Whatever it was that he was attempting to do, whether through flirtation, niceties or merely composing himself with greater finesse, it appeared to be working. The man felt a sudden enthusiasm brew within himself as he appeared to discover the 'method'; a way to recover from his follies, at least in the face of this one individual. 'Aurelio'. He had a unique name. It was… Emrik would describe it as masculinely elegant. Whether he truly meant his flirtations or were merely using them as a method to charm this Aurelio, that… that was something he was still deciding himself.
Earn those battle scars…
To those words, the man curled his lips, seemingly lacking in agreement. His gaze narrowed slightly. The question at the tip of his tongue was 'why' -- why did anyone need to battle, to be scarred? A want was one thing. Emrik, for example, wanted to serve the Imperium. His scars were tributes to them, and reminders of his fallibility. Encouragement to do better.
He supposed Aurelio was of a like mind, but in a different way. There was that Synnekar 'bravery' in him; far less reserved and calculated than his Kathar brethren, eager to prove himself, to do right by others. He could see glimpses of that, at least. Somewhere in there.
"One must never over imagine their own limits," he replied, as the other mentioned his colleague's hubris. It very often was this falsely perceived grandeur that led to a warrior's demise. Heroism was so integral to that. Again -- another distinction between the two subsects of their winged kind, their penchant for this heroism. It was infectious among the Synnekar, and frighteningly lethal to them, like a disease. No -- his kind forged themselves through strength alone. Only the best rose to the top. That was how they gained their glory; risk was never wasted.
Emrik hummed faintly as he pondered, before turning over to face the other, meeting his eyes for a moment. Taking a bite of his own rations, stuffing a loaf of bread between his lips for energy, he bit and chew as the other grew more bashful and unresponsive. Now that he had instigated that response, he had no idea of how to handle the aftermath. "Do not worry," he calmly replied. "I am not a man for judgment." That was a lie, though most of his judgments were more akin to observations. He was unfamiliar to much of the range of 'regular' emotion. It had, quite literally, been beaten out of him.
"I'm still contemplating whether I'll go. I have… an old friend in there I promised to meet. Worst of all, if I don't go and see him, my friends at home will all be very angry. Disappointed." Nothing he said there was a lie, though it was distorted, even twisted. He was meeting Lucien to kill him, and his friends at home… that was the Imperium. "The more you speak of these wraiths, though, the more reticent I am to see him. I worry that he might already be dead."
Because he needed proof of contract. How would he get that if the man was buried a thousand stones deep in some barren, surrounded by darkness? He would either need to make an excuse and hope for the best, or go in there. Neither seemed promising. "I suppose I can mull it over. I could always meet him outside of the entrance, anyhow, to deliver my regards… if he never shows, then I will know what has occurred." He glanced towards the Synnekar, sighing softly. "Do you intend to wait with me? If you must go, I understand. If not… perhaps I might appreciate the company."
Earn those battle scars…
To those words, the man curled his lips, seemingly lacking in agreement. His gaze narrowed slightly. The question at the tip of his tongue was 'why' -- why did anyone need to battle, to be scarred? A want was one thing. Emrik, for example, wanted to serve the Imperium. His scars were tributes to them, and reminders of his fallibility. Encouragement to do better.
He supposed Aurelio was of a like mind, but in a different way. There was that Synnekar 'bravery' in him; far less reserved and calculated than his Kathar brethren, eager to prove himself, to do right by others. He could see glimpses of that, at least. Somewhere in there.
"One must never over imagine their own limits," he replied, as the other mentioned his colleague's hubris. It very often was this falsely perceived grandeur that led to a warrior's demise. Heroism was so integral to that. Again -- another distinction between the two subsects of their winged kind, their penchant for this heroism. It was infectious among the Synnekar, and frighteningly lethal to them, like a disease. No -- his kind forged themselves through strength alone. Only the best rose to the top. That was how they gained their glory; risk was never wasted.
Emrik hummed faintly as he pondered, before turning over to face the other, meeting his eyes for a moment. Taking a bite of his own rations, stuffing a loaf of bread between his lips for energy, he bit and chew as the other grew more bashful and unresponsive. Now that he had instigated that response, he had no idea of how to handle the aftermath. "Do not worry," he calmly replied. "I am not a man for judgment." That was a lie, though most of his judgments were more akin to observations. He was unfamiliar to much of the range of 'regular' emotion. It had, quite literally, been beaten out of him.
"I'm still contemplating whether I'll go. I have… an old friend in there I promised to meet. Worst of all, if I don't go and see him, my friends at home will all be very angry. Disappointed." Nothing he said there was a lie, though it was distorted, even twisted. He was meeting Lucien to kill him, and his friends at home… that was the Imperium. "The more you speak of these wraiths, though, the more reticent I am to see him. I worry that he might already be dead."
Because he needed proof of contract. How would he get that if the man was buried a thousand stones deep in some barren, surrounded by darkness? He would either need to make an excuse and hope for the best, or go in there. Neither seemed promising. "I suppose I can mull it over. I could always meet him outside of the entrance, anyhow, to deliver my regards… if he never shows, then I will know what has occurred." He glanced towards the Synnekar, sighing softly. "Do you intend to wait with me? If you must go, I understand. If not… perhaps I might appreciate the company."
