Zanna could tell he was unafraid of her. He seemed almost insane in that manner. Zanna understood no fear, but this was borderline psychopathic. She shouldn't be surprised, he was one after all. And his argument were… She wasn't going to think about them, she had orders and she would follow through with them. She unhooked her whip from her belt ready to use it at a moment's notice as she stared him down, "I was given orders to. So that's the authority I go off of. Not your own idea of when the war is over." Which it never will be as long as you live.
"Hm." Day took another sip of his drink before carefully setting the glass down and leaning against the counter. "Orders? Oh, I see. Because you're a solider, right? Because you do what your superiors– or should I say, masters– tell you to without question?" He chortled. "Soldier. That's funny. You say you're a soldier, but I don't believe you. No, no, no. You're a slave. A slave to the war. A slave to the people that made you. You don't see the truth, because you have been taught to believe a lie. We were enemies during the war, but if it's over, are we still enemies? I know you hate me. Go ahead. Maybe I hate you, too. But hear what I have to say, and maybe you'll realize that I've been your ally all along."
Zanna could feel her blood start to boil at his words. She was no slave! It was preposterous to assume such a thing! It was her choice, she had been given the choice, to go after Day. There was so little that kept her from whipping him here and now. Just to see how he would react to the crack of the whip and the pain afterwards. Instead a small curiosity bloomed in her head. She tried to squash it remembering her mission, but it continued to grow and she couldn't move. Her eyes narrowed at him as she finally spoke, "Fine. Speak. But I am no slave."
"Ooh, so you do want to hear." Day grinned. "Maybe you're not as blind as I thought." He straightened himself, walking a few steps across the room. "Why do you think the Reformers were so bent on taking down the government? What do you think our goal was? Not what your superiors say it was or what you've been told it was– but what do you think it was? Because it wasn't anarchy. And it wasn't to destroy the entire nation, either."
Zanna's knuckles went white with how tight she was gripping on the handle of her whip. She didn't believe a word that came out of his mouth. It was bull, but. But, the government wasn't the Reformers. And he was the leader of the Reformers. This psychopathic man lead them, and Zanna was listening to him some part of her captivated by his words. And worse she was responding. There was an internal battle for her body between the slowly growing curiosity and the rest of her mind, "The word reform itself means change. You wanted to change something, but your still in the wrong here. There are plenty of ways to enact change without starting a war."
Day whirled to face her, his eyes filled with rage– the first bit of real emotion he had shown all evening besides his constant bemusement. "We never started the war," he snarled.
With a sigh, he relaxed his shoulders, resuming his natural eerily-calm behavior. "You're right about the fact that we wanted change. But we were provoked. If the government was so great, then why the crap do you think we'd want to reform it?" He toyed with the necklace hanging around his neck– a plain, silver chain necklace. "I'll admit, the Reformers got a little out of hand towards the end there. A bunch of anarchists thought our cause was just for them– which is why we became renown for owning slaves and doing drugs. That was never part of the agenda; that was brought in on us unintentionally. But your government has been lying to you, little miss." He raised his gaze to meet hers. "You're a child soldier, yes? Raised from your youth to fight Reformers? To kill us?"
"There are always reasons for change, even if I can't see them" Zanna responded a light smile now on her face from finally evoking some other emotion than his false pleasantness. At least he wasn't a psychopath and a sociopath. Her hand relaxed just slightly though she still felt on edge from the fact he was dismissing the very thing that had taken care of her from a young age, "And so what if I was raised in the military. I wasn't the only one."
"Exactly. You weren't the only one. Hundreds and hundreds– maybe thousands– of little kids have been trained up in those armies, never knowing anything but war. Even to this day, your government is still raising child soldiers." Day thoughtfully chewed his lip. "Did you ever wonder where they all came from? Where you came from? Kinda funny that the Reformers kept getting blamed for child kidnappings when the government was pumping all these mysterious children into the army behind the scenes, don't you think?"
"Stop it!" Zanna hissed at him her face narrowing as her knuckles turned white in their fists. The government would never do such a thing! That was the Reformer's doing. What Day was suggesting was insane. She wouldn't, she refused to beleive it. She wanted to lash out physically, it burned in her every muscle to just attack. But something held her back. She guessed some part of her knew that the peices didn't fit quite right and now it was taking control. The fire in her eyes only grew fueled by rage and hatred as she followed up, "You're lying. There's no way around it."
"Oh. I'm lying? That's odd. Then where exactly did the government get all those soldier babies? Or what about all the confidential experiment kids who are now dead or weaponized? Oh, wait. Do you even know about those?" He snorted. "Does it bother you to think that your precious masters might've lied to you?" Day forced an exaggerated gasp. "But they'd never do that, now would they?" he asked mockingly. "No, no, no. They're just golden. The epitome of sainthood."
Zanna cracked her whip beside her faster than any physical reaction possibly could have. She wanted to have whipped it at him, but she couldn't instead doing it by her side. She was fuming at this point and managed to make her way towards him, "You shut your stupid mouth. Now."
Though Day didn't even flinch at the crack of her whip, his gaze did fall on it immediately. If he was afraid, he didn't show it, although it had been rumored previously that whips were his least favorite form of punishment– then again, those rumors merely sparked from the fact that the scar across his face was put there by a whip and that he weilded multiple whips himself in the past. It had been said that he had a collection– which he used to scourge disobedient Reformer agents or punish his enemies.
Whether or not those states were true, one could only speculate.
