[Well that doesn't sound very promising, now does it? Perhaps, then, there is yet hope that his own plan has not completely gone to ruin. Though, something doesn't seem quite right about that either. Emet-Selch takes great pains to bring his expression back to something vaguely resembling neutrality. After all, there's clearly quite more to this little tale or else the Exarch wouldn't have found it necessary to bring him into his own home.]
[Ah, and it seems he was entirely correct. Emet-Selch makes note of the way his host's tone shifts, and he considers the rest of the telling, shifting it over in his mind like a particularly interesting specimen. But, yes. He begins to see how the puzzle fits together. If the Exarch attempted to absorb all of that light, and his attempts were interrupted midway through, the recoil of all that light-aspected aether would have flowed - nay, fairly surged backwards into the source from whence it came. Oh, poor weary wanderer... He himself can barely comprehend the strain all that power must have had on such a fragmented, mortal existence. It's a wonder they were even able to survive it.]
...No, you're right. That does rather sound like something I would do. And well can I imagine it. After all, noble as you are, someone of your considerable talent is of no use to me dead, and merely observing as one takes all of that light - all of my long, hard work - out of the First is not something I'd easily allow.
But then I've never lied to any of you lot about that.
[And yet. The Tempest of all places? What-- oh.]
Still, look at it this way. I did you a favor. Surely that counts for something?
[And the frown returns as he take a long, stabilizing sip to distract from this odd feeling of dread, as if he's about to have a rug swept out from underneath his feet - one he didn't even realize he was standing on. Yes, he'd always hoped to find a way to encourage the Warrior to be a little more open-minded about his own way of thinking, but why would he invite the entire party along? Short of a rescue attempt (likely), that all sounds entirely too troublesome.]
Though, setting all of that aside, I am rather curious about our private engagement in the Tempest. To be perfectly honest, I'm almost surprised at my own hospitality...
no subject
[Well that doesn't sound very promising, now does it? Perhaps, then, there is yet hope that his own plan has not completely gone to ruin. Though, something doesn't seem quite right about that either. Emet-Selch takes great pains to bring his expression back to something vaguely resembling neutrality. After all, there's clearly quite more to this little tale or else the Exarch wouldn't have found it necessary to bring him into his own home.]
[Ah, and it seems he was entirely correct. Emet-Selch makes note of the way his host's tone shifts, and he considers the rest of the telling, shifting it over in his mind like a particularly interesting specimen. But, yes. He begins to see how the puzzle fits together. If the Exarch attempted to absorb all of that light, and his attempts were interrupted midway through, the recoil of all that light-aspected aether would have flowed - nay, fairly surged backwards into the source from whence it came. Oh, poor weary wanderer... He himself can barely comprehend the strain all that power must have had on such a fragmented, mortal existence. It's a wonder they were even able to survive it.]
...No, you're right. That does rather sound like something I would do. And well can I imagine it. After all, noble as you are, someone of your considerable talent is of no use to me dead, and merely observing as one takes all of that light - all of my long, hard work - out of the First is not something I'd easily allow.
But then I've never lied to any of you lot about that.
[And yet. The Tempest of all places? What-- oh.]
Still, look at it this way. I did you a favor. Surely that counts for something?
[And the frown returns as he take a long, stabilizing sip to distract from this odd feeling of dread, as if he's about to have a rug swept out from underneath his feet - one he didn't even realize he was standing on. Yes, he'd always hoped to find a way to encourage the Warrior to be a little more open-minded about his own way of thinking, but why would he invite the entire party along? Short of a rescue attempt (likely), that all sounds entirely too troublesome.]
Though, setting all of that aside, I am rather curious about our private engagement in the Tempest. To be perfectly honest, I'm almost surprised at my own hospitality...