01-01-2019, 09:47 PM
[font=trebuchet ms]As Rin observed the bookshelf on the floor and its owner beside it, it occurred to her: in this world, destruction of property was often more severe than the destruction of people.
It seemed counter-intuitive, but she did not mean to imply that inanimate objects were more valuable than living souls. Rather, the containers for those souls were far more replaceable. If you set a book on fire, unless your memory was perfect, you would never be able to replicate that book exactly. If you were crushed by a boulder and killed, no big deal; you could just come back from the dead and possess a new form, and you would still essentially be the exact same person.
The observation that death itself was essentially meaningless was freeing, in a way. The knowledge that any dead person could come back to life if they wanted to made it easier to distance herself from the fact that it happened so often. She was not fate's puppet- she would not be a clueless actress in its demented play. Why shed tears for someone who would most likely be back in a while anyway?
Subconsciously, she had long since decided to stop caring. There was no point. If she could not drive the plot, then she would not follow the stage directions. Aside from healing and protecting people in the very few situations where she could, she had no further obligations.
Not that it mattered. The bookshelf was still intact, the books were intact, and the feline that had rode the shelf down appeared uninjured. "Nice dreamcatcher," Rin remarked, glancing up at the object hanging from the ceiling. "Where'd you get it?"
/spontaneous return to activity and sudden character development all in one, nice
It seemed counter-intuitive, but she did not mean to imply that inanimate objects were more valuable than living souls. Rather, the containers for those souls were far more replaceable. If you set a book on fire, unless your memory was perfect, you would never be able to replicate that book exactly. If you were crushed by a boulder and killed, no big deal; you could just come back from the dead and possess a new form, and you would still essentially be the exact same person.
The observation that death itself was essentially meaningless was freeing, in a way. The knowledge that any dead person could come back to life if they wanted to made it easier to distance herself from the fact that it happened so often. She was not fate's puppet- she would not be a clueless actress in its demented play. Why shed tears for someone who would most likely be back in a while anyway?
Subconsciously, she had long since decided to stop caring. There was no point. If she could not drive the plot, then she would not follow the stage directions. Aside from healing and protecting people in the very few situations where she could, she had no further obligations.
Not that it mattered. The bookshelf was still intact, the books were intact, and the feline that had rode the shelf down appeared uninjured. "Nice dreamcatcher," Rin remarked, glancing up at the object hanging from the ceiling. "Where'd you get it?"
/spontaneous return to activity and sudden character development all in one, nice
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