Oh.
Oh.
"You left... a goddess?"
So... what do you tell someone who just abandoned the god who controls their entire life, including their ability to eat? Big oof, man? Good on ya, breaking those shackles? What the fuck were you thinking? You, Zephyr Kawaianu, least reverent person this side of Halo, have absolutely no fucking idea what the appropriate response to Sam's revelation is. But you're probably sure it isn't what you wind up saying:
"So... prolly not the best idea t'go beat her up for ya, then."
But what else are you supposed to do? You can feel anger rising within you, that similar swell of incredulity and disappointment with a higher power that you felt those years ago. You turned your back on the gods when they turned their backs on you, let the thing most precious in this world - an innocent life, a good life, your son's life - slip away because he was different. Abandoned- not by any sin of his own, but because the gods made him so for reasons you would never understand or forgive.
And now it seems the so-called new gods are no better than the old. Because whatever the reason, that's what Sam is now: abandoned, for having committed a cardinal sin of independent thought.
Your fists clench, rage rushing through you, coiling your muscles into springs. Before you can think your hands rise up again, one snaking up to grab Sam's chin, the other grasping for his fingers. "Hey- you are not worthless," you snap, brown eyes glittering with unshed tears. Releasing your vice-grip on his chin, you adjust your hand so it's cupping his cheek, still forcing his face up toward yours. You don't want to hurt him; it hasn't occurred to you that he cannot, physically, be hurt. "Y'hear me? So you fuckin' stop that nonsense. Yer good an' sweet an' kind an' clever, an' I don' need any fuckin' goddess t'tell me any'a that."
Oh.
"You left... a goddess?"
So... what do you tell someone who just abandoned the god who controls their entire life, including their ability to eat? Big oof, man? Good on ya, breaking those shackles? What the fuck were you thinking? You, Zephyr Kawaianu, least reverent person this side of Halo, have absolutely no fucking idea what the appropriate response to Sam's revelation is. But you're probably sure it isn't what you wind up saying:
"So... prolly not the best idea t'go beat her up for ya, then."
But what else are you supposed to do? You can feel anger rising within you, that similar swell of incredulity and disappointment with a higher power that you felt those years ago. You turned your back on the gods when they turned their backs on you, let the thing most precious in this world - an innocent life, a good life, your son's life - slip away because he was different. Abandoned- not by any sin of his own, but because the gods made him so for reasons you would never understand or forgive.
And now it seems the so-called new gods are no better than the old. Because whatever the reason, that's what Sam is now: abandoned, for having committed a cardinal sin of independent thought.
Your fists clench, rage rushing through you, coiling your muscles into springs. Before you can think your hands rise up again, one snaking up to grab Sam's chin, the other grasping for his fingers. "Hey- you are not worthless," you snap, brown eyes glittering with unshed tears. Releasing your vice-grip on his chin, you adjust your hand so it's cupping his cheek, still forcing his face up toward yours. You don't want to hurt him; it hasn't occurred to you that he cannot, physically, be hurt. "Y'hear me? So you fuckin' stop that nonsense. Yer good an' sweet an' kind an' clever, an' I don' need any fuckin' goddess t'tell me any'a that."
and in the sea that's painted black
creatures lurk below the deckbut you're my king and i'm your lionheart
creatures lurk below the deckbut you're my king and i'm your lionheart
