Emet-Selch

💥or 😭

for it.

The Exarch is different, of course. For the simple fact that Emet-Selch respects him as an enemy...there is little other reason for him to be here now, kneeling down next to the man to rest gentle fingers on the crystal.

"Let me see."

Emet-Selch does not make a habit of *mercy*, truly. Not unless it would suit his agenda, and with the Sundered it so rarely does, unless he needs their goodwill. Solus zos Galvus had dispensed it rarely, carefully, and it had made his people love him, but with that shell mostly-shed, he has no use+

((💥or 😢, whichever works better for you. shb era i'm thinking))

((....perhaps. i reserve the right to not reply to ones i don't feel i have the context to adequately play out. Let's Hurt Emet))

((if you want to see my favorite songs off my Emet playlist and why i picked them now's the time))

Quite an evocative image...and of course it is in the star's best interest that you distract me at every hour of the day, that this does not happen? Certainly you receive *nothing* for your charitable efforts...

[He is raising an eyebrow.]

Of course not...perhaps such a restriction would do us all well. Though I am well-aware your motivations are less than pure...

I hardly control the length of our meetings, