ohmyarceus | March - April Test Drive Meme

[Foiled by manners, smh!!

Ironic, considering you've spent the better part of two decades doing nothing but killing magical lizards. Look, empires don't build themselves, and rejoinings don't happen through wishful thinking!]

Indeed, common ground is far more common than one might realize. [Though, he hesitates to seek true commonality with someone like Estinien. Sure, he can't see his soul right now, and thus can't fully gleam the details about him he might otherwise, but it didn't matter. He's certain even if he were a sundered Amaurotine fragment, he'd be just as stubborn as the Warrior of Light was.

That was just how mortals were. Stubborn, foolish, frail...

With a final sort of pat to the small fox's head, Emet-Selch finally raises to his feet with the same elegance one might see in their grandfather. Acting the part of the old man his soul certainly was. With a casual stretch, he levels his gaze at Estinien.]

Tell me, Dragoon: are you alone? Your charming pet notwithstanding, of course.

Edited (phone tagging is true suffering) 2020-04-29 05:12 (UTC)

[Look, you've had 10,000+ years to branch out, try new things. You ageless immortal beings and your obsessive compulsions, honestly.

She seems to guess that the attention-giving is more or less over and with a little sniff, trots back over to Estinien. The little traitor.

Answering that question feels a bit foolish. He is alone, as far as he knows, not that it's abnormal for him. But admitting as such to someone who is, he's quite certain, an enemy...

But it's a deception he wouldn't be able to maintain, and is therefore also pointless. He longs for the simplicity of just being pointed at something he can set his lance to. He's not built for subterfuge.]

I take it I am the first Eorzean you've come across.

[He'd have no reason to ask otherwise.]

No one else was with me.

[It's hard to try new things when you are both fueled by past trauma and tempering. There's some measure of free will, but really, does anyone have true free will?

Watching Estinien with a lackadaisical sort of expression, one might not realize Emet was utterly scrutinizing the other man. Trying to catch any possible glimpse or hint that the answer he gives might be a lie. He wouldn't mind if it were, it'd tell him more than the actual answer would.

After all, he didn't actually care if he was alone, he could handle as many Eorzeas as this world decided to saddle him with, but what he wanted to know was how foolish this man might be. How unskillful he might be at pulling the metaphorical wool over someone's eyes. Whether or not he might be worth...cooperating with.

Turns out he's not as much of a fool as he might have guessed. How interesting...]

It's just us, then? Curious...curious indeed.

[He's not sure why it's them out of, well, anyone it could have been.]

Anyroad, shall we properly introduce ourselves? [There seems to be a jolt of energy that sparks through him as he does so, standing up a little straighter, his expression getting a touch brighter, even if its laced in a smarminess that's apparently incurable.] I am Solus zos Galvus, founding father of the Garlean Empire—I wager you've heard of me.

[He could give him his Ascian name, but where's the fun in that? Besides, he'd rather keep the upper hand in this, as much as he can.]

[Look, he gets the past trauma thing, okay...but at some point it just becomes pointless.

Estinien knows his strengths, and they don't lie in deception. He doesn't have the patience for it--his recent stint in Garlemald was the closest he's come, and that was simply keeping ones head down and letting Gaius work with his contacts. That was simple. (Even if being an Elezen in the middle of the empire's capital was itself strange.)]

Fate moves in mysterious ways.

[Ah. That explains the niggling familiarity, the unease, and the fact that this man knows so much about him in one fell swoop. Ascian. He might not know the being's true name, but Varis did drop that little secret about the founding of the Empire, even before he'd gotten strongarmed into joining the cause of the Scions.

Well, if there was ever a time to be alone with an Ascian, it would be when they were both on relatively equal footing.]

I have--though I'm more personally familiar with your descendants.

[Should he say 'sorry for your loss'? Does the man know, or care, that Emperor Varis has been killed? He's just going to...not.]

Estinien Wyrmblood, formerly the Azure Dragoon of Ishgard. As you seem to be aware.

[What? It's not like you've seen everything you love die in a fire or something! Clearly the experiences are not equivalent.

Unfortunately for Emet, he has no idea about Estinien's little stroll with Gaius through Garlemald, nor the bit about Varis' demise. Hell, from his point on the timeline, he's not quite aware of his own impending demise. But as they say, ignorance is bliss and all of that.]

Yes, I am quite aware of you, though none of it personal. [Crossing an arm over his middle, palm resting on the elbow of the other, his free hand raises to cup his chin curiously.] Familiar with my descendants, you say? Taken a trip to Garlemald, have you?

