[Athena shakes her head.] It has to be some kind of spell. It almost feels like-- [She stops herself, brow furrowing, and sighs in frustration.] Never mind.
Whatever it is, I’m not hurt. We should be talking about you. [It may be a dodge, but Athena is also legitimately concerned about Joan. She had come to her with a problem and that problem takes precedence over whatever quasi-magical bullshit Ryslig just threw her way.]
[If Joan was expecting a harsh or horrified reaction from Athena, she’s not going to get one. That’s the way killing someone should feel, right?] There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a kill. It’s who you kill that matters.
You may not even have to kill at all if the soup kitchen has… food to spare. And if not… [She sighs, uncomfortable.] I could control you into killing someone who deserves it. I’ve… done it before to someone else.
I don’t know. [It may not be a reassuring answer, but it’s an honest one.] I didn’t know there were urges besides the hunger. [Then again, she doesn’t have to feed physically; she just has to drag some poor bastard into a ring.]
[Athena doesn’t know what it’s like to have to feed on human flesh. But she knows what Joan is talking about: bloodlust is a feeling that’s all too familiar to the gladiator.]
If this was Pandora, I’d tell you to take it out on some bandit camp or find a target on the bounty boards. [She shakes her head.] Things are… different here. [“Civilised” is probably the word for it.]
If feeding doesn’t stop the urges, you could always accompany me on one of my patrols. It’s harder to find people who deserve it out here, but it’s not impossible.
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Whatever it is, I’m not hurt. We should be talking about you. [It may be a dodge, but Athena is also legitimately concerned about Joan. She had come to her with a problem and that problem takes precedence over whatever quasi-magical bullshit Ryslig just threw her way.]
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I know I let you down this time. But I can still keep you from... losing control again. That’s more important.
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I can't-- it felt good. In the moment. Like I'd fulfilled some kind of purpose.
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You may not even have to kill at all if the soup kitchen has… food to spare. And if not… [She sighs, uncomfortable.] I could control you into killing someone who deserves it. I’ve… done it before to someone else.
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Will that help with the... urges? [The desire to feel flesh rend beneath her claws, the sharp taste of warm blood in her mouth...]
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What kind of urges are they?
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If this was Pandora, I’d tell you to take it out on some bandit camp or find a target on the bounty boards. [She shakes her head.] Things are… different here. [“Civilised” is probably the word for it.]
If feeding doesn’t stop the urges, you could always accompany me on one of my patrols. It’s harder to find people who deserve it out here, but it’s not impossible.
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I'm not sure if I'm ready for that. But I appreciate the offer.