Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-25389303-20191221164519/@comment-25389303-20200104135804

Diaboli was deathly quiet, and remained so long after Zanipher stopped speaking. He didn't rise to his feet when Zan did, nor did he even look up when she drew a hidden pistol in front of him. His eye remained downcast as she explained herself, locked on the mess of metal lying on the ground in front of him.

Too much effort...literally no gain...

The words echoed in the mobster's mind long after they were spoken, deafening him to whatever else Zanipher as saying. They stabbed him a way no knife ever could, driving at his heart with lethal intent. It was all...too much...

In an instant, the old walls were back up, shielding his heart and his mind from the wave of pain that, for the briefest moment, threatened to overwhelm him. And like a just like a wave, the aching doubt that had afflicted Diaboli for so long finally began to recede. But in the wake of that storm, nothing had been left standing. All that was left behind was hollow, and cold. Only the walls remained.

"'Sometimes we don't know how much we need something until we don't have it anymore,'" Diaboli eventually answered, almost as if waking from a trance. "A wise young woman told me that. I wonder what happened to her..."

Slowly, Diaboli rose to his feet, folding his dirtied coat over his arm as he brushed himself down.

"For a while there I believed in you, Zan," he said with a sigh, finally locking eyes with the Dragon. Behind his deceptively empty gaze, a newfound clarity shined. "You helped me believe that I might not be alone in this. But you just made me realise, people like you are all the same. Selfish, ruthless, and insatiable." He managed a small smile, but there was no warmth or kindness in it. "Thank you, Zan. Thank you, for making me realise just how necessary I am to this world."

He looked down at the pistol in Zanipher's hands. To people like them, such an instrument must seem like little more than a toy. Diaboli, though, knew just how devastating they can be, when in the right hands. Even so, he merely arched an eyebrow at the weapon.

"You can shoot me if you want, but I wouldn't suggest it. Killing you is not part of my mission. But I won't let you stop me from accomplishing it. If that means I have to tear you apart with my bare hands, then so be it."

He turned away, facing towards the door to the rooftop. After a moment's pause, he began making his way towards it.

"I'm leaving you the option of staying on the sidelines for this one, Miss Dragon," he said as he walked, without so much as a glance back. "So take this final piece of advice: It's not about what you have to gain - it's what you can't afford to lose. Remember that."