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09-05-2016, 10:15 AM
Albrecht
He likes the flickering, smoking feline - immediately and without any additional information than what can be gleaned on first sight. Something in the way he slinks along the branches above them, no doubt entirely aware of the way it forces his audience to crane their necks and tilt their heads to see him, combined with the shameless marauders grin that spreads across his features as he lazes in the crook of a limb just resonates with the old stallion. He can almost feel the malicious humor in the cats deeply golden eyes.
‘Same.’ His companion sniggers from the back of his mind, conjuring an image of the servals spots littered across his bondeds hide, still blinking and billowing thin tendrils of smoke. A lopsided grin pulls at the corners of the stallions mouth in silent reply. Kindred souls indeed. Intrigued, he tilts his ears to listen when the creature finally speaks and considers his answer for several minutes before committing it to words, allowing the most eager of the group to fill the silence of his hesitation with their own rushed requests.
“It’s confusing to me," He begins, speaking to the assorted faces surrounding him as much as to the serval overhead. “Having living gods in Helovia. Where I was born there were no gods, or else we never knew of their existence. Accidents, consequences, the natural order - Things just happened. The universe had no regard for good or bad. You made your life through hard work, careful decision making, and blind luck all in equal measure."
"It was often morally unfair, in that the worst of creation might live a long and prosperous life without fear of punishment, and the good of society might just as easily suffer abuse and powerlessness for their entire lives, but at least it was fair in that everyone had the same random odds. It wasn’t personal when the world fucked you up." Not personal, but every bit as painful and demoralizing, perverting. The stallions ears waver, drifting back to the protection of his neck and the python at his brow coils perceptibly tighter around one backswept horn in answer, his bulbous nose escaping the stacked loops of his body to rest against the base of the stallions right ear, loosening its tension by just a fraction.
“Here, with Ascended, Wise Ones, those few who have their prayers answered in the Veins of the Gods - There is no system. The gods answer when and whom they wish, give or take or change as they see fit, just as unpredictably as the impassive nothing of my home, but without the illusion of fairness in being random for all. These gods are not impassive. They play favorites, have mood swings, hold grudges.”
He pauses, focusing on just the serval now. “I would ask that the gods take a stance one way or the other. Come forward and lead their herds, take an active role in the politics of Helovia, or just fuck off and let the mortal live their mortal lives.”
OOC // Please don't smite him. He's old and crotchety and resistant to change. ;_; Also this is really cool! Thanks for everything you guys do. :3
"Alby talks" 'Strom talks'
![[Image: 56c616e54affc]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/56c616e54affc)
