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Lightbringer
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Bitterness in the pink gaze that met with his. There was sarcasm that coated his words but even still, nothing mattered. There were words that Xevon had readied on his tongue that he had held back. But Callisto had ignored it. He hadn't apologized, he hadn't bothered to say a single thing about it, just that he didn't want to see more death. Pathetic. "What about me," Xevon responded, his voice shivering but low. It hadn't raised in volume yet and instead bordered on a dangerously low volume, a tone that trembled with the effort. "I gave everything so that they could get out of there, I let go of my true nature to let you get out, I gave up my mind to set you free," he stepped forward, "I went against everything I had ever learned, everything I believed so that you could have a second chance, so that they could have a life. The only help I ever gave him was not even a conscious nor sound decision," he stepped forward, eyes flashing with a dangerous light, "what I did was sacrifice. What you just did, that was betrayal. You lied about what she did, you kept defending her even after she did nothing but antagonize the entirety of our group. She left them behind, she abandoned her post, she left her comrades behind while they were still alive." He towered over Callisto, looking down on him. "And now, in the face of everything, you sit there hissing and spitting like a cornered kitten instead of doing the one thing that could possibly help you." Perhaps it was on purpose but Xevon was not facing the cottage anymore, he was facing away from it so that he couldn't see the looks. He didn't have to see the faces. "You talk a lot, Callisto. Next time, make sure your words aren't empty and full of half-assed projections," Xevon drew his arm across his chest. "And, make sure you're on the right side. You know nothing about death, nothing about horrors, the wars, the fight for survival. That hotel? Minuscule. A tiny fragment of everything. You know nothing, Callisto. You are lucky that I know Alma would disprove of ending you right here," he dropped his voice to a growling whisper, "do yourself a favor and think long and hard about what has happened." Xevon spread his wings out and took off into the sky, sweeping upward into the clouds. ---- Finn shook his head lightly. "... I pissed Florence off... and a lot of the priests... and a lot of people..." he replied quietly and exhaled softly. "I guess. But if I had just gotten rid of the locket, if I had... kept my mouth shut..." He shook his head. "... would we still be here?" |
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Darkseeker
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Callisto narrowed his gaze as he was bombarded with Xevon’s retort, lip still curling in distaste as each word left his lips. Defending. Preventing a murder was now the highest order of treachery. His hands balled into fists at his sides, fingernails digging into his palms. His clothes were dirt ridden and completely dishevelled, hair tainted with the same dust and grime that painted his body. He had had enough of this. Whatever this was. Head tilted back as Xevon matched him, cursing his own genetics for making it look so overwhelming. It didn’t stop the defiant gleam in his eyes. Even the threat of his friend being his demise didn’t cut through the build up of rolling emotions within himself. It only drew a twitch of his expression as Xevon flicked himself into the sky. “Just because you suffered through that does not mean I am not allowed to feel how I do!” He spat out, stepping forwards into the place Xevon had been, pacing in a small circle while staring up at the vanishing form. Think about what had happened. The accusation of treachery. Self-absorbed, vigilante, irritating son of a - Callisto snapped his head back down into place, still seething. War was suffering, he was not an idiot. War meant death en masse. His cult was death en masse. Dragging people into dark hallways under the command of Veles, with a looming promise of death upon himself if he did not do as was commanded. He could have stopped, he should have, he should have taken that death for himself. He did not. That was his sin, and perhaps he deserved his own suffering. Suffering was a malleable concept. They all were suffering, even if Florence was an insufferable pest, she suffered. Did she enact the same terrors her father did? No. Was she worthy of the death penalty? He did not think so. God forbid, their opinions differ. God forbid, Callisto actually did something for once instead of standing there like a garden ornament. Callisto’s muscles felt like they were going to burst open from the pressure, the want to become something more than this weakness. With a frustrated snarl, he whipped around and caught the eyes of those in the cottage from the broken window. He stopped, staring at them. – A small huff came from Lily. “The priests? I’m glad you pissed them off.” She offered, tilting her head to look over his face where it hung low, focusing on their hands. “I think that many things would and would not have happened if you kept your mouth shut.” Lily began, flexing her free hand, still feeling the ache of effort from securing it around Florence’s neck. “What I know for sure -” Her eyes slid down to where their legs were propped up side by side. “- Is that if you had kept your mouth shut in that hotel, hadn’t been unequivocally you, I would be dead. Rotting in that place.” |
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Lightbringer
