[ Gen ignores the suggestion that he make himself comfortable, not even deigning to give the offered seat a sideways glance. Remaining standing right where he is, shoulders squared and jaw clenched, he only glowers at Bondrewd in silence for a long moment. Which serves as enough of an answer on his own.
Bondrewd is right, for the most part. He has no good rebuke to give.
It's true that a weaponized injection of Discord really would make the fight for the Oracle's favor easy -- what resistance would Meridian be able to put up if they were all busy losing their minds to Discord, or distracted trying to deal with their uncontrollable allies? Or stressed from putting them out of their misery? ]
... it's not like that's gonna be easy. Forcing our Discord into them. [ So he says, but Gen's gaze is cast off to the side as he wracks his brains, trying to think of a better retort. -- Bondrewd must be the one who made Link like that in the first place, right? How easy had that been for him? This line of questioning probably won't accomplish anything. Though he isn't aware of it, Gen's canine ears slowly cant backwards as discomfort boils in his gut. ] And you say this shit like it's going to be easy -- stopping them from getting Discord.
[ It's telling, though, that Gen's words falter even as he tries to grit out that rebuke. And how can he help it? What Bondrewd says something reasonable. Weaponizing Discord against the Meridians would make for easier victories in the upcoming battles and ensue Zenith wins this war. And if Meridians -- his Meridians, the ones he cares about, because he couldn't give half a shit about the others -- could be immunized against an influx of Discord, then wouldn't that be ideal? That would keep them safe, right? He can't find any holes in what Bondrewd is saying.
Gen bites his lip, hard, before abruptly jerking forth a half-step, bootsole stomping loudly against the floor as he closes the distance between them by that small amount. Still trying to establish his position and retain some level of control over this situation, even when he knows he doesn't have much ground to stand. ]
-- you better not be thinking of some bullshit like just putting'em in a coma so they can't get stressed. [ He's seen how Bondrewd treats his guinea pigs. Gen is hardly a softie for some random rodents, but he's also not immune to the gut-churning thought of them being brutalized in the name of science. ] You said you're looking for a way to keep'em safe. I'm only cooperating with you so long as you remember that.
[ He asks of Gen, curious and interested in the young man's perspective.
Discord, to some, is karma. To others, it is the schism between needs and wants, choices for themselves that might betray the innate values of the Faction energies that empower and overwrite such things. Bondrewd does take a seat, in a way — leaning himself along the line of the wall with a tilt to his head that places the full of his attention upon Gen's person. He sounds angry, but not in a way that suggests pure hostility. It is why Bondrewd is able to reach out when Gen drives forward and closes the distance.
Why he can rest a heavy hand upon the young man's shoulder, distantly companionable. Understanding, even though he clearly lacks empathy of any kind — a known quality to many, by now. Once he has listened to Gen, he speaks again. ]
Meridian-aligned Shard-bearers will have difficulty coping with the loss of their world, and the creation of ours. They will take it personally, so it is our responsibility to ease their transition. We can do so in many ways. Transforming their forms to harmless ones, drugging them to make them compliant, placing them in a dreaming state to induce comfort and give them the time they need... anything to slowly introduce them to the way of things. We have powers, as well. Illusions and such.
[ Putting them in a coma is one of those options. ]
I believe they can be made to accept our victory, if we care for them. Perhaps letting them know that they can depend on us to forgive them is the first step to easing their turmoil?
[ Truth is -- he has no fucking clue what Discord is. Not that any of them have a definitive answer (to his knowledge), but Gen also doesn't bother thinking about that sort of ... magic bullshit. It's none of his business, he knows he's more of a musclehead than a scholar, and he only understands all the supernatural nonsense he has to interact with on the most surface level; someone like him's not meant to understand any of this shit.
But now, he tries, and the way he struggles to wrap his head around the matter well enough to put up a good argument.
This ... feels too neat, after all. The way Bondrewd puts it, it all feels too neat and clean. Just let them sleep through the whole transition phase, and then slowly wake them up and they'll be able to adjust? Discomfort boils in his gut because he knows this all sounds too idealistic for a man like Bondrewd to execute without some sort of caveat, but ...
He'd been so immersed in thought that he'd barely even felt the hand coming to clasp at his shoulder. Gen glances at it with a start when he realizes it's there, frowning but deciding to ignore it for the moment; he's having a hard enough time just focusing on what Bondrewd is saying without wasting energy on addressing what he's doing. ]
They gotta be able to go back to how they were. Exactly. [ Maybe it's stupid, but he ultimately goes along with what Bondrewd is saying. He's used to accepting shit deals in hopes that they work out, after all; he rarely has better options available. All he can do is grit out these paltry demands, trying to wrestle away some control of the situation. ] If you're just gonna stick'em in a permanent coma 'cause that's how they won't get Discord, then they might as well be dead. And --
[ A nervous pause. A hard exhale. Then, spat out in one go: ]
And I want proof. I wanna know they're not gonna be put through hell, and that they're gonna be fine afterwards.
