Dodekatheon

“Are we talking about like, an actual thunderbolt here or do you actually call your dick that?”

“Please, please tell me you don’t actually call it that.”

“you tell me.”

“….what.”

“…does that line actually work? Seriously, does it?”

“Not usually. But I have a really impressive thunderbolt, so.”

“Hey. Sophie. You got any Greek in you?”

“Dude, you don’t understand. Jumping– it’s a ritual for me. It’s spiritual.”

“Whenever I feel a little lost, whenever I feel, I don’t know. Pent up? I jump. It relieves some kind of tension inside me and I feel right as rain after.”

“Is it the act itself, then? The leap, the fall, the impact? I can see  how falling- jumping into it, choosing it- could feel spiritual. But the impact... always the broken bones, always the pain.” She is deathless, but not immune to pain. She could avoid the pain; she could be careful to never get hurt, and therefore never feel the pangs of death for herself. Yet she jumps: into the pain, into the reality of death, without the release of death. “Is that what elevates your recklessness to spirituality? The pain. The broken bones. Do they remind you that you are alive, or simply that you cannot die?”

“Humans are so strange. I could not exist without their faith in me, yet they denounce me publicly while also worshipping me.”

“Most humans with your ability would be... arrogant, even defiant of death. It speaks well of you that you are not so foolish.”