( an impartial god. he was bothered by that when he first arrived, but after a few discussions with tezcatlipoca, he's come to accept him like a man would a sensation on the skin. he can philosophize about how and why a feeling exists, but never fully grasp how it came into being. although tezcatlipoca looks and acts human, he isn't. he's a concept, and there's something indescribably natural about that and his presence in the room.
tezcatlipoca stares at him, and kaladin stares back. he doesn't shy from it, accustomed to staring death in the face. that doesn't mean he doesn't recall how those times felt. he was scared, yesβso scared of dying. but tezcatlipoca's attention gives him the same sense of total calm as standing at the edge of the honour chasm. that night, the wind pushed at his back and the rain wetted the surface of the rock beneath his feet. both promised him that even if he lost his nerve, they would help him follow through.
kaladin's foot slides forward beneath the table, and the toe of his boot meets tezcatlipoca's in a tap that startles damp eyes into awareness. he's momentarily stunned; here, there's a solid floor, not the open air of a sheer drop into the dark. )
Storms, Tezcatlipoca, I'm sorry, ( he whispers, realizing he's become emotional. his hand leaves his drink to erase that sign of stress, once with the heel of his palm and again with the backs of his fingers. ) That only conflict can bring about a change is hard to accept. The more I try to understand that, the more I want to deny it. I suppose the last push toward acceptance is all a big part of it, but while I'm physically able to distance myself from the past, mentally I... I'm very tired.
( forcing a smile makes his face look stiff, so it's dropped, effort wasted. it won't be believed. but either way, tezcatlipocaβboth the ache in his throat and the relief of it subsidingβwill continue to drink with him. that's an encouraging thought.
eventually, this life will end. eventually, the conflict will stop. but not yet. they still have drinks to drink. )
Thank you for defining it. For explaining yourself, and for being patient. I know I'm... difficult.
cw: more suicidal ideation/dissociation... will e-transfer $200 for therapy session
tezcatlipoca stares at him, and kaladin stares back. he doesn't shy from it, accustomed to staring death in the face. that doesn't mean he doesn't recall how those times felt. he was scared, yesβso scared of dying. but tezcatlipoca's attention gives him the same sense of total calm as standing at the edge of the honour chasm. that night, the wind pushed at his back and the rain wetted the surface of the rock beneath his feet. both promised him that even if he lost his nerve, they would help him follow through.
kaladin's foot slides forward beneath the table, and the toe of his boot meets tezcatlipoca's in a tap that startles damp eyes into awareness. he's momentarily stunned; here, there's a solid floor, not the open air of a sheer drop into the dark. )
Storms, Tezcatlipoca, I'm sorry, ( he whispers, realizing he's become emotional. his hand leaves his drink to erase that sign of stress, once with the heel of his palm and again with the backs of his fingers. ) That only conflict can bring about a change is hard to accept. The more I try to understand that, the more I want to deny it. I suppose the last push toward acceptance is all a big part of it, but while I'm physically able to distance myself from the past, mentally I... I'm very tired.
( forcing a smile makes his face look stiff, so it's dropped, effort wasted. it won't be believed. but either way, tezcatlipocaβboth the ache in his throat and the relief of it subsidingβwill continue to drink with him. that's an encouraging thought.
eventually, this life will end. eventually, the conflict will stop. but not yet. they still have drinks to drink. )
Thank you for defining it. For explaining yourself, and for being patient. I know I'm... difficult.