Sam
I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam
And no one in his right mind would make my home his home
Sam was an anxious person; that much was known to anyone that even spent five minutes with him. He tended to balloon any issue into a life-ending conflict, obsess over details and was always looking over his shoulder, waiting for the next thing to go wrong, the next person to betray or hurt him. At first, he'd tried to put his anxiety over their Longnight plans down to that; maybe this was just how he was, maybe he was overthinking again.
But the more he considered it, the more Sam came to the same conclusion he'd come to when the debate had first risen. This was suicide. The Ascended did not have the numbers, and in the numbers they did have they did not have the strength. He had faith in the Voice, perhaps in a couple of their family with enough power to survive, but over and over he was hit with horrific visions of the future that involved a lot of spilled fluid and not many monsters gone for it.
He knew, from the reception to his opinion last time, that this would not be a popular move, but he had to try it. Coming to the shrine in the shelf, sat on a ladder to the side of it and speaking out in front of himself, hands clasped, Sam emptied his mind, hoping his Goddess was listening.
"Mother, I'm scared. I know...I know I'm always scared, but this time it's serious. This Longnight plan; I don't see how it can end in any way but all of us dead. There's so many monsters, and not that many of us, not yet, and we aren't that powerful. A lot of the Ascended are new to it. They might not even want to fight." Especially those that had come back at the Festival; thrust into their new lives and immediately sent to a hopeless war? He knew he wouldn't want it.
"Maybe you have a plan. Maybe you can help us in some way...I'd really like to know if you have something like that. At the moment, as we are, I don't think there's going to be half of us here after Longnight-" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He was speaking quicker and quicker, anxiety over how to say this spilling into his tone. "So..if you have some grand plan...or something to help, please tell me. Or..."
He fiddled with his fingers, knowing full well several people he knew would be very angry he even suggested this. "Help me convince them not to do it. Just...postpone it again. Maybe for more than a year...we could decide to do it when we know we're strong enough. There's this Order. We're just learning how to stay safe from them, and I don't know if we can deal with that with half of us injured or...gone." Sam glanced over to the shrine, to his last hope before stepping into the warfield. "...Just...I know I can't make demands. I'm just scared we're walking right into our end."
He waited to see if she would respond.
But the more he considered it, the more Sam came to the same conclusion he'd come to when the debate had first risen. This was suicide. The Ascended did not have the numbers, and in the numbers they did have they did not have the strength. He had faith in the Voice, perhaps in a couple of their family with enough power to survive, but over and over he was hit with horrific visions of the future that involved a lot of spilled fluid and not many monsters gone for it.
He knew, from the reception to his opinion last time, that this would not be a popular move, but he had to try it. Coming to the shrine in the shelf, sat on a ladder to the side of it and speaking out in front of himself, hands clasped, Sam emptied his mind, hoping his Goddess was listening.
"Mother, I'm scared. I know...I know I'm always scared, but this time it's serious. This Longnight plan; I don't see how it can end in any way but all of us dead. There's so many monsters, and not that many of us, not yet, and we aren't that powerful. A lot of the Ascended are new to it. They might not even want to fight." Especially those that had come back at the Festival; thrust into their new lives and immediately sent to a hopeless war? He knew he wouldn't want it.
"Maybe you have a plan. Maybe you can help us in some way...I'd really like to know if you have something like that. At the moment, as we are, I don't think there's going to be half of us here after Longnight-" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He was speaking quicker and quicker, anxiety over how to say this spilling into his tone. "So..if you have some grand plan...or something to help, please tell me. Or..."
He fiddled with his fingers, knowing full well several people he knew would be very angry he even suggested this. "Help me convince them not to do it. Just...postpone it again. Maybe for more than a year...we could decide to do it when we know we're strong enough. There's this Order. We're just learning how to stay safe from them, and I don't know if we can deal with that with half of us injured or...gone." Sam glanced over to the shrine, to his last hope before stepping into the warfield. "...Just...I know I can't make demands. I'm just scared we're walking right into our end."
He waited to see if she would respond.
When I try to open up to you I get completely lost
Houses swallowed by the earth, windows thick with frost
