[It is pretty clear from the sourness of his expression that Tataru's sentiments are not very much aligned with his own. Though it's a look that contains as much grief as it does disapproval, and when he opens his mouth to say that they must have very different values for what qualifies as precious--
--he does manage to stop himself. He didn't particularly want to start an argument that would go nowhere. Occasionally being able to reign himself in counted as learning, didn't it?
So Emet-Selch shuffles slowly towards his designated chair by the kitchen table, settling into it with no small degree of heaviness.]
--I assume you shall be joining me in sharing in the results of your handiwork? I notice that you brought more than enough.
[A small gesture towards the box of muffins that she'd brought with her, before turning towards the one set aside for him. The way he breaks a piece off with his fingers is strikingly laborious, as though even this much was a drain on his stamina.]
Once he's seated himself she pours them each a cup of tea, perched upon a chair to reach the table with ease. A plate has been set out for herself as well which soon finds a muffin occupying it once she's nudged Emet's designated tea cup in his direction. Settling down on her knees she picks off a piece of muffin much in the same vein as her Garlean companion, but with far more enthusiasm. It may seem a little uncomfortable to be in a chair in such a position but clearly she's had practice and isn't bothered in the slightest.
Oh the struggle of being short.]
So! Back to my kettle. I've always been curious to ask but Cid is ever so busy and it never seemed appropriate...what was Garlemald like, in your experience? What of the magitek you grew up with? I would love to learn of it all.
[Those... sure were some questions, Tataru. Emet-Selch hums to himself in thought, nodding in acknowledgement of the addition of tea. Just as slowly chewing over a bit of muffin (not at all bad, he had to accept), he uses the opportunity to think.
The full truth- as amusing as it would've been to state- was clearly out, but there were plenty of other things to focus on.]
...'Tis a dismal place. Do you know much of the history of the nation? Garleans did not originate in the hostile northern climes of Ilsabard, but were forced there from the more hospitable lands of Aldenard. Unable to manipulate aether in the same way as you... there was little they could do but struggle to survive in lands that no one else desired.
[He pauses to take a sip of tea.]
Of course, much changed with the advent of magitek. Mere survival is much less of an issue, though it's done little to improve the weather. The capital itself is bleak, cold in more than temperature. I'm sure you've seen your share of Castrums built in Eorzea- 'tis a similar style of architecture, if not as wholly militaristic.
--They're not bad. [An abrupt shift, as he points towards his gradually-diminishing treat.] Your muffins.
[Admittedly she didn't know much of the history of Garlemald at all. While she was open-minded enough to not reject and judge those who defected from the Empire based on their race at first glance, that didn't mean she was gung-ho about delving into history books like Urianger in her free time.
The more he describes it however Tataru's shoulders begin to sag just a bit. Dismal and cold. It makes her think back to her time in Ishgard which, despite the city being beautiful in its own right, was chilled not only in temperature but to outsiders as well.
A place driven by its might and military. She can't imagine how anyone can thrive.]
Thank you! Please, help yourself to another.
[She made a bunch...with the intention that he shares, of course, but he can absolutely have more than one. Another piece of muffin is popped into her mouth as she casts her gaze down to the surface of her tea, watching the steam rise.]
I was well acquainted with one of the Empire's Castrums...as a forced guest, you could say. [She had been kidnapped. It sucked. A lot.] I had hoped though the Empire had a bit more joy to it. What of painters and musicians? Dancers and festivities?
[Even uptight Ishgard was a place full of rich culture and reverence for art.]
[And he will take that bonus muffin as soon as he finishes with the first. Free food was the best kind, and while it wouldn't provide much of a burst of energy, it would help keep him a bit more awake.
And the Ascian would share; he could tell at a glance there was enough for the household.]
The fabled Garlean hospitality.... [A dry tone, and he affects a politely regretful look.] 'Tis fortunate that you managed to survive it.
[Had she been caught up in the capture of someone more valuable, he wondered. Emet-Selch doubted the empire would've targeted a lone accountant, no matter how crafty she was.]
