[He sighs and mumbles] "Simply curious" he says before a torrent of little insults.
[He shakes his head and puts his work down for now. He brightens his voice.] You've come here to express all the ways you don't like him. Go on, then, unload your heavy burden.
[He snaps his head back to look at Hythlodaeus, scowling.]
While I may not dislike him, it doesn't necessarily mean I wish to break bread with him again so soon.
[His lips purse, and he scowls further, his gaze falling from Hythlodaeus to somewhere near the ground? It's unclear what he's looking at exactly.]
I wouldn't call it tension, nay.
[Maybe he's feeling a little off, what with telling Zidane some sensitive truths he doesn't want Hythlodaeus to hear. Sure, he seemed to understand, but...]
[Hythlodaeus pulls his lips into a tight little smile as he raises his brows. He doesn't dislike him, he rejects tension, but he doesn't like him enough to endure him for thirty or forty minutes?]
Can I not simply enjoy his companionship? Perhaps attend his plays?
[Hythlodaeus weaves his fingers together and looks back at Emet-Selch expectantly. He has not yet gotten to the damn root of his issue, but he will make him spell it out.]
[The question gives him pause, mainly because the answer isn't an easy one, especially with what he's trying to keep hidden from Hythlodaeus. His expansive knowledge of mortals and those who have been socialized as such (as seems the case with Zidane considering his circumstances) comes from experiences that he shouldn't have by Hythlodaeus' knowledge. Yet he can't simply let Zidane be cannon fodder to Hythlodaeus' whimsy.
Again his brow furrows and his mouth pulls into a tight frown.]
From what I have seen of these little men, these mortals—from our time here—I would say there is some measure of resilience, yes. But...they are brittle and emotional.
[He sighs, shaking his head, his expression softening.]
If you wished to break their hearts, scant would I care ordinarily, they mean little to me in the end, but...
[But he doesn't think Zidane deserves that. After a moment's pause, he adds:]
[His professed expertise on the mortals does, however, open itself to scrutiny. He can't help but change the subject somewhat.]
The mortals must have given you quite the show in your time here. How long was it? ...Not quite long enough to finish a simple two story residence, of course.
[It's ironic, that his own strategy to quiet Hythlodaeus' line of questioning would stab him far more deeply when it works than had it not.
I suppose not.
Such a simple reply, one that is acquiescing his point as he wanted him to, yet it strikes him deeply. Because he knows, he knows he's hiding the truth from him. He knows Hythlodaeus knows something is wrong, but won't pursue it because Emet-Selch is so set on not telling him it'd be a useless spiral of a conversation.
So he pretends to agree with Emet's point to appease him and move on, and somehow that's worse. Maybe he hoped Hythlodaeus would pursue it, or maybe he didn't. Zidane's stupid comment comes to mind, that it's his job to tell Hythlodaeus, and he cannot help but scrunch his nose in distaste—at himself, lest you mistake.
He breaks away from that line of thought as Hythlodaeus asks him a question, rolling his eyes to add dismissal to his answer.]
I happen to not dislike this one, and so I suppose I'd rather he not be heartbroken if you do not treat him with care. He's a romantic, if you haven't noticed.
[As if Hythlodaeus has no idea how to deal with romantics...]
You're right, I've never handled a romantic before. I'm utterly helpless in caring for them. Perhaps you could elucidate me on a few different strategies.
[He twirls a lock of hair in his fingertips. He looks to Emet-Selch with a sweet, docile expression. Ball's in your court, old man.]
[His expression sours as Hythlodaeus calls him out, both about his heartand his deep set eyes, though he had little choice about that! Okay, that's not true, but they're just naturally that way.
However, as Hythlodaeus puts his hands on his chest, his breath gets caught in his throat for a moment, his gaze staying glued to Hythlodaeus' own, though his expression doesn't really get better.]
And I know you, and how sometimes you can get lost in your fun to the detriment of those around you. You do not try to be wicked, and I would not name you so, yet...
