[pcs] horse dad

[arkitect]

Comments

[antaressnipe]

[... Eyes softening a bit, at the mention of all the trust extended to him]

Yes, though I would not say I'm particularly deserving of it. Many place import on my counsel without realizing I will always do what must be done for the outcome I desire.

[He is here to help them in whatever way that he can, but on occasion, that means twisting the knowledge they offer freely]

But yes, I will keep you informed. [...] I do thank you for your assistance.

[arkitect]

Then that is their own mistake, in not recognizing what you are. What we are-- that we do not see things in the ways that they do.

[there's nothing to feel bad about, he thinks. it isn't exactly taking advantage, simply... leaving out what the others don't already assume. what they don't know may hurt them, but nothing should be assumed of their kind.]

But you will have my assistance as long as there is need of it.

[antaressnipe]

[... It aches a little to hear, because Emet-Selch is not wrong about the differences between those who have known such a long life, and those doomed to be snuffed out like candles.

But he'd rather just look over in amusement]

Likening yourself to a deity, are you?

[-- He's kidding. Chiron doesn't really consider himself a deity anyway]

[arkitect]

Not exactly, no-- but neither do you often speak of yourself as one.

[he thinks the gap is not so wide, between a deity of the type chiron is and his own nature. the gods emet-selch knows are very different, after all.]

I do think we are similar enough, in the end.

[antaressnipe]

You are not incorrect. At first, I assumed you were a deity of some sort.

[He's not as over the top as some Greek Gods, but Chiron would have believed Emet-Selch had he professed to having his own following]

[arkitect]

Unsurprising. I expect some mortals might, as well.

[he settles a little further into the hammock, exhales slowly.]

Despite the presence of others with similar longevity-- I do feel as if you may be the closest to actually understanding, despite certain differences.

[mostly, you know, how they see the local kids and other assorted mortals.]

[antaressnipe]

... I only understand that time is long, and given enough opportunities, often cruel.

[His hands feel lost with nothing to do, and so he digs around in one of his baskets for a project to fuss over]

Fate works similarly. It will bear its fangs even to those who pay it proper respect -- part of the reason why I gave up prophesy.

[arkitect]

In practicing it, or in listening to it?

[that gets him to glance back over, curious.]

[antaressnipe]

The former, mostly.

[Pulling out a half-finished basket, the dried strips of sturdy grass sticking out like a crown]

I was mostly raised by my Master Apollo -- a god of many disciplines, one being prophecy. He taught me how to measure and read the stars, the earth, the body, the connections that make up the universe...

[gently weaving the grass into each other, now]

But knowing the future does not bring happiness, I soon realized. When fate is harsh, no one wants to see it, understandably. And when fate is kind, greed will often move humans to cruelty, so that they might keep their good fortunes.

[arkitect]

'Tis too harsh a reality for them to see in the ways that they should. They are too shortsighted for it-- too weakened.

[a slight shake of his head, there.]

Better for such things to never be placed in human hands.

[antaressnipe]

Mm. They were.

... But the gods rarely did much better. I cannot fault humans when their deities hold weaknesses of their own.