[ All right, that one, she has no idea what she might have said wrong, though clearly something hit him badly. Apologizing for trampling over a sore spot she understands is one thing; she's not going to apologize for a rhetorical question.
... So this silence is gonna get a little awkward, then. ]
There's things I think I know. I tried to find out more after we met, but it wasn't easy. Gran told us stories about the Lord of Dreams and the Lady of Death, and the Lord of Destiny's garden. And I found someone saying something about a Desire appearing in the Nag Hammadi codices, but that whole exegesis was a bit hysterical.
[ that hard expression of his makes another appearance now, the muscles bunching around his jaw briefly before loosening once more for his answer, his tone flat. ]
That he has left his realm and ignores his responsibilities as the personification of destruction and creation, no longer directing the affairs over which he has control.
And ... would things be better or worse if he was around?
[ Even as she asks it, she suspects it's a foolish question. "Better" and "worse" is a simplistic binary, and she knows it.
Still: she thinks of heat waves and cold snaps that blanket London more and more lately. Grenfell Tower. Bombs in the tube. Would the havoc humans wreak on the world around them be different if someone was there to oversee it? ]
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Why?
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Seriously?
Because you seemed upset. I'm capable of noticing.
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... So this silence is gonna get a little awkward, then. ]
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What do you know of the Endless?
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[ She shrugs; it's an honest answer. ]
There's things I think I know. I tried to find out more after we met, but it wasn't easy. Gran told us stories about the Lord of Dreams and the Lady of Death, and the Lord of Destiny's garden. And I found someone saying something about a Desire appearing in the Nag Hammadi codices, but that whole exegesis was a bit hysterical.
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[ said mostly even, but there's a note to his tone like one might imagine an elder brother speaking of an irksome sibling. ]
Are you aware of how many there are, at least?
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No, I don't think so. Five? Seven?
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That's six.
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Destruction has abandoned his purpose.
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[ Her eyebrows go up, bemused. ]
What does "abandoned" mean, exactly?
[ Since obviously, like dreaming, mortals are fully capable of destroying on their own. ]
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[ Even as she asks it, she suspects it's a foolish question. "Better" and "worse" is a simplistic binary, and she knows it.
Still: she thinks of heat waves and cold snaps that blanket London more and more lately. Grenfell Tower. Bombs in the tube. Would the havoc humans wreak on the world around them be different if someone was there to oversee it? ]
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And he left centuries ago? Where'd he go?
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You can pass these sorts of things on? Someone could take over your jobs?
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It would not only be the responsibilities he has discarded. Were he to pass his mantle, they would become Destruction.
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