She doesn't take his arm, still obstinately walled in to a degree-- what an alarming sight that would be, Teren von Skraedder walking in-arm-in arm with a Nevarran gentleman like some alternate, classy version of herself.
"Fools and idealists," she says quietly, "stupid boys." Her look is hard, strained, fixed straight ahead. "The world was unkind to them. And I was theirs as well."
When she doesn't take his arm he brings it back in, but not completely. It will be easy enough for her to steady herself if she chooses to do so.
There are many things he could say, and few of them useful. Were they not all possibly foolish idealists, attempting to deal with a being some consider a god? And the world could be fickle indeed, dealing unkindness far more frequently than the reverse. But that was general, sweeping, and empty.
"You found a family with them." He can feel the way her focus is ahead of them. If the 'boys' were in front of them now, she'd grab them by the scruff of their necks and shake them, he's quite certain, before breaking down and embracing them. "As I did with the Mourn Watch."
And now he is here, without the Watch, and she is here, without her three. Did she have others, back in Kirkwall? He hoped she did.
The Mourn Watch, an organization of which Teren has been aware most of her life and only just recently encountered in person: a shadowy cabal serving Nevarra's elites, she had come to believe, only to have her negative judgment somewhat tempered by seeing their operations.
"The skeletons," she says suddenly, pivoting the conversation, "in the Necropolis." A sidelong glance at Emmrich, testing, "the ones what light the candles, open doors. Who were they?"
"The skeletons?" he asked with no little surprise at the change of topic. "All sorts. There's many former Mourn Watch among them. We've dedicated our lives to serve the Grand Necropolis, why not let our bones continue when we're done with them?" If he was to die, if he failed the ritual, at least he could still serve. And that was a thought that threatened to drag him down into fears he did not want to face right now.
Emmrich cleared his throat and continued. "And then there's the Venatori, who have no choice in the matter. They sealed their fate when they invaded with violence in their hearts." After a beat he glanced away with a shrug. "Perhaps it is not all sorts. Few among the nobility would choose service. But there are those who are grateful to the Necropolis for various reasons, those who saw it as a way to atone for what they did in their lives, and so on."
"But they all-- save the Venatori," Teren clarifies, uneasy, "they all wanted that. To be there. Working like that, in death." It's clearly bothering her, but she watches Emmrich's face carefully, granting him just a sliver more benefit of the doubt than most.
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corpsestuff) wrote2025-01-19 08:22 pm
no subject
"Fools and idealists," she says quietly, "stupid boys." Her look is hard, strained, fixed straight ahead.
"The world was unkind to them. And I was theirs as well."
no subject
There are many things he could say, and few of them useful. Were they not all possibly foolish idealists, attempting to deal with a being some consider a god? And the world could be fickle indeed, dealing unkindness far more frequently than the reverse. But that was general, sweeping, and empty.
"You found a family with them." He can feel the way her focus is ahead of them. If the 'boys' were in front of them now, she'd grab them by the scruff of their necks and shake them, he's quite certain, before breaking down and embracing them. "As I did with the Mourn Watch."
And now he is here, without the Watch, and she is here, without her three. Did she have others, back in Kirkwall? He hoped she did.
no subject
"The skeletons," she says suddenly, pivoting the conversation, "in the Necropolis." A sidelong glance at Emmrich, testing, "the ones what light the candles, open doors. Who were they?"
no subject
Emmrich cleared his throat and continued. "And then there's the Venatori, who have no choice in the matter. They sealed their fate when they invaded with violence in their hearts." After a beat he glanced away with a shrug. "Perhaps it is not all sorts. Few among the nobility would choose service. But there are those who are grateful to the Necropolis for various reasons, those who saw it as a way to atone for what they did in their lives, and so on."
returns from the dead myself
"What of Nevarra City's poor?"