he's not ashamed of what he's done—why do them in the first place, if he was going to regret them?—but in moments like these, it almost stings, as a reminder of the life that never was.]
Are you asking that because you expect an actual reason?
Yeah, this isn't me getting people killed out of carelessness or shooting someone who deserved it or whatever.
[ares may have had his grand cause he believed in, but past the propaganda, white wasn't that ambitious. deluded?]
You asked before if I lived in a dangerous neighbourhood. Yeah, 'cause we were the danger. We were a bunch of murderers who prettied it up with what amounted to a fucking cult, even if our god is real.
and that's the thing - no, mineo's not going to be okay with a cult. it's obvious in the angry line of his shoulders, stiff and stubborn. his sense of justice is lost and wandering, but it reminds him so firmly of something that he can't just accept that he wants to fight it.
[of course mineo wouldn't be. it's why whites hates himself for getting even a little bit caught up in his compliments—because he's known all along that they were for a false image mineo had of him.
probably just thought he was some punk who at worst mugged people in an alleyway or something petty like that. not that white was a living nightmare for an entire island; or, if ares had had his way, the whole world.]
What do you think happens to the monsters in stories, o One-Eyed Dragon of Shinjuku?
and he stops short, because that's how long it takes him to realize that white isn't talking about any old monster. he's talking about himself. he's talking about himself like he's the demon lying in wait.
it's still tense, and a long moment passes, but he'll reach a hand out, curling it around white's forearm.]
white had called mineo a pushover - but it seems like they've finally found what pisses him off. his grip on his arm tightens, probably just approaching painful.]
I'm not gonna say that what you've done is okay, and I'm not giving you a free pass. Next time we spar, I'm gonna wipe the floor with you! [and it won't be enough, but it'll make mineo feel better.]
But you're not some psychopath or irredeemable freak!
[because -
white errs toward violence, but almost comically so. like he's gotta be the one proving that he's the beast or he'll get stepped on. like he's gotta follow the orders of this Lord Ares without questioning it. that's not someone who's evil at their core - even if they've done evil things.]
honestly, one of white's first instincts is to punch him—but he doesn't. instead, his head dips, and his shoulders begin to shake... in laughter? it's quiet, barely perceptible, but it's there.
hey, lord lessa. i think i've met someone almost as much of an idiot as you.
[and - honestly, he doesn't know what white's response is. he doesn't get it. but he's also not trying to get it right now, getting up and using his grip on white's arm to pull him closer -
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goes quiet
he didn't think that far]
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TRIES TO KICK HIM AGAIN]
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It's not like you ever told me what you did!!
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So what do you do...?!
[this is the most angrily he's ever asked this question]
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a long pause]
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matching long pause]
.... how illegal is it...
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[he is jumping on this train so that he doesn't have to admit that's only 50% of the pause
and that the other 50% is because he realized hE'S TECHNICALLY UNEMPLOYED NOW AFTER ALL]
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gonna roll over onto his stomach because apparently they're just
doing this on the floor
would this work for a sloth indulgence?]
So what is it?
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... Well, whatever my higher-ups needed. Not like it came with a job description... If Lord Ares told you to jump, you asked, "How high?"
Usually, though, I did a lot of the public shit like recruiting.
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What made it illegal?
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[blunt.]
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it's hard to miss it - the way he freezes up a little.
and then, clipped:]
Why?
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he's not ashamed of what he's done—why do them in the first place, if he was going to regret them?—but in moments like these, it almost stings, as a reminder of the life that never was.]
Are you asking that because you expect an actual reason?
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he takes a second to respond, letting his head bow back down into his arms, hiding his expression for a second. it's hard.]
.... I don't know.
[his hand balls into a fist - and then relaxes.]
.... it's not like I haven't hurt people too. Gotten them killed indirectly, maybe.
[ . . . ]
I can't say it's okay, but it's... not like there's anyone here who's never hurt anybody else.
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Yeah, this isn't me getting people killed out of carelessness or shooting someone who deserved it or whatever.
[ares may have had his grand cause he believed in, but past the propaganda, white wasn't that ambitious. deluded?]
You asked before if I lived in a dangerous neighbourhood. Yeah, 'cause we were the danger. We were a bunch of murderers who prettied it up with what amounted to a fucking cult, even if our god is real.
Still think I'm "fine however I am"?
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no.
and that's the thing - no, mineo's not going to be okay with a cult. it's obvious in the angry line of his shoulders, stiff and stubborn. his sense of justice is lost and wandering, but it reminds him so firmly of something that he can't just accept that he wants to fight it.
but.
but.]
... why're you talking in past tense?
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probably just thought he was some punk who at worst mugged people in an alleyway or something petty like that. not that white was a living nightmare for an entire island; or, if ares had had his way, the whole world.]
What do you think happens to the monsters in stories, o One-Eyed Dragon of Shinjuku?
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[vanquished.
. . . .
and he stops short, because that's how long it takes him to realize that white isn't talking about any old monster. he's talking about himself. he's talking about himself like he's the demon lying in wait.
it's still tense, and a long moment passes, but he'll reach a hand out, curling it around white's forearm.]
... hey.
Don't say that shit about yourself.
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... Are you fucking stupid? I'm a Deman. People literally derived that from "demon". We're about as much of a textbook example as it gets.
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[well then.
white had called mineo a pushover - but it seems like they've finally found what pisses him off. his grip on his arm tightens, probably just approaching painful.]
I'm not gonna say that what you've done is okay, and I'm not giving you a free pass. Next time we spar, I'm gonna wipe the floor with you! [and it won't be enough, but it'll make mineo feel better.]
But you're not some psychopath or irredeemable freak!
[because -
white errs toward violence, but almost comically so. like he's gotta be the one proving that he's the beast or he'll get stepped on. like he's gotta follow the orders of this Lord Ares without questioning it. that's not someone who's evil at their core - even if they've done evil things.]
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honestly, one of white's first instincts is to punch him—but he doesn't. instead, his head dips, and his shoulders begin to shake... in laughter? it's quiet, barely perceptible, but it's there.
hey, lord lessa. i think i've met someone almost as much of an idiot as you.
in a place like this, who would've thought?]
Let go of me, asshole.
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[and - honestly, he doesn't know what white's response is. he doesn't get it. but he's also not trying to get it right now, getting up and using his grip on white's arm to pull him closer -
just so that he can get him into a headlock. hm.]
Say you're not a monster!
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[well, now he's trying to shove mineo off of him.]
Fine, I'm not a monster! Geez, you're making a way bigger deal of this than it needs to be!
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