee, almost a year ago now, which ranked as probably the second or third most surreal thing that had ever happened to her, warring with chatting with Leto after the Eternal had tried to kill her and and beat out only by the conversation she was having right then. He'd seemed nice and polite and sane, and even though she'd seen him twice since as an enemy, she definitely hadn't pegged him as the crazy conspiracy theorist type.
"I see your point. Let them believe what they believe, and if it makes them dumb enough to hesitate, well - so much the better." She nodded, looking a little amused. There was a sort of benefit to being pitied, because then perhaps a few sweet words would be enough to bring you over. If your enemies are worried about talking you over, they're not worried about how quickly you might kill them.
All perfectly logical, in its way.
She shrugged. "To have it harden my resolve, I'd have to still see the Negaverse as an enemy, and that gets harder every day." Her expression twisted into an ironic smile.
"Besides, it makes sense that Chaos would make killing easier, in a way. You have military rank and dress." She shrugged. "We're all soldiers, one way or another - it's what 'Senshi' means, when translated from Japanese - but the Negaverse is far more of a military than the White Moon, and what is lowering your inhibitions about killing but perfect military training? We'd probably do better, on the whole, if Order did that too. The longer we fight a war unwilling to kill because we think we're the 'good guys' and we think we're collectively Captain America or some s**t, the more collateral damage there is and the more innocent bystanders suffer."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Dec 19, 2013 12:39 pm
"You follow my points easily enough." Persephone grasped the gist of what he explained easily enough. He didn't need to expound on previous statements or reiterate himself in order to explain his point. Persephone proved a capable companion in conversation - he needn't escort her through his beliefs for her to grasp what so many of her peers overlooked, willingly or not. "Everysing is useable to your advantage, if you haf' ze mind for zat sort of sing." She obviously did, or she'd have balked at him for his insidious views of mercy and opportunity.
Despite the fact that she finally caught a glimpse of his strange wavelength of thought, he found it increasingly difficult to focus on the topic. Even with his fingers sunken into bark, Bischofite could not wrench himself from his incessant need to smoke. He found it bitterly curious how addiction compounded on itself... Now he found himself constantly yearning for some means to deaden the painful sharpness of his mind.
He was too conscious. Too awake. Too sober.
It panicked him now, more than it ever did before. He might've settled into her company well enough at an earlier date, before his demotion, but now they passed a solid pair of hours since his last smoke, and his lungs cracked and yawned for another touch of nicotine. Something to quell the yearning - it didn't matter how corrosive the substance might've been. Certainly setting Persephone alight and inhaling her very ashes would've sufficed, but the girl held more use than a meager sacrifice toward addiction.
"Good and evil is an engineered concept, courtesy of religion. What I do is evil, what you do is good - but zat's an outmoded and oversimplified classification for our activities. Zere's no good or evil - it's just a simple way to compartmentalize our actions into somesing easily digested and dealt wis'. In reality, what I do is also good - zose who survif'e come away wis' so much more need to experience zeir lives razzer zan coast srough it inconsequentially. Someone who almost died is bound to wake up ze next morning and quit treading water. After all, zey could'f left a very meager legacy."
Bischofite flinched slightly when he snapped a fingernail on the bark he constantly clawed. He couldn't linger much longer now. "As much as I'd like to continue discussing such matters wis' you, I just broke a nail. Now considering I am part of ze Negaverse, which is wholly obsessed wis' its public image, zey'd frown on my sticking around while my obviously impeccable appearance is marred. It's a PR sing, you see." Bischofite arched an eyebrow at his company while he straightened his jacket, which still hadn't manifested a substantial wrinkle from their utter lack of activity.
"We'll meet again, Persephone - maybe under different circumstances. We might haf' a little more to discuss zan beliefs across factions, or past lives zat may or may not be a lie. Maybe battle wounds, maybe eulogies, maybe your corruption. Until zen, stop looking at ze world in terms of good and bad for a while. Maybe you'll start to see sings my way more often." While he spoke, Bischofite stepped backward through the forest, treading over various twigs and underbrush that snapped effortlessly due to winter's cold draught. For a moment, he shut his eyes and recollected the alleyway he often used to power up, but the enduring presence of the wind through the leaves confirmed that he still couldn't teleport. His effort amounted to nothing.
Instead he continued his retreat through the woods, his trek through potential graves unending until the road peeked out between the leaves.Die Fluegel der Freiheit fin on my end! grats on corrupting her!
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