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Alma's brown eyes met with Callisto's pale gaze. It wasn't her place to step in, she had to let them scuffle it out. More importantly, she had to let them face the consequences of their own actions. The look was evident in her eyes and expression, the way she regarded Callisto as he stood there in the small courtyard. There was a snarl etched in his expression and she couldn't quite figure out the reason. She was still trying to figure out the reason behind both of their arguments to get a better understanding. Onas, on the other hand, with his golden eyes had regarded Callisto with little emotion. He noted that the young man had... almost had a valiant cause. But instead had turned it into a weapon. He could have left it simply at the desire to have no more death--and instead, had hurt the other man who had lost his own rational thoughts and attacked back with vigor behind his words and a barely hidden violence. He had snapped back. It wasn't that he thought different. But the way he had presented his argument. He hadn't presented it in the way he wanted to--especially to a man like that. A temperamental person with a highly strung wire of anger barely concealed at most times. Onas exhaled softly and stepped out, using the door to exit the cottage. "Well, that was something," he said slowly, looking back at Callisto. "Tell me, what was the outcome you hoped for? Perhaps... we could discuss how to have actually gotten there instead of ... this...?" ---- Finn closed his mouth as she spoke, listening. Many things would have not happened if he had kept his mouth shut and a great deal more would have happened if he hadn't. "... I am glad you're not dead," he said quietly. "But I can't help but feel like... a lot of this is just my fault." He had... there was guilt twisting in his stomach now. "... especially the argument between them." |
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Darkseeker
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He held their attention for a few huffs of air before he turned away again, trying to shake out the irritating build up of emotion. He hated the feeling of the well inside him overflowing, the sensation made his skin crawl, he wanted to give in and make the feeling go away. He didn’t, Callisto remained standing on two human feet as Onas came around the corner, listening to the sound of his feet crushing grass until he stopped just behind him. Slowly, he turned his fiery eyes to meet Onas, the lingering of his outburst still evident on his face as he took in what this newcomer was spouting. “Are you…” He trailed off, not entirely sure what he wanted to make of this intervention. “Are you trying to therapize me?” Callisto blinked, spine straightening, the bewilderment almost beating out the frustration in that moment. Wasn’t this the god of war? He should be loving this ridiculous display of anger. “I did not hope for any outcome, he is being an irritating justice filled idiot. That is my opinion.” Callisto moved to walk away, but not towards the cottage but out past the fence line. He didn’t want to go in there and be schooled by three gods, that sounded like an absolutely horrifying experience. He waved a hand around at his side to dismiss Onas. “I shall deal with the fallout when he returns, leave me be.” Callisto muttered as he pushed past the gate. – “You are sort of..confrontational sometimes, when you don’t agree with something.” Her words came slowly as she thought about the order and use of each one. Hoping that she had said it right, Lily glanced up as Onas pushed past them to head outside. It was a brief distraction before her head turned back to Finntello. “Their argument has nothing to do with you, they were bound to be at each other’s throats soon enough. The way they dance around each other, the environment, all of it was just a bomb waiting to go off.” Lily almost rolled her eyes at the absurdity of the two ghosts-come-men. “Honestly, they really need to work themselves out. They’re both two very messy people.” |
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Lightbringer
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Onas shook his head lightly. The term was unfamiliar to him but he wanted to ease the tension and hopefully prevent another fallout. Particularly since he had a feeling it would end rather poorly between the two young men. A warrior of a man... and this shifter... it was a rather poor fight. "To deal with the fallout now would be to die," Onas stated firmly, his shoulders set where they were. "If you did not hope for any outcome, why did you interfere?" He didn't move to walk after Callisto, simply watched the man step to the gate and then beyond the gate. He simply shook his head, moved back and began to try and repair the hole left behind. "He--ha--he 'shall deal with the fallout when he returns' was his words," Onas reported to Alma and Renissa. "I may not be a genius but I know enough." "The inevitable fallout will undoubtedly end in bloodshed," Alma said dryly, leaning against the doorway. "Like ours." "Mmh hmm." --- Finn nodded quietly. "It's a temper. I've got a temper, I--I know," his lips pulled into a wane and somewhat ashamed smile. "... well, I mean, yeah. If that's how Callisto really feels? It's little wonder why they never actually did anything together," Finn took in a deep breath. "They are messy in different ways. But I don't think they understand that. Callisto is still carrying the guilt from leading the cult which doesn't help him at all--especially the fact that he doesn't know much about Xevon's world. Xevon has a lot of survivor's guilt and trauma from the war--the sort of thing that he couldn't process properly because of the aftermath. I've picked up on it now. He lost his squadron in Germany, he had a letter from one of them right? Right. But his girlfriend was cheating on him. So he ran from home and ended up in the hotel. But with Callisto, he feels more like he started everything. Which, in a sense, he kind of did. the problem is that Xevon feels like he's drowning, so he's reaching out to find someone similar. He wants that to be Callisto but Callisto isn't like him..." Finn sighed, resting his elbows on his knees. "... I'm kind of sad for them but at the same time, I'm glad I'm not them." |
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Spring Month: 1 
Day 
