[ Emet-Selch's hand withdraws, staring at Viktor intently. Neither of them are particularly eager to see him slide Solus back on, an ill-fitting suit especially now, but as always, any mention of Solus as anything other than what was necessary rankles him. He was not kind.
Maybe to the Unsundered he could be if the situation called for it, but he'd had little to no respect for the partial-Ascians, those they raised up who only knew whatever they told them, who listened to what could have been lies and they never would have known if they were telling the truth or not. It hadn't mattered; they simply wanted to belong, wanted a glorious purpose offered to them, with powers to match. ]
I know what must be done, I know what you would prefer I do.
[ A pause, gentling incrementally as he pours himself a glass of tea just as the fizzle of magic tickles, and then Azem's mask sits upon the desk. He doesn't know what to do with the flood of genuine irritation, of anger that spikes. Logically he can assign most of it to being groggy, cranky, on edge; no small amount of it assigned to dreading what a worst-case scenario would look like when they need all the allies they can get. The blatant (or at least seeming) attempt at manipulation when he was already bringing this to Viktor stings. ]
That is, perhaps, the ideal. I would prefer to discuss the realism of what may come. [ A pause, a lingering look over the rim of his teacup. ] I would not ask for you to remove them if needs be. I am perfectly capable.
no subject
[ Emet-Selch's hand withdraws, staring at Viktor intently. Neither of them are particularly eager to see him slide Solus back on, an ill-fitting suit especially now, but as always, any mention of Solus as anything other than what was necessary rankles him. He was not kind.
Maybe to the Unsundered he could be if the situation called for it, but he'd had little to no respect for the partial-Ascians, those they raised up who only knew whatever they told them, who listened to what could have been lies and they never would have known if they were telling the truth or not. It hadn't mattered; they simply wanted to belong, wanted a glorious purpose offered to them, with powers to match. ]
I know what must be done, I know what you would prefer I do.
[ A pause, gentling incrementally as he pours himself a glass of tea just as the fizzle of magic tickles, and then Azem's mask sits upon the desk. He doesn't know what to do with the flood of genuine irritation, of anger that spikes. Logically he can assign most of it to being groggy, cranky, on edge; no small amount of it assigned to dreading what a worst-case scenario would look like when they need all the allies they can get. The blatant (or at least seeming) attempt at manipulation when he was already bringing this to Viktor stings. ]
That is, perhaps, the ideal. I would prefer to discuss the realism of what may come. [ A pause, a lingering look over the rim of his teacup. ] I would not ask for you to remove them if needs be. I am perfectly capable.