Supreme Dictator | An Ode to The Innocent

Prologue | A Fall Was What It Made It Free

What makes a person their character?

Is it when they are born with it, growing up with their own beliefs and values?

Or is it when an entirety of a group, the environment you are in molded by their preferences and opinions?

Cale Henituse likes to think that it is neither.

A life throughout a self-made setting, a segment of opinions, thoughts, criticism, brazenly rumours and toxicity. Such is his life throughout the eyes of the people.

Yet, for some reason, the one in centre relishes in it achingly. Scornful smiles and arrogant eyes, hidden despair yet still overshadowed by such a persona created by its owner. One would think that he was two-faced, varying his personalities by a weighing scale.

Small little words turn to bigger problems, almost tantalising to tarnish his own dignity for more.

Recognition and acknowledgement.

Two spectacular things for the wrong reasons.

Cale truly relishes in it.

Yet his heart aches for something better than that. It wants actual genuine interest, genuine affection and concern. Cale doesn't know, he really doesn't know what to make it off. Maybe, its because of his humanity. His morals that still did not get close to the boundary of a truly levelled trash.

Shaaang!

Reddish-brown eyes lazily catch the vase's fall, however his hands remained by his side - still and unmoving, almost as if it was made to be like that.

Then, without warning, a scream takes place as the ones nearby run to the sound and they all stopped once they saw the scene.

In front of him was a dramatic little piece of flesh, a human vassal with his 'terrified' face or so, as he claims to be expressing.

Naturally, people would misinterpret the situation and think he was harassing someone, which is completely deemed normal at some point. They do this type of action to make him look more of a monster rather than just some trash.

Ah, well, might as well play the part.

Aren't they practically playing with him? He wouldn't say no to such attention, after all. It has been long overdue since his mom asked to play theatre.

"Stop yapping, dog." Cale exclaims with a bright smile, showcasing his happiness with being played with. (It's not happiness, at all. Can't you see his misery? Just please notice his hard work--)

The vassal's eyes seem to widen now that he just realised his attempted situation of bringing his reputation down. It was simply risky, and dangerous. Cale can attest to that as his smile of brightness dims to a lowly smirk, befitting of an truly evil villain.

"Unless, you want me to trap you back in your cage. Be a good doggy and don't be a nuisance." Cale snickers and stomped his foot on the man's ankle, eliciting a good yelp of pain.

Cale is benevolent and merciful, but he knows this son of a bitch that was cowering before him.

He was that guy who fucking trapped him inside the closet, he didn't even let him out until Lily found him inside.

He could hear gasps of terror behind him but Cale could not careless about the situation and put more force on his leg, twisting the direction of his foot with a means to break his ankles.

It wasn't even a minute but then, a familiar presence of the ginger comes in to land a hand on his shoulder, attempting to calm down the young master - knowing damn well what would happen.