Re: [Capital: Misha & The Revenant]
"I'm someone who knows you ain't meant to kill how you're doing, and it's your soul I'm working on, not theirs. They'll go to jail, and make no mistake, and they'll be done with what they're doing," Misha said, all the surety of youth in the singsong of his harmless voice, and he shook his head after. "They weren't took yet. I won't bring back no one's been took, but they weren't, and that means they won't know the difference," he explained. He'd only realized this recent, and it wasn't that he couldn't raise folks gone longer, but he wouldn't; they wouldn't come back right. But just gone, that he could do. "You're playing God, and that ain't yours to do," he added, sure.
He was still sitting, was Misha, despite the voice being raised at him, the accusations slung. "If you went 'round killing the good, I'd do the same. I found you for a reason, I reckon, and it wasn't just chance." Misha, he believed that entire, on account of Misha had to believe in something. He'd been taught he existed for a reason. That, like all angels, he had no free will, that he was created for a purpose, and now none of that was true. He had a soul, which meant he had free will. He had Grace, which meant he was Heavenly. He was the son of Satan, which made him the Antichrist, and he needed something, some meaning to this life he had. He'd stumbled here, and he took it for a sign, for something to grasp. "But you can rest assured, I can feel you wherever you are, and I'll do what I say."