Summer looks up from her book and freezes. “You … aren’t Flyte.” To that self-evident remark, eyebrows high on her face, she adds, “Who are you?”
“Jarvis told me.” Actually, nobody had told her; she’d noticed him getting irritated, then him leaving, and figured out the rest herself. But Raven didn’t need to know that. She sits forward, elbows on knees, and regards him a little more seriously. Maybe — just maybe, nobody ever bothered to explain it to him.
Yeah, right.
But it’s worth a try, she supposes. “Have you looked at our history? Even just the recent history, the last hundred years or so. The harder people try to impose their will on others, the more those others fight back. You don’t even have to look back more than a few /months/ to see it — and you, proclaiming yourself as a god, would stir that backlash even faster. Sure, maybe humanity does crave to be ruled. But what each individual craves to be ruled by is different, and they — we — will fight each other to the death over those differences, no matter how minute they might be.”
She can see it so terribly clearly in her own mind, even without her empathy. She’s just not sure she can shape it in words that will carry that sense to anyone else, far less someone whose whole culture is so wildly different.
He gave her a disbelieving look but just went with her. Either way, Stark most likely made it known as he left. Clicking his tongue he leaned against the wall. Not wishing to sit near her.
Rolling his eyes at her he sighed.”You make it sound as if I haven’t read up your history since the last time I was here and have realised were there were flaws in my plan and how sheer force is not the way. And as I have said I have learnt and am just biding my time now. I’ve noticed how much backlash will be obtained when one claims to be a God. Mainly due to the various types of Gods you mortals worship and fight over whos ways and beliefs are right. That’s why I will bide my time before I strike in my plan to rule Midgard. It won’t be in your lifetime I can assure that but then again. It might.”
A smile is made all so innocently. One that shouldn’t even be upon his features as it makes him look less menacing that he really is.
She shudders, involuntarily leaning away from that smile. It shouldn’t be frightening; it’s the innocent, playful smile of a child. But she knows entirely too much of what is behind it.
“We stopped you once. We can do it again.” It’s all she can say in the face of this smiling danger.