Malakai Chmelyk // 'Volos' (volos) wrote in utr_logs,
"No, it's alright." Malakai reached up to brush his hair back, as he thought on it. "I've been alive four centuries, Ilya. Four hundred fifteen years, if I remember correctly. I am... tired, of the mayhem, the hate, the deaths. It sounds awful, doesn't it? To choose to be better simply because you grow bored of destruction," He scoffed, shaking his head some.
"I was not a good man, for the longest time; well, that is not true. I wasn't a man at all, for over a century after my death. The night I met Rurik, I had every intention to kill him- I had believed I had. But his magic, his strength, let him survive. It was a fluke, that he stayed with me at all, but because he stayed... you know the phrase, you are what you eat? I sincerely believe that drinking from willing donors allows me to live in peace. It lacks the adrenaline, the androgen, the essence of struggle and pain. He gives me that, and now I would likely cause more destruction than yours, if I were to see him go."