Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20181211225019/@comment-30014014-20181213211547

The door locks behind him, his tears of outrage streaming with great difficulty. How could anyone make so little of one’s harrowing trial, he couldn’t understand.

His hand strike his face is pure powerlessness as they finally drip from his maske cheeks. The utter indifference burns deeply within, scorning his psyche. It squeezes a wallowing out of the young man, so alone is this uncaring glance.

Even under a Quaker meeting, the owner of this sanctum had proven more than a mindless conqueror. Even behind his faith to a greater behind, the giant as Jorge had proven beyond his duty. Even under the apparel of a different race, the young one had shown to Ben no différents than human infants.

Feeling the sick disregard the man in the wall had for one of them behind whichever reason, when he could have muster consolation, or comfort, or anything...

It was too much for Prad.

He was no warrior, no hero, no legend. Just a softhearted man. One withering under the alien mockery of a Mann beyond his comprehension. He could not hope to fight him, nor ignore his mockery.

Crying in frustration is all he can muster. To suffer in silence in solidarity. His tears, once more failing to reach the gray man...