the darkest nights produce the brightest stars
The mistake Amalia makes is thinking Sam will respond to empathy, because empathy takes being able to see things from other people's sides, and it is clear the Ascended lack that ability. (Never mind the confirmation bias going on inside her own head - if this was about Amalia confronting her own flaws we'd call it fictional character therapy, not roleplay.) He stiffens in renewed anger, declaring she knows nothing of him; the leopardess raises her lips in a snarl, shaking her head at his hypocrisy. "You don't know me, either."
There is a part of her that wants to strike him down. It is a loud part, a predatory part: I could take him, she thinks, and is surprised by the thought, shocked to find it in her head. How easy it would be to pin him here, and then... what? What is she to do with her prey once she captures it?
When nobody cares but her?
"Is there anything I can do to stop you?" Tired, defeated, she shrugs her narrow shoulders, looking into the distance somewhere past him. "I won't hurt you. I can't. And I can't convince you. So what's the point?"
There is a part of her that wants to strike him down. It is a loud part, a predatory part: I could take him, she thinks, and is surprised by the thought, shocked to find it in her head. How easy it would be to pin him here, and then... what? What is she to do with her prey once she captures it?
When nobody cares but her?
"Is there anything I can do to stop you?" Tired, defeated, she shrugs her narrow shoulders, looking into the distance somewhere past him. "I won't hurt you. I can't. And I can't convince you. So what's the point?"