I wouldn't say the empire is wholly bereft of joy, but I wouldn't describe it as pleasant place for most- particularly those with origins outside of Garlemald. While lives did improve with magitek, and more time could be spent on developing the arts- one thing that Solus did encourage, particularly theatrical performances- priorities have always been favoring the military. You could say it's our greatest export.
[An even drier tone, accompanied by a sigh and a faint shake of his head.]
And with Varis now emperor, most artistic endeavors have been suppressed. While Solus did allow critiques of government to be expressed in such a way... his grandson is not quite so lenient.
[Partially to discourage dissension through artistic protest, but mostly to spite the memory of his grandsire, the Ascian was certain. What a petty man.]
[Not exactly an export anyone favoured in the slightest, but she doesn't have to say as much. It's well known the expansion of the Empire wasn't supported by anyone who wasn't, y'know, loyal to them in the first place.
She can't help but perk up a bit though at the mention of theatre - that wasn't what she was expecting to hear. She's grateful to learn of it though and clearly she wants to know more. Another bit of muffin is pulled off and stuffed past her lips, one of her cheeks puffing out, somewhat akin to an overzealous nutkin. It only serves to accentuate her rounded features, before she's swallowing, fingers reaching for her tea.]
He sounds like a much more agreeable man, this Emperor Solus, especially if he was fond of theatre. Can you tell me more about him?
[Tataru's appreciation for her own muffins was slightly amusing, the Ascian continuing to take a more measured approach, a gradual devouring accompanied by tea.
Did he know much about Solus? Well....]
Agreeable? I suppose you could say that, though he is the one responsible for forming the empire at all... 'twas a republic, before his ascendance. His innovations with technology turned the military into the force that it is now, overcoming our aetherical shortcomings with firepower that far exceeds that of the average magic-bound Eorzean.
[There's little arrogance in his tone though, just a base statement of facts, accompanied by a small shrug.]
But I don't know if that sort of history would be of interest. He was considered charismatic and eccentric both, and quite a popular ruler for the hope he provided to what was a rather downtrodden population... but he had nearly as many enemies.
[A small pause.]
He did not have the easiest life. His first son [The smallest twinge here, barely perceptible.] died of illness whilst still young, and his wife not so many years after. And despite popularity, he was not known to allow anyone at all close.
[As she listens to Emet-Selch speak, attentive and quiet, she can't help but feel sympathy for the man he begins to describe. The Empire may be the enemy to Eorzea as a whole, but it's hard not to see this emperor as a man who was doing ultimately what he needed to for his people. Perhaps that vision or dream was corrupted along the way over time, but she can understand the desire to become something greater all too well.]
He sounds like an interesting man who lead an interesting life.
[She means that in earnest, pausing to take a sip of her tea.]
I can only imagine how lonely he must have felt...to have lost so much.
[With great power comes great responsibility, along with all the trappings of bureaucracy.]
...When I was smaller I remember wishing I could be the Sultana of Ul'dah - we're the same age, you see, and so it was easy enough to fantasize about what it'd be like. Of course, when I grew a bit older I realized how suffocating it would be, to be royalty and tasked to govern over people. There's no treasure or power in the world worth giving up one's personal freedom for, or at least that's how I see it.
[There's another sip before she sets her tea down to go back to her muffin.]
If he did so much for his people I can see why he was respected. Lifting a people out from despair and liberating them is no easy feat to accomplish.
[That Tataru would persist in her sympathy towards someone who'd had a rather negative impact on the lives of her friends, on Eorzea as a whole- it surprised him a bit, a flicker of it showing in his expression before being smoothed over.]
You could say that at the end... all that he had left was his love for his people. Even should the rest of the world come to curse him for his acts.
[Speaking of himself or 'Solus'? Even he's not entirely sure, and it's with a frown the Ascian moves on.]
But lofty positions... are tiresome enough when one gets to choose them, but being born into them is perhaps worse. [A small hum as he picks up his teacup but only holds it for the moment, gazing down at what's left.] Particularly for Ul'dah's sultana, I imagine, with her power so limited. For good or ill, Garlemald's emperor possesses far more direct influence.
[Which also meant that as soon as they're without an emperor, the whole thing begins to collapse. Working As Intended.]
