The furrow between brows only deepened the more the blond spoke, as sharp gaze shifted, to stare dully away at a hazy horizon. “So you boarded the wrong ship.” The words are soft, off-hand–he barely realized he was speaking. All this about different alphabets was fine enough, but this bit about a world split in two–
There were two possible explanations. Emil was either under grand delusions, or this was true. Either outcome left a foul taste in the militant’s mouth–his callous way of handling the boy would have to change. He couldn’t continue to hold such ire for someone that was, well, not in quite the right mind, and, heavens forbid this was a cultural dispute. The acceptance of more worlds than Ephinea and Fodra was more than he could handle, surely. Sure, sentient machines, his world being a satellite, growth and evolution that defied all logic–but more worlds. Honestly, it was too much.
Worst was the part of him that wanted to know more, to explore these new worlds. As if here were a character in his comics. The part of him that still lost his breath thinking about Fodra’s impossibly wide horizon, all the stars, and the darkness–Ephinea never got so dark. And there might be more worlds, ones that aren’t desolate, weren’t ravaged by forgotten histories–
Stop. Teeth grit as he forced himself not to get caught in fantasies, to stay rooted in reality. It was unlikely, and the only possibility he ought plan for would be to determine the level of risk any new lands might prove to be. It was part of why he’d pulled strings to get Emil a tamer’s license–not solely out of a feeling of owing the boy, but with his combat prowess and affinity for beasts, he could prove a risk. Keeping the timid boy on good(-ish) terms was a preventive measure.
The book the blond had pulled out was given only a cursory glance–he didn’t trust himself not to get pulled into the fantasy if he spared it any more time. Don’t let the part of him that allowed himself to become dragged into all sorts of shenanigans prevail. His eyes are pressed shut, just a moment before steeling himself to speak again, gaze set firmly ‘pon the blond.
“I don’t have time for frivolity. As impressive a feat of work as this may be,” though his gesture towards the book and map was dismissive, there was something–odd, happening with the militant’s face. He looked half–pained, if anything. “This isn’t something you ought show people around these parts. Not those you don’t trust, at the least. And surely, you don’t trust me–you can’t possibly like me. Not after the way I act. Few do.” But nevermind that, he’s already hastily gone onto his next point.
“Going to Windor is still a ridiculous waste of time and Gald, no matter how important your friend is. I won’t stop you from seeing–whoever–but if you’d like a second option, I, ugh–” There rises slender hand to press firm fingers ‘gainst his temple–his head was throbbing. “You can come to my manor and I’ll go through our letters.”
partly true. emil did board the wrong ship. he had not intended to be caught here. in this place. away from his friend, the one who could solve all of these problems, all of these issues, but ... fingers slowly gripped into his pant legs, much to orions dissatisfaction, waiting for the final say as he finished speaking. green eyes begging for some form of belief. some form of at least understanding. empathy. he did not like hubert, but he was a smart individual (as he constantly seemed to insist) and emil just wished to reach some sort of understanding between the two of them.
if they could do that, then there might be room to grow. room to become, not friends (no, they were too far apart to ever become something like that,) but at least aquaintances that did not grimace when they were forced to work together.
instead, the pain was obvious on the luitenants face, much to emil's disatisfation. teeth grit, mouth pursed brows pulled down in attempt to separate himself from something that emil is not too sure what. there had to be some explanation.
" wh-what? impressive- that's not why i- " he never intended to share this information to try and brag. he was not that kind of person (even while he glowed when others complimented his strengths and hung on their every word,) he could not fathom what made hubert think such a thing of him. and to insinuate that he did not trust hubert ... was not untrue. there's a biting of emil's lips, eyes ducking down to his lap at the insinuation.
he could not meet the man's eyes for a small frame of time, until he was offered a place to go. blinking in surprise as he looked up again curiously. " you-but, you don't like me ... and, you i- " it at least earned hubert the pleasure of watching the blond fumble around his words, uncertain of how else to take this new information. " i-i would...appreciate your help, very much. " in the end, emil quieted quick his blabbering and ducked his head, slowly shifting once more to look towards orion and gently go to pet the large wolf-like creature.
" i am sorry for being such a burden. i will learn as quickly as i can. "
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