Now then! What business would a wayward wanderer such as yourself have over in the Empire, I must wonder...

[Not that he expects Estinien to actually tell him, but he also wants to make it pretty clear that he's not worried in the slightest. As far as he's concerned, this amped up Dragoon can't do much at all to tip the scales in the same regards as the Warrior of Light could.]

[One word for you: Ferndale.

Also, he's from Ishgard. He's seen a lot of dying in fire in general.

(Something he knows that you don't? Shocking.)]

Mm. That isn't particularly surprising.

[He prefers it that way, people not knowing his history. It's not important for other people to know.]

Cold, snow-covered, and filled with nigh-religious zeal for a figurehead that bare anyone saw. It felt rather like home.

[Not the good parts of it either.]

And wonder you shall.

[Ferndale? Never heard of her!

(Miracles do exist!)]

Then mayhap we are closer to kin than we realized. [~~Maybe that's why Garleans are given the elezen base model!~~]

I shall enjoy puzzling it out, I'm sure. Regardless, that is neither here nor there, and such petty squabbles are likely best left where they are relevant. [Yeah, it's real easy for the genocidal immortal Emperor to suggest bygones being bygones, huh?]

Mayhap we might find ourselves in a mutually beneficial arrangement. After all, I have plenty of experience bringing inferior beasts to heel—without killing them outright. A skill you have far less practice in, I wager.

[You know what, he's okay with that in this situation.

Ew, he doesn't want you in his family tree, creepy grandpa.]

There are certain parallels.

[~~You just wanted to be ridiculous giraffe people.~~ Estinien just waits patiently until Solus is evidently...finished with his short monologue, weighing over the man's words. Tis true, on a world presumably not connected with their own, fighting each other is a pointless use of energy. The Ascian's plan is exactly as stymied as any of their own, so long as they're both here.

Tis not the first time he's set aside animosity for pragmatism.]

Dravanians are dangerous precisely because they are not dumb beasts. You might enjoy a conversation with a few of them.

[Praise Halone that he wasn't around to speak with Nidhogg, even if the great wyrm would probably not differentiate between types of man.]

Though I am not opposed to ceasing hostilities. Tis not like to have much point.

[Oh don't worry, Estinien. He doesn't want you part of his family tree neither. He barely wants the family he's got!]

Oh, worry not, I have had my share of conversations with the dravanians. Just as conquerable as any, though I dare say they take a little more planning and scheming to do so.

But an Ishgardian like yourself would know full well of that, wouldn't you? With the amount of dragon's blood on your hands, well...

[He shrugs, shaking his head.]

'Tis no matter, a conversation that means little here. Though, I must say, I am full glad to see you are a reasonable sort. Surprised, even. Given your more brutish nature.

[Charming.]

[With your family, that's understandable.]

Of course that would be your metric.

[Imperial bastards. Honestly. Estinien just shakes his head--he knows he has dragon blood on his hands, he was fair dripping with it, and it flowed through his veins just as it did all Ishgardians--moreso, even. It was war, and it was over now--though neither side would soon forget.]

Contrary to what you may have heard of me, I do not fling myself headlong into pointless battles.

[At least not recently.]

As you say, it means little here. Neither of us are armed, and any schemes you may have concerning our worlds is as surely stymied as our plans to oppose you. Tis naught but a waste of time to pretend otherwise.

[The only good one died before his time, and the ones that survived were garbage. As is the wont of mortals: frail or foolish, often both.

He gives a half-hearted shrug at that, of course it's not so simple, but he cannot deny that has something to do with his judgment. Inferiority comes in layers, after all.]

Good, I try not to make habit of forming alliances with fools—far too troublesome. I believe the benefits of our mutual cooperation will far exceed the alternative. We might be on opposing sides back in our world, but here we are the same. Interlopers with nary an ally nor commonality between us and the natives—let alone those whom carry our selfsame distinction.

'Twould be a right boon for us both to help each other in this strange world.

[Emet looks him over with an appraising scan, his mouth quirking further upward as he extends his gloved hand out to him. Clearly an invitation to shake it.]

Have we a deal, then?

[One could say that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, but...

Like onions! Or ogres. Both of which things Estinien could conceivably be compared to.

He's starting to regret how much you talk, though. Do you truly like the sound of your own voice so much? By the Fury it's like listening to Aymeric when he's gotten some drink in him, only annoying.

Estinien extends a hand in return, a sure and solid grip, as he shakes on it.]

It would seem that we do.

[Someone has to keep an eye on you after all, lest you get airs and fashion yourself another empire.]

[I can't believe Estinien was Shrek the whole time...