And it's as you say... in any case, ruling over anyone seems a daunting task. Yet if one has the ability- do they not have some responsibility? To use their skills for some greater good? Even if it means sacrificing one's own happiness in the process.
[Despite all the war, despite all the heartache and bloodshed, that's a sentiment every ruler could agree with. If Tataru had to choose between the two she'd much prefer to live under a leader who had a genuine love for their people, even if they were flawed. It was much better than a cold-hearted tyrant who felt nothing.]
The Syndicate...is certainly a problem, but it is due to the nature of Ul'dah itself. I cannot see the people of my home changing their ways until they learn to put the worth of their fellow men over what coin they may have in their coffers.
[Not that Tataru is really one to talk...she's ruthless when it comes to money herself. Even she'll admit that. Even so, she won't go so far as to sacrifice people's lives over a bit of money...blackmail? Sure. Exploit? To a degree. She's no saint; if she were the Scions would've gone bankrupt long ago.]
Anyone born into that society, including myself, has a bit of an obsession with wealth. It's a hard habit to break free from.
[Even here she's back on her own bullshit, if her work schedule is anything to go by.]
I agree though, wholeheartedly. As unfortunate as it may be, if one has the strength, ability and resources to use what they have to better the lives of those around them? They have a duty to rise to the challenge, I think. Not to the point of despair, however. There is a balance that needs to be met. An unhappy ruler will make their people unhappy if they cannot be content with their cause.
Ul'dah... would likely need torn down in its entirety. A selfishness as described is not something easily mended. When the problem lies at the heart of its people, no law or change in leadership will change it.
At least you have the excuse of coming from a disadvantaged position. So long as you don't start hording for hording's sake, I suppose I can overlook it.
[Half-teasing, half-serious-in-an-annoyingly-superior-way, but it's a moment of something close to lightness. Only a moment, turning more thoughtful again a moment later.]
But the problem with despair....
[Emet-Selch pauses, finishing his cup of tea, before setting it down.]
--Is that rarely anyone starts in the grips of such emotion. And once you find yourself there, how likely is it that one can simply... vacate their position, shed themselves of their responsibilities? Said emotion is likely to not occur without cause, making it ever harder for one to have the luxury of just- stopping.
[His chiding has her laughing, if only because she has to own it. He's not wrong, you see, and it isn't uncommon for Dunesfolk to have, er, hoarding tendencies.]
I'll do my best not to hoard simply for the sake of it.
[She does have quite a large house, considering it's only herself, Henry, and her new dog that live in it. But! It's a nice reminder to have.]
...What should they do?
[He's asking for her opinion which didn't go over all that well the last time she did as much, but she's learned from the last time how to watch her phrasing.]
It's difficult, to be put in such a situation. One cannot simply stop what they've started...it would leave a power vacuum to be filled that could cause even more chaos.
[If they're still talking about politics, that is. Looking at you Nanamo-!]
I suppose one would, if they are lucky enough to have them, lean on their trusted advisers or people they can confide in, to share the brunt of the emotional burden.
[Opinions always have the risk of hitting him the wrong way, and triggering a bit of unwarranted spite and sharpness. But for now, at least, Emet-Selch is only curious for her perspective, as though this were some sort of hypothetical problem to solve between them, rather than anything personal.
(Of course it's personal.)]
You're quite right about that, I believe... if competent candidates for leadership roles were easy to come by, there would be far less pressure on those few dutiful souls to remain at their task past all point of health or reason. To abandon something important, with nothing to replace it--
[He cuts himself off, sighing heavily.]
Ideally, there would be confidants to share one's pain. But what if there weren't? No one else who believed, or understood, or was simply capable- how does one manage on their own?
[What if one was disinclined towards accepting emotional assistance regardless.
It'd be difficult, I'll admit. I would hate to be in such a position...
[She can't help but cast her gaze back down to what's left of her muffin.]
A person like that becomes a scorned savior, do they not? An individual doing their best to do right by their people, even if the others around them seem to not understand their point of view or actions. It makes me think a bit of a well-intentioned parent having their children partake in tasks they may hate in the moment but come to appreciate later on down the line, realizing their parents actions were done out of love.
