[ He half-hopes that Viktor will have the sense to tell him that no, this is an insane idea. If they're going to be doing role reversals tonight, that is one he would not mind seeing, Viktor being the more cautious party to Emet-Selch's impulsive offer. Of course, no such luck; they are going to be foolish and impulsive together, it seems. ]
Ha. The flattery is noted, but not needed. [ There is no humor to the dry little ha that escapes from him, but it is without an onze of bitterness or mockery. Typically, when someone utterly incapable of magic on the same scale makes an insinuation that Emet-Selch can or cannot manage a piece of spellwork, he barely notices, their opinion barely worth listening to let alone cataloging and considering. Viktor is, as always, the exception. More than that, while Emet-Selch does not think he would be able to build an entire city as a recreation, to manage the building blocks themselves - the buildings, the component materials - Emet-Selch thinks Viktor very well could with minimal fuss. It stands to reason there would be others on the Source who were capable of the same, were there a teacher for them. The thought sits heavy in his stomach, not quite dreadful, not quite exciting, but an uncertain, unceremonious mix of both. ]
I would prefer a night or two to prepare. I am...relatively certain I can adjust the spellwork as we need, but would feel better about the process were I to have sufficient time to plan for - [ For what generally seems to happen to the best laid plans when they involve both of them - something going awry. ] - contingencies.
[ Viktor's reassurance are kind, but unnecessary. There is precious little that lurks within Emet-Selch's mind that he would not care for Viktor to be privy to. His past actions are laid out in lurid detail in countless books and hushed stories, and while they missed some detail, most were accurate enough. Why he is so reticent to perform this, even he isn't certain of. The fear is not that Viktor will look in the tangled mess of his head and find something so abhorrent he leaves; he's too practical, too focused on the world to let that stop him even if he did find something too hideous to consider.
The issue, Emet-Selch thinks, gingerly reaching across the table to draw fingers along Viktor's palm, tracing the lines of his hand like leylines in a bit of spellwork, the issue is simple closeness. Letting someone in, when he has spent thousands of years layering countless protective shells between him and the fragmented mess of the world. He doesn't know if he even recalls how to. ]
You will not...dig. If we were to. There will be precise boundaries set into place, and I expect nary a toe to so much as ilm toward those boundaries. For your sake and mine.
no subject
Ha. The flattery is noted, but not needed. [ There is no humor to the dry little ha that escapes from him, but it is without an onze of bitterness or mockery. Typically, when someone utterly incapable of magic on the same scale makes an insinuation that Emet-Selch can or cannot manage a piece of spellwork, he barely notices, their opinion barely worth listening to let alone cataloging and considering. Viktor is, as always, the exception. More than that, while Emet-Selch does not think he would be able to build an entire city as a recreation, to manage the building blocks themselves - the buildings, the component materials - Emet-Selch thinks Viktor very well could with minimal fuss. It stands to reason there would be others on the Source who were capable of the same, were there a teacher for them. The thought sits heavy in his stomach, not quite dreadful, not quite exciting, but an uncertain, unceremonious mix of both. ]
I would prefer a night or two to prepare. I am...relatively certain I can adjust the spellwork as we need, but would feel better about the process were I to have sufficient time to plan for - [ For what generally seems to happen to the best laid plans when they involve both of them - something going awry. ] - contingencies.
[ Viktor's reassurance are kind, but unnecessary. There is precious little that lurks within Emet-Selch's mind that he would not care for Viktor to be privy to. His past actions are laid out in lurid detail in countless books and hushed stories, and while they missed some detail, most were accurate enough. Why he is so reticent to perform this, even he isn't certain of. The fear is not that Viktor will look in the tangled mess of his head and find something so abhorrent he leaves; he's too practical, too focused on the world to let that stop him even if he did find something too hideous to consider.
The issue, Emet-Selch thinks, gingerly reaching across the table to draw fingers along Viktor's palm, tracing the lines of his hand like leylines in a bit of spellwork, the issue is simple closeness. Letting someone in, when he has spent thousands of years layering countless protective shells between him and the fragmented mess of the world. He doesn't know if he even recalls how to. ]
You will not...dig. If we were to. There will be precise boundaries set into place, and I expect nary a toe to so much as ilm toward those boundaries. For your sake and mine.