Wrath

"As I've said before," Wrath began, "4 of us get a raw deal. Lousy working conditions, little to no support, zero recognition. What's being done about it?" "Who are you representing?" the supervisor inquired. "Aside from myself, Pride, Envy, and Greed. Wherever we go, Gluttony and Sloth are happy as clams and - let's face it - the world is Lust's huckleberry." "So ... let's unpack this," the supervisor said, taking a deep breath. "Really, you all have equal flexibility to seek out the environments you'll most thrive in - anywhere in the world. As one of the Seven Deadlies, you have carte blanche to make whatever impact you care to make, answerable to almost no one. And, while you have only to look around to see people losing their shit for no reason in epic numbers, you do not feel validated or appreciated. Have I captured that correctly?" Wrath paused, making a sour face. "I'm playing to type." The supervisor nodded, trying not to smile. "I just ... kind of chewed my spleen in public for no reason there," Wrath reflected, thoroughly irritated. "Well, you're Wrath," the supervisor said with a shrug. "Although I should tell you that you almost had me." "Really?" Wrath responded with a smile. "That's awesome. Thanks for saying that."

Feeder

Shadow