He seems hesitant, maybe even concerned, that she might have heard of The Voice from someone else. Clearly his goddess was important to him, someone that maybe he cared about. She can’t imagine what that is like, and there’s a twinge of jealousy that others know such fondness of and, more to the point, from, a goddess. At least she assumes from, because it’s hard to care for someone who does not care for you (sometimes, anyway). “Only that she was trapped in the Spire for three hundred years...give or take.” Which is the truth, she knows little else of The Voice. She knows little else of the gods in general other than what people say about them, the tales she grew up hearing. Second hand knowledge was all she could ever hope to have.
She is pleased that he only laughs at her antics, seemingly not offended as she does in fact manage to poke a cheek (at least she missed his eye). She is more pleased still that he is willing to talk about his goddess, and she listens without judgment. Weaver isn’t much for hatred, for hostility, except toward those that threaten her or her family. She doesn’t care, otherwise, knowing full well that the best of intentions almost always go awry or that good intentions disguise truth, but she’d be a hypocrite to pretend that that wasn’t true of herself as much as any goddess. It seems a waste to steep in hate.
He mentions the portals, and she nods, adding no more as they had already discussed the portals and she stands by what she said. They are both good and bad, opening the world up to both opportunity and disaster. It is not, by its nature, a particularly bad plan. It’s just really a matter of what they find. The second part is more interesting and perhaps worrisome, and suddenly the existence of the Ascended makes so much more sense. “What is life without pain, though? We feel pain because we also feel love, joy, happiness...to take away one is to diminish the others, is it not? It’s a noble pursuit but...I…” she trails off, brow furrowed, leaving the thought unfinished.
It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the concept, but she cannot imagine how to do so without turning them all into something akin to robots. It is a not a way Weaver wants to live. “I am glad, at least, she was able to help you with your stutter.” That at least is an easy way to remove some suffering, but to remove all? To help it, certainly, but you cannot simply remove it.
The sun is almost at the baskets, and she turns her attention back to them as they wait to ‘catch’ the sun. ”Any idea what to expect from this festival coming up? Clearly I’ve never gone.”
She is pleased that he only laughs at her antics, seemingly not offended as she does in fact manage to poke a cheek (at least she missed his eye). She is more pleased still that he is willing to talk about his goddess, and she listens without judgment. Weaver isn’t much for hatred, for hostility, except toward those that threaten her or her family. She doesn’t care, otherwise, knowing full well that the best of intentions almost always go awry or that good intentions disguise truth, but she’d be a hypocrite to pretend that that wasn’t true of herself as much as any goddess. It seems a waste to steep in hate.
He mentions the portals, and she nods, adding no more as they had already discussed the portals and she stands by what she said. They are both good and bad, opening the world up to both opportunity and disaster. It is not, by its nature, a particularly bad plan. It’s just really a matter of what they find. The second part is more interesting and perhaps worrisome, and suddenly the existence of the Ascended makes so much more sense. “What is life without pain, though? We feel pain because we also feel love, joy, happiness...to take away one is to diminish the others, is it not? It’s a noble pursuit but...I…” she trails off, brow furrowed, leaving the thought unfinished.
It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the concept, but she cannot imagine how to do so without turning them all into something akin to robots. It is a not a way Weaver wants to live. “I am glad, at least, she was able to help you with your stutter.” That at least is an easy way to remove some suffering, but to remove all? To help it, certainly, but you cannot simply remove it.
The sun is almost at the baskets, and she turns her attention back to them as they wait to ‘catch’ the sun. ”Any idea what to expect from this festival coming up? Clearly I’ve never gone.”
weaver
-- ask no questions, and you'll be told no lies --
Quote by Charles Dickens
