Conversation Space: The Ultimate

[powersthatbe]

You feel as if you've stepped through a door.

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Comments

[bitofafop]

"Do I look like a priest?" Because to be Chosen could only ever mean... He stops that thought in its tracks, but he looks alarmed.

"Explain."

It's hard to not make that sound like an order.

[callmemeibe]

"You are not a priest," they clarify. "My Chosen."

They seem to think about it for a moment, before they continue, "You have been selected to participate in Synodiporia. I have chosen you to represent me. You will complete matches, with the others, to determine a winner. I want to win. Therefore I ask you exemplify my virtues."

[kindashady]

There's very little difference between the two, in Artemis' mind. He's not the most well versed in the gods and demons and everything in between that like to meddle in the affairs of mortals, and he wracks his brain to figure out which of the above this...person, or creature, could possible be. His weapons stay in their sheathes, and though he no longer looks like he's waiting for a fight, he's...tense, to say the least, regarding the other narrowed eyes.

"You could have asked that I be Chosen, as well." It's probably for the best to tread this conversation carefully. He's come too far on this journey to finally let himself die now.

"I'll do nothing-" Or, he can dive straight into Hell with his pride intact. "-until I know what you are, and happened to the drow that I was traveling with. Then I'll consider anything else you have to say."

[callmemeibe]

"I could not pass this opportunity. We are well matched, you and I." That is all they seem to say on the topic of asking first.

"What is the drow's name?" They ask, seeming quite ambivalent about said drow.