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[color=gray]Interactions:[/color] Gwyneth [@Blackened World]
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Icarus turned his head as Gwyneth spoke, his mismatched eyes settling on her crimson ones. A small smile settled on his face as she told him of her faith in her self and in him, and he tried to make it comforting as she apologised. He wasn't too surprised that she did, it was simply how she was; underneath the calm and patience was a kind heart that was clouded slightly by a guilt he didn't pry into. It wasn't his place, after all.

[color=gray]"You needn't apologise... I cannot forgive myself for the things I have done, but you have a point. I am unable to see it myself, but if you believe that I still hold the potential to use the powers of the Tyrant's Heart for good, that I can [i]save[/i] people, then I owe it to you and anyone else to try."[/color] He paused briefly to close his eyes and roll his shoulders with a small pop and a light sigh of satisfaction. A bad night's sleep, which was pretty much the norm for him, and the stress of the mission had gotten his arms and shoulders tense. His eyes slid opened again, but gone was the normal mismatched silver and pale copper colour, instead replaced by bloody red with cross-shaped pupils. To someone unfamiliar with his Imperial Arms, it might appear that the Tyrant was waking up but that wasn't the case. Instead, it was a declaration; he would fight, with Fafnir as his weapon.[color=gray]"For the longest time, I've been fighting to kill, but never thinking beyond that. Kill the Empire, Kill those that took my family, Kill the mistakes I've made... I should have been fighting to save this country and it's people. It's about time I started, if you'll help me? If I'm ever lost, point me back to the path. If I let the Tyrant in, stop me."[/color]

He blinked and the dragon's eyes were gone again. He leant back into his chair with a sigh through his nose as his gaze softened a little.[color=gray]"Now it's my turn to apologise. You just wanted to relax here and I come in and drop this on you..."[/color] He laughed softly, a sliver of a derisive tone weaved into it.[color=gray]"Tell you what, when we get back from this assignment I'll treat you to a meal to make up for it. Deal?"[/color] As the last word left his mouth, he began to fear for his wallet. He wasn't exactly tight on gold, far from it in fact, but Gwyneth's appetite could still take a heafy bite out of it. Still, it only seemed fair given the mood-killer he had dropped.