sera, sylvia
she/her
27
february 14
Lumiose City, Kalos
cupiosexual
bar singer
civilian
moments after a death there exists a battle between you and grief - while time only watches
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SERAPHIM
Angel Beats
POSTED ON Feb 29, 2024 6:12:51 GMT
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the words reek of naivety. [break][break]
sylvia is aware - painfully aware - of how hopeful she may sound. sylvia is aware of how painfully optimistic and simple she sounds, she knows how red everything looks when you gaze into the rose-tinted lens. when he brings up two of the higher-ups in rocket, she has to hold her tongue, and she can't help but to grimace slightly. [break][break]
yes, sylvia has heard much about them on the news; how rocket has terrorized others, and how much trouble they've caused throughout the years, and the tragedy that was kanto when they were able to get their hands on the government; the beautiful region has since fallen to ashes and ruin - and she knows they've hurt more people than she could count on her fingers. [break][break]
she doesn't know either one, of course, but sylvia knows better than to judge the reasons someone has pulling the trigger when the barrel is pressed against the forehead. some people do it for survival, some people do it for necessity, some people do it for the twisted feeling it gives them. [break][break]
"love," she starts, a smile to her lips "isn't something everyone is capable of." there's a somberness when she strums, emerald eyes fixated on her fingers as they idly pluck at the strings. "so when someone can love, deeply, it proves that they're human." humans, not monsters; when she thinks about it, the people who have killed so many aren't "monsters" to her. [break][break]
"they've done horrible things, but because they can love, they are human. humans can change." not unprompted, mind, and though she's one of those who changed, she should not be the example. "because they're humans, they can choose to act for the love they hold, whether it's for another person, or a cause they fight for, and what they love can change." she's rambling, and she knows. sylvia presses on, regardless, with another idle strum of the acoustic. [break][break]
"hate is a form of love. it comes from the remains of it, doesn't it?" a twisted, warped, yet simultaneously the purest form of love - save for the word itself. whether it be the ashes or the final burning flame, it's the proof that it once existed, or it still exists. "even if it doesn't make it right, no one is actually right. everyone just thinks they're right, and tells themselves that they're right. they could be wrong, but it doesn't mean they're bad." the woman pauses in her strum, mulling her thoughts, and beginning to strum a slower, lower tune.[break][break]
"it's bad when they love their ambition more than what they're supposed to protect."
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PATISSERIE HM RP
