#support viewer -> [cormag]

[chryssaetos]

"Not hiding." He says, sharp, tense... But never angry.

Though, maybe he's a bit annoyed: The man is actually trying to talk to him now, for whatever reason, and Sin truly can't imagine being able to deal with another person right now.

Really, he's tempted to just leave, but he doesn't — He just feels... Bad. He feels bad, and he doesn't feel like moving from the spot he has here. Yeah, sure. He doesn't know how else to feel — What does he even want, anyway? Money? Respect? To just go home?

...Hm. Those clouds look like a bad omen.

"...I was paid to be here. But the Knights aren't doing their jobs. And they won't pay me to keep up. So, I don't care."

Those words, so hot and bitter they threaten to smoulder in his throat, are punctuated by how he drinks a little too deeply from the glass in his hand; burning his stomach, dripping down from the gaps of his teeth.

"...Mercenary. Paid to fight, then I leave. Not used to... Doing all this. Talking isn't what I do."

@second-sunstone

two words - "whatever comes."

(continued from here)

[chryssaetos]

It's only the faintest suggestion, really — Not a lie, but something he could easily retreat from if things went south. Something unwise, Sin would have thought; but hearing as Cormag's voice stiffens up, trembles with an anxiety so barely contained it threatens to spill from his mouth like a river of blood...

Well, this is new. And exciting, as Sin lets himself dwell on it — To think, the possibility is right here to find someone with his very same condition: Someone like him.

"...Sin."

There's still a rattling, something cold and dark and shaken inside of him: The years of living like this, caged into his own body because he simply has to be, or else everything will simply fall apart around him, and all the years will have been for nothing — Would the Kutolah truly allow someone like me to lead them, if they knew...?

But it's too intriguing, too thrilling to have something like this at his fingertips, and abandoning the thread here would just leave him bereft of something to do with himself all over again: He can't do it, against his better judgment.

"...I don't really care about that." He says, pushing himself off the sand and back on his feet. "If you want to say something to me, just go and do it."

...The drink would be appreciated, though.

two words - "whatever comes."

(continued from here)

[chryssaetos]

The man is right that he's running his mouth a bit, but— Ugh, he doesn't know. Bearing the burdens of a country in ruins is a feeling that is sickeningly familiar to Sin's senses, and the weight of that recognition... It's painful, being brought into the surface here.

But it's a reminder of what he's here for. Of the duty placed squarely on his shoulders, by the only man who matters. Everything else comes second to that goal: To restore Sacae to its former glory, to bring peace and prosperity back to its people. It was an order from his Lord, the Silver Wolf, and so he'll do anything to fulfill it. Become a man worthy of succeeding the greatest warrior Sacae has ever known since the days of Hanon.

...But, for tonight, he is only this: Young, uselessly scattered, and a little too invested in just what this stranger means when he makes mention of what a man is born into. It's not good to get one's hopes up for something like this, but...

(almost out of instinct, one of his hands finds its way to the fastenings under his arm, just to assure him of their presence. send a signal fire.)

"...It doesn't matter. What others want to make of me for it isn't my problem — I'm only here to work."

The air goes still. Even so, Sin is empty, faintly wanting, body humming with a raw and implacable desire. It's one that gnaws on him the more the thinks on it.

"...I'm not on duty anymore, though. Do whatever you want."

two words - "whatever comes."

(continued from here)