[What he says makes her lips thin and her eyes narrow (even if only one seems to, the other hidden by the eyepatch only this demon and a select few have ever seen beneath). A flair for the dramatic, as if this were some theater play or farce by the roadside for some coin.
She might even be offended, the idea that anything but a demon was pitiful, gods-needing things. After all, though she had never relied on the gods she knew in her own world, those that, if they existed, had turned their backs upon jinba… Had she not sworn herself to a war god here? Had she not given him worship and loyalty, all of her multitude of violences pressed into his hands even as those hands betrayed her? If it were anyone else, she would refute them loudly, as steadfastly as she did everything. But here, in front of this thing, just this… she cannot. Not without fear that something foul and rotten might be thrown into her face, and if she cannot turn away and pretend not to see it…
Hayame’s mouth stays shut in the face of the insults. Her hackles stay up. Her grip stays tight upon the bow. A hoof scrapes the metal flooring.
There’s just one last little group before an opening—-]
Have you been enjoying whatever your accursed “gift” has brought you?
[Her voice snaps out a final time. Though she was not positive who could be the one benefiting from whatever magic those she had asked had sensed in the Hag’s Eye, she cannot imagine it not being Sebastian or one of his own ilk- someone who he might at least have close enough to hear from or ask.
But for months there has been only darkness. Not to bathe, not to make love, not to sleep, not to train… She has not taken the eyepatch off the left side of her face but for the occasional wash of the accessory itself… and even then, she switched for a spare.
She would ask “how stupid did you think I was?”, but. She already assumes she knows that answer.]
slams back into inbox ready to prioritize this
She might even be offended, the idea that anything but a demon was pitiful, gods-needing things. After all, though she had never relied on the gods she knew in her own world, those that, if they existed, had turned their backs upon jinba… Had she not sworn herself to a war god here? Had she not given him worship and loyalty, all of her multitude of violences pressed into his hands even as those hands betrayed her? If it were anyone else, she would refute them loudly, as steadfastly as she did everything. But here, in front of this thing, just this… she cannot. Not without fear that something foul and rotten might be thrown into her face, and if she cannot turn away and pretend not to see it…
Hayame’s mouth stays shut in the face of the insults. Her hackles stay up. Her grip stays tight upon the bow. A hoof scrapes the metal flooring.
There’s just one last little group before an opening—-]
Have you been enjoying whatever your accursed “gift” has brought you?
[Her voice snaps out a final time. Though she was not positive who could be the one benefiting from whatever magic those she had asked had sensed in the Hag’s Eye, she cannot imagine it not being Sebastian or one of his own ilk- someone who he might at least have close enough to hear from or ask.
But for months there has been only darkness. Not to bathe, not to make love, not to sleep, not to train… She has not taken the eyepatch off the left side of her face but for the occasional wash of the accessory itself… and even then, she switched for a spare.
She would ask “how stupid did you think I was?”, but. She already assumes she knows that answer.]