[He pauses, his expression finally softening as he turns his head away.]
He has taken such a liking to you, and so quickly besides...so are your designs for the long haul?
[What he means to ask is if he should be invested in Zidane, as if it wasn't clear as day that he is already.]
He is a fine little fellow, don't you think? I have no interest in discarding him. Besides, that would make it awfully awkward to attend the theater... And there are so few choices as it is for proper entertainment.
[He winds his hands in the tassels, then picks his mask off of his ample bosom.]
Besides, you're quite attached already as well. Surely you have fun teasing him.
You express such interest, yet the moment I give you a single detail you get upset! There is no winning with you sometimes.
[He sets the mask back down as he traces the arches over the brow with a finger.]
I had no idea you were so passionate about theatre ships, of all things. The theatre, of course I am well aware of your affinity... Surely it is simply us who are too big for it?
I did not need to know such details as that, what the two of you enjoy in your own privacy is between you, I do not care to be included in its intricacies. My imagination does well enough without your words confirming it.
[Not that he's been imagining them going at it, more that he's not an idiot and he knows more or less what they're doing when they have had sex!
He shrugs his shoulders at the theatre ship comment, his mouth pulling into an uneasy slant. Though Hythlodaeus' hand is rather distracting...]
Well, 'tis merely a thought I've had since being on his, it really is just a matter of optimal performance for a stage and its actors. While we certainly dwarf it, I can scant imagine a proper sword fight playing out with that measily stage it boasts. Can you?
Perhaps it is merely a failure of imagination. [He laughs, they both know that is far from the case, but it makes a good insult.]
You said yourself that bigger is not necessarily better. Plenty of exchanges can take place in such an intimate space. Perhaps swords of an... alternate material. As it were.
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[He shakes his head and puts his work down for now. He brightens his voice.] You've come here to express all the ways you don't like him. Go on, then, unload your heavy burden.
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Who says I dislike him?
[Uh??]
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[He smiles with some artificial warmth towards Emet-Selch.]
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[He snaps his head back to look at Hythlodaeus, scowling.]
While I may not dislike him, it doesn't necessarily mean I wish to break bread with him again so soon.
[His lips purse, and he scowls further, his gaze falling from Hythlodaeus to somewhere near the ground? It's unclear what he's looking at exactly.]
I wouldn't call it tension, nay.
[Maybe he's feeling a little off, what with telling Zidane some sensitive truths he doesn't want Hythlodaeus to hear. Sure, he seemed to understand, but...]
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Then what would you call it?
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Annoyance.
[So, the basis of pretty much all of his friendships.
His gaze flicks back to Hythlodaeus' face.]
But I still wish to know your intentions with him.
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[Hythlodaeus weaves his fingers together and looks back at Emet-Selch expectantly. He has not yet gotten to the damn root of his issue, but he will make him spell it out.]
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[Still more vague bullshit, but slightly more into the desired direction.]
What if it becomes something more for him, but you grow bored? These little men are...
[He crosses his arms even tighter as he looks away from Hythlodaeus again.]
They're fragile, and you are not.
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[He presses his fingers to his lips.]
...Even so. I don't think I'll grow bored of him. He isn't boring, after all.
[And Hythlodaeus knows how to make his own fun. Perhaps that is what worries Emet-Selch.]
Do you really think him so fragile?
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Again his brow furrows and his mouth pulls into a tight frown.]
From what I have seen of these little men, these mortals—from our time here—I would say there is some measure of resilience, yes. But...they are brittle and emotional.
[He sighs, shaking his head, his expression softening.]
If you wished to break their hearts, scant would I care ordinarily, they mean little to me in the end, but...
[But he doesn't think Zidane deserves that. After a moment's pause, he adds:]
He calls you "Sunshine".
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[His professed expertise on the mortals does, however, open itself to scrutiny. He can't help but change the subject somewhat.]
