#the boys fightin again 🥺

[eyeless-smiles]

Continued from x

@langdhon

Take a too powerful individual's bad mood, mix it with childish impatience and you get? Right, Michael ogling the final leap into madness, musing about erasing all life from the planet at once. No survivors, no actual plan which already takes so damn long to refine. Getting questioned in between on top makes you tired; Michael is no exception. Corinthian's objection still fails to wipe that smug smile off his mien, but it sure adds a dangerous gleam to his hardened gaze, now stare, pinned to the nightmare's face. " You think I'm joking? " One hand darts out, fingers furling as though grabbing a rope and slowly draws said hand back— Corinthian will find itself float toward Michael sans chance to defy him.

Until it's close enough. And that same hand snaps around the nightmare's throat. " I'm sick and tired of all this flip-flopping around, and since there are no clear instructions... " An idle shrug accompanies the small pout pulling at his mouth. " I wonder what's going to happen to you, with no dreamers left. "

It's the smell of determination that has the Nightmare question him. Questioning his purpose. His desires. Because it makes no fucking sense.

Why, with such a perfectly chaotic world that the Antichrist can create, would he choose to simply destroy it all. And why is he so locked in on that course of action. The Corinthian makes its distaste of the idea known and clearly that has aggravated the Dreamer.

His head jerks back with a snarl of distaste as he is ushered forward through the use of Michael's abilities. Not asked, not ordered, but simply dragged by the Antichrist's whim.

The hand that curls around its neck succeeds in rousing auxilary maws to bear their tiny teeth, but the Corinthian makes no move to retaliate towards the action. A hand on his throat won't cause him any more distress than a hand on his shoulder. It's simply a play by Langdon to assert power. Power he can have in his dreams, as long as the Corinthian permits it.

"I, and the Dreaming vanish. My Lord ceases to exist, as will all things." The Nightmare answers as his head cranes to make eye contact with Michael. A hand reaching up to wrap golden digits around his wrist.

"Why lay waste to it all when you can nurture a world filled with chaos? A perfect world, for us."