[ He doesn't disagree with that first bit -- Gen has no doubt that some of the Meridian he knows would rather bite their own tongues and choke to death on their own blood than accept a Zenith victory. And while he doesn't really care about the fate of whatever new world will come about if Zenith wins, an uneasy sensation prickles in his chest at the thought of the some of the Meridian he favors choosing such fates instead of accepting their places in a new world where they can probably flourish.
So it's only when Bondrewd keeps going that his brow furrows.
And how can it not? Gen says nothing at first, and doesn't move from where he's leaning against that table, but there are subtle indications in his body language that he's not immune to the overwhelming pressure Bondrewd is starting to exude. The line of his shoulders hardens with tension, and those pointy canine ears of his flick back for a moment; every hair at the back of his neck is standing on end. He pauses before answering less because he needs to think, and more because he needs that moment to steady his breaths and iron his voice flat once more. ]
Didn't you get the order wrong? Feels like you should be starting from that last one before you go straight to cutting off limbs and tongues, you fucking psycho.
[ The insult is said so casually that it could almost come across as friendly, if it weren't for the sharp edge to the way Gen spits out his words. Like hell he wants to imagine some of the Meridian Shardbearers mutilated like that. ]
You're not supposed to talk about people like that if you really 'love' them. They'd probably rather die than exist like that.
[ A guinea pig chooses to come snuffling curiously at him the next moment, and Gen huffs a sigh before nudging it away with the side of his boot. There's the quiet thump of his tail lashing behind him in agitation, knocking against the table's leg, a sharp contrast to his attempts to feign calm. ]
... an' how're you planning on changing their minds? You better not start saying some horseshit about how you're gonna drug them to the gills, or something like that.
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So it's only when Bondrewd keeps going that his brow furrows.
And how can it not? Gen says nothing at first, and doesn't move from where he's leaning against that table, but there are subtle indications in his body language that he's not immune to the overwhelming pressure Bondrewd is starting to exude. The line of his shoulders hardens with tension, and those pointy canine ears of his flick back for a moment; every hair at the back of his neck is standing on end. He pauses before answering less because he needs to think, and more because he needs that moment to steady his breaths and iron his voice flat once more. ]
Didn't you get the order wrong? Feels like you should be starting from that last one before you go straight to cutting off limbs and tongues, you fucking psycho.
[ The insult is said so casually that it could almost come across as friendly, if it weren't for the sharp edge to the way Gen spits out his words. Like hell he wants to imagine some of the Meridian Shardbearers mutilated like that. ]
You're not supposed to talk about people like that if you really 'love' them. They'd probably rather die than exist like that.
[ A guinea pig chooses to come snuffling curiously at him the next moment, and Gen huffs a sigh before nudging it away with the side of his boot. There's the quiet thump of his tail lashing behind him in agitation, knocking against the table's leg, a sharp contrast to his attempts to feign calm. ]
... an' how're you planning on changing their minds? You better not start saying some horseshit about how you're gonna drug them to the gills, or something like that.