[ Hickey hasn't got much use for the chapel, but he's making the rounds anyway. He flicks at the basin of holy water, sending a few droplets splattering to the floor.
[The droplets of water make his eyebrows raise, but he's not the typical angel, so there's no blasphemy to be found here. Instead, he's just sitting near the altar, threading his fingers through his hair.]
In simple terms, yes. Money, which goes hand in hand with status. Without access to either, your avenues for advancement are all but nonexistent. All you can do is... get by.
Oh, hell if I know. The elite aren't exactly keen to share their status with the rabble. I expect most of us will never know what even a small scrap of power feels like.
w1; chapel; wednesday
It's only after that he spots Sariel. ]
Here for more confessions?
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[The droplets of water make his eyebrows raise, but he's not the typical angel, so there's no blasphemy to be found here. Instead, he's just sitting near the altar, threading his fingers through his hair.]
Are you?
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[ Again. ]
I'm still grateful to be here, but I have to admit, it's awfully boring, isn't it?
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[as if]
[this is somehow outweighing everything]
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[ A long, puzzled pause. ]
You mean the insect...?
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[ARE THERE ANY OTHER ANTS HERE]
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I wouldn't count a mass quantity of ants as a good thing. They're not inside, are they?
[ He's looking at the floor. Ew, they'd better not be anting around in the kitchen... ]
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Oh, I've seen a few. Not many. But they're not here, if you're asking.
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And ants are... enough to cure the boredom for you, are they?
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[...]
I envy them.
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[Just...mindless.]
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It would be easier.
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[He's silent for a moment.]
Do you...follow others, Hickey?
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I prefer not to, if I can help it. A man should make his own path. I do what suits me—as should others.
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I learned what doesn't suit me and worked backward from there. A man of my upbringing has little choice to do otherwise.
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Is it about money with you?
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That often depends on the circumstances. Acting in one's self interest at the expense of others tends to be universally frowned upon.
[ Not that that stops him, but it's a fair enough reason for ire, at least. ]
But there are those that would rub your nose in the dirt simply to stay on top of the pile themselves.
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[Hm.]
What does it feel like? To be on top of this pile?
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Oh, hell if I know. The elite aren't exactly keen to share their status with the rabble. I expect most of us will never know what even a small scrap of power feels like.
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If you had power, what would you do with it? The same as them?
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Beyond that... I don't know. Why dream of something that is unlikely to ever become reality?
[ He pauses to study the riot of color flooding in from the stained glass windows. He's still adjusting to the vibrance of this place. ]
Why are you asking me these questions?
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[A sigh.]
I don't understand why...mortals are preoccupied with power. So I asked you. Since you want it.