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The parrot looked up at him, smiling. Most people here had to look up to Sítheach to make eye contact and that's the way he liked it. Most of these mortals were beneath him, especially the parrot. The parrot had situated himself between Sítheach and the table, taunting.
The parrots red eyes scorched into his skin, “I mean, no one has ever gotten even close to what I did. Tell me Elvenking, how did it feel to be powerless?”
Sítheach didn’t respond, simply tucking his hands behind his back. Jove loved to taunt, like a child. As much as he wanted to slap the son of a bitch across the face, he was taught better than that. This thing didn’t deserve his rage. He didn’t even know how the thing got his brother's feather, white tucked in between all the red and blues.
That's when the parrot with all his dirty hands landed heavy on his waist, leaning in close as to take a bite out of his neck, “You’re weaker than you look,” His left hand traveled up around to his back. The feeling making Sítheach want to vomit. He was dirty, unclean, impure, “Aeor can’t save you,” His long fingernail started to circle the blacken scar right under his left wing, “All hail Exor,” the parrot whispered as he dug his nails into Sítheach’s skin and yanked down, peeling skin with it.
Sítheach yelped, feeling warm liquid start trickling down his back. He could hear a few gasps. Without hesitating, Sítheach grabbed that man's collar slamming him down into the table.
“Elvenking!” Guardian Gladiolus scolded. You weren't supposed to fight at meetings. This was neutral land. But its hard to be neutral when they let the man who kidnapped you in.
Sítheach leaned over the table, making sure that there was barely any room for Jove to breathe. “Silence,” Sítheach hissed at her. He raised his wings, making himself the only thing the parrot could see. His wings trumped the parrots, almost six feet longer than the others.
But the shock plastered on the parrots face wasn’t enough. Sítheach grabbed him by the collar and slammed him as hard as he could on the ground. He heard a sickening crack. The parrot had been grounded for a very, very long time. Not even that was enough. An eye for an eye they say.
Sítheach wanted to watch him squirm. He was going to make the parrot sing for mercy. Sítheach sat down on his stomach, “You want to see weakness Jove? You want to feel fear?” Such a shame, he was going to stain his nice white satin gloves. He did love this pair too. He felt the ice shape into a handle as he wrapped his fingers around it, “I’ll show you true fear Jove.”
Sítheach grabbed the man’s hair, pulling it back so the man had to look up to his knife. He screamed and thrashed. He cried for help from any of his allies, but they all stood still, petrified with fear and hesitation. The man called out for his husband, but look at that. His husband never appeared. His head turned from side to side, Sítheach let go for a moment to adjust his grip. The man shot his head up, trying to push Sítheach off. Sítheach slammed his head back onto the ground with a thud, pulling open his right eyelid.
That man screamed so loud it made his ears start to ring as he cut out his eye. He continued to scream as he let his head lull to the side, clutching his empty eye socket. Sítheach didn’t move. He watched. Satisfied with the red eye he held in his hand. Blood dripped off the knife and onto the ground below.
Sítheach was too busy listening to the parrot sing to hear someone's footsteps approaching from behind. It was not until a firm hand settled just at the base of his head forcing him to look slightly up. It tore his vision away from the rotting man beneath him. He didn’t fight it but it did make his breathing quicker, he was gonna kill whoever decided to touch him.
The low bass rattled his bones, “Down.”
He let himself relax slightly, not entirely going limp but enough that he wasn’t stiff as stone. It was easy for Seaver to lift him like that, he made sure Sítheach was still staring at the wall covered in flowers and blood. “Drop it,” He commanded. Sítheach let the knife fall and stick into the ground, it was not a good idea to pick a fight with the pirate sea monster who could snap him in half with his pinky. If it were a ranged fight, Sítheach could easily overpower him, but not when they were this close and in this too tiny of a room.
Someone said something that elicited a response from Joktan, “No, because I be the only one of us ballsy enough to be doing this shit.” Sítheach felt himself guided towards the door before he was let go, almost tossed out, “Go, we’ll talk about this later.”
Sítheach huffed, not even looking back. He walked as close as he could to the cliff before crouching. In a moment's notice, springing off the ground and into the air.