Burn Your Kingdom Down

Cepheus saw value in size. The gods they were large beats, capable of holding the world in the palms of their hand, and the larger he became, in number from his youth, and the larger he and they stood, the more power he felt he held. He wanted to dine in the raw tendencies of the world and make them pay for their failures to look at what it was he was most successful in. Leading. He only offered them salvation, was he so wronged? If he was, he couldn't be bothered to care.

Eyes turned over the woman that arrived, her lyrics marching off in tease of the king, Isardis. His green eyes were trained to the svelte portions of her body, looking at the gibbous and rippling thew. She was a good stock. His youth would live well in her. He wanted to have her available, but he wouldn't mention such a thing. He wouldn't speak, for he had no motive, and without motive there was a lack of purpose to do anything. His focus was more trained to the alabaster king. He wanted to know the monarch, to see what his mind reveled in. Clearly it was the want to shove the grey lady down and have her for himself. Interesting.

The white man's words would gather more of a response from the titan and he would watch him, the depths of his chords rumbling forward in his perfect monotone, "What is beauty?" he quipped, his nails pressing into the earth, leaving indentions and massive points that only better showed his origins, "Irrelevant," the beauty of a woman rarely did anything for him. It was what she could burst from her loins and what quality the whelps had that crafted importance. "If she can pull her own, I suppose," he had no use for a body that was nothing more than a waste of space.