[She hums a bit to herself, doing her best to try and come up with a solution. Frankly? She doesn't have one - all she has is suggestions.]
I suppose all one can do in such a position is not close themselves off from their people's concerns and worries. To stay connected, remain grounded and, above all, try to see the perspective from the other side. Perhaps open dialogue of some sort, if possible? It truly is an unfortunate position to be stuck in...
[Muffin break. Give her a moment to chew, making those cheeks of hers puff out again.]
I know I would do poorly if it were me, I'll tell you as much. To be alone and to have no one to believe in you...I know what that's like. No one should have to face such troubles alone but for those who do I can only imagine the strength and resolve it takes. They've my utmost respect.
[And Emet-Selch is quiet for a time, though he doesn't seem to be upset at Tataru's commentary. At least, not in an angry sense, and he distractedly picks at what's left of his muffin without eating it, just breaking off small pieces and leaving them on the plate.]
There's no real solution, is there? Only tragic realities.
[Though he'd never stopped looking tired, the Ascian seems ever more so. He didn't expect to find any kind of answer from Tataru- and really, even if she'd suggested a solution, he would've just scorned it. Just the thought of opening a dialogue- well, that entirely depended on who he was opening a dialogue with. His people were no longer present to speak to, and mortals...
There was nothing worth talking to there.
(Nevermind that he was discussing this with a mortal.)]
People... do tend towards the childish, more often than not. Petulant, short-sighted, incapable of understanding the harm they cause. And sometimes... they overwhelm their parents, will never be given the opportunity to learn better.
[Realizing he's been tearing what's left of his poor muffin apart, he stops, dropping a few crumbs and withdrawing his hand.]
'Tis unfortunate when one shares one's perspective, only to have it come to naught regardless. Where violence becomes the only answer.
I wish I could say that isn't the case...but you're not wrong. Words only have so much weight behind them before they require being backed up by action, whether said actions are violent or not.
[If there was a solution it's one she hadn't found yet, nor is her ego big enough that she thinks she knows what's right when it comes to such a delicate, difficult situation. She was a schemer and problem solver, sure, but she was no diplomat or politician. Such hypotheticals were best left to those like Alphinaud to address.
Still...the state of his muffin doesn't go unnoticed. Clearly this conversation is causing him a bit of stress. That hadn't been her intention. Perhaps she can shift things into a more positive topic.]
Speaking of perspectives and thoughts, have you given much thought as to what I could craft for you?
[She hadn't forgotten and the offer is still, quite clearly, on the table.]
[And the only actions that mattered, the only ones that lingered, were the violent sort. But he doesn't say as much, the continued way he withdraws providing enough of a response.
Had he made a mistake, not using violence against those heroes when he'd first encountered them? In a practical sense... yes. They were undoubtedly weaker then. It wasn't that he regretted giving them a chance, trying to understand and be understood- but in terms of pure effect, it had been the wrong choice. Words had not been enough.
The question draws a blink, expression briefly confused as the new topic sinks in. As he tries to think on whether he'd actually decided on something.]
--I could use another coat, I suppose. A longer one. I don't have any particular style in mind... whatever you think would suit would be acceptable.
[And if he didn't like the result, he just wouldn't use it.]
[There's a sudden glint behind her eyes that's reflected as she takes stock of the man sitting across from her. Already it's obvious that the gears inside her head are turning, ideas filling her head as to what would suit him. Clearly she's excited by the thought, her little hands clapping together.]
Ah...I've full authority then? Ohh...that gives me much to work with, indeed! Any particular colors you're fond of? I know the coat I see you wear is mostly reds, golds and black. Are those colors that are your favourite or have you other shades you prefer?
[That's the sort of glint that would make anyone nervous, and Emet-Selch briefly wondered what he'd given himself over to....
He eats a crumb of his torn-apart muffin before replying. It would surely be fine.]
In this field you're certainly the expert, so I'll leave it to your judgement. But in terms of clothing, yes, those would be my preferred colors. It's hard to go wrong with black as a base, isn't it?
[Amaurotine robes, Ascian robes, his current clothing....]
