"That's rather small of her." He pointed out, apparently non-plused. He certainly wasn't horrified, or if he was, it didn't show. There was likely no reason at this point to explain his reaction, but he would anyway. The raven deserved it after all, for previous explanations had been rather paltry and this new information certainly factored in. "From what I know of her, and maybe that knowledge will be furthered in this letter, she could have done something very similar even a month or two ago. By that point she had met me, had certain things freely given from me, be they objects or information or parts of my past. With enough time and effort, she could have crafted something, some facade, glamour, akin to myself. It would have been a worthwhile exercise, an act of art, something with real impact. She could have done if anyway, that's the point." Which was not in and of itself a reason to give away the keys to the castle, unless... "Now when she does it, it'll give her a moment's amusement but no lasting joy. It's too easy. She cavorts at one wedding. Will she do so at a second? Probably not. I took the fun out of for her and even bestowed upon her the specter of responsibility. It's in her care now when it was something she was violating before. And if you tell her this and then she does the opposite, then she's just acting like a little girl swaddled in spite. My reputation's worth less than her dignity."
Finn,
It's interesting that you did not think of it at length. It seemed straightforward. Here you are, changing lives, meting out justice or punishment, righting scales, and it all comes so naturally to you that you don't give it a second thought. That is not to say that the need was suspect, but the means? Likewise, why use the draught when you could have made them feel tired any number of other ways. I spent a year of my life thinking on my actions. Here you just slip into the easy, natural path without question. In what role were you cast here? Judge? Jury? Executioner? It sounds to me like you were little more than the blade. By what hand?
Shall we speak of truth or joy? Snakes? Is pleasure the highest end? Life has its limits so we must strive for enjoyment at all times? Pure, wanton hedonism? Who's to say that my joy is worth more than someone else's? Who's to say it isn't? What if I sacrifice joy for another but that other doesn't do the same for me? What if we both do it and ultimately neither of us feels any joy and our efforts are wasted? Am I to fear your joy? Then, am I to oppose it? Hardly. You're that rare sort of royal, the one who takes the weight of her crown seriously. You have more to fear from your own capacity for regret than I do for your desire for enjoyment.
Beasts and men. Empathy and awareness. Sentience. Glamour and iron. Names and souls. Freedom. Agelessness. There's such chaos in all of it. It all seems so capricious and haphazard. Yet there are rules and Laws, aren't there? Are they our attempts to force order? But why are you so thoroughly bound to your own then?
In the face of all that, you claim not to care about the past, nor the future, not really. Just the present. It's a strong boast and a paltry lie.
Your question is a good one, good enough that we need not talk about Catch (though I would) or of specifics of what I did. Would I do it again? No, I would not. I would do something better that achieves better results with less cost. As I said, I'd try not to do it alone. I do not think there's any way that what I did could have gone right, so your question is innately broken, good but broken. The path had consequences. Everything would have ended correctly? Perhaps, but with too many scars and too much emptiness along the way. Do you find that a satisfying answer despite it all? You should. I do.
You dislike themes. I imagine you dislike my organization. You position yourself against order itself? I wonder if that's not due to your longevity. Endless stagnation would be eternal punishment.
As for True Tom, and I am somewhat loathe to write these words, this goes back to questions we have discussed before. Are we who we are or are we what we are? How much does the one shape the other? What if you remove one element? What if you add another instead? My experiences have shaped me. Removing my capacity for introspection changed me in many ways, absolutely for the worse. That was freeing. Would removing my mortality do the same? Do we run this experiment upon ourselves every time we look for a piece of new information or seek out a new experience? In a year's time, will you become bored or afraid of stagnation or the pace of our words upon each other and wonder how interesting I might be if I was just a tiny bit different? Will that bring you enjoyment or regret?
I am arrogant enough to think I will never bore you. Is that the foolishness I shall finally be punished for?
Glenn
Halfway
33 posts
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Re: Halfway
by Glenn » Fri Mar 30, 2018 8:37 am
- Glenn
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Re: Halfway
by Niabh » Sun Apr 01, 2018 8:29 am
“I think maybe you’d better ask her the wherewithals of this name thing,” the raven said gravely. “Because maybe she hasn’t explained to you exactly why she’s so all-fired eager to get it back to you that she’d ride a hundred leagues in the rain and drag my sorry arse with her. Just her comin' here—this place ain't good for her. I even tried to explain to her, look, you don't understand, you already think Myrken's too big and this place is like twenty Myrkens. You can guess about how well that went. I do not wanner be the bird to fly back to Cnoch-na-Niall and give His Lordship the bad news. That bastard’s never heard the one about not shooting the messenger.”
