[ Nero sounds almost impressed by how cold Amos is. Sure, he thinks that sacrificing everything for someone else is absolutely worthless. One wanted to dedicate his entire life to someone else -- someone that was already dead. Why? Would that person even see what he's doing? Would they cheer for it? Would they understand it? His friend was creating a narrative all on his own, but then again, so does every martyr.
Every martyr creates a narrative of how their actions would benefit the many, of how it would make the world better, of something would come from what they did. It forced a story onto others -- and those other people might never know the tale they were supposed to be the characters for, too.
Really funny shit. ]
There is really only one person I get along with, but they're not here. [ He tilts his head to the side. ] Sad. [ Lifting his hand, he puts his index finger underneath one eye and drags it down his face to indicate a tear falling. ]
Everyone else tolerates me. [ Which is the bare minimum that he asks for, but also more than what he deserves. ]
You think that way, huh? About killing? You don't lament at all about how many you've cut down? Or how much blood is on your hands? [ As he says the word 'blood,' Nero lifts his hands up in the air dramatically like his hands are indeed stained red. ]
no subject
[ Nero sounds almost impressed by how cold Amos is. Sure, he thinks that sacrificing everything for someone else is absolutely worthless. One wanted to dedicate his entire life to someone else -- someone that was already dead. Why? Would that person even see what he's doing? Would they cheer for it? Would they understand it? His friend was creating a narrative all on his own, but then again, so does every martyr.
Every martyr creates a narrative of how their actions would benefit the many, of how it would make the world better, of something would come from what they did. It forced a story onto others -- and those other people might never know the tale they were supposed to be the characters for, too.
Really funny shit. ]
There is really only one person I get along with, but they're not here. [ He tilts his head to the side. ] Sad. [ Lifting his hand, he puts his index finger underneath one eye and drags it down his face to indicate a tear falling. ]
Everyone else tolerates me. [ Which is the bare minimum that he asks for, but also more than what he deserves. ]
You think that way, huh? About killing? You don't lament at all about how many you've cut down? Or how much blood is on your hands? [ As he says the word 'blood,' Nero lifts his hands up in the air dramatically like his hands are indeed stained red. ]
I knew there was a reason I liked you.