[Aside from subjecting himself to Tataru's detailed measurement taking it would be fine. She does have impeccable taste, after all. He may or may not have seen the edgelord outfit she'd made their mutual friend before they ended up in the First...if there's anything Tataru knows her hand around it's black fabric.]
You're not wrong at all. Black is a standard, certainly. It suits you well. Some might say it can be gloomy but I think it highlights your pale complexion and golden eye color quite well. I'll have to take your measurements at some point but we can do that later! Ohh...it'll be fun to make you something, Emet-Selch.
[Someone's excited...clearly. Can you blame her though? Tataru's got a thing for showing off leggies when it comes to fashion and Lalafell are sorely lacking in that particular department. Her Garlean friend however is not. The taller he is the more area she has to work with and the more fabric can drape and billow.]
It'll be a fantastic coat, I promise you that. Are you still willing to help source me materials?
[They had looked appropriately edgy on their sudden appearance upon the First....]
I'm relieved you think it suits. My measurements are yours for the taking.
[It's true, he has several lalafells worth of leggies for her to work with. The excitement at the prospect of... making him a thing is slightly amusing though. But if she wanted to, and he would benefit- he had no reason to turn her down.]
And of course. As soon as you've decided on what you need, 'tis little trouble to provide.
It's hard not to be excited though, at least in her opinion. Getting to make new garments for someone she never had before was a thrilling challenge, their frame a blank canvas if you will. Finishing off her muffin she wipes her mouth politely before putting away her dishes, keen to not leave a mess behind.]
It's settled then. I'll make you something extremely dashing. I've quite a few ideas...ohhh maybe I'll make them all. We'll see!
[She claps her hands together, eyes sparkling with determination.]
I'll let you know what I need soon. For now though I won't take up any more of your time. Enjoy the muffins, okay?
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--he does manage to stop himself. He didn't particularly want to start an argument that would go nowhere. Occasionally being able to reign himself in counted as learning, didn't it?
So Emet-Selch shuffles slowly towards his designated chair by the kitchen table, settling into it with no small degree of heaviness.]
--I assume you shall be joining me in sharing in the results of your handiwork? I notice that you brought more than enough.
[A small gesture towards the box of muffins that she'd brought with her, before turning towards the one set aside for him. The way he breaks a piece off with his fingers is strikingly laborious, as though even this much was a drain on his stamina.]
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[Whether he wants it or not. Sorry bud.
Once he's seated himself she pours them each a cup of tea, perched upon a chair to reach the table with ease. A plate has been set out for herself as well which soon finds a muffin occupying it once she's nudged Emet's designated tea cup in his direction. Settling down on her knees she picks off a piece of muffin much in the same vein as her Garlean companion, but with far more enthusiasm. It may seem a little uncomfortable to be in a chair in such a position but clearly she's had practice and isn't bothered in the slightest.
Oh the struggle of being short.]
So! Back to my kettle. I've always been curious to ask but Cid is ever so busy and it never seemed appropriate...what was Garlemald like, in your experience? What of the magitek you grew up with? I would love to learn of it all.
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The full truth- as amusing as it would've been to state- was clearly out, but there were plenty of other things to focus on.]
...'Tis a dismal place. Do you know much of the history of the nation? Garleans did not originate in the hostile northern climes of Ilsabard, but were forced there from the more hospitable lands of Aldenard. Unable to manipulate aether in the same way as you... there was little they could do but struggle to survive in lands that no one else desired.
[He pauses to take a sip of tea.]
Of course, much changed with the advent of magitek. Mere survival is much less of an issue, though it's done little to improve the weather. The capital itself is bleak, cold in more than temperature. I'm sure you've seen your share of Castrums built in Eorzea- 'tis a similar style of architecture, if not as wholly militaristic.
--They're not bad. [An abrupt shift, as he points towards his gradually-diminishing treat.] Your muffins.
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The more he describes it however Tataru's shoulders begin to sag just a bit. Dismal and cold. It makes her think back to her time in Ishgard which, despite the city being beautiful in its own right, was chilled not only in temperature but to outsiders as well.
