Tastes Like Thunder.

absolution is all i plead for

he is calm. methodical. philosophical. he is a servant of absolution. he must cleanse. he is a man of principles, of honesty and loyalty. he does not tell lies, neither for kindness nor personal gain. he is a man of his word; if he gives promise, the man will never forget. he will not blindly murder, no. he will attempt to imbue his victims with some degree of understanding with respect of his reasons for taking their life. he is a man who takes his time?believing what happens will happen one way or another. there is no changing of fate, only accepting and evolving. he is confident in his beliefs and perhaps even arrogant in his actions. this is a man of guarded perfection, carefully crafting his surroundings so as to not permit himself the setback of enemies. although the man takes great pride in his emotional detachment, he has found that the extensive principles of his patriarchal influence have made him vulnerable to family matters. he will often find it difficult to continue his higher duty of cleansing due to complications of the latter. outside of this vulnerability, he is not a man known to hold affections toward another or even consider any object of any more value than what it simply is.

extreme patience, confident, methodical, calm, as well as blatant honesty will remain cemented as traits. there is a chance that unrelenting loyalty, emotionally detached (with exception to family), remaining a man of his word, and his philosophical belief that he must cleanse this place of sin may not become traits of danail, depending on events as he grows. he may possibly become somewhat of a drone needing commands, otherwise walking around a bit dazed and lost. but he will always have the cemented traits.



Enjoy: as an adult. (quick note: if you give him bane's voice from the dark knight rises when he speaks, he's sexy as all get out)

such a site to behold?a monster of nightmares forged of earthen minerals; copper, coal, and tin all clinging desperately, chaoticly to a vessel of war. he is one who should be deemed incompatible with any living being, inconceivable of having any real emotion. and yet here, under a canopy of viridian heavens, such a beast speaks freely, openly with another. no hostility plagues the air they so greedily breathe, each man moving without even a flinch from the other. their light banter is far from heady?they seem as if two friends, family daringly so, living day-to-day life amongst themselves. one calls, the other answers. an innocent scene, to onlookers.

and yet as fate would call for it, this play of two old acquaintances will call for a very different scene?one of justifying violence, eradicating the sins of the fallen. polite smiles would lose all passion, falling so quickly into their normal haunt of disheveling absence of emotion. dull cyan irises would turn to stare into the man's soul, complacent on removing the irrevocable mistakes of a youthful past. a masculine, yet surprisingly musical pitch touched the air between them, i told you when we first became acquainted that every action had a consequence, that we would not travel far together. do you remember? patient?the servant of absolution was contempt to wait for his guest's cautious and hesitant remembrance.? yes. good. now, his tones chilled to a temperature perhaps colder than the deepest points in space, by allowing me to observe your sins and assess your burden, fate has chosen now as your time of demise. do you understand? wh- what the fuck are you talking about? he would listen to a stutter, a fall from grace?before a slow and deliberate step was taken by the still machinist. do you understand, gladius?

first, as always, denial. but i confided in you! i told you everything! the plea would fall on deaf ears, the man of twisted principles advancing in his own good time while chanting coolly and leisurely, all the sins of the body shall fly from you, leave your soul as purified. the birds of sin dwell in the tree of the physical body. absolution is like the crack of bones. as, at the crack of bones, the birds in the tree fly away, so do our sins disappear. breaking the neck results in purification as well as insuring to further sins to be committed. i will give you absolution. then, as if perfectly timed on a clockwork mechanism, the sinner's jaws cracked the air beside the servant's own?violence. a look of faux disappointment poisoned his fair face, his tone becoming like that of a chiding mother. gladius, hear my plea. do not make this any more difficult than it already is. fate has chosen.

471 words is enough