I am sure you know many people who could make that claim. I am hardly impressed.
[ A shake of his head follows and Emet-Selch lets himself gaze out at the morrow. There are many things that might drown his mind in these days gone by, but he does his best not to let himself fall and trip into that ocean. It hurts, truly, of course it does, but it is an ache and pain that he is all too intimately familiar with.
Emet-Selch can make an assumption about why she is here, carrying her own burdens as she does, but he is not to offer anything without her offering first. There is so much more he could do, but only if it is at her request. He is not quite so generous. ]
Why should I rest? I have little I aught to do of late, do I? I should rather enjoy the scenery.
[ Too many, she thinks, discarding the subject to the side. But truly who mourns lost loves more than Emet himself? All pale in comparison his display, to the city that sits beneath the waves in the First. Unbelievably large and sentimental.
Meara follows his gaze to the horizon, the sun burning bright as it begins its slow descent down. ]
For those wrinkles of course. [ Her gaze snaps back to form beside her shifting herself closer. ] Or mayhaps to keep another company? I know someone you see, she has been all but relieved of her duties and commanded to rest. Her fellows have taken to the winds and, with them, taken some of her duties leaving her a simple request: Rest.
[ It comes with a shake of his head, a soft little laugh, but he relents and allows her what she wants. Let her poke fun; he has lived long enough that he has heard it all by now. Little can offend, at least in terms of appearance.
Emet-Selch gazes out forward, feeling his age all of a sudden. ]
And how do you intend to spend your time of rest? It seems unlike your ilk to simply obey.
I have never been good at listening to such requests.
[ She has always been one of the most stubborn of the Scions ─ marching forward when she ought to stop, fighting on when she ought to retreat. A trait that began many years ago in the forests of Gridania and only grew as the years passed both to her benefit and detriment. The fact she is here, beside him, is telling enough that she has no real intention of doing as her friends asked her to do. Even absently she sought him out. ]
In truth, I haven't entirely decided what I want to do. [ Too long has she prioritized the wants and needs of others, only now is she starting to learn how to listen to her own. ] A part of me hoped you might have a suggestion.
Yes, yes, I am well aware of your failings, no need to list them all to me.
[ It's not entirely serious, all things considered, but it is all that he can really do in response. It's not as if he knows how to take care of another person, especially not in a world like this where people barely feel real.
Looking down at her, his brows raise slowly. ]
What makes you think I have anything of worth to suggest?
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no subject
[ A shake of his head follows and Emet-Selch lets himself gaze out at the morrow. There are many things that might drown his mind in these days gone by, but he does his best not to let himself fall and trip into that ocean. It hurts, truly, of course it does, but it is an ache and pain that he is all too intimately familiar with.
Emet-Selch can make an assumption about why she is here, carrying her own burdens as she does, but he is not to offer anything without her offering first. There is so much more he could do, but only if it is at her request. He is not quite so generous. ]
Why should I rest? I have little I aught to do of late, do I? I should rather enjoy the scenery.
no subject
Meara follows his gaze to the horizon, the sun burning bright as it begins its slow descent down. ]
For those wrinkles of course. [ Her gaze snaps back to form beside her shifting herself closer. ] Or mayhaps to keep another company? I know someone you see, she has been all but relieved of her duties and commanded to rest. Her fellows have taken to the winds and, with them, taken some of her duties leaving her a simple request: Rest.
no subject
[ It comes with a shake of his head, a soft little laugh, but he relents and allows her what she wants. Let her poke fun; he has lived long enough that he has heard it all by now. Little can offend, at least in terms of appearance.
Emet-Selch gazes out forward, feeling his age all of a sudden. ]
And how do you intend to spend your time of rest? It seems unlike your ilk to simply obey.
no subject
[ She has always been one of the most stubborn of the Scions ─ marching forward when she ought to stop, fighting on when she ought to retreat. A trait that began many years ago in the forests of Gridania and only grew as the years passed both to her benefit and detriment. The fact she is here, beside him, is telling enough that she has no real intention of doing as her friends asked her to do. Even absently she sought him out. ]
In truth, I haven't entirely decided what I want to do. [ Too long has she prioritized the wants and needs of others, only now is she starting to learn how to listen to her own. ] A part of me hoped you might have a suggestion.
no subject
[ It's not entirely serious, all things considered, but it is all that he can really do in response. It's not as if he knows how to take care of another person, especially not in a world like this where people barely feel real.
Looking down at her, his brows raise slowly. ]
What makes you think I have anything of worth to suggest?