CIAN
the eye
He watches as she goes through the motions, weathering the storm of his making. It's the nice thing about being in charge: demigod or no, Cian does not answer to the slender woman before him. If he explains himself at all, it is out of a graciousness that she doesn't deserve.
'If you were meant to be in charge Amalia, then you would be in charge.' Cian reminds the Shield, his eyes lowering slowly and with great intensity to the way her hands have marred his chair before rising back. "But you aren't. I am." He sounds conversational, despite the sternness of his stare as he bores into her just as her claws have bore into the wood. She can second guess all she likes, but she is a newcomer to this table, at which he is the head.
'It was never too late. I've known about the machine for much longer than Finn has. It was a strategic decision.' He replies, easily meeting her gaze.
'Next? What is it you think Vi would have you do?'
'If you were meant to be in charge Amalia, then you would be in charge.' Cian reminds the Shield, his eyes lowering slowly and with great intensity to the way her hands have marred his chair before rising back. "But you aren't. I am." He sounds conversational, despite the sternness of his stare as he bores into her just as her claws have bore into the wood. She can second guess all she likes, but she is a newcomer to this table, at which he is the head.
'It was never too late. I've known about the machine for much longer than Finn has. It was a strategic decision.' He replies, easily meeting her gaze.
'Next? What is it you think Vi would have you do?'
