( there is no more honest and clear of a deal than this, separated from the world and devoid of any other extraneous or tangential factors. and perhaps it was the best sort of interaction that one could hope for between them, as they were two very different individuals with very different ways of viewing the world (or worlds, as it were) around them. Meridian might come to appeal to gamora because she fostered magnanimity that makoto had long since become fallow to — compassion and generosity were virtues very nearly punishable by death (or far worse) in Hell, so they had been weeded from his formerly-human brain over his last few years. it's not that he's incapable of endeavoring for another, but he needs to be duly incentivized — just like when contracted to a human, he would go to any and all lengths so long as the beleaguered soul gave forth into gold at its conclusion.
so the real question he has to consider now is: would trading some of his Meridian energy for her surplus Zenith be something that would benefit him?
hm...
he nods, seemingly accepting her selection swiftly and without much resistance. )
Is it more that you reject Zenith, then? Rather than succumbing to a yearning for home?
( it's small-talk, really; he's just curious. he reaches to the back of his neck to pull away his shard from where it lodges into the divot at the base of his skull; a dark wine red, it seems nearly black in the dim light but for the bizarre lines of glinting gold that seem to hold its two halves together.
an injury to his soul he had to thank his time in horos for, apparently. )
no subject
so the real question he has to consider now is: would trading some of his Meridian energy for her surplus Zenith be something that would benefit him?
hm...
he nods, seemingly accepting her selection swiftly and without much resistance. )
Is it more that you reject Zenith, then? Rather than succumbing to a yearning for home?
( it's small-talk, really; he's just curious. he reaches to the back of his neck to pull away his shard from where it lodges into the divot at the base of his skull; a dark wine red, it seems nearly black in the dim light but for the bizarre lines of glinting gold that seem to hold its two halves together.
an injury to his soul he had to thank his time in horos for, apparently. )