[continued] - @dvilsdesire
you could be doing so much better. the words echoed in his head, and he pressed his lips tightly together to avoid giving away too much, though he was aware the privacy of his mind was nonexistent as long as he was bound to this place. still, there was some comfort in pretending.
amay doesn't flinch as harleep leans down. his eyes follow his every movement, and every other noise around them died down as he focused solely on every word that slipped out of the blue devil's mouth. less grating, for sure, now that the tone and cadence of it didn't remind him of raphael, but it's all the more unsettling as he feels a rush of energy at the thought of power. could he call this blasphemy? as his thoughts dance around the possibility of wreaking havoc, he wonders what would be the opposite of profane talk. was this reverence, then?
the word hope doesn't cross his mind.
and then he looks into harleep's eyes, and he remembers two little words engraved in his memory (though if they were actually carved into the back of his skull he wouldn't be surprised); i'm nothing. "could you imagine me putting him in his place? are you luring me into a trap, harleep?" he feels the energy draining from him, though he knows it's par for the course, given who he's talking to. "and what do the pages in his books say? are you in one of them? or all of them? are you making an offer? and what?" he leans closer with every question, his eyes growing wilder in a momentary surge of that old wrath that nests in his ribcage. "i'm sure all the pages are stuck together either way."