The mortals must have given you quite the show in your time here. How long was it? ...Not quite long enough to finish a simple two story residence, of course.
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[He snaps back with a bit more gusto than was truly necessary, giving Hythlodaeus a pissy scowl.]
Why are you suspicious of me? Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?
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…I suppose not.
[But Emet-Selch would have to decide for himself if he was worthy of his own words. Hythlodaeus’ attention shifts back to Zidane.]
So why are you so worried about Zidane? You don’t usually take such an interest in my playthings.
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I suppose not.
Such a simple reply, one that is acquiescing his point as he wanted him to, yet it strikes him deeply. Because he knows, he knows he's hiding the truth from him. He knows Hythlodaeus knows something is wrong, but won't pursue it because Emet-Selch is so set on not telling him it'd be a useless spiral of a conversation.
So he pretends to agree with Emet's point to appease him and move on, and somehow that's worse. Maybe he hoped Hythlodaeus would pursue it, or maybe he didn't. Zidane's stupid comment comes to mind, that it's his job to tell Hythlodaeus, and he cannot help but scrunch his nose in distaste—at himself, lest you mistake.
He breaks away from that line of thought as Hythlodaeus asks him a question, rolling his eyes to add dismissal to his answer.]
I happen to not dislike this one, and so I suppose I'd rather he not be heartbroken if you do not treat him with care. He's a romantic, if you haven't noticed.
[As if Hythlodaeus has no idea how to deal with romantics...]
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[He twirls a lock of hair in his fingertips. He looks to Emet-Selch with a sweet, docile expression. Ball's in your court, old man.]
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[He's resilient in ways these little men aren't and that's his point!]
I can handle far more of your insensitivities than others can and you know it. Do not try to turn this around on me!
[He says, sounding rather sensitive.]
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[He stands, finally, moving towards him to place his hands on his chest.]
I know you can handle me. But I play with you so because I know you can take it.
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However, as Hythlodaeus puts his hands on his chest, his breath gets caught in his throat for a moment, his gaze staying glued to Hythlodaeus' own, though his expression doesn't really get better.]
And I know you, and how sometimes you can get lost in your fun to the detriment of those around you. You do not try to be wicked, and I would not name you so, yet...
[He pauses, his expression finally softening as he turns his head away.]
He has taken such a liking to you, and so quickly besides...so are your designs for the long haul?
[What he means to ask is if he should be invested in Zidane, as if it wasn't clear as day that he is already.]
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[He winds his hands in the tassels, then picks his mask off of his ample bosom.]
Besides, you're quite attached already as well. Surely you have fun teasing him.
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[Speaking of teasing! He glances at him as he takes his mask, raising an eyebrow at the action but doing little to stop him.]
I would not call it attached, I would name it "having a conscience", naught you'd know aught about.
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[There's a crinkle in his corner of his eyes as he smiles.]
You like his boat, don't you? You're upset because it's so small.
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[He rolls his eyes and feigns disgust with a curl of his lip.]
Bigger is not always better, but when it comes to theatre ships, size can be an important factor for performance.
[That isn't meant to sound like a dick joke, and yet...]
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[He sets the mask back down as he traces the arches over the brow with a finger.]
I had no idea you were so passionate about theatre ships, of all things. The theatre, of course I am well aware of your affinity... Surely it is simply us who are too big for it?
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[Not that he's been imagining them going at it, more that he's not an idiot and he knows more or less what they're doing when they have had sex!
He shrugs his shoulders at the theatre ship comment, his mouth pulling into an uneasy slant. Though Hythlodaeus' hand is rather distracting...]
Well, 'tis merely a thought I've had since being on his, it really is just a matter of optimal performance for a stage and its actors. While we certainly dwarf it, I can scant imagine a proper sword fight playing out with that measily stage it boasts. Can you?
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You said yourself that bigger is not necessarily better. Plenty of exchanges can take place in such an intimate space. Perhaps swords of an... alternate material. As it were.
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