asgardeventide | (no subject)

[The video feed starts focused in close on a pale blue eye, darting from side to side as its owner attempts to discover if the feed is on. Once that’s apparently ascertained, the picture zooms back to show a face half cloaked in shadow, long pale hair covering what shadows do not. It is a man, perhaps in his mid-twenties, still fine-boned and almost delicate looking, and he is sitting in a dim room, lit only by a single candle.]

Well.

[The voice is higher than one might expect, smooth and cultured. He smiles, and it is at once amused and sharp.]

In light of what we have so recently been told, I have questions for you, my fellow Children of the Child-Worlds. I asked them of Loki, and he made me no answer, so I will ask them of you.

[His expression changes, amusement given way to curiosity, his visible eye seemingly staring straight into the viewer, unblinking. Some might find it a bit unnerving. His voice, though, is calm.]

Why do so many consider the gods liars? Have things they promised come to pass?

And if we fail, what more will be lost than what would be lost if we did nothing?

[after a few seconds, the feed cuts.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

And if you found yourself in their position, what would you offer? Pointing out that you are not is not actually an answer.

Yes, it is only laziness that precludes someone who does not know their birthdate from knowing their age. You enjoy speaking more than listening, don't you? And yet again I ask you, in the context of our conversation, does it make any difference whether I am a thousand years old or another few hundred years beyond that?

That I'm not what?

You can still guess. And yes, it does make a difference.

In their position.

[he sighs a little. this sort of pedantry is not something he would expect of someone as long-lived as he is, but there's no accounting for other worlds. he closes his eyes--or at least the visible one--as he thinks, though it's still visible darting around beneath his eyelid. he sifts through conversations, dreams, things he nearly remembers. after a moment his eye opens again, pupil rapidly shrinking in the candlelight]

At a guess, two hundred more on the thousand, and then twenty or thirty before that. That is my guess.

For one I wouldn't kidnap people. I'd only pick people who can fight in a war and are willing to.

Then I know people older than you!

And if you did not get to choose, and had to work with what you were given?

[...really? the ruined half of his face comes into view for a moment when he laughs, soft and maybe a little tinged with madness]

I know beings older than me too. But I suspect I am not speaking to one, or you would have answered my question. How old are you?

I still wouldn't kidnap people.

[Even though he can't see if she's puffing her cheeks out in annoyance.]

Nineteen.

You do just ignore everything said that doesn't please you, don't you? I think I have the answer to my question, regardless.

[he sounds amused about it.]

And what's that?

I think if you had a good answer, you would have given it. So you don't know. You don't know what they could possibly offer that would be sufficient to convince you, or what you would do in their place.

S - so?? I don't know because I don't know the whole situation! If I knew what they did then I'd be able to make a decision!

Don't you know the situation? We've been told the biggest pieces, I think.

You don't know that for sure.

Very few people know very little for sure. And yet we must all live our lives anyway.