[Your laziness is why Tataru's made a fucking giant pot of soup for Mira because she doesn't trust you to make a very good nurse, let alone cook. (And how will one get better if they don't eat well???) Still, despite this, she's smiling when she opens the door, the new home filled with the inviting smell of her take on Heavensegg soup. It's clear that she's just moved but already has started to make it her own place. Quickly she ushers him inside, not wanting to keep the door open for longer than needs be. It's cold out there, after all!]
Well you came certainly quick! It must be those long legs of yours.
[Hey, he's sort of making sure Mira is eating. He might not necessarily be preparing the food himself, but as long as he obtains it from somewhere that's all that matters.
Nodding at her greeting, Emet-Selch doesn't correct her assumptions about his walking habits, taking a quick stock of her house, before settling his attention back on her. The offer gets a light shrug.]
I'm fine, but thank you. Though I'll certainly take some of your soup when I depart.
[It did smell good, he had to admit. At least to himself, if not to her.]
I'll be sending the whole pot with you. I trust you'll share it well with Mira.
[Men might stuff their faces but she can't imagine he wouldn't dutifully feed it to the sickly Warrior, not when Mira had told her that he'd been tending to her. There's a wry smile that slips on her lips briefly as she remembers the sight of the two swapping spit at the kissing booth...but that's neither here nor there.
She's just, well, amused.]
But yes, your height is in great need. Urianger helped me initially when I moved but there are a few things I wanted to rearrange that I can't seem to reach. Jars of spices were placed on the top shelf of the cupboard there and the kitchen table is a bit too heavy for me to move on my own...
[Looks like she has a List of menial tasks to be accomplished. Don't worry though, the soup's worth it.]
I'll pour as much as I can down her throat, I assure you.
[The Ascian never had much of an appetite, honestly; the soup would be safely delivered to its intended recipient. But what was that smile for, Tataru...? It's not there long enough for him to think much of it, especially when she starts naming things for him to do.
Which gets a frown out of him, for all that he basically signed up for this. Later on, Tataru, you can appreciate getting an Ascian to fetch and move things for you. So he only sighs, heading in the direction of the kitchen, still walking with a slight limp.]
I imagine living in places not made for those of your stature becomes tiresome quite quickly. ...Though the miqo'te also have a problem with the tallest shelves, so you're not alone.
[Had he pushed things to the back of the Exarch's highest cabinets out of sheer pettiness? Yes. But now he's using his Tall Powers for good, finding the aforementioned jars and plucking them from their lofty perches. Setting them on the countertop for now, he assumes Tataru could decide on her own where she wanted them to end up.]
It would be tiresome if I wasn't so used to it. Nothing in Eorzea is suited to my race's short stature. I've become quite the climber thanks to it.
[She'll get a kick out of it later on for sure, while at the same time being simultaneously horrified. At least for now that's a secret best kept from her ears, especially when the relationship between the Garlean and Lalafell is quite amiable.
The limp he has doesn't escape her gaze as she watches him move over toward the cupboard, doing as she'd asked of him. She appreciates it, really she does, but his leg concerns her.]
Pardon me if it's intrusive to ask but...have you always had such a limp, Emet-Selch?
You would think that Ul'dah, at least, would be a bit more accommodating.
[Considering the higher percentage of lalafell as a population group. Considering their very sultana was a lalafell.
Finishing with the jars, he glances back to Tataru at the question, frown deepening a degree, though not from offense at her words.]
No... much like my eye, 'tis a result of my recent captivity. Unlike my eye, it used to be much worse, so I remain hopeful that it will mend the rest of the way in time.
[He'll always have a nasty scar from it though. He'll always have a lot of scars from it.]
One would think that would be the case. It is somewhat more suited than the other city-states, but much has been altered and imported with the influence and influx of traders and residents of other races settling within her walls.
[Her expression seems to soften a bit at the mention of the kidnapping he'd told her of when they'd met. So it wasn't just his eye that had fallen victim then...]