[ He's not planning on sticking around long after a Zenith victory, after all; like hell he's going to wait around for people to slowly wake up and acclimate, or whatever. He wants proof now, so he can exit the scene as soon as possible. ]
I'll keep helping you as long as you can gimme that.
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no subject
Bondrewd is right, for the most part. He has no good rebuke to give.
It's true that a weaponized injection of Discord really would make the fight for the Oracle's favor easy -- what resistance would Meridian be able to put up if they were all busy losing their minds to Discord, or distracted trying to deal with their uncontrollable allies? Or stressed from putting them out of their misery? ]
... it's not like that's gonna be easy. Forcing our Discord into them. [ So he says, but Gen's gaze is cast off to the side as he wracks his brains, trying to think of a better retort. -- Bondrewd must be the one who made Link like that in the first place, right? How easy had that been for him? This line of questioning probably won't accomplish anything. Though he isn't aware of it, Gen's canine ears slowly cant backwards as discomfort boils in his gut. ] And you say this shit like it's going to be easy -- stopping them from getting Discord.
[ It's telling, though, that Gen's words falter even as he tries to grit out that rebuke. And how can he help it? What Bondrewd says something reasonable. Weaponizing Discord against the Meridians would make for easier victories in the upcoming battles and ensue Zenith wins this war. And if Meridians -- his Meridians, the ones he cares about, because he couldn't give half a shit about the others -- could be immunized against an influx of Discord, then wouldn't that be ideal? That would keep them safe, right? He can't find any holes in what Bondrewd is saying.
Gen bites his lip, hard, before abruptly jerking forth a half-step, bootsole stomping loudly against the floor as he closes the distance between them by that small amount. Still trying to establish his position and retain some level of control over this situation, even when he knows he doesn't have much ground to stand. ]
-- you better not be thinking of some bullshit like just putting'em in a coma so they can't get stressed. [ He's seen how Bondrewd treats his guinea pigs. Gen is hardly a softie for some random rodents, but he's also not immune to the gut-churning thought of them being brutalized in the name of science. ] You said you're looking for a way to keep'em safe. I'm only cooperating with you so long as you remember that.
no subject
[ He asks of Gen, curious and interested in the young man's perspective.
Discord, to some, is karma. To others, it is the schism between needs and wants, choices for themselves that might betray the innate values of the Faction energies that empower and overwrite such things. Bondrewd does take a seat, in a way — leaning himself along the line of the wall with a tilt to his head that places the full of his attention upon Gen's person. He sounds angry, but not in a way that suggests pure hostility. It is why Bondrewd is able to reach out when Gen drives forward and closes the distance.
Why he can rest a heavy hand upon the young man's shoulder, distantly companionable. Understanding, even though he clearly lacks empathy of any kind — a known quality to many, by now. Once he has listened to Gen, he speaks again. ]
Meridian-aligned Shard-bearers will have difficulty coping with the loss of their world, and the creation of ours. They will take it personally, so it is our responsibility to ease their transition. We can do so in many ways. Transforming their forms to harmless ones, drugging them to make them compliant, placing them in a dreaming state to induce comfort and give them the time they need... anything to slowly introduce them to the way of things. We have powers, as well. Illusions and such.
[ Putting them in a coma is one of those options. ]
I believe they can be made to accept our victory, if we care for them. Perhaps letting them know that they can depend on us to forgive them is the first step to easing their turmoil?
no subject
But now, he tries, and the way he struggles to wrap his head around the matter well enough to put up a good argument.
This ... feels too neat, after all. The way Bondrewd puts it, it all feels too neat and clean. Just let them sleep through the whole transition phase, and then slowly wake them up and they'll be able to adjust? Discomfort boils in his gut because he knows this all sounds too idealistic for a man like Bondrewd to execute without some sort of caveat, but ...
He'd been so immersed in thought that he'd barely even felt the hand coming to clasp at his shoulder. Gen glances at it with a start when he realizes it's there, frowning but deciding to ignore it for the moment; he's having a hard enough time just focusing on what Bondrewd is saying without wasting energy on addressing what he's doing. ]
They gotta be able to go back to how they were. Exactly. [ Maybe it's stupid, but he ultimately goes along with what Bondrewd is saying. He's used to accepting shit deals in hopes that they work out, after all; he rarely has better options available. All he can do is grit out these paltry demands, trying to wrestle away some control of the situation. ] If you're just gonna stick'em in a permanent coma 'cause that's how they won't get Discord, then they might as well be dead. And --
[ A nervous pause. A hard exhale. Then, spat out in one go: ]
And I want proof. I wanna know they're not gonna be put through hell, and that they're gonna be fine afterwards.
[ He's not planning on sticking around long after a Zenith victory, after all; like hell he's going to wait around for people to slowly wake up and acclimate, or whatever. He wants proof now, so he can exit the scene as soon as possible. ]
I'll keep helping you as long as you can gimme that.