It doesn't. Old gods and long dead tits remain what they are. There is certainty in that. A vow to something that doesn't change is a vow unlikely to be broken.
[If you're loyal to the Ninth, it doesn't really matter whether you feel any loyalty in particular to Harrowhark Nonagesimus.]
Anything else is little more than. . . whims and ephemeral feelings.
[. . . but fine. he digs out his tarot deck, flipping through it for a moment until he finds what he's looking for. A card with the image of the moon (one side - the moon hangs in the sky, alone. the other - its reflection in a lake, a second, red twin behind it.) and puts it down on the table. Then he puts his hand over it.]
On the Moonweaver, I swear to you that I will not betray this oath.
Sure, but you were going to keep complaining about it.
[reaching over to flick her on the forehead before he actually sits down, putting his feet up on the table. she can inspect the card if she wants. the top says MOON and the bottom says SHADOW]
A card that could get me in quite a bit of legal trouble. So keep your mouth fucking shut.
[i cant read my own notes its moon and MIRROR but thats fine]
The Moonweaver isn't exactly an approved goddess in the Empire.
[a snort of laughter.]
As for the card. The Moon can mean a good deal of things. Suppose it depends on context when she's pulled. Illumination. A light in the darkness. The Mirror. An illusion, misdirection, trickery.
Got to have something to believe in. At least a little.
[he reaches over to take the moon card back and shuffle it back into his deck, cutting and sorting without much aim.]
Something in between those two things. Be disrespectful to the cards to say it's all my wonderful words. They've got their own power, but it isn't exactly magic. I'm certainly not casting any spells on them. And it isn't all trickery either. Sometimes you just have to know what people are looking to hear.
When did I say anything about falsehoods. If a man comes in coughing up a lung, I might suggest that the cards are saying to consider see a doctor. Just reading people.
Just because it's interprative doesn't mean I'm lying!
[A scoff, but. He doesn't seem that offended by this take either.]
Beau fucking hated me for it, I'll tell you that. Not a fan of the fortune telling. She didn't much care for me when I was alive most of the time, you know.
Yes, I think so, anyway. Certainly, it was how we all got along.
[His nails tap against the table a bit.]
But as I'm sure you know, I'm rather arrogant about my particular philosophies, and she was looking for a fight with the whole world. But we watched each other's backs. One trash person for another. That was the deal.
... When I got to talk to her here, she had grown a lot.
[Seriously. He can be a bit of a downer. Maybe she's saying kind things more easily because it's kindness week. That doesn't mean she doesn't want to be saying them. Sometimes it's nice, to have the things you want to say anyway come more easily to you.]
It isn't always better to avoid speaking of it. I'd always thought so, but. . . it isn't.
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[If you're loyal to the Ninth, it doesn't really matter whether you feel any loyalty in particular to Harrowhark Nonagesimus.]
Anything else is little more than. . . whims and ephemeral feelings.
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[. . . but fine. he digs out his tarot deck, flipping through it for a moment until he finds what he's looking for. A card with the image of the moon (one side - the moon hangs in the sky, alone. the other - its reflection in a lake, a second, red twin behind it.) and puts it down on the table. Then he puts his hand over it.]
On the Moonweaver, I swear to you that I will not betray this oath.
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So serious! I wasn't going to make you.
[She only meant it meant something more to her, to trust someone based on ephemeral feelings.]
What is this card, then?
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[reaching over to flick her on the forehead before he actually sits down, putting his feet up on the table. she can inspect the card if she wants. the top says MOON and the bottom says SHADOW]
A card that could get me in quite a bit of legal trouble. So keep your mouth fucking shut.
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[She scowls at the flick but she can't protest too much.]
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The Moonweaver isn't exactly an approved goddess in the Empire.
[a snort of laughter.]
As for the card. The Moon can mean a good deal of things. Suppose it depends on context when she's pulled. Illumination. A light in the darkness. The Mirror. An illusion, misdirection, trickery.
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[Literally?]
Tell me . . . is what you do with the cards real? Outside of this place, is there some sort of power involved? Or is it all trickery?
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[he reaches over to take the moon card back and shuffle it back into his deck, cutting and sorting without much aim.]
Something in between those two things. Be disrespectful to the cards to say it's all my wonderful words. They've got their own power, but it isn't exactly magic. I'm certainly not casting any spells on them. And it isn't all trickery either. Sometimes you just have to know what people are looking to hear.
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[A scoff, but. He doesn't seem that offended by this take either.]
Beau fucking hated me for it, I'll tell you that. Not a fan of the fortune telling. She didn't much care for me when I was alive most of the time, you know.
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[He taps the toes of his boots together.]
And my particular outlook was extremely irritating to her. We squabbled. Stupid shit, really.
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[His nails tap against the table a bit.]
But as I'm sure you know, I'm rather arrogant about my particular philosophies, and she was looking for a fight with the whole world. But we watched each other's backs. One trash person for another. That was the deal.
... When I got to talk to her here, she had grown a lot.
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[She leans, resting her chin in her hand.]
She thought highly of you. At least, the version of her who was here did.
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We all look a bit better in hindsight, no?
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But I don't have any hindsight of you. I only have what I know now. And you are worth thinking highly of.
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[turning his hand over to squeeze hers.]
Being a bit of a downer. Whole point is to bring her back and then she can get right back to being irritated at me for my endless bullshit.
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[Seriously. He can be a bit of a downer. Maybe she's saying kind things more easily because it's kindness week. That doesn't mean she doesn't want to be saying them. Sometimes it's nice, to have the things you want to say anyway come more easily to you.]
It isn't always better to avoid speaking of it. I'd always thought so, but. . . it isn't.
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[at least taking his feet off the table.]
Never told so many truths in my life before.
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[Harrow. It's kindness week, please.]
I'm fairly certain that of the two of us, I'm the more practiced liar.
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[and he laughs because. sure.]
Practiced, likely, but mine are much more fun.
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[. . . Hmm.]
When we've finished here, when you return home, what will you do? Is that a problematic question?
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