Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-5999656-20170521035143/@comment-5999656-20170613040316

Zanipher cast around their surroundings tentatively before slowly prying the mask off. She flexed her jaw, wincing at the sharp jab of pain lancing up from the inside of her cheek. She fingered the mask, turning the grey object around in her hands so that the scratched visor seemed to be gazing up at her.

Zanipher said nothing at Diaboli's words at first. Such somber tone was completely unexpected - she'd expected him to be celebrating their shared kill with the same probing back and forth that they'd settled on after their first confrontation. Here, the atmosphere was uncomfortably heavy.

Zanipher sighed after a prolonged silence. She wasn't any good at handling the emotions of others - hell, whenever someone started crying around her for whatever reason, she always departed before things got too awkward.

"Well, as they say, sometimes we don't know how much we need something until we don't have it anymore. I guess that's how it is right now," Zan said tentatively. Somehow, she had expected Diaboli to be be long familiar with personal loss by now. It wasn't unexpected in this line of work, as her own experiences showed quite tellingly. So as curious as she was to understand Diaboli's changing feelings, this exchange was making her feel pretty uncomfortable.

"We don't know why Gren chose this path for himself. It's not good to jump to conclusions," Zan said, as if stating facts was really going to help Diaboli's melancholy. But what else could she say? Pinned between the need to maintain the face of a mafia boss and yet not wanting to be insensitive, she had to settle for the unsatisfying middle road. But if Diaboli was baring himself like this to her...

"Death isn't cheap. There are lives I'd wished I hadn't had to take. There are lives I wish I could have saved. That's how these jobs work - so don't tell me you're starting to regret everything you've done?"