"You have reached Solus zos Galvus. I fear I am unavailable at the moment, but should your query be of an urgent nature, pray leave a message. I shall endeavor to return it anon."
Not that Solus truly felt that, but to be laid so low by such a worthless and piteous creature. That this body would fail him like this, that he would be shackled by flesh and bone, feeble and frail both. This weakness being made so painfully apparent to both himself and the wretched beast who dares to name himself a man responsible for his state. Never did he show any fear, for he didn't feel it. Even as breath was robbed of him with that foot on his throat, he stared at him with unmoved defiance.
Even as he was kicked in places most vulnerable and painful, he did not cower. His body buckled, but that was involuntary—more proof of the imperfection of the mortal form. His head is spinning by the end of it, his body so taken with the brutality of the beating, he can barely make out what Steven says towards the end. All he knows is his fury at what's transpired here. That Steven would think for a single moment that he could threaten—no, promise—such a thing to Solus.
As if he were somehow the one in control, as if he had any dominion—any power—over Solus at all. Even if this moment seemed like convincing and irrefutable proof of that, he would make Steven know the lie to such absurdity. This feeling of helplessness is far from new to him, but that Steven would be the one to make him experience it again, even if it is but a pale comparison to those days...
Steven will be made to know his folly to the very depths of his pathetic soul. Now that is a promise.
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Not that Solus truly felt that, but to be laid so low by such a worthless and piteous creature. That this body would fail him like this, that he would be shackled by flesh and bone, feeble and frail both. This weakness being made so painfully apparent to both himself and the wretched beast who dares to name himself a man responsible for his state. Never did he show any fear, for he didn't feel it. Even as breath was robbed of him with that foot on his throat, he stared at him with unmoved defiance.
Even as he was kicked in places most vulnerable and painful, he did not cower. His body buckled, but that was involuntary—more proof of the imperfection of the mortal form. His head is spinning by the end of it, his body so taken with the brutality of the beating, he can barely make out what Steven says towards the end. All he knows is his fury at what's transpired here. That Steven would think for a single moment that he could threaten—no, promise—such a thing to Solus.
As if he were somehow the one in control, as if he had any dominion—any power—over Solus at all. Even if this moment seemed like convincing and irrefutable proof of that, he would make Steven know the lie to such absurdity. This feeling of helplessness is far from new to him, but that Steven would be the one to make him experience it again, even if it is but a pale comparison to those days...
Steven will be made to know his folly to the very depths of his pathetic soul. Now that is a promise.