Ironically, Emet is loving how little you talk! Sure, the lack of response can be a little boring, but at the same time there's an air of mystery to Estinien that's been keeping him intrigued, especially with that nugget of information about his trip to Garlemald. Basically, Estinien has put a target on his own back for a bored to death immortal.

His eyebrows raise when he feels the firmness of his grip, returning so in kind. For all his wave might be a little limp wristed, he wasn't about to give a weak handshake. Not to someone like Estinien, whom of which he's fairly certain is a man who values strength like the warrior savage he is.

However, he doesn't hold the shake for too long, and is willing to be the first to draw his hand back. He isn't so petty to do that whole "no you let go first" song and dance. Such brutish dick-measuring doesn't interest him.]

Very well! I suggest you get to training that little beast of yours—I will not suffer a useless ally.

[Look, he didn't choose to be part of Team Rocket, but he can't honestly complain. He's already got a foot in the door to get on with the whole building an empire thing.]

[Antisocial, tends to prefer solitude, stinky...how long was he wearing that blood-covered armor? Too long. He just can't live in a swamp because Coerthas is a frozen wasteland.

He's going to regret that, surely. One day, probably fairly soon, he'll catch sight of you out of the corner of his eye when he's not expecting it and probably leap out of his skin. Possibly at night.]

Of course not.

[Also, there doesn't seem to be much else to do here, and Estinien can't just do nothing. He'd get twitchy.]

I would ask you to try to stay out of trouble, but Fury knows you'd only do your plotting out of my sight. Try not to let me hear about it.

[Time to watch all the cutscenes of Heavensward with the music off and blasting nothing but All Star the whole time.

Making a deal with an Ascian is basically like making a deal with the devil, in fact, I'm pretty sure that's the literal equivalent. Just like you wouldn't want the devil taking an interest in you! The only thing that is going to save Estinien is the fact Emet can't teleport anywhere he pleases. No awkward invasion of private rooms.

Well, at least not through Ascian means.]

Oh? Happy to keep me in line, are you? Rest assured, I have no plans to bring about this world's end—seeing as it would serve no greater purpose, we Ascians scheme and conspire, but not merely for the sake of it.

Nay, if aught at all, I intend to leave this half-formed world.

[He shrugs, waving a hand a little dismissively as he talks.]

Should I be successful, I may even extend such to you. If you prove yourself worthwhile.

[There's even dragons in both, see, functionally the same.

And Estinien knows it--though it probably doesn't help. Even if he wanted to, though, there's nothing he can do to kill an Ascian. So, the next best course of action--keep your enemies where you can see them.]

What are your standards for fully-formed, one wonders?

[Estinien didn't get any of your lore dumps from the First, so he has no idea.]

How magnanimous of you.

[He's just taking that as you don't think he can mess with your plans. That's okay. Better for him to actually do so when you're underestimating him.]

[God, you're right...

How heroic that Estinien would willingly keep this slimy villain under his watchful gaze. At least they're on equal footing here, and while they're both unkillable, at least Emet's not unstrangleable!

The question clearly piques Emet's attention, if the upward tick of his eyebrows were to indicate aught at all.]

Sarcasm aside, I can indeed be rather magnanimous, were one to give me the chance. A fact you may yet find holds to the proof, ere long. However...we are but new compatriots, are we not? 'Twould be folly to answer your question without getting aught in return.

After all, you were so rudely disinclined to share with me your knowledge.

[He might be a trash gremlin who likes to lurk on roofs, but he's trying to have a motivation beyond either revenge or cleaning up Nidhogg's remaining mess. And as you so succinctly pointed out, he's killed enough dragons to be something of a political liability, so he's done about all he can for the latter.

Following the example of some more heroic types he knows will do for now.]

Would you rather be told, or have the satisfaction of puzzling it out for yourself?

[He crosses his arms and idly drums his fingers on his bicep.]

I am but a brutish savage, rudeness should be expected.

Oh, and it is indeed.

[Emet-Selch confirms all too quickly, with that drawn out nasally tone of his. But what a question, what a choice! He could get the information he wants quickly, or try to piece it together himself for the fun of it.

Thoughtfully, Emet taps his chin with a finger.]

I do suppose there is some meager satisfaction in figuring it out, yes. Then I suppose you can barter for my knowledge another way—I am a variable wealth of it, after all. Any concession will utterly be worth your while.

[Boy it's a good thing Estinien isn't particularly fussed by what you think of him or he might get offended.

Ergh, a contest of wits with a bored millenia-old conquering bastard who lives to sow chaos. What life choices brought him here?]

A question for a question. Neither of us can ask exactly what the other was doing.

