Clearly those final words are meant to be some kind of insult, but without the proper context Tyler can't take offense. (It'd almost be funny, actually, if he weren't half-nauseous from fury. He's... pretty sure it's fury.)
There is a fundamental difference between a society rediscovering old technologies for themselves and learning how to adapt and recreate them, and you just handing them things on a silver platter with no instructions, he shoots back. So I'm inclined to say yes, actually, your specific form of aid to them was well-intended but unnecessary at best, and needlessly cruel at worst. And you've straight-up confessed that you don't fully understand the limitations of mortals, so it's not so surprising now that you keep committing the same mistakes against them - you couldn't possibly understand the scale we live on, and frankly that's terrifying. Humans-- mortals have a very intense grasp of their own mortality and the scope of things we can achieve therein despite what you might think - we're perfectly capable of building empires, ones that are fair and just, that can last for millennia.
His expression darkens, resentful anger burning behind his dark eyes. But then you come swanning in, toying with their lives, jeopardising their futures - playing with them. Your feelings might have been genuine then, but that's all that ever was, it's all just some big cosmic game that you want to be let in on because you're so perfect that you think if you could just get them to understand you then they would be too, but that's not how we work. People need to live and learn and make their own mistakes because that's how mortals learn. We don't get a thousand years to watch our fuck-ups play out, most of us barely get eighty just to try and impart the lessons on our future generations.
It's a low, shallow, spiteful blow. But he's furious now, the sickening twisting of his stomach is making him nearly light-headed, his hands close to shaking from the exertion of trying to hold it in. So he doesn't stop himself from continuing.
If I sound like their mother, at least it means I actually care about them.
no subject
There is a fundamental difference between a society rediscovering old technologies for themselves and learning how to adapt and recreate them, and you just handing them things on a silver platter with no instructions, he shoots back. So I'm inclined to say yes, actually, your specific form of aid to them was well-intended but unnecessary at best, and needlessly cruel at worst. And you've straight-up confessed that you don't fully understand the limitations of mortals, so it's not so surprising now that you keep committing the same mistakes against them - you couldn't possibly understand the scale we live on, and frankly that's terrifying. Humans-- mortals have a very intense grasp of their own mortality and the scope of things we can achieve therein despite what you might think - we're perfectly capable of building empires, ones that are fair and just, that can last for millennia.
His expression darkens, resentful anger burning behind his dark eyes. But then you come swanning in, toying with their lives, jeopardising their futures - playing with them. Your feelings might have been genuine then, but that's all that ever was, it's all just some big cosmic game that you want to be let in on because you're so perfect that you think if you could just get them to understand you then they would be too, but that's not how we work. People need to live and learn and make their own mistakes because that's how mortals learn. We don't get a thousand years to watch our fuck-ups play out, most of us barely get eighty just to try and impart the lessons on our future generations.
It's a low, shallow, spiteful blow. But he's furious now, the sickening twisting of his stomach is making him nearly light-headed, his hands close to shaking from the exertion of trying to hold it in. So he doesn't stop himself from continuing.
If I sound like their mother, at least it means I actually care about them.