[she listens. she doesn't really understand the memories, but the rest of it makes sense.]
Good. You ought to feel bitter. Let nobility of purpose and peace in sacrifice be left to the dead. They deserve it. Whether or not we're alive, we're here, and we've earned the right to be angry about it all.
The gods really are similar everywhere, aren't they? The good ones and evil ones alike - they ask so very much of their chosen ones, and give so little of themselves in return.
Their favors are rarely given without expectation, and yet still, it is not something one says no to.
[ he'd never asked to be chosen, after all. ]
And when I asked for her aid, I was only ever denied. And then, ignored.
[ but he clams up after that, not entirely certain its wise to continue down a bitter path. at least when he had embraced his role as the villain in the story, he could pretend it was for a better cause than this. ]
Your life may not mean much to her, but it is everything to you. All of that power, and yet she cannot find a way to get what she wants without asking you to sacrifice it.
[sorry but being bitter is great.]
My friend who died - of all of us, he was the only real believer. And the god who chose him, she did appear to him and ask for his help, and he promised it to her. And yet, the way in which he died, in a place we would never have gone if it weren't on the mission they needed us to take... He sacrificed himself because he saw no other way for all of us to get out of there alive. And she did nothing.
I believe the eternal dilemma of the divine is their inability to think as mortals do. Life and death are concepts foreign to them, and they lack understanding of their importance and weight upon our lives. Our vision is a pinprick, enclosed in a tunnel of the potential fear of finality. Yet they also suffer so many of the same foibles as we do - jealousies, pettiness, fear.
Whichever goddess that sent him to his death, I hope she experiences regret at the very least.
[ it sounds like what astarion had levelled at him: simply a waste. ]
[ honestly he's in a enough of a mood that he kind of agrees. let some gods feel some fear for once. the same emotion that karsus felt on his fateful day though, surely. ]
She may, but not out of grief for me. I suppose I've been thinking through her little plan a bit more, and I don't know that it was well-thought-out, even disregarding my demise in it.
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Good. You ought to feel bitter. Let nobility of purpose and peace in sacrifice be left to the dead. They deserve it. Whether or not we're alive, we're here, and we've earned the right to be angry about it all.
The gods really are similar everywhere, aren't they? The good ones and evil ones alike - they ask so very much of their chosen ones, and give so little of themselves in return.
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[ he'd never asked to be chosen, after all. ]
And when I asked for her aid, I was only ever denied. And then, ignored.
[ but he clams up after that, not entirely certain its wise to continue down a bitter path. at least when he had embraced his role as the villain in the story, he could pretend it was for a better cause than this. ]
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[sorry but being bitter is great.]
My friend who died - of all of us, he was the only real believer. And the god who chose him, she did appear to him and ask for his help, and he promised it to her. And yet, the way in which he died, in a place we would never have gone if it weren't on the mission they needed us to take... He sacrificed himself because he saw no other way for all of us to get out of there alive. And she did nothing.
What good is that?
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[ he remembers that at least. ]
I believe the eternal dilemma of the divine is their inability to think as mortals do. Life and death are concepts foreign to them, and they lack understanding of their importance and weight upon our lives. Our vision is a pinprick, enclosed in a tunnel of the potential fear of finality. Yet they also suffer so many of the same foibles as we do - jealousies, pettiness, fear.
Whichever goddess that sent him to his death, I hope she experiences regret at the very least.
[ it sounds like what astarion had levelled at him: simply a waste. ]
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[whew.]
She won't. I hope yours does.
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She may, but not out of grief for me. I suppose I've been thinking through her little plan a bit more, and I don't know that it was well-thought-out, even disregarding my demise in it.
I expect I have a bit of a mess to clean up.
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Then you want another chance?
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[ much like F.C.G., his explosion was elemental enough to make him pretty much unretrievable. ]
I will have to seek greater means. The wish provided here, maybe.
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