A place driven by its might and military. She can't imagine how anyone can thrive.]
Thank you! Please, help yourself to another.
[She made a bunch...with the intention that he shares, of course, but he can absolutely have more than one. Another piece of muffin is popped into her mouth as she casts her gaze down to the surface of her tea, watching the steam rise.]
I was well acquainted with one of the Empire's Castrums...as a forced guest, you could say. [She had been kidnapped. It sucked. A lot.] I had hoped though the Empire had a bit more joy to it. What of painters and musicians? Dancers and festivities?
[Even uptight Ishgard was a place full of rich culture and reverence for art.]
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And the Ascian would share; he could tell at a glance there was enough for the household.]
The fabled Garlean hospitality.... [A dry tone, and he affects a politely regretful look.] 'Tis fortunate that you managed to survive it.
[Had she been caught up in the capture of someone more valuable, he wondered. Emet-Selch doubted the empire would've targeted a lone accountant, no matter how crafty she was.]
I wouldn't say the empire is wholly bereft of joy, but I wouldn't describe it as pleasant place for most- particularly those with origins outside of Garlemald. While lives did improve with magitek, and more time could be spent on developing the arts- one thing that Solus did encourage, particularly theatrical performances- priorities have always been favoring the military. You could say it's our greatest export.
[An even drier tone, accompanied by a sigh and a faint shake of his head.]
And with Varis now emperor, most artistic endeavors have been suppressed. While Solus did allow critiques of government to be expressed in such a way... his grandson is not quite so lenient.
[Partially to discourage dissension through artistic protest, but mostly to spite the memory of his grandsire, the Ascian was certain. What a petty man.]
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She can't help but perk up a bit though at the mention of theatre - that wasn't what she was expecting to hear. She's grateful to learn of it though and clearly she wants to know more. Another bit of muffin is pulled off and stuffed past her lips, one of her cheeks puffing out, somewhat akin to an overzealous nutkin. It only serves to accentuate her rounded features, before she's swallowing, fingers reaching for her tea.]
He sounds like a much more agreeable man, this Emperor Solus, especially if he was fond of theatre. Can you tell me more about him?
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Did he know much about Solus? Well....]
Agreeable? I suppose you could say that, though he is the one responsible for forming the empire at all... 'twas a republic, before his ascendance. His innovations with technology turned the military into the force that it is now, overcoming our aetherical shortcomings with firepower that far exceeds that of the average magic-bound Eorzean.
[There's little arrogance in his tone though, just a base statement of facts, accompanied by a small shrug.]
But I don't know if that sort of history would be of interest. He was considered charismatic and eccentric both, and quite a popular ruler for the hope he provided to what was a rather downtrodden population... but he had nearly as many enemies.
[A small pause.]
He did not have the easiest life. His first son [The smallest twinge here, barely perceptible.] died of illness whilst still young, and his wife not so many years after. And despite popularity, he was not known to allow anyone at all close.
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He sounds like an interesting man who lead an interesting life.
[She means that in earnest, pausing to take a sip of her tea.]
I can only imagine how lonely he must have felt...to have lost so much.
[With great power comes great responsibility, along with all the trappings of bureaucracy.]
...When I was smaller I remember wishing I could be the Sultana of Ul'dah - we're the same age, you see, and so it was easy enough to fantasize about what it'd be like. Of course, when I grew a bit older I realized how suffocating it would be, to be royalty and tasked to govern over people. There's no treasure or power in the world worth giving up one's personal freedom for, or at least that's how I see it.
[There's another sip before she sets her tea down to go back to her muffin.]
If he did so much for his people I can see why he was respected. Lifting a people out from despair and liberating them is no easy feat to accomplish.
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You could say that at the end... all that he had left was his love for his people. Even should the rest of the world come to curse him for his acts.
[Speaking of himself or 'Solus'? Even he's not entirely sure, and it's with a frown the Ascian moves on.]
But lofty positions... are tiresome enough when one gets to choose them, but being born into them is perhaps worse. [A small hum as he picks up his teacup but only holds it for the moment, gazing down at what's left.] Particularly for Ul'dah's sultana, I imagine, with her power so limited. For good or ill, Garlemald's emperor possesses far more direct influence.
