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[ She sure is intimidated! And it only serves to make her shirk. Rem tucks her chin downward, as it's difficult not to feel small in his presence.

"No, of course not! You will convince yourself that it can yield knowledge that would only be beneficial to mankind, ignoring the harm it has already done and is capable of doing. Because man's hubris is as endless as the sea of stars and as much of a void. Because you are incapable of reigning in your own impulses despite your better judgement. Because, whenever you learn something new, the first thing that happens is you develop new weapons to use against your enemy!

So don't give me some trite promise about never using this thing for evil. Don't lie to me about your intentions. I want you to tell me what you really want it for before I decide whether I agree or not."

Also difficult not to take that personally, as she is part of that very same mankind, the same group he's assuming this evil of.

A part of her can realize that he's being cautious, that he's seen such things happen, that he doesn't want another magical artifact being used for evil. And so she breathes in quietly, trying to quell her emotions. ]

I'm... not sure I can. I'm not sure you would understand.

[ He makes an impatient sound. Stops trying to loom over her and crosses his arms, glancing away. Some things about him don't change and his belligerent manner is one of those. ]

You took the trouble to listen to my self-pitying backstory. I can at least listen to your reasoning for this matter.

Edited 2024-03-22 22:58 (UTC)

[ There's a tug of her frown, there, as he calls one of their previous conversations "self-pitying". He's rather cruel to himself, she finds. Asking him to be kinder to himself seems like a tall order in this moment, but she wishes she could at least suggest it.

He's also a being far more powerful and older than herself. ]

No, I mean... You're immortal. I'm mortal. That's how you wouldn't understand.

[ He makes a frustrated sound, throwing up his hands. Spins away to pace a few steps and then paces right back. Takes a few deep breaths while pinching the bridge of his nose. ]

I-- I apologise for snapping at you, alright? I have never been good at holding my tongue. Particularly under stress. I know I have a low opinion of mortals even on the best of days but I still always tried to at least give them a chance to explain themselves.

So, believe me when I am telling you that I wish to hear your explanation.

[ His gaze avoids hers. He appears tense but trying very hard to tamp down his own irritation for her sake. ]

[ She can't meet his gaze-- not initially, but the apology gets her to look back at him, albeit briefly. Uncertainty remains written upon both her features and posture, and she favors her bottom lip. So used to showing deference to the immortals of her world, it's ingrained in her to both fear and revere any of them. ]

I... [ Does she try to explain herself? A part of her desperately wants someone to understand-- to be on her side, the way she'd have her classmates back in her world. Another part of her wants to protect herself from judgment.

Her eyes turn back to him, then away, and then shut tightly. Now is not the time to seem small, but that's all she feels. Like a people upon the shore, ready to be washed beneath the current. She coughs once into her hand. ]

I want to become stronger. And I want... to live. Using the altar-- if I modified its purpose-- could have helped with that.

What do you mean, 'you want to live'? You're already alive, aren't you?

[ He frowns at her, trying to understand. ]

Is this related to why you were so interested in that tombstone as well?

[ Her gaze snaps to him, then away-- a telltale sign that he's pretty much guessed correctly. Researching the tombstone might have helped with other things, namely, solving more of this world's mysteries, but for her purposes... She's only ever been trying to survive. To survive and to become stronger, to protect those she cares about.

The tombstone failed. The altar is a no-go. She found a chalice and-- that, too, failed. It's been a frustrating half a year's worth of work. ]

I'm mortal. [ She states, simply, but her voice is strained. Mortals' lives are short and they are weak, but that shouldn't be a surprise to him. She draws a breath, watching him as he appears to puzzle her words out. ] ...And I'm sick.

[ His brow only furrows more deeply. She is sick... Well, that isn't an unusual motivation. ]

A terminal illness? You want to prolong your life, then? Wouldn't seeking a healer be more beneficial than an artefact of necromancy or death?

[ There must be a reason why she needs that sort of item specifically, he just can't think of it. She's alive, not dead. Right? ]

I've...--I've tried. [ She's doing her best to keep the frustration out of her voice, as it's not directed towards him. But she's tired-- exhausted, even-- and she's without many options. Time is ticking.

She isn't giving up. She refuses to give up. ] I've been to almost every healer I could find. [ At least the ones she can afford; and for the ones that she can't, well. That's why she's a corsair, and the quests rewards are handsome. She can save what she can. ] But I didn't want the altar or the tombstone for, um, something like necromancy. [ How does she explain this? ] I needed it because how it's built. [ Infastructure, for lack of better term. ] It's a powerful object and-- I need...something like that.

What, exactly, is wrong with you? If 'tis something related to the soul then I can perceive it if you will allow me to look.