The raven had made a bad decision. He had weighed his options between two terribly stubborn people and somehow determined that Glenn was the more reasonable of the pair. In the bird's defense, he realized the margin between the two was so slim as to be practically invisible, but he also held out the wan hope that Glenn, if nothing else, would be more inclined to at least entertain the argument, rather than raising his chin and barrelling ahead. His breast feathers rose into scalloped ridges as he took a deep breath, then took the plunge.
“Look. I didn’t want to get into this any more than I already have, but when she shows up, could you for once in your feckin’ life be the bigger man and concede? Take back your godsdamn name, don't be an arse about it, let her do this stupid thing of hers so she can go back ho—Myrken.” The correction twisted his black tongue. There was no concealing it. He let out one of his dry, rustling sighs. “This is a dumb game you two are playin’. She ain’t gonner swerve. I don’t know why, I don’t know what the hell you’ve said to her, but she’s stuck on provin’ this point, and it’s dumb. There is no point. You two…you invented a point between you and both of you’ve forgotten it ain’t really real. One of you’s gonner get hurt. Maybe both of you. And for no other reason than pure pigheadedness, your end and hers.”
And then he deflated, defeated but satisfied. If things went to shit later, no one could ever accuse him of doing nothing.
Dear Glenn Elias Burnie,
I tell you once that I enjoy your questions and now I feel like the fellow who wished for all the gold in the world and ended up crushed under it. Having been courted by and courted as both, one thing I have noticed is that men like single grand gestures while women prefer a series of constant small tokens. It is like choosing between stuffing oneself at a banquet to stave off hunger the rest of one’s life, or receiving a single slice of bread every day; or, in a perhaps more accurate comparison, a man spends himself once and call it a success, while a woman can last all night given attention.
7. At first I did not understand “hedonism” because I was trying to figure out what a hedon was. Now I have some better notion and I support the concept wholeheartedly.
8. You are to say if your joy is worth more than someone else’s. You have already done it. You sequester yourself that the thing you love will know no more suffering at your hands. I have my doubts as to whether or not this is entirely useful, but you have done it, at considerable cost to yourself, and so know it can be done.
9. See 8.
10. I did not free the bear because I thought it would do me a good turn later, like the old fenodyree in the fable. That is the worst reason to do anything. I did it because it distressed me to see it suffer and gave me pleasure to know that its suffering was at an end. I transformed the livery man because it made me angry that he should get away with his rudeness, and it pleased me that he be punished for it. I can even say that it gave me pleasure to do it, to plot it out and see how well it could be done. How do you punish criminals here? You take away the pleasure of their liberty, or of their lives. You put them in the stocks some place public and let them suffer a day or so to take away the pleasure of comfort, and to humble them to take away the pleasure of their pride. As ever, my punishment is more literal than yours, but it functions much the same.
11. Considering I reckon our correspondence one of my joys, I am not sure how you would oppose it when you enable it. You could always stop writing. But that would be its own pain for you now, would it not? I near would challenge you to try, except that you would. I would wager you fail. You would take to a diary and start writing letters to yourself. Sad salmon, alone in your pond, chasing your tail and never catching it, all this wisdom and no one to inflict it on.
12. There is no rule and no law unless one is bound to it. What you call “law” here are but gutters built to keep the blood from spilling over and flooding the streets—and a piss-poor job they do of that.
13. Tell me, Glenn Elias Burnie, why your people have laws. Is it to create safety? One need only walk along the Myrken docks by night to know that it has failed. Is it to enforce goodness? You yourself have seen what comes of having such a thing enforced. To dictate morality? Were it true morality, it need not be dictated, for everyone would hold it to heart it already. To codify morality is a veneer of hypocrisy (and here I confess that I think this is closer to the truth of your laws: they exist so you may write them out and hang them on a wall and proclaim them to be the virtues your people hold most dear, except that no one actually intends to follow them; they pretend, but worm around them as much as they can). Is it to further entrench those in power? Then it is no true law, only a pretext for power. (I do not say that is unacceptable, only that it is so.) Do you set them as a good example and hope people will get around to following them? In the Dagger’s privy there is a ewer set there in the same hope, and I assure you, no one has ever used it.