[Would that be tantalizing enough for this demon? He's not sure. It's not like he knows many Ishgardian state secrets worth mentioning, or aught about the inner workings of the Scions that no one else does.]

[Honestly, it's for the best. There's no impressing Emet, well, that is unless you're the Warrior of Light, apparently.]

Sounds reasonable.

[Lowering his hand from his chin, he lets his arms settle into a proper cross over his chest, a slight tilt of his head.]

I'll even go first: my standards of a world fully formed is when one encompasses the likeness to that of our own when it wasn't the fragmented disaster it is now.

[Purposefully leaving that vague.]

Now, then...who was in your company when you made your trip to Garlemald?

[He might be able to surmise the goal if he knows his companions at the time. If he had any at all, that is.]

[And even that didn't last.]

Hm.

[The world is certainly a mess, but as far as he's aware it's the Calamity that made it so, and that certainly hasn't been long enough to be what he means. He files that away for later.

There's a few ways he can answer that question. He was alone for the first part of the trip, but hadn't been truly bound for Garlemald until he and Gaius's paths had crossed. The other man had styled himself as Shadowhunter, another name he could give. But in the end, Estinien decides to just use his true name.]

Gaius Baelsar.

[And others, but you wouldn't know their names.]

How are you to know that this world isn't whole?

[Whatever that means.]

Edited 2020-04-30 03:49 (UTC)

[As Alisaie said, he's got some lofty standards!]

Gaius?

[That surprises him, though maybe it shouldn't. After all, he knew he wasn't dead (he didn't sense his soul enter the lifestream, after all), and there had been quite a number done to their, well, numbers. Emet narrows his eyes appraisingly at Estinien, perhaps trying to discern whether or not Estinien's lying. It adds up, except for the fact he would not assume a man as proud in his Garlean heritage as Gaius to partner up with an Ishgardian renegade.]

Hmm... How very interesting.

[His expression resumes its casual nonchalance after that thoughtful moment, moving on to the question.]

A world whole would not be this wanting in development—though I admit it is far more advanced than what someone of your ilk might be familiar. However, I am one who has known our star in its true and complete state, and while I highly doubt this world has suffered what ours has, 'tis far from the perfection I know.

[Which is why he won't even consider the idea that it's a fully formed world. Merely some underdeveloped and pathetic afterthought of a star, nothing more.]

Why would Gaius van Baelsar suffer your company?

Edited 2020-04-30 04:11 (UTC)

Just so.

[His expression is fairly neutral, but he's not lying. It had been a surprise for Estinien too, you can be assured. Not necessarily an unwelcome one, he did have some respect for the man despite his insistence on believing that the nations they conquered were better off for it.]

And what, pray tell, did our star suffer?

[Aside from all the calamities you see fit to inflict upon it.]

Our goals were aligned with one another. Thus it was decided that we each would be best served by cooperation. I had a guide through your lands, he had use of my skill in combat.

[It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. And Gaius is not nearly as prone to subterfuge as you are.]

[Emet's quiet for once, letting Estinien's answer and his question linger for a moment as he contemplates answering him. Sure, this is the metric of the game they're playing, a question for a question, an answer for an answer, he cannot say he knows for sure this man is worthy of knowing the burden of truth. He had shared such knowledge freely with the Scions, but that was for a greater purpose, one Estinien was not a part of. At least, not back on the First.

After a long moment of deliberating, he finally settles:]

The sundering—though the privilege of knowing further details will require much more than you answering myriad questions. 'Tis a burden for those worthy, and I have yet to take your measure.

[His expression darkens slightly as his grin widens. Thinking on the pieces that have been laid before him, the connection that Estinien has with the Source's dear sweet hero, and why he and Gaius' goals would align...]

You were after Black Rose, weren't you? [He cannot help himself, getting into his typical theatrics. Arms unfolding as he gestures widely as he speaks, before finally ending with his finger pointed straight at Estinien's chest.]

Oooh, how truly, deeply touching! Playing hero for the hero! Braving unknown and hostile territories, taking on an unlikely alliance with a former enemy, all for the sake of mankind's savior! How right I was about that warmth inside your breast.

[Letting out a dramatic, contented sigh:] Such camaraderie and devotion could fair bring a tear to the eye!

They don't have a complete enough brain to have a proper opinion! It's fine, it's cool.

See comments like that are why people don't like you. Aside from the mass murder.

Can't win them all, so you just gotta win the ones that matter!

Well, you are playing the longest game.

It's a good thing I'm immortal then! Oh wait...

rip. /presses f to pay respects

😔

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