eachdraidh | [video / both courts]

[recruitment time. he'd assume that the majority of the fight-y types here are busy with that whole moon situation, but surely they'll have a moment to glance at the lockets at some point. no matter how dire the situation it, he doubts it's non-stop fighting for days on end. in the image shown over the lockets, saralegui smiles sweetly, playing up his own harmless appearance for this matter.]

I'm looking for a bit of assistance. Or at least, anyone who'd consider themselves fairly strong and are interested in taking a little trip.

[there's no chance he can get away with saying absolutely nothing about his destination or goals, if he wants to keep to that innocent "in need of help" image. so instead, he sticks to the bare minimum, in that pleasant and open manner of his that hides away any sign of withheld information.]

I need to go visit Troichean Beinn. I've already found a guide, of sorts, but it'd be nice to have some protection as well, both from the general dangers of traveling and whatever threats the city itself might pose. You can consider it a temporary guard job, but honestly, I'd also just appreciate the additional company.

[for once, he's being entirely sincere. he's only had one conversation with red, but he's sure he'll end up murdering the man himself if stuck alone with him for several weeks.]

It's a chance to see a bit more of this world and I know that, new as some of you are, that might be a very desirable opportunity. But if additional compensation is needed, I have some funds that I can dip into for payment. Let me know if you're interested.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[good thing you made this private. it means he can openly scowl in response.]

Did you really respond just to say no? I wasn't even asking you.

[Raising one eyebrow—]

Is small talk dead, kinglet?

[Dry. Arid.]

You have an odd idea of small talk. Exactly how much conversation did you think you'd get out of "gods no"?

[if this was meant to be an attempt at making up, he's clearly not seeing it.]

Ha. How much? [He stows his pencil behind his ear, tongue drooping from his mouth.] I don't know. You and I could have started reminiscing about our fucking miserable jaunt down to Treun. You could have changed the subject. Asked which gods. Asked why no.

You're overly defensive. If I'd wanted to insult you—I am a sailor. You'd know. [He hisses, showing his teeth in what isn't really a smile.] Fair winds. Following sea. Have fun and don't fuck up. Is this your favour to Tzilan?

[—that is apparently what he's actually here to inquire about, yes.]

[he scoffs, rolling his eyes.]

And you're overly negative. I thought our trip to Treun was fairly nice, and decently successful.

[sure, your friend died and all, but you haven't really encouraged any sympathy from him lately.]

But yes, it is. Do you have a problem with that?

[His face stills into an expression of monumental flatness.

Voice quite calm and very cold:]

You got what you wanted. I'm glad. But I would believe in you as a potential ruler so much more if you'd make your respect for the dead and the mourning and the simply surviving a little less conditional on people tonguing your boots.

[THIS OLIVE BRANCH HAS GONE TERRIBLY WRONG]

Death loses its impact a little when the deceased is still conscious and functioning afterwards.

[and he's never been especially kind-hearted to begin with. whatever sincere gentleness he might have once had withered quickly, poorly nurtured under exposure to so many cold shoulders.

unmoved, he simply frowns at the vampire and tucks an errant lock of hair back over his shoulder.]

Tell me, what's the point in me trying to make a good impression on you? You don't even respect me as an adult, much as a ruler.

Because you act like neither, no—

[He hisses in a breath, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Furious at himself for even caring enough to chide.]

No, you act like a particularly malignant strain of both. You are spiteful.

[he won't deny it.]

And you're one of the very few people that have had to learn that. Perhaps you should not have earned my spite.

[to be fair, plenty of people earn it. but not many are also in a situation where he can so openly display it.]

It's not my job to lick your boots so you'll stay calm. But I wouldn't give a shit if you weren't in line to become a king.

You can be cruel with dignity and consistency. But temper your spite, because it's capricious. It makes you look weak.

[son this was the shittiest olive branch in history.]

Was there a point to speaking up in the first place, beyond picking a fight?

[video / both courts]

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