I can't fault the logic. [ The amusement is obvious, even without the emotionshare, but he's fairly calm about everything. No offense, no perceived slight. Hua Cheng brings his cup up to take a drink, before returning it to its place as the Gambler's Den. ] If the gods don't walk among you, whether their identities are revealed or not, and ghosts don't truly haunt you... why believe in them? A monster doesn't have to be fantastic to be a monster.
[ And even if it's casual, could be an insult, Claude has done the same thing - he's interesting. He's got a familiar spark to his gaze, one that belongs to someone always watching, always assessing, always filing away information. So he gives him information, without giving him anything deeper. ]
But I can't say you're missing out much, if there are no real gods where you come from. Most are useless, and manpower and politics are more beneficial to you than their supposed divinity. They're no different than the petty, egotistical mortals that make up nobility.
[ Slowly, he sits back, tapping the rim of the tea cup with a finger. ]
Ghosts carry resentful energy. Even those with the best intentions do - it's simply because the dead carry different energy from the living, especially if they remain in the world, rather than returning to the cycle. Some succumb to the energy, and embrace something more chaotic. Many of my residents are the sort you would find in a back alley, in the oft ignored corners of your most illustrious cities.
I've had any number of mortals and ghosts, even gods, walk into the Gambler's Den. Anything is forfeit, if it's of an equivalent price to your bet. A banker's legs are useless, in exchange for the downfall of a competitor, but an artisan's hands can be bet in exchange for fortune - and if you win the gamble, you walk away with your winnings and your hands. Lose, and perhaps they'll be cut off, perhaps they'll be irreparably crushed.
Regardless, you've lost. Many walk away with their results, but others - crazed and euphoric from victory, frenzied and desperate from loss - keep going.
(And this is a tale that has him quiet, thoughtful, considering the sort of place this Gambler's Den could be. He imagines the dark alleys of Fodlan, the shadows and the abyss tucked away in those busy port cities and those glowing capitals. Places that he, admittedly, isn't very familiar with and hadn't thought much of until fairly recently. )
Sometimes people get so caught up in the hope of something better, they don't think about their present losses.
(He lifts his tea, thinking of, well, people. He thinks of Edelgard, so resolute and willing to make whatever sacrifices she'd need to accomplish her goals. Edelgard who was willing to make her first move regardless of who was in her way. He thinks of Dimitri, eager to a fault and so terribly kind that Claude almost feels sorry for him. Dimitri who who feels for others easily and could be a kind or hurt king some day. And he thinks of himself... The three of them are more alike than they'd ever be comfortable admitting.
What would the three of them do in that sort of this place? Keep playing to make things right. Keep playing to win more and more. Eventually cut their losses or accept whatever gains they might have and leave? It isn't that simple. There are people who would do anything for their dreams...)
... And sometimes people just don't realize how far they're willing to go until it's too late.
(It's a lesson to be learned. Something to keep in mind. And one he's taking the time to appreciate, as someone so young compared to someone incredibly older and more experienced with how a world can be.)
There are people who don't need a Gambler's Den or any special place to try their luck.
[ Something twinkles in Hua Cheng's dark gaze, almost - approving, in its way. Acknowledging. You're thinking, you're learning, as he takes this story of his wild city and lays it all out in front of him. Any number of people like Claude, like his classmates, have come and gone, through the mocking doorway of the Gambler's Den. And any number of them have come out with their heads held high, taking their earnings and victories with them.
But just as many have been dragged out, bloody, in tears, begging to go again, again, again - ]
Immortal or mortal, living or dead, all are fallible in the end. There is no turning back, when you've already committed yourself to putting it all on the line. [ A businessman, willing to put the life of his one and only daughter on the line for the success of his business and the downfall of his competitors. The fastest courier, placing bets with his own legs against the house.
A soldier in an unending war, bloodshed and death and strife at every turn, weapon in hand and life on the line. ] Sometimes all they need is the promise of a chance. It doesn't matter where they're placing their bets, when all they have is their eyes on the prize.
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[ And even if it's casual, could be an insult, Claude has done the same thing - he's interesting. He's got a familiar spark to his gaze, one that belongs to someone always watching, always assessing, always filing away information. So he gives him information, without giving him anything deeper. ]
But I can't say you're missing out much, if there are no real gods where you come from. Most are useless, and manpower and politics are more beneficial to you than their supposed divinity. They're no different than the petty, egotistical mortals that make up nobility.
[ Slowly, he sits back, tapping the rim of the tea cup with a finger. ]
Ghosts carry resentful energy. Even those with the best intentions do - it's simply because the dead carry different energy from the living, especially if they remain in the world, rather than returning to the cycle. Some succumb to the energy, and embrace something more chaotic. Many of my residents are the sort you would find in a back alley, in the oft ignored corners of your most illustrious cities.
I've had any number of mortals and ghosts, even gods, walk into the Gambler's Den. Anything is forfeit, if it's of an equivalent price to your bet. A banker's legs are useless, in exchange for the downfall of a competitor, but an artisan's hands can be bet in exchange for fortune - and if you win the gamble, you walk away with your winnings and your hands. Lose, and perhaps they'll be cut off, perhaps they'll be irreparably crushed.
Regardless, you've lost. Many walk away with their results, but others - crazed and euphoric from victory, frenzied and desperate from loss - keep going.
no subject
Sometimes people get so caught up in the hope of something better, they don't think about their present losses.
(He lifts his tea, thinking of, well, people. He thinks of Edelgard, so resolute and willing to make whatever sacrifices she'd need to accomplish her goals. Edelgard who was willing to make her first move regardless of who was in her way. He thinks of Dimitri, eager to a fault and so terribly kind that Claude almost feels sorry for him. Dimitri who who feels for others easily and could be a kind or hurt king some day. And he thinks of himself... The three of them are more alike than they'd ever be comfortable admitting.
What would the three of them do in that sort of this place? Keep playing to make things right. Keep playing to win more and more. Eventually cut their losses or accept whatever gains they might have and leave? It isn't that simple. There are people who would do anything for their dreams...)
... And sometimes people just don't realize how far they're willing to go until it's too late.
(It's a lesson to be learned. Something to keep in mind. And one he's taking the time to appreciate, as someone so young compared to someone incredibly older and more experienced with how a world can be.)
There are people who don't need a Gambler's Den or any special place to try their luck.
no subject
But just as many have been dragged out, bloody, in tears, begging to go again, again, again - ]
Immortal or mortal, living or dead, all are fallible in the end. There is no turning back, when you've already committed yourself to putting it all on the line. [ A businessman, willing to put the life of his one and only daughter on the line for the success of his business and the downfall of his competitors. The fastest courier, placing bets with his own legs against the house.
A soldier in an unending war, bloodshed and death and strife at every turn, weapon in hand and life on the line. ] Sometimes all they need is the promise of a chance. It doesn't matter where they're placing their bets, when all they have is their eyes on the prize.