Post by Uriel Camael Mikhail on May 12, 2013 16:35:46 GMT -5
What exactly was the definition of a monster? An in-human beast that is not afraid to cause atrocities left and right? An agent of chaos? Ready to wreck havoc among the people it sees? Or perhaps, a mindless killing machine? Either way; Uriel didn't fit into any of the categories. The demigod was bound by friendship and love; and being a monster needed that gone.[/font]
Perhaps the real definition of being a monster is someone willing to sacrifice everything and everyone with or without their consent; to achieve a goal. And the monster would have no problems doing it.
That was the exact definition of what Uriel was. The proof was right here; in front of him. The fine yet damaged specimen was crying inside; Uriel had a link with grief. He could feel any sadness within a person; whether they're good at hiding it or not. They just had that...smell. Like a person who's sad had the certain stench in their veins. Uriel knew that. He had that in himself for years and years. And spending time in the streets; where orphans were forced to steal and grown men to kill; you will smell that stench around a lot. Maybe that's why he was such an expert on finding out whether a person was lying or not. He could feel them. His eyes turned for a sympathetic look. Maybe e was a monster. He looked at her; and he knew that he was the reason why she was sad. How willing he was to sacrifice their friendship with harsh words just so she'd be fine. He didn't know why; but something about that appealed to him. Made him feel like a Martyr. His eyes flicked on and on. Not speaking. He didn't have the heart to apologize again. He wasn't that type of person. So he just looked down and stopped drumming his fingers. Uriel could feel something; regret. He needed to be more understanding..But it was hard to be. Especially when someone is on the verge of killing herself. Uriel didn't know what to do exactly. For once, Uriel Mikhail had no idea what's the right thing to do. Or at least; the right thing for his view.
It wasn't better when she looked shocked. Uriel could feel her grief intensifying. His eyes just stared on at her. And he knew one thing; she wasn't ready yet. She wasn't ready to see him leave camp yet. And while it was sad to see that; he knew he had no choice. He made a promise...and it seemed pathetic. He was going to leave camp to marry because of a promise. Not because he wanted to. Sometimes; Uriel wondered about his choice. Maybe he'd be better off thinking about this than rushing to decisions. However; his eyes shot up when she said congratulations. He just stared at her. For a full minute. Does he think of him with low wit? He could hear the jest from her voice. But instead of reacting sharply; he simply chuckled at her. And rolled his eyes.
“Don't think of me as a fool. I hear the sadness oozing out of your words..It's really sad. Are you sad that I'm leaving or...” He watched as the waitress returned, placing the tray in front of them. He slowly grabbed for the spoon on his coffee, twirling it around the coffee's contents. His eyes however; stayed on her. He examined her; he knew why she was sad. No one was sad for him anyways. It's because she was stuck here while he was going to leave. He'd rather hear it from her mouth though. His hands made it's way through his mug as he picked it up, taking one small zip. He remembered why he ordered the coffee. For one; coffee tasted terrible. Uriel didn't know why he stuck up with it. And two; lost of cream lots o sugar meant covering it's bitterness up...That was their situation. She as miserable; and he was trying to cover it up by taking her out. It was very very pathetic in his eyes. But the Spawn of Athena could do nothing but live with it. After all; what else could he do if she doesn't want to help herself? He was certain that after this day; she'd be back tomorrow with even more new scars. A sad thought. But that was the truth of it.
As he zipped his coffee; he finally said his next phrase. “Or is it because...you're worried you're getting left behind?” When he said that; he knew it was a matter of time before he shot a sitting duck. He placed his coffee down and stared at her; he didn't flinch or anything. Just a long stare. After a few moments; he spoke. “Europe could be fun...” H traced a line on the table and spoke again. “Well; depends on the country. France? Italy? Netherlands?” He just looked at her. You could see something else was running through his mind. He smirked. “So...you don't know where to go? And you don't know if you'd leave camp? I can help you with that no problem; you know.” He smiled again and looked out the window. “Mm...yep. Just tell me when you're ready to leave camp and a few strings pulled...” He waved his hands and whispered “Voila. Uriel magic.” Could you call it magic? Or could you call it the Dark Arts? Uriel knew how evil his little strings could pull. And he liked it that way. “So. Anyways. Musicals. What do you think about them?” A mere filler for what he had in store for her. He thought of how she'd react. Maybe this day could be the day she needs. Maybe she'd finally b come to her senses. Maybe he didn't need to put much effort now. Oh Tal. Just hang in there. I'm ready to save you...I just hope you won't hate me if I do..because I'm going to hurt everyone. Just to save you.