I suppose 'tis good that you're used to it, if nothing else. ...Perhaps I'll leave a ladder with you ere I depart.
[For more self-sufficiency. She seemed the practical sort.
Not that it would help for heavy things, so he dutifully drags the table over to its desired location. For a Garlean he wasn't particularly strong (and he wouldn't be surprised if most of the Warriors could best him physically, if they desired, despite the way he towered over them), but he wasn't weak either, so it's not terribly difficult.]
...There. Was there anything else that you needed?
[There's a slight sigh to his tone, as if this was all terribly beneath him (which it was), but it's more for the show of the thing. The absurdity of performing menial tasks for the Scion's receptionist amused him a little. This was his life now. From emperor to... whatever this was.]
[Unironically she would. As much as she wants to boss him around and make him rearrange her furniture, now that's she's noticed his limp she kind of feels bad about it. There's a small shake of her head at the question. Sure she could come up with a plethora of tasks for him to do, but it's kind of cruel to make a person with a lame leg help her practice a bit of Feng Shui.]
No, that'll do. Thank you.
[But that doesn't mean he's entirely off the hook.]
Ah, but we've to have a magic study date together soon! Once you've been freed from your nursing duties, of course.
[Emet-Selch is both a bit relieved at not having to do anything more, and slightly miffed that he'd been dragged out all this way just for that.
That, and soup, he reminds himself, leaning against a counter to take some of the weight off his leg. A mostly-free meal was worth turning up for.
The mention of nursing duties gets another frown and a disapproving shake of his head.]
I'd say she can handle herself... but that's been proven to clearly not be the case. Still, I'd say... early next week should see me sufficiently free.
[And while he's still thinking about it, he just goes ahead and conjures up that ladder with a literal snap of his fingers. Simple things like this weren't much trouble by now, long-accustomed to clearly visualizing whatever it was he wished to create.
It's not a full-sized one, but high enough to reach the taller cabinets, at least. And the steps are proportioned for lalafell-length legs. Made of a smooth, dark wood, it's unobtrusive and sturdy-looking.]
[It may not be a big deal to him but to Tataru it is. When you're little there are a lot of tasks people of a taller stature take for granted. She's legitimately grateful for his help, even if to him he hasn't done much at all.]
Next week then. We'll study together.
[She's glad to have that sorted and is about to say as much before he suddenly conjures a ladder out of thin air for her. The surprise on her face is instant, delight gripping her at the sight. A moment later and her hands are in the air as she jumps in place. Again, it might not be much to Emet-Selch but to her it's going to make things so much easier.]
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Well you came certainly quick! It must be those long legs of yours.
[Haha. If only she knew he hated walking.]
Can I offer you something?
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Nodding at her greeting, Emet-Selch doesn't correct her assumptions about his walking habits, taking a quick stock of her house, before settling his attention back on her. The offer gets a light shrug.]
I'm fine, but thank you. Though I'll certainly take some of your soup when I depart.
[It did smell good, he had to admit. At least to himself, if not to her.]
Now- what was it that you required my height for?
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[Men might stuff their faces but she can't imagine he wouldn't dutifully feed it to the sickly Warrior, not when Mira had told her that he'd been tending to her. There's a wry smile that slips on her lips briefly as she remembers the sight of the two swapping spit at the kissing booth...but that's neither here nor there.
She's just, well, amused.]
But yes, your height is in great need. Urianger helped me initially when I moved but there are a few things I wanted to rearrange that I can't seem to reach. Jars of spices were placed on the top shelf of the cupboard there and the kitchen table is a bit too heavy for me to move on my own...
[Looks like she has a List of menial tasks to be accomplished. Don't worry though, the soup's worth it.]
no subject
[The Ascian never had much of an appetite, honestly; the soup would be safely delivered to its intended recipient. But what was that smile for, Tataru...? It's not there long enough for him to think much of it, especially when she starts naming things for him to do.
