Killing ourselves for convenience

Sirius Revlis · 07-01-2011, 06:57 AM

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Word Count » 3+

She was clearly not intimidated by his presence. While that might have pleased the Thistle King in some mannerisms, for he detested yes-men and spineless fools alike, it also served to put him on guard. Her tones spoke of a lack of respect, and such a thing often lead to mutiny. Furthermore, Sirius felt contempt for lowering himself to be judged once more, especially by a gaze so hollow and listless as hers. The tall, dark-haired man had proven himself again and again, and still it seemed there were disbelievers. The wicked scars over his right pectoral marked him as a bearslayer, and the intelligence in his gaze that sometimes bordered on a fanatic madness was sheer proof to most individuals. Had Tayui not been a valuable, intriguing individual, and a ghost from the Boss' past, perhaps he would have had her punished for her general disconnection out of sheer mistrust.

But such was not the case. For while the Aston woman did not seem to project any respect for him, deep within, the Thistle King held it for her. It was difficult indeed to deserve a place of such esteem within the Hunter's mind, for he was a canny sort, more interested in the value and worth of a being than their actual characteristics. Such had proven visible in his acceptance of the man-child Bastion, a creature whose personal affections and actions repulsed the leader, but whose 'special' talents far outweighed these petty dislikes.

Perhaps she thought him wicked, then. At the woman's dry humor, black lips curved up in a smile, eyes lingering on her thoughtfully. No response was given for this, for while she may have voiced it in brittle jest, there was a sinister truth underlying. The twisted laws of Salsola provided means for what she joked of - Sirius had the ability to punish one for breathing too heavily, if he so wished. But while he was vain, and perhaps powerhungry, the Revlis man had no cruel fetishes as did so many of the madmen to have passed through these lands. His was not a reign of blood and slaughter, a satanic desire for pain and suffering - Each act of wickedness had purpose, had a design to better the strength and standing of Salsola. The slaves were practical objects, and while some might loath their presence, to the Thistle King they were little more than tools.

When had he become so hollow? The frown returned, but it was directed inward, not at Tayui. Her words echoed with sudden wisdom in his head - Refreshing wisdom. While Eris was Queen of this land, she new little of ruling, of the deep mannerisms of the soul, of the character it took to lead. She would learn, and even now was learning, but her voice was not the advising one he needed. "The truth of that statement is chilling," His voice, smooth tenor that poured from a serpent's silver tongue, filled the silence with its drawl. Arms crossed over his chest, partially hiding the scars there from view. "But you voice it as a eulogy, my dear. Conditioning is not necessary a bad thing. It helps us adapt - Helps us survive." It had been so long since he had had a civil conversation, and while the Thistle King longed for one, he was restrained by his mistrust of the ivory Lady.

The soft roar of the ocean echoed his voice momentarily, as hard eyes resumed their keen observation of the beautiful Aston woman. For a moment, sadness flickered in their cold, flat depths, but it was swallowed swiftly by calm resoluteness once more. "Why are you here, Tayui?" The question was voiced softly, laced with curiosity and suspicion. The woman he remembered had been vibrant, full of life and love - How had she found herself within the clutches of his Thistle Kingdom?

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