Juggernaut

♕: Power or Peace

Power.

✄: Creativity or Talent

Talent.

☢: Freedom or Safety

Freedom.

♥: Family or Friends

Make my muse choose!

♕: Power or Peace

✄: Creativity or Talent

✿: Rest or Play

☄: Strength or Intelligence

❊: Wealth or Ambition

☢: Freedom or Safety

✚: Faith or Fearlessness

♥: Family or Friends

“Doesn’t it, though?”

Their voice was a soft rasp, breaking in the slightest for the attempt to keep the tone as low as possible. Just outside the door sit Silas’ assistant, perched at the edge of her chair with her nose buried in memos. Even the demon was unsure as to how Olivia had made her way into the Council office without anyone seeing, but then again they weren’t complaining. It was a pleasant surprise to stroll in after a particularly menial meeting and be greeted by a soft pair of lips and eager hands.

Silas nudged their nose beneath Liv’s earlobe, stooped to accomodate his tall and languid form against her significantly smaller one, using their body to pin her against the wall beside the door. From the small crack he could see his assistant shift.

“Mister Moss, I presume?”

“Sorry, you were saying?” Olivia said after she shook out of her haze.

“Good afternoon.” A fine brow rose, their eyes shifting to the watch -- a usual tic, before falling back onto the woman.

The incessant need to coddle everyone and everything. Oh, you hurt your arm, poor dear. Oh, you have a headache, sweet thing it’s alright. Oh, you’re tired, it’s alright. Pathetic.

Everything ends.

“My eyes are open just fine Sir. They’re open and they see the good all around us. We just need to be patient. People will choose the angels of their better nature.” He swallowed his nerves and stood tall. “I won’t give up on peace even if there are people like yourself that are afraid of it.” 

“Afraid?” Their eyes flashed, interest tinging them. Silas pressed the cigarette between their lips again. “For centuries I have crushed peace in the palm of my hand, faced it head on an destroyed it. Longer than you, your meager kind, or their ancestors have lived. I fear nothing, especially not peace. Oh but ... I quite enjoy the way it tastes ... running down my chin.”

“The meek, the humble, the generous of heart, these souls shall lead the Earth into peace and prosperity.” Zevi quoted his mother, not knowing it was an ancient teaching of the Merea pack. Not knowing that being in front of him was old enough to have known of the pack, He simply said what he had been taught and what he still believed. 

“The meek will crumble beneath the heel of the vicious and forward. The generous of heart will shrivel and fall wayward. Does the Earth look like it’s being lead in peace and prosperity? Open your eyes.” Plucking the cigarette from their lips, Silas flicked away the ashes. “Peace is a lie. This world is dead.”

Zevi knew to be afraid of this being. He could feel the power emanating from it. Any other time he’d have turned tail and run, but his fear and anger over Haylee gave him a careless courage. “Well, it ain’t what everyone wants. Ain’t what I want. Your kin ain’t the only ones here. Ain’t the only important ones. And you ain’t right either. No right and not righteous!” 

“Isn’t it, though? Nobody’s reaching out a hand to help you, help your friend. It seems it’s what everyone wants. War, death, destruction, blood. Casualties of such rise all the time. Take it in stride and move on.” Oh how quaint, he had snapped. Silas was amused to see someone usually so quiet and humble attempting to raise his voice. When they chuckled smoke streamed from their nose. “You can’t always get what you want. And being meek never gets it.”

Zevi breathed heavily through his nose. He was so tired of all of this. “Yeah, that’s all anyone does. Look out for themselves. Ain’t gonna be nothing left be death and fire when we’re done is there?” 

“That’s the goal.” Silas reached into their pocket, pulling out a sleek gold case. They took a moment to peel the fine cigarette from within and pressed it between their lips. “We only look out for ourselves, my kin, because nobody looks out for us. We don’t need them to. And if we did, they wouldn’t bother.” Lighting the cherry, Silas inhaled a deep huff.

“My friend Haylee’s hurt, Sir. She might be dying. Why did that happen? We got a council. Ain’t we supposed to have peace? But the killin’ just keeps goin’. Maybe the human’s had a right to hate us. If we can’t even take care of each other…” 

“You think the Council wants peace?” Silas almost snorted. Upon entry into council their statement was very heavily against such things. The destruction of remaining humans was their ultimate goal. “Haylee, hm? Brunette? Pretty blue eyes? Shame.” The loss of a potential toy was always wounding, if only for a moment and nothing more. “It’s not my place to look out for anything other than what I am.”