Re: [log: antique store - daniel/claire/louis]
Blue eyes glinted deep and gold. "Without death, that is not an option. And I think that is an outcome we would both like to avoid."
Was it admitting a weakness? Very possibly. But to kill the shell would not murder the God. That took more, much more. "Spend your time on me as you like," it said. "It makes no difference to the timeless, as you well know. But your torture will only reflect back on this soul and body, and I would detach without a scar."
If an ageless deity could radiate exasperation, this one did, rolling its eyes at Temperance's bloodless definition of its existence as a minor servant of hell. "Your understanding of the world is not the only understanding," he said. "Or do you think it is all so simple as following a single doctrine, believing a solitary set of rules? Do you know how many gods I have been to how many people? Definitions are mutable, and your Adversary and I have never been formally introduced. As if I would serve." The very idea seemed utterly ridiculous to the thing, and it stretched itself, catlike, before settling back down onto the sofa.
It picked a stray bit of fluff off the end of the sofa's arm. "There is none of your God in me," it said, glancing between them, flat in affect. Without the theatrics, it did seem older something that had gone on being for longer than most creatures concieved of a history.
It waved a hand. "Stage setting. Your God has chants and the singing and wine and host and so on. I needed attention, and now I have it." It settled in deeper, folding its hands together. It took a slow breath through its nose. "Must I explain everything? I suppose I must. In this era I attract those disenfranchised by the monoliths of faith, so my followers build 'congregations' by drawing the attention of those who disdain the larger blocs. And what is a little paint on a holy place, now and again? It is no less holy to those who believe it so than it was before." It rolled its eyes to the ceiling. "I desire sacrifice. Your God asks it of your soul, of your desire, of your sex. I ask it of my followers also, but in other ways. Allow them to go about their business unimpeded, and I will leave this shell, my disciple, as free to go about his business as he pleases. I won't trouble his dreams, or take his rest or his sanity. I won't wield him as a weapon against you and yours. I will rest contented with my unsatisfying lot, and you may feel safe in the knowledge that I am satisfied." It looked to Daniel. "There is no separation," it said, softly. "Not without death. And I am sorry for that. Believe what you like, but to my followers, I am the bringer of destruction, and the boons I grant include death to the deserving. Those sacrificed to my glory are undeserving parasites, killed by pariahs with no other recourse. I do not tempt the young and innocent or kill the weak." To Temperance: "I bring blight to the crops and scorch the earth, create war and water the earth with blood, but these are the things of human kind. Misery and death forge them, and those are my domains. I did not create them, but I oversee them and distribute them where I choose. I do not flood my creation out of spite for its imperfections - I leave that to less charitable beings than myself. Try to tear me out if you like, but you will kill him. And neither of us will be satisfied."