[Which also meant that as soon as they're without an emperor, the whole thing begins to collapse. Working As Intended.]
And it's as you say... in any case, ruling over anyone seems a daunting task. Yet if one has the ability- do they not have some responsibility? To use their skills for some greater good? Even if it means sacrificing one's own happiness in the process.
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The Syndicate...is certainly a problem, but it is due to the nature of Ul'dah itself. I cannot see the people of my home changing their ways until they learn to put the worth of their fellow men over what coin they may have in their coffers.
[Not that Tataru is really one to talk...she's ruthless when it comes to money herself. Even she'll admit that. Even so, she won't go so far as to sacrifice people's lives over a bit of money...blackmail? Sure. Exploit? To a degree. She's no saint; if she were the Scions would've gone bankrupt long ago.]
Anyone born into that society, including myself, has a bit of an obsession with wealth. It's a hard habit to break free from.
[Even here she's back on her own bullshit, if her work schedule is anything to go by.]
I agree though, wholeheartedly. As unfortunate as it may be, if one has the strength, ability and resources to use what they have to better the lives of those around them? They have a duty to rise to the challenge, I think. Not to the point of despair, however. There is a balance that needs to be met. An unhappy ruler will make their people unhappy if they cannot be content with their cause.
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At least you have the excuse of coming from a disadvantaged position. So long as you don't start hording for hording's sake, I suppose I can overlook it.
[Half-teasing, half-serious-in-an-annoyingly-superior-way, but it's a moment of something close to lightness. Only a moment, turning more thoughtful again a moment later.]
But the problem with despair....
[Emet-Selch pauses, finishing his cup of tea, before setting it down.]
--Is that rarely anyone starts in the grips of such emotion. And once you find yourself there, how likely is it that one can simply... vacate their position, shed themselves of their responsibilities? Said emotion is likely to not occur without cause, making it ever harder for one to have the luxury of just- stopping.
What should they do, in such a case?
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I'll do my best not to hoard simply for the sake of it.
[She does have quite a large house, considering it's only herself, Henry, and her new dog that live in it. But! It's a nice reminder to have.]
...What should they do?
[He's asking for her opinion which didn't go over all that well the last time she did as much, but she's learned from the last time how to watch her phrasing.]
It's difficult, to be put in such a situation. One cannot simply stop what they've started...it would leave a power vacuum to be filled that could cause even more chaos.
[If they're still talking about politics, that is. Looking at you Nanamo-!]
I suppose one would, if they are lucky enough to have them, lean on their trusted advisers or people they can confide in, to share the brunt of the emotional burden.
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(Of course it's personal.)]
You're quite right about that, I believe... if competent candidates for leadership roles were easy to come by, there would be far less pressure on those few dutiful souls to remain at their task past all point of health or reason. To abandon something important, with nothing to replace it--
[He cuts himself off, sighing heavily.]
Ideally, there would be confidants to share one's pain. But what if there weren't? No one else who believed, or understood, or was simply capable- how does one manage on their own?
[What if one was disinclined towards accepting emotional assistance regardless.
Solve his problems for him, Tataru.]
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[She can't help but cast her gaze back down to what's left of her muffin.]
A person like that becomes a scorned savior, do they not? An individual doing their best to do right by their people, even if the others around them seem to not understand their point of view or actions. It makes me think a bit of a well-intentioned parent having their children partake in tasks they may hate in the moment but come to appreciate later on down the line, realizing their parents actions were done out of love.
[She hums a bit to herself, doing her best to try and come up with a solution. Frankly? She doesn't have one - all she has is suggestions.]
I suppose all one can do in such a position is not close themselves off from their people's concerns and worries. To stay connected, remain grounded and, above all, try to see the perspective from the other side. Perhaps open dialogue of some sort, if possible? It truly is an unfortunate position to be stuck in...
[Muffin break. Give her a moment to chew, making those cheeks of hers puff out again.]
I know I would do poorly if it were me, I'll tell you as much. To be alone and to have no one to believe in you...I know what that's like. No one should have to face such troubles alone but for those who do I can only imagine the strength and resolve it takes. They've my utmost respect.
