⚜ one

[martelapproves]

Characters: Mithos Yggdrasill and YOU!
Setting: Cafeteria
Format: I'll follow you.
Summary: Mithos doesn't even bother to go to his dorm room. He heads straight for the cafeteria.
Warnings: Speciesism, though he'll try to behave himself for now. He really, really hates humans.

An angel doesn't need to eat. Or sleep, for that matter, but in a place like this, a place this... well... abnormal, Mithos feels the need to do so now.

He was reminded somewhat of Niflheim. A memory he's long since forgotten and moved on from, and one that doesn't even matter anymore. Aselia was gone. He died, just like Martel, and there was nothing left. All because some idiot humans thought that, despite, four thousand years of being proven right, he was wrong and too near-sighted to see that humans could change. The fact that the world was destroyed upon reuniting them, even after he himself was about to destroy it, was almost poetic irony.

How did it happen? Magitechnology? Maybe Lloyd couldn't handle the amount of power he took for himself upon gaining the Eternal Sword? Maybe Ratatosk still wasn't over being betrayed by him? Who knew. Who even cared anymore. He didn't even have the means to remake the world anymore, if the Eternal Sword was even capable of that. He never tried. He never wanted to try, either. There was only one thing, one person, he wanted, and now, it was forever beyond his grasp.

Mithos stared down at the oatmeal. It was already halfway gone, and it really, really seemed to be disagreeing with his stomach. He almost never ate, and when he did, it was purely for pleasure. This was foul. It almost sounded like how Raine's cooking was described to him. Were they here, too? The people who went down the path he himself refused to follow? If he was here, then... they had to be.

And they'd better have answers.

Comments

[warriorscribe]

"I don't know what an elf is. How can I hate someone who has heritage I don't even know to judge?"

Enoch couldn't help but be sympathetic for the poor boy, so used to hate that he doubted even the most basic concern for his troubles...

[martelapproves]

"... what are you talking about?" Has never heard of elves? In a game with LOTR characters? But... the fact that he was coming across as sincere was refreshing. Maybe he was serious. maybe he didn't hate half-elves, or even know what one is.

But of course, millenia's worth of being validated in his belief that humans were inherently hateful and that they'd never accept half-elves willingly wasn't going to be undone overnight.

[warriorscribe]

He never asked what Haldir and Legolas were. Or if he has heard what they are, it's slipped his mind. He doesn't speak with them much.

"I don't think they had anything called that in my world."

[martelapproves]

"... Whatever. Half-elves are treated like dirt in my world." And now they're the ones killing humans by the thousands in Nazi-esque death camps, so go figure.

"I'm not expecting anything better here."

[warriorscribe]

"But you can, and should. There are likely others like me who don't know what you mean, or those who would see them differently."

Enoch looked down at the table a moment, resting his fingertips on its surface. "I do know that indisputable truth in my world is completely reversed in another... If for something so large as the divine in my world, why not something so small as heritage in yours?"

[martelapproves]

He doesn't say anything. He wants to believe Enoch, he really does; but experience and history just aren't in humanity's favor. Of course, that's mostly his fault, but sshh.

"What are you even talking about?" Universal truth? Large and divine?

[warriorscribe]

"The...nature of God. He is...utterly unrecognizable to me when I hear talk of Him in another world. If something so important can be so different in one world, then why not the way the people perceive your lineage?"

He's trying to help the kid. He wants to help him. Such immediate distrust is...sad, even without the reasons behind it.