I am sure that somewhere is an honest farmer to whom it has never occurred to steal a penny or raise a fist in anger, but there arises a whole new set of implications: does he think it wrong to do so? Then he has no need of the law. Would he, but fears punishment? Then he does not refrain out of goodness, but cowardice. (Again, I do not find that reason unacceptable.) Or is it something so mundane as that the opportunity never presented itself? Then he was never honest.
In short, the contradiction of your law is that those who keep it are the ones who have no use for laws, for they would do as you think they ought regardless; and those who would break it have no use for laws, for they will do as they will, law or none.
14. The laws by which I am bound are simpler: they are for safety, to keep us free. But then there lies the heart of the matter. How are we made so differently, that the things that bind us bind us alone? The bard believe
Here the sentence veered off into a scrawl that skidded off the page so violently the point of the quill left a tiny rip in the margin. When the letter resumed, the penmanship was more delicate, the lines thinner; plainly she had cut a fresh nib.
It would appear that this is one of those things I am not to speak of. At least you have some example of what happens.
To continue:
And one last question: did you ask all these questions to please me or was the plan to punish me by surfeit because you were pissed about the wedding? You clearly get no joy from your seeming, so I thought one of us should.
Finn
The raven had made a bad decision. He had weighed his options between two terribly stubborn people and somehow determined that Glenn was the more reasonable of the pair. In the bird's defense, he realized the margin between the two was so slim as to be practically invisible, but he also held out the wan hope that Glenn, if nothing else, would be more inclined to at least entertain the argument, rather than raising his chin and barrelling ahead. His breast feathers rose into scalloped ridges as he took a deep breath, then took the plunge.
“Look. I didn’t want to get into this any more than I already have, but when she shows up, could you for once in your feckin’ life be the bigger man and concede? Take back your godsdamn name, don't be an arse about it, let her do this stupid thing of hers so she can go back ho—Myrken.” The correction twisted his black tongue. There was no concealing it. He let out one of his dry, rustling sighs. “This is a dumb game you two are playin’. She ain’t gonner swerve. I don’t know why, I don’t know what the hell you’ve said to her, but she’s stuck on provin’ this point, and it’s dumb. There is no point. You two…you invented a point between you and both of you’ve forgotten it ain’t really real. One of you’s gonner get hurt. Maybe both of you. And for no other reason than pure pigheadedness, your end and hers.”
And then he deflated, defeated but satisfied. If things went to shit later, no one could ever accuse him of doing nothing.
Dear Glenn Elias Burnie,
I tell you once that I enjoy your questions and now I feel like the fellow who wished for all the gold in the world and ended up crushed under it. Having been courted by and courted as both, one thing I have noticed is that men like single grand gestures while women prefer a series of constant small tokens. It is like choosing between stuffing oneself at a banquet to stave off hunger the rest of one’s life, or receiving a single slice of bread every day; or, in a perhaps more accurate comparison, a man spends himself once and call it a success, while a woman can last all night given attention.
- 1. The means suited my goals, my desires, and the resources available. Doubtless you would have come up with a different plan that would have worked just as well, but you were not there to be consulted and I could not linger long enough to write for your opinion. Yet I feel what you are really asking is if I have such power, why not use it? Down that path lies darker questions, such as if I have power, why waste it setting right little wrongs? If I am so opposed to human custom, as I say I am, why not take myself to the capitol and set about dismantling everything I dislike about it from the center outward? What will have to happen before that thought occurs to me? And then I must wonder what you would have done in times before, if you were I. I wonder very much if you judge all by your own deeds, that everyone has the potential to be as good as you are, and as bad as you were. I have my opinions on your relative goodness or badness but would rather not say, only that is very much a human habit to believe that if they have the ability to do something, that thing must be done.
Capacity does not equal desire. I am capable of a number of things, as are you. We do not do them because it does not suit us, and because we have reason enough to reflect on consequence. I would then point out that I am even now headed toward your capitol and ought not to be encouraged.
2. I shall take these four questions as one and say that I was cast as queen.
3. A queen who cannot serve as her own blade does not deserve to be let out alone.
4. I refuse to entertain a lecture on joy from the likes of you, as we have already established that you fail at fun. Or were you implying that truth and joy are exclusive?
