artistic differences~
[Cohen fixes his hard gaze at the screen, fixed, yet unfocused. The line drawn by his brow creasing deeper as ire and irritation cut through whatever was left of the evaporating calm. He was used to being called a freak...a crazy...a dyed in the wool psychopath. A Doubter runs amuck flailing his finger and screaming slander and lies, spreading the disease of distrust and fear into all he reaches.
All the Doubters in the world couldn't rattle his faith in himself and his works...but this thing, this Shodan...it was very clear she wasn't a Doubter. She was something far more...beautiful.
Sander's voice wavers dangerously. He wasn't sure whether it was because of the feint boiling he felt in his veins or the screaming in his mind, shrieking how right she was.]
W-well, I see the Goddess is omniscient as well, but do you honestly think you're any better than me, you worthless sow? You seem to think you can paint a picture without soiling your smock and yet here we are flapping at each other in a metal tomb surrounded - by - flaws.