Aid? You think to offer aid to a country and its people that you see as your enemy? Quite curious, that.
[ No matter, no matter. Emet-Selch just looks amused at it all. Does this hero truly think that the purpose of bringing him here was task-oriented? Because he needs the boy to do something for him? For the empire. ]
Though if it is a task you seek...
[ And now Hades is just going to rub the situation in a little. He offers his arm for the other to take. See? This old man can be civil. Pleasant even!
Oh if only this hero truly knew the depths of this mage's soul. How tattered and broken it is. Exhausted with no hope of ever actually finding rest. ]
[Ze stares at the proffered arm, brow furrowed at the near imperceptible tint of mockery to stranger's response.
Perhaps, perceived as such, his words are merely that- a naïve insult born of a savage's understanding of things. (The Twelve know his tutors have implied as much, even if plenty of them had used politer wording.) And though he thinks to correct the man for a moment- that the offer had been for him and no other- something gives him cause to hesitate. To consider.]
They'll be my people soon enough. [He remarks, finding a humbling truth in that. If tomorrow holds any amount of sincerity- if there is neither bullet nor blade cast upon his person- he will be tied to Garlean society forevermore. A bond forged, no matter how foolish or token. And while he's not a care for the politics nor the pretense, the same could be said of any place he has visited. So really, what makes Garlemald- beyond a bloodied history- all that different?
And so, in faith and foolishness, he offers his own in turn- taking up Emet's arm in what he supposes might be a gallant hold. His tutor's lessons didn't all quite stick.] ...the offer was a personal one, by the by.
[Well, perhaps a little less magnanimous than intended.]
[ As if he cares for what is seen as proper and what isn't at the current moment. If Hades really minds at all, then he shouldn't be out here. He shouldn't be following after this fractured creature to get a better glimpse of it. Yet he is always prepared to play his role. Do what he believes to be right by his people and shoulder the burdens they are not able to...
If that means tying himself to this Miqo'te that seems to be somewhat sincere in his words, the so be it. Becoming this thing's enemy outright hadn't worked out well for anyone. Perhaps there is yet the means to turn this around in their favor after all.
It is something to think about, especially considering that the offer? Ze says it is a personal one. ]
The aid that I seek is not something that can easily be offered. [ Stated with something heavy in his voice. ] T'would be better for you to focus on your own goals and ambitions.
[His own goals and ambitions? The only one he can think of...]
I've none. [Perhaps he ought to think better of admitting that so freely. Ought to pretend he has greater schemes and ideals then that which is before him, rather than to be guessed at as a fool and simpleton... but, well, the hidden subtleties of politics have never been his forte, nor does he have the patience for such an inane game. That, and he has no doubt the Garleans will think so little of him regardless.
So he admits that, to this man he barely knows. That he is a fool with only a simple, tentative wish so dear that can no longer be granted. To see a distant horizon, walk upon unfamiliar shores and feel a breeze rife with scents unknown. To... He exhales, soft. He had just thought himself free of the melancholy this place had kept him mired in. Seemingly, it is back with a vengeance and prepared to cling to the recesses of his mind until he has firmly excised them. A task easier said then done, evidently, given its reoccurrence. He does not look forward to that.]
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no subject
[ No matter, no matter. Emet-Selch just looks amused at it all. Does this hero truly think that the purpose of bringing him here was task-oriented? Because he needs the boy to do something for him? For the empire. ]
Though if it is a task you seek...
[ And now Hades is just going to rub the situation in a little. He offers his arm for the other to take. See? This old man can be civil. Pleasant even!
Oh if only this hero truly knew the depths of this mage's soul. How tattered and broken it is. Exhausted with no hope of ever actually finding rest. ]
An escort.
no subject
Perhaps, perceived as such, his words are merely that- a naïve insult born of a savage's understanding of things. (The Twelve know his tutors have implied as much, even if plenty of them had used politer wording.) And though he thinks to correct the man for a moment- that the offer had been for him and no other- something gives him cause to hesitate. To consider.]
They'll be my people soon enough. [He remarks, finding a humbling truth in that. If tomorrow holds any amount of sincerity- if there is neither bullet nor blade cast upon his person- he will be tied to Garlean society forevermore. A bond forged, no matter how foolish or token. And while he's not a care for the politics nor the pretense, the same could be said of any place he has visited. So really, what makes Garlemald- beyond a bloodied history- all that different?
And so, in faith and foolishness, he offers his own in turn- taking up Emet's arm in what he supposes might be a gallant hold. His tutor's lessons didn't all quite stick.] ...the offer was a personal one, by the by.
[Well, perhaps a little less magnanimous than intended.]
no subject
If that means tying himself to this Miqo'te that seems to be somewhat sincere in his words, the so be it. Becoming this thing's enemy outright hadn't worked out well for anyone. Perhaps there is yet the means to turn this around in their favor after all.
It is something to think about, especially considering that the offer? Ze says it is a personal one. ]
The aid that I seek is not something that can easily be offered. [ Stated with something heavy in his voice. ] T'would be better for you to focus on your own goals and ambitions.
no subject
I've none. [Perhaps he ought to think better of admitting that so freely. Ought to pretend he has greater schemes and ideals then that which is before him, rather than to be guessed at as a fool and simpleton... but, well, the hidden subtleties of politics have never been his forte, nor does he have the patience for such an inane game. That, and he has no doubt the Garleans will think so little of him regardless.
So he admits that, to this man he barely knows. That he is a fool with only a simple, tentative wish so dear that can no longer be granted. To see a distant horizon, walk upon unfamiliar shores and feel a breeze rife with scents unknown. To... He exhales, soft. He had just thought himself free of the melancholy this place had kept him mired in. Seemingly, it is back with a vengeance and prepared to cling to the recesses of his mind until he has firmly excised them. A task easier said then done, evidently, given its reoccurrence. He does not look forward to that.]
So, try me. I enjoy a challenge.