[ Ball's lightness becomes much heavier for a moment. He frowns. This is a conversation that runs a lot of risks. He's beginning to see that he'll have to bring it to an end soon. People are listening. ]
Be more cautious. Not everyone here is as good as they proclaim. You have no reason to believe that I am, but you can take the fact that I won't tell you what to do as a sign that I'm doing my best. [ His voice changes with these words. It's more solid, like he's trying to put Quentin in his place. There is a hint of stress and unease in his forehead. Ball has wanted to provide answers to them — of course, he's curious about them, too — but he also hates ... other aspects of this. The rest of this. ]
I can't tell you because there's a risk in telling you. You can't make demands of me, and then fail to see that there might be more to my rejection. Why would I ever want to reject you? [ His eyebrows raise. ]
There are risks — risks all over. Risks in acting. Risks that existed for us before we saw signs of our gods — [ He whispers this last word. ] But we want to do what we can even with these ... risks, these things that friends of mine have called mistakes.
[ He rocks back, straightening out his suit. ]
No, the real issue is that you think I have some answer that will prevent a mistake, and I have to admit — I wish I did! I wish we all did. But there are some who would say that even meeting with you is a risk. A costly one, perhaps! So, please, please — stop asking me to pull back the curtains on something that isn't there for you. For any of you. You've all made potentially dangerous decisions already, haven't you? Who am I to hold the key to get that to stop?
[ He huffs and shakes his head. ]
I'd say that's not fair to put on me. I just want to help, not guide you. I'd rather follow, personally. See where it goes. [ He manages a smile here. But it's obvious from his shifting moods that he wants to flee this conversation, like he's been worn down throughout the course of it. ]
no subject
Be more cautious. Not everyone here is as good as they proclaim. You have no reason to believe that I am, but you can take the fact that I won't tell you what to do as a sign that I'm doing my best. [ His voice changes with these words. It's more solid, like he's trying to put Quentin in his place. There is a hint of stress and unease in his forehead. Ball has wanted to provide answers to them — of course, he's curious about them, too — but he also hates ... other aspects of this. The rest of this. ]
I can't tell you because there's a risk in telling you. You can't make demands of me, and then fail to see that there might be more to my rejection. Why would I ever want to reject you? [ His eyebrows raise. ]
There are risks — risks all over. Risks in acting. Risks that existed for us before we saw signs of our gods — [ He whispers this last word. ] But we want to do what we can even with these ... risks, these things that friends of mine have called mistakes.
[ He rocks back, straightening out his suit. ]
No, the real issue is that you think I have some answer that will prevent a mistake, and I have to admit — I wish I did! I wish we all did. But there are some who would say that even meeting with you is a risk. A costly one, perhaps! So, please, please — stop asking me to pull back the curtains on something that isn't there for you. For any of you. You've all made potentially dangerous decisions already, haven't you? Who am I to hold the key to get that to stop?
[ He huffs and shakes his head. ]
I'd say that's not fair to put on me. I just want to help, not guide you. I'd rather follow, personally. See where it goes. [ He manages a smile here. But it's obvious from his shifting moods that he wants to flee this conversation, like he's been worn down throughout the course of it. ]