dev 7 - i do not feel

She finds herself beginning to stare forward once again...A gentle frown slowly appearing on her features. "Years ago..." She would find herself brushing past the question and instead, going on a tangent about the past. "I met this little red head boy that seemed to be rather down." There are not many things within this world that could possibly bring a smile to her face and yet.. "He was weak in comparison to the rest of those that were around. Constantly put down by his peers, by his only family, and it seemed as if the entire world was against him." She goes silent...If only briefly.

 "I found him. And...I saw something that no one else saw in him." She smiles. "A potential." She remembers it then. "A light like no other, something that reminded me of the sun...And when he kissed me for the first time, all I could think about was.." She finds herself pausing..

 "About how I had died and come back to life. Any fear or doubt that I had...Any harsh feelings or weakness was replaced the moment that he had touched me. That he had held me." And yet, this feeling is different. A general cold. A chill- decay set all around her.

 "To answer your question, no- the cold doesn't bother me. I don't think that I could ever be bothered by something so...small. Not when I'm here with you." A sigh is given, "I know that you're tired of hearing it but..I'm sorry." But why does she apologize? Hmm..

(Bei Rowan)

Sat next to her with the Drakaness resting on his lap, there's nothing else that the Lich could possibly ask for in the times of this peaceful night. Surely, there would be a lot more to do soon enough... there would be bloodshed, and the times when Arthur would need to try and restore himself to former glory. And yet, this soothing feeling offered by her was like no other.

Despite the fact he feels nothing at all.

"Mm... I remember those times..." He muses through her own words, a pause settling in. Steadily, his hand rises to plant atop of her head- it may feel cold, and it would be certainly quite... different, but now Arthur wears gloves. Not even a single patch of his skin- or whatever is left from it- is visible. "I remember that Drakaness…"

"I still remember how I almost fried myself to death when trying to conjure Storm, and you were there to witness it. Fun times..." A silent laugh, and a stroke against her hair. He may not feel anything physically, but such vivid memories bring forth an emotion from him - his eyes flare up in blues, a reflection as to what he may feel... despite not having any expression on his face at all.

"Those were... simpler times. I miss us spending time together like that. I miss when... we would be close, in more ways than one." Such thing seems quite impossible now. There's no doubt a lot of changes beneath his clothes, beneath that mask of his... and the aura of decay betrays such. "Ah... I suppose that's motivation to work harder on what I was doing, then."

"You don't have to apologize to me, Bei. You, of all people..."

He pauses. Something stirs, and after remaining moveless for about a moment, he gives a stroke to her hair once more.

"You of all people are the last I really care about."
(Arthur Rowan)


 She imagines that she is the sole reason as to why he seeks his 'humanity' back. And on the same hand, she imagines that if she were to falter. If she were to become weak and feeble, and fall to the enemy, that she would be the reason as to why he would decline into nothing. In the worst and best way, she feels as if she is the one thing that ties him to this realm. And in the moment of her death, she fears that he might give up everything and simply 'rampage' through Agartha. And because of that, she takes care of herself...Even with all of the damage upon her body, she cannot help but to think that he still sees her as perfection when such has passed a long time ago. Scars and markings, sickening bruises and more...Even from the addition of the Nethradin, it is almost clear that being a 'warrior' has taken a toll on her body through all these years.

 And with a few more, she will be forgotten...Unlike the vampires that loiter the southern borders of the city. But nevertheless, her mind would simply move from that fact and instead, drift towards the more simpler times. The moments of happiness and respite. The moments forged within kisses and embraces.

 "I know that you care."

 Her gaze lowers. "I know that you also care too much for some little old woman like me." Laughter is given, gentle...soft, true. "I find it rather funny, you know. You becoming everything that I expected you to be...And then, to be held and tied down by me." Hilarious.

 "It wasn't really the ending that you were expecting, was it?"
(Bei Rowan)

Whenever he questioned himself as to why he seeks that humanity back, in fact, he could not find any other reason but to be with her. If she were to pass away... he'd have little to no reason to even care how he looks like, how he functions, or to extend the youth of other people in such manner. He imagines if she's gone, he would abandon it all, and march towards death of thousands upon Agartha for her passing.

Death of his enemies and his own.

