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Iago enters. ~~Stage left.~~

He's been perusing one of those brochures and then tucks it away somewhere in his doublet. He's a soldier, and the astute might guess by his clothes -- unremarkable, but they have the crisp unworn look of who does not go about his life as a civilian much -- and his bearing. Iago looks like a man who has done much marching, and so is enjoying the freedom he has to amble and lounge while he can in his own time. He's got an easy, open face.

"Here's for you soldiers," he says to the Forum in general. "How fare you in times of peace? Find you solace in that gentler life, and put you far your battle ways and bloody thoughts with ease as a man hangs up arms?"

Iago licks his lips. Not in a menacing way, he just looks thirsty. For answers, for war, more probably just for beer.

"Or does the blood run hot? Dost count the minutes to the next campaign, and think you of the quiet and indolent world outside of war, 'this is not life'?"

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When in Rome. Although, that would oblige her to play by the local rules if she ever went to Venice... good thing she's not much of a traveler. She'd never survive biting her tongue so much.

It may be basic courtesy to him to bow like that, but it's clearly strange to her. She's never had much of a poker face. Then again, the ideas he's getting about her are somewhat less kind than her thinking him strange. But as it seems like he's being polite, she'll let the subject drop with a faint smile.

"Metal can be reshaped," she points out. Glancing over his attire, she'll go out on a limb here. "I think that's in the bible, something about swords and plowshares?" Don't even get the thoroughly modern American woman started on the idea of a caste system or family obligations. Just don't. It's a well-worn rant and long. And loud.

Time in the sunshine and fresh air are good things, but there are better uses of his time, surely. At least, making sure the people he destroys deserve it...

"It is that. Swords shall be beaten into plowshares..." He tilts his head, trying to remember his Bible. What little formal learning he scraped up mostly concerned the holy book. "Yet about the holy land was that verse writ, when the Lord will judge the conflicts of man from Jerusalem. We may abuse our weapons so when Christ himself sees fit to settle our disputes, and we'll have no more need of war." He smiles ruefully. "Yet think I that day is not yet come."

Nope, that would defeat the whole purpose. Only the most virtuous, the most high, the best of men should be his victims. It wouldn't be worth pulling them down if they were already at his level.

Given how many times her world faced Ragnarok, and how much worse happened, it's a miracle she can dredge up even a thin smile to answer his rueful one. She's never put much faith in faith, so the idea of obeying her mother and paying attention in Sunday school was a non-starter. That's at least two sins, right there. Still, being able to quote particularly juicy bits to the hypocrites has its uses, so she's got a few verses tucked away for emergencies.

"Given how much fighting is done in that particular holy land, I find it hard to believe anyone's going to come out of it looking good in the eyes of a 'be kind and love each other' kinda god." Some of the other gods she's known would judge differently, but Valhalla might still not see many new visitors.

Right, why be useful when you can be rotten? Her lack of understanding of that philosophy may be the only thing that's kept her from actually becoming a villain. She's got all the rest of the necessary requirements: tragic childhood, daddy issues, magic curse...

"Is that all there is to God? God is all merciful, all loving, but wrathful. Sender of plagues, destroyer of nations. The Lord is a general of storms and fire, no? So well he hath o'erturned his foes, their soldiers and their women and their children.'Twas he smote the sons of Egypt, the cities on the plains, the Canaanites... even his own chosen did not quite 'scape a heavenly slaughter. Perhaps we are only instruments of His, for his use against His general enemies." As a tool of a Christ-following empire in the midst of a war with a Muslim one, that's more or less the company line. Iago is no blind obedient church goer, and has plenty of thoughts which he keeps to himself, but he can appreciate the drama of the literature, and the way it keeps people in line.

Ah, not much philosophy behind it. Iago could justify his actions with an armload of reasons to himself or others but it may all just boil down to... well, why not?

[I'd like to take a moment and say how much I love that you can keep the dialogue going like this. :D Bravo!]

"I think that's usually the line," she agrees, "that your god is unknowable and all-powerful and we're all helpless and sinners. Seems odd an all-powerful deity would need to push people around like puppets, but maybe he just doesn't want to get his hands dirty." One corner of her mouth is curling up in a smirk while she thinks about it. "It's a pretty good excuse if you think about it. Some other gods ask him what the hell he's doing and he can just shrug and say, 'Oh, well, sentience, you know. Can't be helped.'"

'Well, why not?' is going to be a lot of memoir titles, or epitaphs. She's not quite so far removed from it herself. Certain people can bring out quite the impuslive streak in her.