Which gets a frown out of him, for all that he basically signed up for this. Later on, Tataru, you can appreciate getting an Ascian to fetch and move things for you. So he only sighs, heading in the direction of the kitchen, still walking with a slight limp.]
I imagine living in places not made for those of your stature becomes tiresome quite quickly. ...Though the miqo'te also have a problem with the tallest shelves, so you're not alone.
[Had he pushed things to the back of the Exarch's highest cabinets out of sheer pettiness? Yes. But now he's using his Tall Powers for good, finding the aforementioned jars and plucking them from their lofty perches. Setting them on the countertop for now, he assumes Tataru could decide on her own where she wanted them to end up.]
no subject
[She'll get a kick out of it later on for sure, while at the same time being simultaneously horrified. At least for now that's a secret best kept from her ears, especially when the relationship between the Garlean and Lalafell is quite amiable.
The limp he has doesn't escape her gaze as she watches him move over toward the cupboard, doing as she'd asked of him. She appreciates it, really she does, but his leg concerns her.]
Pardon me if it's intrusive to ask but...have you always had such a limp, Emet-Selch?
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[Considering the higher percentage of lalafell as a population group. Considering their very sultana was a lalafell.
Finishing with the jars, he glances back to Tataru at the question, frown deepening a degree, though not from offense at her words.]
No... much like my eye, 'tis a result of my recent captivity. Unlike my eye, it used to be much worse, so I remain hopeful that it will mend the rest of the way in time.
[He'll always have a nasty scar from it though. He'll always have a lot of scars from it.]
--Where did you want this table?
no subject
[Her expression seems to soften a bit at the mention of the kidnapping he'd told her of when they'd met. So it wasn't just his eye that had fallen victim then...]
To the left corner, if it isn't too much trouble.
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[For more self-sufficiency. She seemed the practical sort.
Not that it would help for heavy things, so he dutifully drags the table over to its desired location. For a Garlean he wasn't particularly strong (and he wouldn't be surprised if most of the Warriors could best him physically, if they desired, despite the way he towered over them), but he wasn't weak either, so it's not terribly difficult.]
...There. Was there anything else that you needed?
[There's a slight sigh to his tone, as if this was all terribly beneath him (which it was), but it's more for the show of the thing. The absurdity of performing menial tasks for the Scion's receptionist amused him a little. This was his life now. From emperor to... whatever this was.]
no subject
[Unironically she would. As much as she wants to boss him around and make him rearrange her furniture, now that's she's noticed his limp she kind of feels bad about it. There's a small shake of her head at the question. Sure she could come up with a plethora of tasks for him to do, but it's kind of cruel to make a person with a lame leg help her practice a bit of Feng Shui.]
No, that'll do. Thank you.
[But that doesn't mean he's entirely off the hook.]
Ah, but we've to have a magic study date together soon! Once you've been freed from your nursing duties, of course.
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That, and soup, he reminds himself, leaning against a counter to take some of the weight off his leg. A mostly-free meal was worth turning up for.
The mention of nursing duties gets another frown and a disapproving shake of his head.]
I'd say she can handle herself... but that's been proven to clearly not be the case. Still, I'd say... early next week should see me sufficiently free.
[And while he's still thinking about it, he just goes ahead and conjures up that ladder with a literal snap of his fingers. Simple things like this weren't much trouble by now, long-accustomed to clearly visualizing whatever it was he wished to create.
It's not a full-sized one, but high enough to reach the taller cabinets, at least. And the steps are proportioned for lalafell-length legs. Made of a smooth, dark wood, it's unobtrusive and sturdy-looking.]
no subject
Next week then. We'll study together.
[She's glad to have that sorted and is about to say as much before he suddenly conjures a ladder out of thin air for her. The surprise on her face is instant, delight gripping her at the sight. A moment later and her hands are in the air as she jumps in place. Again, it might not be much to Emet-Selch but to her it's going to make things so much easier.]
Ohhh-! A ladder? Thank you, thank you!