[The funny thing is, Scaramouche hates humans! And also gods! He will sell all of them to satan for one corn chip.
But even though he's far from kind about it, and even though it's far from a soft spot, he can at least acknowledge that children are usually innocent enough. What he feels isn't exactly sorrow or horror for the immense loss of innocent life that's shown to him, but a bitter-edged weariness at the actions of the people who decided it was a worthy sacrifice to make.]
...Can't even carry their own burdens.
[Instead foisting it on a child of barely seven who had certainly not asked for it.]
[her hands are trembling violently and she looks sick, but she covers one of her hands with the other one and holds them stiff in her lap, sitting upright, swallowing down any bile or panic.
no one is supposed to know about this, and that's engrained deeply in her, but here it is.
her voice is tired.]
No. They couldn't.
[they ended their lives some time not long after this.]
[He'd have to be blind to miss a reaction like that. Harrow isn't someone he holds in ill-favor; if this came from someone he genuinely hated, he'd probably delight in that level of anxiety and misery because he is a terrible little cretin.
But as things are, he looks toward her trembling hands and glances off toward some corner below the rudeass screen that has now taken his #1 mortal nemesis spot since the octopus is dead. After a few seconds:]
Gods are often unreasonable, but I like to think that I'm good at keeping my ledgers balanced. [He can't be fucking normal but that is him-speak for "since you've been fair to me, I'll return the favor".]
For what little good it does, consider it forgotten, if that's what you prefer.
[she has always felt a little petty towards him, but the offer he makes is genuine, she can see that well enough. and knowing a little more about him, she feels less inclined to dislike him anyway.
sometimes being cruel and arrogant is a way to insist no one try to meet you on any terms other than that.]
I accept your bargain, and you shall receive, likewise, silence from me. The House of the Sewn Tongue keeps to its vows.
I didn't. That was some four hundred years before I died, and I never went back to that place after I left it that day. There was hardly anything worth staying for.
[He really holds his grudges. He holds onto them with his little fists of fury so tightly for literal centuries. But then, essentially returning the question:]
My parents died not long after this. I am responsible for the well-being of the Ninth House, and always will be. They are blameless in the choices made by my family, and I will not allow them to suffer for it.
But I have left, to seek audience with the Emperor. I believed I could serve better by impressing upon him the need for intercession than I could have remaining.
Oh, I'm not foolish enough to think age and utility correlate. Some have been around hundreds of years more than even myself, and yet, they're far more useless. Still, being capable of carrying a weight doesn't change the weight itself.
[This is treading grossly close to sounding vaguely understanding though and he can't be having that SO INSTEAD:] No plan is foolproof, anyway, but it's always entertaining to cause a stir among the powers that be, if nothing else. If you light enough of a fire, you'll probably get a good reaction.
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outsidebones) wrote2023-02-05 05:57 pm
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[but before she can say more, a memory of her own plays.]
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But even though he's far from kind about it, and even though it's far from a soft spot, he can at least acknowledge that children are usually innocent enough. What he feels isn't exactly sorrow or horror for the immense loss of innocent life that's shown to him, but a bitter-edged weariness at the actions of the people who decided it was a worthy sacrifice to make.]
...Can't even carry their own burdens.
[Instead foisting it on a child of barely seven who had certainly not asked for it.]
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no one is supposed to know about this, and that's engrained deeply in her, but here it is.
her voice is tired.]
No. They couldn't.
[they ended their lives some time not long after this.]
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But as things are, he looks toward her trembling hands and glances off toward some corner below the rudeass screen that has now taken his #1 mortal nemesis spot since the octopus is dead. After a few seconds:]
Gods are often unreasonable, but I like to think that I'm good at keeping my ledgers balanced. [He can't be fucking normal but that is him-speak for "since you've been fair to me, I'll return the favor".]
For what little good it does, consider it forgotten, if that's what you prefer.
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sometimes being cruel and arrogant is a way to insist no one try to meet you on any terms other than that.]
I accept your bargain, and you shall receive, likewise, silence from me. The House of the Sewn Tongue keeps to its vows.
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But he just nods, seemingly satisfied with the arrangement. Transactional agreements are much easier to deal with when you're emotionally stunted!]
I don't break my word, either. [For the things that matter, anyway...] So it's a bargain made. [There's a little pause for consideration, and then:]
Likewise, since I hate when people act like it's better to simply pretend they never saw anything, I'll answer any questions, if you have any to ask.
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I will grant the same.
I suppose I wish to know whether you still remained in that place, before you death.
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[He really holds his grudges. He holds onto them with his little fists of fury so tightly for literal centuries. But then, essentially returning the question:]
Are you still tied to that place?
[He's already assuming the answer is yes.]
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[he's allowed to have grudges.]
My parents died not long after this. I am responsible for the well-being of the Ninth House, and always will be. They are blameless in the choices made by my family, and I will not allow them to suffer for it.
But I have left, to seek audience with the Emperor. I believed I could serve better by impressing upon him the need for intercession than I could have remaining.
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[Considering she'd glimpsed his futile efforts at essentially trying to do the same thing. Sometimes you go for help and no help comes!
He'll glance back her way, then, resting his chin against the heel of his palm. It's more an idle remark than anything, when he says:]
Quite a heavy weight for someone so young to be carrying.
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[but yes, she understands the irony of the comment, considering.]
The intention is to prove myself in a manner which will be impossible for him to ignore. I recognize is it not a foolproof plan.
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[This is treading grossly close to sounding vaguely understanding though and he can't be having that SO INSTEAD:] No plan is foolproof, anyway, but it's always entertaining to cause a stir among the powers that be, if nothing else. If you light enough of a fire, you'll probably get a good reaction.
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[guess she'll beat up god? she hasn't met him yet and developed a weird daddy complex about him so she can just say that openly.]
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He just nods though, unable to see the tragedy of daddy complexing the emperor in her future.]
For however fortunate or unfortunate as it may be, I think it's well-proven that people tend to listen to force. It's not a bad fallback at all.