5. When I first arrived here, there was a man at a fair with a snake twice as long as he was, that he said could swallow a goat whole. When he offered it around, it was soft as suede, and so cool to the touch one would have scarce thought it truly alive, but that it breathed. That was the first snake I ever saw. I have since learned that they are usually somewhat smaller and that people are particularly afraid of sticking their hand into a dark low place and finding one. They make a good metaphor in that regard.
6. Pleasure is most certainly the highest end. Is that not what you would have for your own people? Does not a world of less suffering mean more opportunity to seek pleasure? Is suffering not by definition a lack of pleasure, or would you define both as the outmost extreme—suffering on one end, pleasure at the other? What then is the common center? What do you expect folk will
7. At first I did not understand “hedonism” because I was trying to figure out what a hedon was. Now I have some better notion and I support the concept wholeheartedly.
8. You are to say if your joy is worth more than someone else’s. You have already done it. You sequester yourself that the thing you love will know no more suffering at your hands. I have my doubts as to whether or not this is entirely useful, but you have done it, at considerable cost to yourself, and so know it can be done.
9. See 8.
10. I did not free the bear because I thought it would do me a good turn later, like the old fenodyree in the fable. That is the worst reason to do anything. I did it because it distressed me to see it suffer and gave me pleasure to know that its suffering was at an end. I transformed the livery man because it made me angry that he should get away with his rudeness, and it pleased me that he be punished for it. I can even say that it gave me pleasure to do it, to plot it out and see how well it could be done. How do you punish criminals here? You take away the pleasure of their liberty, or of their lives. You put them in the stocks some place public and let them suffer a day or so to take away the pleasure of comfort, and to humble them to take away the pleasure of their pride. As ever, my punishment is more literal than yours, but it functions much the same.
11. Considering I reckon our correspondence one of my joys, I am not sure how you would oppose it when you enable it. You could always stop writing. But that would be its own pain for you now, would it not? I near would challenge you to try, except that you would. I would wager you fail. You would take to a diary and start writing letters to yourself. Sad salmon, alone in your pond, chasing your tail and never catching it, all this wisdom and no one to inflict it on.
12. There is no rule and no law unless one is bound to it. What you call “law” here are but gutters built to keep the blood from spilling over and flooding the streets—and a piss-poor job they do of that.
13. Tell me, Glenn Elias Burnie, why your people have laws. Is it to create safety? One need only walk along the Myrken docks by night to know that it has failed. Is it to enforce goodness? You yourself have seen what comes of having such a thing enforced. To dictate morality? Were it true morality, it need not be dictated, for everyone would hold it to heart it already. To codify morality is a veneer of hypocrisy (and here I confess that I think this is closer to the truth of your laws: they exist so you may write them out and hang them on a wall and proclaim them to be the virtues your people hold most dear, except that no one actually intends to follow them; they pretend, but worm around them as much as they can). Is it to further entrench those in power? Then it is no true law, only a pretext for power. (I do not say that is unacceptable, only that it is so.) Do you set them as a good example and hope people will get around to following them? In the Dagger’s privy there is a ewer set there in the same hope, and I assure you, no one has ever used it.
I am sure that somewhere is an honest farmer to whom it has never occurred to steal a penny or raise a fist in anger, but there arises a whole new set of implications: does he think it wrong to do so? Then he has no need of the law. Would he, but fears punishment? Then he does not refrain out of goodness, but cowardice. (Again, I do not find that reason unacceptable.) Or is it something so mundane as that the opportunity never presented itself? Then he was never honest.
In short, the contradiction of your law is that those who keep it are the ones who have no use for laws, for they would do as you think they ought regardless; and those who would break it have no use for laws, for they will do as they will, law or none.
14. The laws by which I am bound are simpler: they are for safety, to keep us free. But then there lies the heart of the matter. How are we made so differently, that the things that bind us bind us alone? The bard believe
Here the sentence veered off into a scrawl that skidded off the page so violently the point of the quill left a tiny rip in the margin. When the letter resumed, the penmanship was more delicate, the lines thinner; plainly she had cut a fresh nib.
It would appear that this is one of those things I am not to speak of. At least you have some example of what happens.
To continue:
- 15. (Here I skip two questions because they are rhetorical.)
16. If I asked you questions expecting satisfaction, I would have given up long ago. As it stands, I expect only honesty (though betimes your honesty is very thin gruel indeed, questions and contradictions, as if you would grind down truth itself into component particles) but I believe you are as honest as you are able. Rather, I believe that you believe you are being honest, both with me and with yourself. If you were ever dishonest with me, I should take steps, but I have no right to punish you for being dishonest with yourself, though I might pity you for it.