Still, despite such thoughts traversing in his mind, despite the idea that at some point he would rip and tear through thousands of people, bring them bloodshed that could never be seen before... he feels nothing about it. He feels no regret, no guilt. Is it wrong to be so careless about typical human life? To not feel any compassion, any empathy?

He doesn't know. He doesn't even feel like it's worthwhile.

"I do. I'm just uncertain whether I care about anything else in this world."

A pause. The reflection of the flares in his eyes- the eyes that were no longer even existent- it stared out, somewhere in the distance. Something was always buzzing in the back of his mind, waiting until he changes his views, perhaps trying to place him back on the path of humanity... but with each passing year, it was becoming a lot more difficult to regard common human life with anything at all.

"No, it's not the ending I expected, but..."

"I don't think it's wrong I care only about you. You're not just some little old woman. You made me. You helped me become everything I dreamed to be. For that, I am thankful."

"But I would rip through thousands with no bother. I don't think I even feel anything to other people. I've pretended to care for so long that I just... grew tired of it."

"And now, when I became a Lich? It's difficult to even pretend. Is it wrong I would not blink when others die? Is it wrong I feel absolutely nothing about it?"

"Is it?"
(Arthur Rowan)

Agartha brings out the worst in people. As much as she might say that there is beauty within this realm - the consistent, constant warring states will forever be the reason as to why even the most bountiful souls will eventually become corrupt within their own way. After all, she has never met anyone that represented the light well. Nor has she ever seen someone give in or give up for the sake of others. In many cases....She does not blame Arthur for the way that he ended up. No, that was impossible. She can only blame the world for how this had come to be...Nevertheless, the woman would simply begin to smile in thought..

 "You're giving me a little too much credit there, you know." She says. "For some reason, I think whether it was me or not, you were always something sort of 'self-made'....You had that in you from the moment that we met. Even now, you are constantly reinventing yourself and your magic. You've made so many leaps and bounds...And now, even the entire realm seems to scream your name and either cower in fear or gather up arms behind your banner. It makes you...Great."

 She simply nods silently.

 "If you want me to lie to you about the truth then...I suppose I could. But in all honesty, there's no point." She shifts. "To not bat an eye at the thousands that have died....To not even care, even just a little bit is wrong. And in reality, all of the things that we do now is 'wrong'." She says.

 "But considering the fact that you've learned necromancy and are going against the 'natural' way of things...Is there more reason to stop what it is that you're doing? When these people hurt you and aim to kill you...And your family and all of the things that you stand for, is it wrong?" she questions..

 "They'veall picked their bones with us. They've attacked us, spat on us, ridiculed us...And I think that now, it's good that we attack." She smiles. "Admittedly, I've grown tired of people making these foolish littlee announcements about bringing 'Dawn to Dusk' or 'Dimming' our light.." she adds, laughing softly. "It's about time that we burn everything. That we cull our enemies one step at a time.." And in the best way, she seems...

 Satisfied.
(Bei Rowan)

It may be wrong, it's true. Though, no matter how many times he's told that it's wrong, he simply... doesn't feel that way. To murder thousands and to burn down their homes, it's something that Arthur was very much capable of- and in fact, having done so at least partially- for the rest of the continent was not lamenting his name in so many ways. Some were stood under his banner, while others vowed to stop him. And how many people have already tried, anyway?

First, it was the rebellion... yet, no matter how much they tried, they were culled down. Then, it was the Vampires - and yet, no matter their strength, Arthur managed to break their spirit and submit them. There's no secret than there were also the people that tried to strike from within, the likes of Accursed, some Demons and even Gideon... all of them failed. What of Gehennans? Soon, Leland was turned to be a useful asset for Arthur, even if for a short amount of time. And now, Huangzhou…

And their forces are not like they used to be.

If anything, it would seem that the two of them survived a whole deal of obstacles that tried to get at them. And now, the young Gehennans are rising again... and the Lich just doesn't seem bothered at all. It's not that he's careless about his safety, or about all that he's amassed - he just doesn't seem to care to butcher them all over again.

"I'm tired."

"We've seen so much in our time, and they always persist. They make me rise my hand once more, over and over again... no matter how many times I cut them down, it's never enough."

"I stopped caring. It may be wrong to murder so many, but... it feels so right." He pauses. The comprehension clears any fatigue from the way he looked, and he adds. "I suppose we'll just have to cut them down again."
(Arthur Rowan)