[ He hasn't tried to look closely. He can identify the particular tint of everyone on their ship but peering further would be rude. ]

Nothing's wrong with my soul. [ She says suddenly, stubbornly, only to immediately afterwards appear regretful for the tone. Exhaustion and frustration have a way of shortening the patience of anyone, herself included, and she's well aware of how she sounds. He doesn't deserve it.

So she draws in a breath, fighting against the feeling of glass within her lungs to even out her voice, and calms. ]

I'm sorry. It's-- I don't know, an illness I've had since I was young. A mutant malboro attacked the village, and since then... [ A weak shrug. (Nevermind that the only other survivor of the attack didn't get this very same "illness".) ]

But you... want to help me?

Yes, I do.

[ And when Emet-Selch states something so clearly as that, one can take it at face value. ]

Unless you would rather fumble along on your own? I'm frequently reminded that cooperation has always led to better outcomes for those involved.

[ Cooperation-- right. She's certain that she's said it to him before, too. But with something like this, something so personal, she's been hesitant to seek help. Especially if it would make others worry.

...Is Emet worried, she wonders. Could he deign to care about the fate of a mortal? ]

Then... I need help building or-- or finding something. Something magical... and strong enough to-- [ She hesitates, thinking back to the first time they met. After another moment, she allows, continuing: ] ...to hold souls.

[ He cocks his head, brow furrowing. That's it? ]

...There is a stone in my world known as auracite. A large enough piece of white auracite can be used to contain even my immense soul. Is that really all you require?

[ This sounds far too simple. ]

[ Her eyes widen. So he knows of something like it, and from it sounds like, it doesn't seem as if this "auracite" is... uncommon?

To her, it's anything but; and that this point she doesn't care. ] Ye- yes. Or, ah, it would be a start.

[ There's another pause as her expression settles, but now that she knows there is something he might be able to provide for her, if there is a chance of somehow finding something similar in this world-- then she has a chance. And because of that, it makes it easier to talk. ]

But is there such a thing here? Auracite, I mean?

No. I would have to make it.

[ ...By using his magic or powers of creation. The latter of which isn't available to him. But...he seems to remember that there is a way to regain possessions and abilities lost to them. ]

Give me some time to investigate. When I have it, we shall see if it resolves your problem.

Edited 2024-05-08 18:02 (UTC)

[ Her eyes widen further. ] Create--- [ It's a whisper, equal part of disbelief and relief.

One would think that this sort of feat wouldn't come as a surprise, given what she knows of him, but it nonetheless does. It's difficult for someone such as she to comprehend the true extent of the powers belonging to someone like him. ]

...I'll repay you. [ She says slowly at first, but the tempo of her words pick up by the end ] I don't know how, but I will. Promise.

[ He lifts a shoulder in a shrug. Crosses his arms and glances away with a frown. Embarrassed by the gratitude, as usual. ]

Yes, well, we can speak of repayment and debt or what have you if I can actually create the thing. I currently lack my creation magicks but I hear there is a way to regain that which has been lost.

[ Having grown so used to living amongst mortals, those godlike powers hadn't felt very necessary in day-to-day life. ]

[ A few moments of silence passes as Rem casts her gaze down, a hand lifting to her chest. She curls her fingers against the clasp of her cloak, closing her eyes.

How many times has she been cautioned by others to temper her hope? Countless. But this possibility of receiving help-- of finding something she can use-- instills warmth within her chest, fragile, precarious, but present in a way it hadn't been there before, replacing the feeling of glass that comes with breathing. ]

It's incredible that you have that power, regardless. I can't even fathom-- ah.

[ She needs to live. She needs to become stronger, and to do that, she needs something that can house souls-- ]

Even if you don't regain it, Emet-Selch... still, thank you. Thank you for offering. [ SHE'S GETTING EMOTIONAL. She's so touched! And she doesn't want to embarrass herself in front of him, so she simply keeps her head bowed. ]

[ Oh, gods, don't start crying, Rem. He can't deal with this emotional gratitude. ]

Don't-- Don't. This world saw fit to strip me of that power when it brought me here. I cannot guarantee I can get it back. Do not put your hopes in me.

[ He hates the twisting feeling in his gut. He hates disappointing others. Someone like him is not supposed to be inspiring hope in anyone and he doesn't know how he'll break the news to her if he can't live up to it. ]

Haven't you ever heard of the phrase 'it's the thought that counts'...? [ Rem smiles, but shakes her head. Even if he doesn't create-- what is it called? aurcite?-- for her, she's grateful that he tried.

After months of failure to find something suitable on her own, she needs some sort of hope, even if may not come to fruition. ] A-anyway. I should get going.

[ YES BECAUSE. Someone caring is that moving and she's an emotional bean. ]

[ He nods stiffly. The uncomfortable feeling in his gut persists. Now he really doesn't want to disappoint her. ]

Aye. I'll let you know if I'm successful or not.

[ ...And in his usual brusque manner, he walks off. ]

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