17. If order exists, it is only on such a grand scale that to be opposed to it, or in concord with it, affects its outcome not a mote, like a reed that thinks it changes the course of the river. There are such things in the world that move without concern for us, the seasons and the stars, and the gods, and things greater still that move with such slowness and grandeur and in such vast patterns that they cannot be perceived. But I am queen and in this world a queen is no small thing. I move what may be moved and leave larger things to the gods. You impose what you think is order, and true order laughs at you—or would, if it knew you were there. You stand against it; I prefer to dance with it, as it were music.
18. I am with you. We have worn this subject to rags. You know my opinion on it. I skip all four questions.
19. I do not know what removing your mortality would do to you because I wonder what you mean by it. To live forever, or at least as long as we? If you lived as long as we, I expect you would grouse and grump for a few decades about how unnatural it all is, but then you would find something to do with yourself. But I think for you, mortality must mean something more than life. Will you tell me?
20. I do not even understand what this question is about. Is this something your people must do—change your whole selves whenever you have a new idea? How do you retain anything?
21. I shall see you grow old, Glenn Elias Burnie, or in this fickle world I should say, I hope I will see you live long enough to grow old. I will see what becomes of you. That should suit me for a long while yet.
22. Cruelty and rudeness are cause for punishment. For foolishness I but tweak noses.
And one last question: did you ask all these questions to please me or was the plan to punish me by surfeit because you were pissed about the wedding? You clearly get no joy from your seeming, so I thought one of us should.
Finn
Anything can be magic if you're gullible enough.
-
Niabh - Member
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Re: Halfway
by Glenn » Tue Apr 10, 2018 12:00 am
Burnie always had a hundred questions he could ask the Raven. Rarely, did he. Niall. Not only was that the name of an anti-social young (though not as young as she was) warmage, it was also the name of his correspondent's clan or tribe. 'Cnoch-na-Naill' therefore, was likely lands or a manor house, something along those lines. He was tempted to ask, if only to hear the bird squawk the words out again (he was not beyond petty amusement), to ask that and so much else. His friend played a unique role in this drama, however. He would answer questions, but then she would know that he had asked. Burnie made a game of caging her with that which she could not bear (Would Ariane approve? Likely not. On the one hand, she would wish to keep himself safe. On the other, this was wholly a voluntary exercise. Though, she'd understand his need and accept it as an affectation that came with the territory, that you couldn't have one without the other, like how any other man might need air).
He exhaled. The Raven was speaking and in concerned tones. It took Burnie a moment to catch up. "I'm not going to promise that;" conceding, that was. "But," as if to show he was capable of the trait, at least. "I will respect that this was important enough for her to come here. Unless it's just a case of her being bored like you said. You can't have it both ways, you know. Or maybe she can't."
Finn,
What a game, spite and affection and pride all mixed in. We drown each other in kindnesses and excess. Twenty-two numbered answers are not small tokens. You understand this, yes? I will avoid your other metaphor as I will avoid so many of your answers for now. I think you would do well at Court, this Court, that Court. Court. Except for the fact that you go about exclaiming your intention with every action, all the while asking me about mine. I enjoy it, of course, but not so much so that I would not warn you against it. With me, it's fine, of course.
The use of my name are interesting. From what I have seen (and thus from what I have been able to further learn now that you gave me threads to follow; I'd be a fool not to so you may not touch my nose), they are more esoteric than I expected. I was expecting something akin to your Laws, that I would not be able to speak ill of you, that sort of thing. I anticipated breaking past those limits at no small cost to myself. It's not why I did what I did, but you know that sort of thing is always on the back of my mind.
You know.
That is the real danger in it, despite what you think. She knew me utterly. Our minds were intertwined. Our thoughts were clear to each other, always. There was no room for mistake. When you come here, you may relinquish my name. You may cause mischief with it. You may utterly destroy me with it if things go as poorly as they did last time. What you cannot do, what you cannot let me talk you into doing in a moment of weakness is this: you cannot become me so deeply that you understand me as she did, not even if we devise some clever way for you to return to yourself and me to return to myself in the end. I should have a hundred fears of what I gave you? No, I only have one, and it is that temptation. I know what I have lost. Whatever else I reclaim through my interactions with you, do not let me suggest that.
There, that's said. I'm sure we both feel better.
