amun
Amun shrugged at Darkeye's question. Although the potter's lips twitched, the amusement didn't reach his eyes. "Can't help it. Guess you just bring it out of me."
Narrowing his eyes at the other man, the Ascended pressed his lips together. Again, a growl rose in the back of his throat. "Wessex was there too, so don't lecture me on what she'd want. We evacuated the civilians and were just looking to do property damage. Maybe get all the details on the matter before you criticize me." Finally taking that breath the other man had urged, Amun let it out in a snarl.
Glaring at Darkeye, the potter stabbed a finger forward. "And what about our citizens? Do we stand by as they're murdered? Like Sam was by the Order? The same Order you say will 'come' is already on the warpath and stalking our borders. In fact, they have always struck first. Isn't that reason enough to take the fight to them? The war is already here, for us, but no one seems willing to care or acknowledge that the Ascended are actively being wiped out. It's only when people of other races get hurt that they express concern." Although he couldn't actually spit on the ground, he imitated the gesture as best he could.
Arching an eyebrow, the potter tilted his head to one side. "Maybe not everyone wants us wiped out. But are those same people going to stand by our side when the war comes? Or are they going to sit it out, as they have so far. All it takes for evil to prevail is for good people to do nothing, isn't that right?" He put his free arm on his hip. "As for the gods, yes, Safrin and Ludo want me and my kind dead, no exceptions. Obviously they exist. But they don't want us to, so I don't know how we can negotiate with that." He shrugged a shoulder. "I'll go seek out this new seasonal god that's been discovered, but you'll have to forgive me for not getting my hopes up. And I'm already pursuing a potential solution with Frey."
Gesturing at himself, the potter shook his head at the other man's questions. "Actually, I won't age. We can be killed, but we stay in the same form as we do when we Ascend. And no, all we need is fluid to sustain us. Some partake in food and drink, but we don't actually taste, smell, or physically enjoy it, and we're not capable of digesting it, so it's more out of habit than anything else. We can touch, but only as sensory input." Smoothing the front of his shirt, he picked a few nonexistent pieces of dust from it.
The chains did their job. As Darkeye drew the dagger, the Ascended's eyes narrowed. He actually took the strike in his armpit without bothering to move or dodge. Instead, he kept his upgrade going, trying to have the chain creep down the other man's arms and force them down to their sides.
Narrowing his eyes at the other man, the Ascended pressed his lips together. Again, a growl rose in the back of his throat. "Wessex was there too, so don't lecture me on what she'd want. We evacuated the civilians and were just looking to do property damage. Maybe get all the details on the matter before you criticize me." Finally taking that breath the other man had urged, Amun let it out in a snarl.
Glaring at Darkeye, the potter stabbed a finger forward. "And what about our citizens? Do we stand by as they're murdered? Like Sam was by the Order? The same Order you say will 'come' is already on the warpath and stalking our borders. In fact, they have always struck first. Isn't that reason enough to take the fight to them? The war is already here, for us, but no one seems willing to care or acknowledge that the Ascended are actively being wiped out. It's only when people of other races get hurt that they express concern." Although he couldn't actually spit on the ground, he imitated the gesture as best he could.
Arching an eyebrow, the potter tilted his head to one side. "Maybe not everyone wants us wiped out. But are those same people going to stand by our side when the war comes? Or are they going to sit it out, as they have so far. All it takes for evil to prevail is for good people to do nothing, isn't that right?" He put his free arm on his hip. "As for the gods, yes, Safrin and Ludo want me and my kind dead, no exceptions. Obviously they exist. But they don't want us to, so I don't know how we can negotiate with that." He shrugged a shoulder. "I'll go seek out this new seasonal god that's been discovered, but you'll have to forgive me for not getting my hopes up. And I'm already pursuing a potential solution with Frey."
Gesturing at himself, the potter shook his head at the other man's questions. "Actually, I won't age. We can be killed, but we stay in the same form as we do when we Ascend. And no, all we need is fluid to sustain us. Some partake in food and drink, but we don't actually taste, smell, or physically enjoy it, and we're not capable of digesting it, so it's more out of habit than anything else. We can touch, but only as sensory input." Smoothing the front of his shirt, he picked a few nonexistent pieces of dust from it.
The chains did their job. As Darkeye drew the dagger, the Ascended's eyes narrowed. He actually took the strike in his armpit without bothering to move or dodge. Instead, he kept his upgrade going, trying to have the chain creep down the other man's arms and force them down to their sides.
Thrill me, chill me, fulfill me
