[ Emet-Selch would have the princeling dealt with in a quarter bell. No mess, unless he wanted one. It is hardly becoming to find such ruthlessness impressive. And yet, Viktor must hide a smirk behind a sizeable bite of carrot and meat, and then his hand as he chews. Weeds and briars of meeting violence with violence aside, there is something to be said for a man who could casually talk of toppling a regime over dinner and have it done before before bed, but doesn't, because he knows you both have better things to do.
It is probably best that they do have better things to do. Between the two of them, there is little they could not solve, could not change to suit what they both thought best for the star. The realization is somewhat sobering, but the dread it instills is tempered by the fact that such things won't matter if they don't settle the problems bigger than they are, first. Which starts with... toying with magic that neither of them understand entirely. Fantastic.
But, Viktor amends after spearing a potato. Isn't it? Fantastic? Hadn't there been a time before returning night to the First, before the end of the Dragonsong War, before Dalamud fell, when war had been a specter and want was not yet a dirty word and he, just a boy, desperate to understand the hum of everything that rang around him? Viktor's gaze swivels up to settle on Emet-Selch, and the strangest bubble of laughter spills out of him, little more than a hum at first with his cheeks still full of food. How absolutely absurd, that the man who had a hand in orchestrating near every event that would shape a curious child into a weapon, is the one who now coaxes that deeply buried desire back out of him. Who makes Viktor want again - want to learn, to grow beyond what he'd come to believe he was meant to be.
He chews. He swallows. He giggles for a few seconds more. ]
Apologies. Life is- 'tis funny. [ Viktor sits back in his chair, not quite tipping it onto two legs, but nearly. ] Aye. I will have care. Well familiar am I with getting a bit too... tangled up in aether - hopefully one or both of us will be able to stop me doing it again. I would like to see the make of our veil to start, but- 'twould be easiest for me to actually see it, I think. Rather than hear or read the th-theory. Can you... [ He hangs, gestures vaguely in the air. ] Can you lay it out? Perhaps, make a visible approximation o-or charts and diagrams?
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It is probably best that they do have better things to do. Between the two of them, there is little they could not solve, could not change to suit what they both thought best for the star. The realization is somewhat sobering, but the dread it instills is tempered by the fact that such things won't matter if they don't settle the problems bigger than they are, first. Which starts with... toying with magic that neither of them understand entirely. Fantastic.
But, Viktor amends after spearing a potato. Isn't it? Fantastic? Hadn't there been a time before returning night to the First, before the end of the Dragonsong War, before Dalamud fell, when war had been a specter and want was not yet a dirty word and he, just a boy, desperate to understand the hum of everything that rang around him? Viktor's gaze swivels up to settle on Emet-Selch, and the strangest bubble of laughter spills out of him, little more than a hum at first with his cheeks still full of food. How absolutely absurd, that the man who had a hand in orchestrating near every event that would shape a curious child into a weapon, is the one who now coaxes that deeply buried desire back out of him. Who makes Viktor want again - want to learn, to grow beyond what he'd come to believe he was meant to be.
He chews. He swallows. He giggles for a few seconds more. ]
Apologies. Life is- 'tis funny. [ Viktor sits back in his chair, not quite tipping it onto two legs, but nearly. ] Aye. I will have care. Well familiar am I with getting a bit too... tangled up in aether - hopefully one or both of us will be able to stop me doing it again. I would like to see the make of our veil to start, but- 'twould be easiest for me to actually see it, I think. Rather than hear or read the th-theory. Can you... [ He hangs, gestures vaguely in the air. ] Can you lay it out? Perhaps, make a visible approximation o-or charts and diagrams?