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There's no real solution, is there? Only tragic realities.
[Though he'd never stopped looking tired, the Ascian seems ever more so. He didn't expect to find any kind of answer from Tataru- and really, even if she'd suggested a solution, he would've just scorned it. Just the thought of opening a dialogue- well, that entirely depended on who he was opening a dialogue with. His people were no longer present to speak to, and mortals...
There was nothing worth talking to there.
(Nevermind that he was discussing this with a mortal.)]
People... do tend towards the childish, more often than not. Petulant, short-sighted, incapable of understanding the harm they cause. And sometimes... they overwhelm their parents, will never be given the opportunity to learn better.
[Realizing he's been tearing what's left of his poor muffin apart, he stops, dropping a few crumbs and withdrawing his hand.]
'Tis unfortunate when one shares one's perspective, only to have it come to naught regardless. Where violence becomes the only answer.
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[If there was a solution it's one she hadn't found yet, nor is her ego big enough that she thinks she knows what's right when it comes to such a delicate, difficult situation. She was a schemer and problem solver, sure, but she was no diplomat or politician. Such hypotheticals were best left to those like Alphinaud to address.
Still...the state of his muffin doesn't go unnoticed. Clearly this conversation is causing him a bit of stress. That hadn't been her intention. Perhaps she can shift things into a more positive topic.]
Speaking of perspectives and thoughts, have you given much thought as to what I could craft for you?
[She hadn't forgotten and the offer is still, quite clearly, on the table.]
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Had he made a mistake, not using violence against those heroes when he'd first encountered them? In a practical sense... yes. They were undoubtedly weaker then. It wasn't that he regretted giving them a chance, trying to understand and be understood- but in terms of pure effect, it had been the wrong choice. Words had not been enough.
The question draws a blink, expression briefly confused as the new topic sinks in. As he tries to think on whether he'd actually decided on something.]
--I could use another coat, I suppose. A longer one. I don't have any particular style in mind... whatever you think would suit would be acceptable.
[And if he didn't like the result, he just wouldn't use it.]
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Ah...I've full authority then? Ohh...that gives me much to work with, indeed! Any particular colors you're fond of? I know the coat I see you wear is mostly reds, golds and black. Are those colors that are your favourite or have you other shades you prefer?
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He eats a crumb of his torn-apart muffin before replying. It would surely be fine.]
In this field you're certainly the expert, so I'll leave it to your judgement. But in terms of clothing, yes, those would be my preferred colors. It's hard to go wrong with black as a base, isn't it?
[Amaurotine robes, Ascian robes, his current clothing....]
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You're not wrong at all. Black is a standard, certainly. It suits you well. Some might say it can be gloomy but I think it highlights your pale complexion and golden eye color quite well. I'll have to take your measurements at some point but we can do that later! Ohh...it'll be fun to make you something, Emet-Selch.
[Someone's excited...clearly. Can you blame her though? Tataru's got a thing for showing off leggies when it comes to fashion and Lalafell are sorely lacking in that particular department. Her Garlean friend however is not. The taller he is the more area she has to work with and the more fabric can drape and billow.]
It'll be a fantastic coat, I promise you that. Are you still willing to help source me materials?
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I'm relieved you think it suits. My measurements are yours for the taking.
[It's true, he has several lalafells worth of leggies for her to work with. The excitement at the prospect of... making him a thing is slightly amusing though. But if she wanted to, and he would benefit- he had no reason to turn her down.]
And of course. As soon as you've decided on what you need, 'tis little trouble to provide.
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It's hard not to be excited though, at least in her opinion. Getting to make new garments for someone she never had before was a thrilling challenge, their frame a blank canvas if you will. Finishing off her muffin she wipes her mouth politely before putting away her dishes, keen to not leave a mess behind.]
It's settled then. I'll make you something extremely dashing. I've quite a few ideas...ohhh maybe I'll make them all. We'll see!
[She claps her hands together, eyes sparkling with determination.]
I'll let you know what I need soon. For now though I won't take up any more of your time. Enjoy the muffins, okay?