[Aw, I live in constant fear that it's coming across as too hokey, so thanks, dude! Much appreciated <3]

He shurgs. "Indeed one cannot know God's ways or reasons," says Iago, "But perhaps it is for our betterment, that we are pushed to warring, in lieu of His own judgement. It takes much hacking and hewing with ax and chisel for the mason or carpenter to build a lord's manse, and he loses much of the wood and stone. He may cast it off as rubble and dust trampled into the sod, but that which remains makes a fine house. Perhaps it is so with men with which God builds his Church." By his tone of voice, it is impossible to tell whether or not he believes what he's saying.

Though the God he was taught to believe in may be unknowable and all-powerful, He also has very clear ideas re: sinners, heathens, foreigners, crime-committers... nominally the same God and Christ as your more waffley, toothless modern Catholicism, but it's amazing how emphases on different Bible verses can change through the centuries. The whole being endowed with choice and sentience doesn't necessarily fit into the religion Iago was schooled in. God wills what He wills, and there's not much any of His puny creation can do about it.

Edited 2016-08-18 01:50 (UTC)

[I think you're doing a great job walking the line between authentic-sounding and hard to understand. TBH it's kind of intimidating. :P]

"I suppose that's likely. A sort of winnowing." She can't imagine anyone signing up for that sort of religion, but it seems to work for people who aren't, well, her. Gods know, it's not the first or even the biggest thing about other people she'll never understand. "But does it make you happy, following a faith that tells you it's okay for you to be trampled into the sod?"

Boy, has this conversation drifted off-track. Oh well. He can think whatever he wants about her for her being a heathen and a foreigner and her (lack of) clothes. She'll enjoy the strength of her own spine and her freedom to make her own decisions. Other people can fight for their spots in Heaven and Valhalla and wherever else they want to go for being good little soldiers. Not that she expects her end to be either peaceful or kind, but nobody's ever convincingly promised her better.

[Thanks so much! When I do it for too long I stop being able to tell if what I'm saying is making sense, so I'm glad it's not all incomprehensible! I do love Verity too, btw. I'm not super familiar with her source but she's fun. Poor lady -- trying to talk to talk to Iago about feminism and interpreting religion is like banging your head against a brick wall XD]

Iago cocks his head. What an odd question. It would be as if similarly put to Verity: does it make you happy, believing the universe works by large bodies attracting smaller bodies due to the curvature of space-time? There are some things he merely takes as universal truths, and while may have his tiffs with his Christian God, believe in a cruelty and indifference that runs parallel to His love, actively work against His teachings, question His ways... that there is any other option but to follow Him (or else actively choose perdition by not doing so) is inconceivable. Atheism, agnosticism and alternative religions never made much of an impact in medieval Italy.

"Here, better put: we His soldiers are as arrows loosed by the archer, each one valued though they be lost. Treasured more for their loss, for it is only through burying in the breast of a foe, not returning to the archer's hand, that our purpose is achieved. The loss inevitable makes the warrior greater, and what more might an arrow wish?"

Of course, Iago can talk of good little soldiers of Christendom all he likes, though he very well knows there's no place in Heaven for him. He's always had a deeply embedded streak of resentment against authority -- perhaps willfully destroying good Christians, though also dutifully destroying bad heathens, is merely Iago's way of thumbing his nose at the greatest authority imaginable.

Edited 2016-08-20 18:23 (UTC)

[Aww, thank you! :D The comic run she was in isn't super long, and if you want to PM me your email address I can send them to you if you're curious. And she's used to banging her head against metaphorical walls. The metaphor part just makes it more frustrating for her. :P]

Does it make her happy? Yes, quite. The vast dance of the stars is a thing of beauty in her eyes. Equally true, where she came from, was the idea that Midgard was but one of nine worlds, with Asgard on one side and Jotunheim on another, and that's definitely the place to be. Hers was a world where evolution was real and provable and frequently erratic, where evolution on Earth was being controlled or manipulated by aliens, where someone tried to eat the planet from time to time, where the celestial gods of gods would Sit Above In Shadow and feast on the energies of Ragnarok... she has options, is the point. So many options.

Had.

"That makes sense for most people, but why should an all-powerful being need to become greater?" She knows, she knows it's not going to go anywhere really, but it's not like she's got a huge variety of debate partners. She'll enjoy this while it lasts. It's not like she has to worry about her immortal soul; Heaven was never going to take her and she's pretty sure Hell doesn't want her either.

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