"Hm. That's funny. I clearly recall you saying that you wanted to hear what I had to say. Now you're threatening me? Well, that's just plain rude. I think you're just upset because you know I'm right."
Zanna saw his gaze go to her whip. She had heard the rumors and hadn't quite believed them. But maybe they held some truth to them. She took a deep breath her mind waging war against herself. Her gaze was cold as she looked at him, "I did say I wanted to hear your side, but not when you. Not when you speak such blatant falsehoods. Unless you can prove your point, then you are lying."
"That can go both ways. Prove me wrong. If the Reformers kidnapped those kids, then what on earth did we do with them? Our only slaves were traitorous agents, so the kids weren't slaves. We didn't kill them, because that would be a waste of both lives and our time. So if we took them– where are they? Oh, and where did you and the other thousands of child soldiers come from? Because you didn't just spawn randomly, I'll tell you that much. And you weren't all orphans either." Day paused. "Oh, but here's the real kicker. If the Reformers took all of those kids, why hasn't there been a single report of anyone kidnapped by the Reformers stepping forward and speaking out about the horrors they endured? We couldn't stop them now that the war is over. So where'd they go? Oh, right. No where. Because we never took them. And for the record, that little kidnapping spree is just one of the things you've been lied too about. There's a crap ton more." Day scratched his chin thoughtfully. "But I'm the deceiver, aren't I? Guess there's absolutely nothing suspicious going on. Your superiors– why, they're just swell. And I'm just a big ol' meanie shattering your world with my evil evil lies," he said in a mock tone, stifling a dry chuckle.
Zanna hated that he made sense. She despised it. No reports had come out from people saying they were kidnapped, but plenty of children grew up in the army. She refused to let him break her with words, but she coiled her whip back up into her hand in one swift movement still scowling. She, she needed the truth now. There was a burning desire to find out if everything she knew was lie, "I wouldn't say shatter. Fine, you win. The government may have been lying, but that was no reason to fight over such a small issue."
"Small issue," Day muttered. "None of the issues we fought over were small. Besides, I told you– we didn't start the war." He picked up his alcohol glass again and swished the drink around inside. "You consider kidnapping a small issue? Abuse of power? Experimentation on other human beings?" He watched the drink in his glass, sighing. He seemed disappointed. Not at her, just in general. "No. They forced us to go to war. We weren't ones to accept defeat– and we only quit when we did because so many people were dying and we were getting nowhere. Prison camps were the worst. They were slaying us left and right. It was monstrous."
"What about everything you did to our soldiers?" Zanna responded her eyes narrowing at him just slightly. She didn't know what had triggered this reaction in him, this disappointment, "I saw the broken look in their eyes whenever they got out of any of your imprisonments. You can call the government, bad, all you want. But that doesn't put you in the right."
"I may not be a good man, but I'm honest. Yeah, I did break down your soldiers. Stripped them apart mentally. Watched them deteriorate and only freed them once they had audibly admitted that our cause was in the right and theirs in the wrong." Day took a swig of his drink and licked his lips. "I watched so many people I loved burn that I think it might've burned the heart out of me, to be perfectly frank. I won't lie. I hated everyone who opposed us in the war. I liked seeing them squirm. I didn't need bloodshed; I was just ruthless. Was I justified? Maybe. Maybe not. But, right or wrong, I'll claim my actions as my own– unlike your twisted allies and leaders."
"What changed then?" Zanna asked him coldly. She didn't think he had changed from the war. He most certainly didn't act like it. In fact, she was still waiting for when he called in his men and she had to fight her way out of this place. It would give her a reason to leave empty-handed because she wasn't sure if she could complete her mission at the moment, "What's stopping you from doing the same thing to me? I'm just another one of those soldiers, aren't I? A slave as you say."
"Yes. You are. You're such a slave. A lap dog to your superiors," Day said absently, setting his glass on the table. "But, I'm not interested in doing the same to you. Not yet. I told you, I'm not bloodthirsty. And even though you came to me admitting that you want me dead, I'm not… mmm… in the mood to play." He arched a brow at her. "Plus, I wonder if there may yet be hope for you."
The only reason he wasn't doing anything was because he wasn't in the mood to play. He was as psychopathic as she remembered the rumors saying he was. Zanna also hated that he thought there was hope for her or the fact that some part of her agreed with him. She wasn't a slave, to her superiors or to Day. That's what she would be a slave to him. She continued to stand strong and watch him, "What hope? Do you think I'll side with you? Not when you keep calling me a slave like you are."
"Sorry. I call things as they are. I don't care if I offend you. You are a slave, like it or not. And I'm not asking you to side with me. I'm asking you to side against them. Go ahead and hate me. Everyone else on earth already does, and I love it. I don't want you to trust me or like me. I just want you to think about what I'm saying." Day tapped the edge of his glass, pondering silently.
Zanna went silent as she heard him. She wasn't going to go against the government. She would never side against them. The government had given her a home and cared for her when no one else did. It might be because they kidnapped you. Zanna pushed that thought deep down and never responded to him. She saw no point in doing so.
"And, in case you're wondering, it's their fault I'm the way I am. If you think I'm a monster, consider them my creators." He finished off his drink before grabbing another bottle. "I know I offered before, but… would you like a drink?"
"I, I wouldn't mind one," Zanna accepted his offer at some contemplation. What did he mean that the government was at fault for the way Day was? Day was a psychopath because Day was a psychopath. The government had no role in that much.
