K/K arguments

[masked_god]

[Karakael rarely moves through the Overcosm quickly, and never relies only on instinct. It is too easy for the swirl of colors to take him where his mind would rather be going, rather than to the problem he needs to face.

So he doesn't arrive at Issie's temple at a run, but instead at a leisurely pace which takes only a few seconds of community time only because of the time differential between his galaxy and that of the community.

But he arrives immediately in front of Kefka, grabs him by the lapels, and tugs him backwards into his universe.]

We need to talk.

Comments

[masked_god]

"Blood is blood. It should be taken care of." Though how the Inquestor deals with it might be a bit...unique. He wipes his shimmer-cloak across Kefka's face, letting clean the skin, before letting it loose to lick at Kefka's hands.

He runs a hand over the cloak, smoothing the folds. "I know you wouldn't have hurt me for long. And I would have deserved that pain. There have been too many times when I've come out of a similar rage, only to find what I care about in tatters."

A sigh. It has been a long time since he lost control, but he still remembers the overwhelming hatred - for himself, for the system - that was only ever alleviated through pain or violence. But unlike Kefka he always had somewhere else to run to - a bar or brothel where he could throw punches in losing fights until the rage subsided.

He shrugs away the memories. They are from a life long gone. "I...I will be. Just..." Another sigh. "I recently did something foolish to one of my own children, and its been bothering me. I shouldn't have let that worry spill over into my understanding of you."

[sandinmyboots]

"I could just Cure it," Kefka says. Nevertheless, he lets the shimmer-cloak clean his hands; when it's done, he offers it the palms of his hands, curious. "So, who's this little one..."

He doesn't get like this often. Maybe once or twice a year, blow ups that sent soldiers scrambling. Everyone knew when Kefka was in a mood like this. Usually, he spent it locked up in his room or out in the wild, killing things until he cooled down. No one was safe, and so Or, if someone was unlucky, he'd spread their guts over the floor. It didn't matter. It was.

His hate is always there, an all-consuming grindstone he sharpens himself against, and so his anger rarely gets too out of control. He's already angry. But when this happened, he'd get so caught up in hate that pain just made him feel more excited.

"What happened? Who got hurt? Do I need to kill someone for you?"

Safe topic. Safer topic. Yes. Good.

tl;dr - Depressing Story Time!

[masked_god]

"The same one as always. Shem remembers you...see?" The cloak flushes a purple pattern as it nuzzles at Kefka's hands. "But your magic will likely be more efficient than ker work."

Karakael...doesn't have the energy to get than angry anymore. Conquest is a young man's game, something that held no more interest or release for him anymore.

But if he could turn Kefka's anger at himself, rather than the world...well. Anger was something the Inquestor knew. It was something he could control (as long as you don't let yourself become involved, Hokh'Ton).

"No. Please, the boy is in enough pain already." A pause, while Karakael remembers. "It was a few years ago, community time. One of my child-soldiers had gotten involved in a fight, he being the aggressor, and I had been called in to tear the two apart. I was so angry I did the first thing that came to mind, snapping him into a tacheon bubble while I sorted out what happened."

His face tenses beneath the mask. "In the few minutes it took before I understood the situation, the girl he had struck became hysterical, terrified for his sanity. She was babbling about how he had snapped during a war-game and how he hated darkness. By the time I realized what she was speaking of, the damage had been done."

Another pause, this one taken up with a blank stare out the window.

"Most of my child-soldiers are from broken homes. They're the only parents willing to sell their children for the profit. Almost only, at least. Yen's mother had locked him in caves on his homeworld when he spoke out. And Tacheon bubbles are made of pure darkness. He assumed...I had sent him back there, when I got angry."

"It took five minutes to find that out and disengage the bubble. In that time he cut off all of the fingers of his left hand, using the digits as targets for his lasers. It was the only way he knew how to make light to keep the darkness at bay..."

"He was my responsibility, and I failed him. None of my children asked for this endless life - but they have served me over a thousand years as loyally as they would have under a two year contract. They deserve better than a fool like me as their leader."

"Do you understand, Kefka, why I am so afraid for those innocents we meet on the community? It takes barely a word, a mere instant of thoughtless action, for one to destroy a child's life. But they deserve a life of their own - a life where they can make friends and mistakes - a life where their choices are their own, not dictated by an outside force. That girl...I see reflections of so many of my own children, some of whom are dead or grown, in her."