[ Makoto's inability to comprehend Abel's response is predictable, even if it only further speaks to the dissonance lurking inside the demon. with each passing second, with each minute alteration of the Kenoma's expression, with each faint and subtle twitch or tension, involuntary or otherwise - Makoto expresses what he would not put to words. Abel knew it, of course; he would not have said what he did without feeling confident on the subject. he would never presume to have the other man 'figured out,' or even claim to have some deep, solid grasp of his person--
but he knows what someone in pain looks like. he knows what it is to see someone who had been beaten down by his reality, discarded and deemed 'lesser' by others. the insecurity, the inferiority it brews is the truth behind that ruffled pride, Abel thinks; whether he's right or wrong - it doesn't matter. these are his beliefs today, sitting here at this table alongside his friend.
whatever Abel might offer in the way of answer to Makoto's statement is interrupted by the return of the barman who mumbles something almost too low to make out about 'not causing trouble,' sliding their drinks of choice onto the table for each before once more taking his leave. it seems none here are especially interested in lingering at the booth against the far wall.
the priest ignores this delivery for the moment, eyes still fixed somewhere unseeing upon the tabletop - and though the din of the tavern is little more than a subdued buzz of background noise, his voice is so soft as to almost become swallowed by it. ]
Do you believe you have nothing left to lose...?
[ that he had thrown himself into the flames, already found himself consumed by them in their entirety - perhaps even believed that he had done so willingly? does he believe he's mastered it - the feeling of his insides being rendered to a charred, spiteful content that only need survive long enough to see his objective through?
what a sad, horrid thought. ]
If that's the case... if that's truly what you think-- if you really believe that... I fear you'll discover there is always something more to lose, in time.
[ though his hands finally come to reach out and cup the frosted mug and to drag it toward him absently, it is apparent that his attention remains on the youth with those inhuman eyes. ]
Numbing yourself to the pain of being flayed alive-- it's issuing a challenge. It's asking the universe to teach you that you can feel a pain far worse. And... I don't want to see you suffer it. I don't want you to see what comes next if you continue down the path you've chosen.
no subject
but he knows what someone in pain looks like. he knows what it is to see someone who had been beaten down by his reality, discarded and deemed 'lesser' by others. the insecurity, the inferiority it brews is the truth behind that ruffled pride, Abel thinks; whether he's right or wrong - it doesn't matter. these are his beliefs today, sitting here at this table alongside his friend.
whatever Abel might offer in the way of answer to Makoto's statement is interrupted by the return of the barman who mumbles something almost too low to make out about 'not causing trouble,' sliding their drinks of choice onto the table for each before once more taking his leave. it seems none here are especially interested in lingering at the booth against the far wall.
the priest ignores this delivery for the moment, eyes still fixed somewhere unseeing upon the tabletop - and though the din of the tavern is little more than a subdued buzz of background noise, his voice is so soft as to almost become swallowed by it. ]
Do you believe you have nothing left to lose...?
[ that he had thrown himself into the flames, already found himself consumed by them in their entirety - perhaps even believed that he had done so willingly? does he believe he's mastered it - the feeling of his insides being rendered to a charred, spiteful content that only need survive long enough to see his objective through?
what a sad, horrid thought. ]
If that's the case... if that's truly what you think-- if you really believe that... I fear you'll discover there is always something more to lose, in time.
[ though his hands finally come to reach out and cup the frosted mug and to drag it toward him absently, it is apparent that his attention remains on the youth with those inhuman eyes. ]
Numbing yourself to the pain of being flayed alive-- it's issuing a challenge. It's asking the universe to teach you that you can feel a pain far worse. And... I don't want to see you suffer it. I don't want you to see what comes next if you continue down the path you've chosen.