Prompt: Care
Dear Father Midwinter,
You are supposedly a jolly fat man in a red suit who visits every good child in the world to give him toys.
Ignoring the fact that this is impossible, why would you do such a thing? People only do things if there is something in it for them. Nobles give toys to the orphanage because it makes them look good and they think it makes up for all the terrible things they do. You don't have to make yourself look good. You live alone at the top of the world.
Not believing your stupid lies,
Blayce
Prompt: Good
Dear Father Midwinter,
The priestesses who run the orphanage claim you deliver toys to all the good children. Who says that you get to judge who's good and bad? You're immortal, you know everything, and you can be everywhere at once. What do you understand about hunger, about cold, about envy, about rats in the walls and mold on the floors? What do you understand about misery? What do you understand about having to be grateful for every little crumb that they throw you and having to watch other people being handed everything on a silver platter?
Damn you,
Blayce
Prompt: Toys
Dear Father Midwinter,
Mithros created everything and he is always watching. He watches men hit their wives. He watches children starve. He watches murders, rapes, death, and misery. And he doesn't do a thing about it.
Mithros is all powerful. If something he doesn't like is happening, he can fix it. Therefore, if he doesn't fix it, he must like it. He plays with people like they are dolls he wants to torture and destroy. I think that it is good to be Mithros and bad to be anyone else.
Therefore, I would like to be Mithros.
Yours sincerely,
Blayce