❝ so how did it feel when you killed them? bet it excited you, right? bet you would've bathed in their fucking blood if you could've-- ❞
conversations require every member of the party to actively partake in the topic for its continuation to be secured – to avoid its death, naturally. however, when the subject in discussion happens to be that which strikes a soft spot, head-on, emotions tend to go into overdrive, resulting in a display of attitude that may not be the norm for the individual directly affected. as it seems, the ease with which a particular b r a t approaches delicate themes related to a person’s life is greatly loathed by many – in specific, the vizier of great sindria whose peace and quiet keep meeting interruption too often as of late thanks to the constant visits of the damned kou oracle.
( this is no conversation – it’s a belittling of an entity, someone who wishes to leave the grotesque past of his buried in foul memories that would be wonderful to completely forget someday. )
uncannily do muscles constrict for frame to wholly tense up as digits work on tugging robes back on – a glare is steadily focused on the magi who causes rage to boil within the monarch’s assistant. Is there a way to silence this imbecile for the rest of eternity? or better yet, perhaps end—no, that would make him the monster judal insists ja’far is.
isn’t he, though? isn’t he a monster whose hands are marred and stained with blood from even innocents? isn’t he a monster that should not be in sindria, let alone beside its magnificent king?
“how do you think a c h i l d would have felt?” voice flat, void of anything other than a silent type of seething anger, prepared to burst at any given opportunity. “you really are the worst, judal—get the hell out of here. haven’t you done enough!?” truly, with the fact he went to the lengths of mercilessly bruising pale flesh – from tight grip around wrists and neck, to scratches and b i t e s – whilst simultaneously reminding ja’far of the rotten s c u m that resides under the façade kept up at all times with the exception of behind closed doors… you’d think the magi would be unable to wound the general further. words are powerful, no matter how petty one might believe they are; given the right situation and victim, words can even k i l l.
( & would it make him a true devil to admit that it might have been thrilling, pondering on it years down the road, to take the life of those precious to him? hah, of course it would. and yet, there is no denying such; not when lips curl into a smirk while fingertips work with red threads around the length of arms… and, unknown to ja’far himself, most rukh dances quite excitedly –
in a stained black. )
