#pikohan

Yuan's first thought was a resounding, 'Does it matter?'

But he supposed that to the sighted people in the house, it probably did.

"So? Take him some soup then. It's on the stove."

[ Character Development Questions: Hard Mode - Accepting ]

Kratos finds it incredibly difficult to vocalise his feelings but when he does put something into words of that gravity, he means it. He finds it difficult to lie at the best of times, preferring to be vague to manipulate the interpretation of his words over outright lying. But he never lies about things as serious as this.

For Kratos, his love is mostly expressed through action or through wishes that a person take care or be safe.

[ @pikohan | emotionally intense prompts | accepting ]

The statement is unexpected. Kratos had not even been looking at her. It had been one of those moments when he hadn't been looking at anybody, lost of thoughts of a similar nature.

Truthfully, he agrees. In fact, he recalls a similar conversation with Yuan, close to the beginning of all of this business, looking out at a world that was determined to tear itself apart. But he and Yuan were both former soldiers, born in wartime, born of it. They had not known peace. They hadn't sought it for themselves either.

And they'd been old, even when they weren't. Kratos, at the age of 28, had been old already, had worn the weight of thousands of lives lost through his actions. He had already chased his so-called dreams and seen where they would take him.

He'd already lived longer than many in his position, and even made peace with death.

There had been an agreement between them then, that they lived for the sake of preserving Aselia. That their lives, once property of their individual countries, were still not their own.

Sometimes, staring into the inky expanse of the void beyond Derris-Kharlan, Kratos has wondered whether that was why his family was taken from him. That brief moment of normality he had enjoyed, something forbidden to one who had failed in their original purpose. And in allowing himself to shirk that duty to enjoy it, he had damned them.

But Anise is so incredibly young. She is but a child herself. He feels she cannot have even lived long enough to decide what her dreams are, let alone seek to fulfill them.

That is the very reason that normalcy should be protected.

Turning his head to look at her, he does not nod. Truthfully, he agrees, but not for her.

In hindsight, it may not have been the greatest of ideas to suddenly step off the edge of a walkway in front of her. Of course, he imagines that his having the ability to fly whilst living in a place like Welgaia, surrounded by people whose wings take the form of flesh, blood and feather, might not be such a shocking revelation. But he hasn't actually... exposed them yet.

Neither did he deign to use them before stepping into what may as well have been an abyss. Time was of the essence. He'd received the report that another intruder had been spotted. He had needed to get down there as soon as possible.

Falling was fast. He could draw upon his wings towards the end of his descent to make a controlled landing - and did. Not that it would have been visible from the top.

"I merely took the fastest route to the required location - a route I'd not recommend you take, mind, since you do not as far as I know possess wings. The report was false, unfortunately, a simple case of mistaken identity."

who will win, a 28-year-old agent capable of destroying entire worlds

or

one 13 year-old hurtling straight for him out of the blue

vote now on your phones.