Re: Hell's Vacation Resort (Grave)
Despite her assurances, it was pretty damn obvious that Grave did not trust Luna even one bit. In fact, he couldn't shake a certain feeling of anxiety and fear - he was a little paranoid when it came to contacts with others, and even though his unusual arrival and adventures on this island threw him off his guard at first, recent events were more than enough to prove that he could not believe others so easily. He did watched the demon carefully as she made her offer, though he did not reply immediately. In fact, he spent a few moments standing in silence, his focus turning inward as he debated his choices, looking rather torn. Frowning he began to pace around before stopping near a window and looking outside, at the grounds around the resort.
To tell the truth, Cynder didn't feel much compassion towards the masses of humans living in this damn world. And yet, there was something deep inside him that screamed at him to say "no", though he couldn't quite say what it was... Irritated, he tried to consider the problem from other angles, though he still kept finding arguments convincing him to accept. He couldn't quite abandon Envy or Club, though perhaps he could take them with him? Cynthia wanted to make him into a savior of some kind, but for whom? She was pissed off at him now, anyway, just like Valencia. He had little doubt that they'd not forgive him. There was the matter of succeeding his mother, but that could probably be incorporated in this too.
If there was any big argument against the idea, Grave mused, it would probably be about the "paradise" Luna wanted to build. Would it be like the withered forest outside, a twisted, demonic realm? Though she claimed to be an outsider like him, the owner of this resort did not seem to hate her nature at all - in fact, the half-blood was willing to bet she liked it. How would this new world be any better than the old one? And would it really be any better for him than the old one? Granted, he'd probably never learn until he found himself in it, but how much would he have to sacrifice and destroy in order to build it? Would there be anything left to rebuild?
As he weighed these arguments against each other and desperately tried to remember what was the damn thing that repulsed him initially, Cynder decided to consider the last part of the idea, namely the methods needed to employ to achieve such goal. It was obvious that he'd meet an opposition. In all likelyhood, the inhabitants of this world would have to be forced to accept the change. Luna said as much - they'd burn this world in order to make a place for themselves. Would he really have to bring the torch to their homes? And as he pondered this, he began to remember. A random village, one he came across early in his journey.
A young man, honest and brave. Hunger, a desperate attempt to steal some food, an angry mob, a fight. Blood, and a face twisted with anger. Panic, desperate struggle, a mis-aimed strike, fear on his face. The lifeless look in his eyes as he fell. The mad dash afterward, the horrified cries he left in his wake. The nightmares in following nights. Grave shivered, paling as he grabbed the windowsill, hard. Dear gods, how could he forget? The incident he came to remember as the second worst thing in his entire life, right after his old man's death... The half-blood took a deep breath to calm himself down.
Over time, he got over it. He understood what happened, drew conclusions, moved on, and eventually buried the memory, like many other painful things he no longer wished to recall, remembering only what he wished to remember from the whole thing. Why would he recall it now, Cynder had no idea. But he couldn't help but wonder - would this be any different from what happened back then? The very thought made his mouth feel dry. Because even if he was not the aggressor, even if he did not wish this to happen... He could not accept, or forgive, such an outcome. His old man wouldn't. He would not accept many other things the young man had done, he realized, before and after coming to this homeland. The very idea made him wish to scream.
With a sigh, Grave turned around to face Luna once more, his face grim. And even though he didn't seem to get over his little shock yet, his eyes told that he had found his answer. "Luna." He spoke calmly, a little quiet, even. "I... I am grateful for your understanding. However..." He paused for a moment, tensing, expecting an attack. He was certain she would not like his answer. "I can't... I won't accept such a solution. Nothing good will come out of it."
