Ha, don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely a gambler. It’s kinda what I was up to back home, when it comes down to it. I treat all sides of a conflict impartially, since winner or loser, they’re underneath the Black Sun, but doesn’t mean I can’t treat one side with a little fondness.
[ That’s technically what they were going to talk about, since it’s all wrapped up in the end of his world, but he doesn’t mind this path of the conversation. Maybe they’ll get to that. Maybe they won’t. He doesn’t really mind either way, since it always feels more appropriate for those he encounters to direct the conversation as they wish. Whether it’s at a quiet, misty campfire or an ultramodern table sharing an ancient drink, it doesn’t change this part of his duties. ]
If you’re asking, I think you know the answer.
[ Getting to a more serious, philosophical question gets his tone to calm from the playful mischievousness. He nods and tilts his cup around idly in a circle to swirl the liquid. It seems like that might be his only retort, the kind of frustrating non-answer that’s always present in stories of gods (and trickster gods especially!), but he does end up elaborating. ]
Conflict is the driver of change, simple as. It’s the ultimate neutral force, because conflict doesn’t care what it results in, practically speaking. It can be destructive, sure, and that’s what most people tend to think of it as. It’s war and death, or if you take it real personal, it’s “evil”. But it’s creative too. It’s just as much those things as it is a negotiation, personal growth, even the birth of a new life. It’s the struggle that pushes the world forward to a new tomorrow, since whether you’ve survived a blood-soaked battlefield or simply confronted a facet of your own heart, you’re changed. The person you were before belongs only to the past.
[ He takes a drink with his eyes on Kaladin, and the attention is probably slightly uncomfortable. His pale gaze is intense, like he’s able to readily see some secret of Kaladin’s soul. Maybe if he were fully divine, he could, but here? It’s just an expression of interest to see how he might process the idea. ]
no subject
[ That’s technically what they were going to talk about, since it’s all wrapped up in the end of his world, but he doesn’t mind this path of the conversation. Maybe they’ll get to that. Maybe they won’t. He doesn’t really mind either way, since it always feels more appropriate for those he encounters to direct the conversation as they wish. Whether it’s at a quiet, misty campfire or an ultramodern table sharing an ancient drink, it doesn’t change this part of his duties. ]
If you’re asking, I think you know the answer.
[ Getting to a more serious, philosophical question gets his tone to calm from the playful mischievousness. He nods and tilts his cup around idly in a circle to swirl the liquid. It seems like that might be his only retort, the kind of frustrating non-answer that’s always present in stories of gods (and trickster gods especially!), but he does end up elaborating. ]
Conflict is the driver of change, simple as. It’s the ultimate neutral force, because conflict doesn’t care what it results in, practically speaking. It can be destructive, sure, and that’s what most people tend to think of it as. It’s war and death, or if you take it real personal, it’s “evil”. But it’s creative too. It’s just as much those things as it is a negotiation, personal growth, even the birth of a new life. It’s the struggle that pushes the world forward to a new tomorrow, since whether you’ve survived a blood-soaked battlefield or simply confronted a facet of your own heart, you’re changed. The person you were before belongs only to the past.
[ He takes a drink with his eyes on Kaladin, and the attention is probably slightly uncomfortable. His pale gaze is intense, like he’s able to readily see some secret of Kaladin’s soul. Maybe if he were fully divine, he could, but here? It’s just an expression of interest to see how he might process the idea. ]