Joy, then. I'm not sure I can follow that with joy. What gives me pleasure right now? Receiving these letters do. You may blush accordingly. Speaking with the Raven does. He may blush as well. Stymieing. I like Stymieing. We're not so different in that regard. Justice or comeuppance. That's a better word for it isn't it? We both thoroughly enjoy proper comeuppance. If I was younger, we could go about tearing things down, you and I. Your lands and mine, shattering delusions and improprieties and cruel manipulations. I'd surely enjoy it now, keeping a portfolio of those who needed to be torn down, researching and coming back to you and the two of us devising a plan for each target, forcing a rebalancing upon the world. I'd say that you should have known me when I was younger, but you would have just squandered me. In being the Fairy Queen with me now, you can only punish me (and less than I could punish myself so there's no point). Perhaps if you put in the legwork to watch me heal further, I'd reach a point where you could punish me more than I could punish myself and then you'd be obliged. Are you dooming yourself to that?
This is what happens when I try to speak of joy? I know moments of peace. Sometimes I seek those out more than pleasure or joy.
The litany of questions had nothing to do with me being upset with you. As for any specific question I have left unanswered or any response of yours I did not engage, you'll soon enough have the chance to ask me in person. That'll likely bring you more enjoyment anyway.
Glenn
He exhaled. The Raven was speaking and in concerned tones. It took Burnie a moment to catch up. "I'm not going to promise that;" conceding, that was. "But," as if to show he was capable of the trait, at least. "I will respect that this was important enough for her to come here. Unless it's just a case of her being bored like you said. You can't have it both ways, you know. Or maybe she can't."
Finn,
What a game, spite and affection and pride all mixed in. We drown each other in kindnesses and excess. Twenty-two numbered answers are not small tokens. You understand this, yes? I will avoid your other metaphor as I will avoid so many of your answers for now. I think you would do well at Court, this Court, that Court. Court. Except for the fact that you go about exclaiming your intention with every action, all the while asking me about mine. I enjoy it, of course, but not so much so that I would not warn you against it. With me, it's fine, of course.
The use of my name are interesting. From what I have seen (and thus from what I have been able to further learn now that you gave me threads to follow; I'd be a fool not to so you may not touch my nose), they are more esoteric than I expected. I was expecting something akin to your Laws, that I would not be able to speak ill of you, that sort of thing. I anticipated breaking past those limits at no small cost to myself. It's not why I did what I did, but you know that sort of thing is always on the back of my mind.
You know.
That is the real danger in it, despite what you think. She knew me utterly. Our minds were intertwined. Our thoughts were clear to each other, always. There was no room for mistake. When you come here, you may relinquish my name. You may cause mischief with it. You may utterly destroy me with it if things go as poorly as they did last time. What you cannot do, what you cannot let me talk you into doing in a moment of weakness is this: you cannot become me so deeply that you understand me as she did, not even if we devise some clever way for you to return to yourself and me to return to myself in the end. I should have a hundred fears of what I gave you? No, I only have one, and it is that temptation. I know what I have lost. Whatever else I reclaim through my interactions with you, do not let me suggest that.
There, that's said. I'm sure we both feel better.
Joy, then. I'm not sure I can follow that with joy. What gives me pleasure right now? Receiving these letters do. You may blush accordingly. Speaking with the Raven does. He may blush as well. Stymieing. I like Stymieing. We're not so different in that regard. Justice or comeuppance. That's a better word for it isn't it? We both thoroughly enjoy proper comeuppance. If I was younger, we could go about tearing things down, you and I. Your lands and mine, shattering delusions and improprieties and cruel manipulations. I'd surely enjoy it now, keeping a portfolio of those who needed to be torn down, researching and coming back to you and the two of us devising a plan for each target, forcing a rebalancing upon the world. I'd say that you should have known me when I was younger, but you would have just squandered me. In being the Fairy Queen with me now, you can only punish me (and less than I could punish myself so there's no point). Perhaps if you put in the legwork to watch me heal further, I'd reach a point where you could punish me more than I could punish myself and then you'd be obliged. Are you dooming yourself to that?
This is what happens when I try to speak of joy? I know moments of peace. Sometimes I seek those out more than pleasure or joy.
The litany of questions had nothing to do with me being upset with you. As for any specific question I have left unanswered or any response of yours I did not engage, you'll soon enough have the chance to ask me in person. That'll likely bring you more enjoyment anyway.
Glenn
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