[With a snap of adolescence in his voice, Dimitri tears his hands away from the bench - scattering chunks of stone and dust. He stands, his back to this teacher who isn't his because if he faces her he may strike.
The church this woman speaks of, the Crest system he knows... of course all it needs to be reformed. Too many people suffer under Fodlan's archaic structure.
But too many people would suffer without those institutions, as well.
There's a logical approach, he knows there is, but Dimitri can't keep his thoughts together. They're incongruous, spiraling into nothing more than a sense - of urgency, of fury, of dread.]
If you think that trampling over the weak in the name of a golden future is any better than the rhetoric of a despot, you have been misled. [His restraint is splintered; it's all he can do to keep mania confined to his voice and not his body-
And if he fails, he does not have his spear, so his hands will have to do.]
no subject
[With a snap of adolescence in his voice, Dimitri tears his hands away from the bench - scattering chunks of stone and dust. He stands, his back to this teacher who isn't his because if he faces her he may strike.
The church this woman speaks of, the Crest system he knows... of course all it needs to be reformed. Too many people suffer under Fodlan's archaic structure.
But too many people would suffer without those institutions, as well.
There's a logical approach, he knows there is, but Dimitri can't keep his thoughts together. They're incongruous, spiraling into nothing more than a sense - of urgency, of fury, of dread.]
If you think that trampling over the weak in the name of a golden future is any better than the rhetoric of a despot, you have been misled. [His restraint is splintered; it's all he can do to keep mania confined to his voice and not his body-
And if he fails, he does not have his spear, so his hands will have to do.]