What an interesting sensation. Elidibus had expected more discomfort and awkwardness, yet this... becomes easier the longer it happens. 'Bond or mortal instinct? A lingering sense of unease but overall positive.' is written down.
As Lahabrea begins to explain the sensation from his end, Elidibus notes the rise and fall of the Ascian's emotional state. The frequency of the shifts in the dragon's condition gives ample material from which to separate surface emotions from the undercurrent of dragonish 'being' the Speaker fights against. At the same time, recognizing the two as individual forces is... incorrect? The Emissary's brow furrows as he dwells on the matter. Was it perhaps true then, that Lahabrea is fighting against what is fundamentally his own nature?
The spikes in temperature, the struggle with eloquence, these are certainly noticed. And Elidibus skips Lahabrea's shoulder and goes to the neck. It's less thorough and more practiced. He wouldn't ever admit that he's been practicing on the amaro but...
Try to calm, attempt to soothe. See if the distress and spikes of anger are minimized. "Try to relax a little more, now the contact seems to be showing signs of aiding you."
In turn, the small attentions Lahabrea gives in return seem to have a relaxing effect on Elidibus's host, for all finding an emotional response is... well.
The pen stills. There's no tapping on the page or any other thoughtful or agitated gesture. Yet it's the only clear sign that Elidibus is taking heed to Lahabrea's words. No. There's a flutter of something that stirs underneath the lack of feeling but hard to define. He is, after all, keeping himself free of what little emotion he has. But there are some answers he can give.
"There is no room for joy or happiness whilst our God fractured, our peoples' souls scattered," he answers without any sign of remorse. It is, to Elidibus, a matter of fact. "Fear... Perhaps once, a long time ago." Beyond a time he can recall. "Fear is a weapon I refuse to let our enemies use against me. Pain. I am slowly learning what the various discomforts of this mortal form mean." Ah, but is that what Lahabrea means by pain?
Rage and sorrow. He knows those. Elidibus had never looked up until then. Not toward Lahabrea but to some point outside the cage. The Emissary closes his eyes and invokes an image. His variation of the Source. His Warrior of Light and the memory of learning... seeing Emet-Selch's confrontation and fall. It does invoke a low boil of something like rage.
Distant, partially detached. In Lahabrea's analogy, it would be a wind strong enough to rattle the sheet of glass keeping him separate from the experience. But wholly belonging to the Ascian. "I know rage," he offers with quiet intensity. "And I think.. sorrow." The rage doesn't last long. Without the real, physical presence of what he invokes, emotions really don't last long.
But then whether it's Elidibus's own efforts to keep an emotionless state or the touch of the taloned finger brushing along his short hair.
"I would not be against effort on your part to try, Lahabrea," Elidibus has returned to a normal state and continues to write with the pen to catch up on his notes. "It would be beneficial to know. Would you rather I make an effort to resist or simply allow its natural course?"
no subject
As Lahabrea begins to explain the sensation from his end, Elidibus notes the rise and fall of the Ascian's emotional state. The frequency of the shifts in the dragon's condition gives ample material from which to separate surface emotions from the undercurrent of dragonish 'being' the Speaker fights against. At the same time, recognizing the two as individual forces is... incorrect? The Emissary's brow furrows as he dwells on the matter. Was it perhaps true then, that Lahabrea is fighting against what is fundamentally his own nature?
The spikes in temperature, the struggle with eloquence, these are certainly noticed. And Elidibus skips Lahabrea's shoulder and goes to the neck. It's less thorough and more practiced. He wouldn't ever admit that he's been practicing on the amaro but...
Try to calm, attempt to soothe. See if the distress and spikes of anger are minimized. "Try to relax a little more, now the contact seems to be showing signs of aiding you."
In turn, the small attentions Lahabrea gives in return seem to have a relaxing effect on Elidibus's host, for all finding an emotional response is... well.
The pen stills. There's no tapping on the page or any other thoughtful or agitated gesture. Yet it's the only clear sign that Elidibus is taking heed to Lahabrea's words. No. There's a flutter of something that stirs underneath the lack of feeling but hard to define. He is, after all, keeping himself free of what little emotion he has. But there are some answers he can give.
"There is no room for joy or happiness whilst our God fractured, our peoples' souls scattered," he answers without any sign of remorse. It is, to Elidibus, a matter of fact. "Fear... Perhaps once, a long time ago." Beyond a time he can recall. "Fear is a weapon I refuse to let our enemies use against me. Pain. I am slowly learning what the various discomforts of this mortal form mean." Ah, but is that what Lahabrea means by pain?
Rage and sorrow. He knows those. Elidibus had never looked up until then. Not toward Lahabrea but to some point outside the cage. The Emissary closes his eyes and invokes an image. His variation of the Source. His Warrior of Light and the memory of learning... seeing Emet-Selch's confrontation and fall. It does invoke a low boil of something like rage.
Distant, partially detached. In Lahabrea's analogy, it would be a wind strong enough to rattle the sheet of glass keeping him separate from the experience. But wholly belonging to the Ascian. "I know rage," he offers with quiet intensity. "And I think.. sorrow." The rage doesn't last long. Without the real, physical presence of what he invokes, emotions really don't last long.
But then whether it's Elidibus's own efforts to keep an emotionless state or the touch of the taloned finger brushing along his short hair.
"I would not be against effort on your part to try, Lahabrea," Elidibus has returned to a normal state and continues to write with the pen to catch up on his notes. "It would be beneficial to know. Would you rather I make an effort to resist or simply allow its natural course?"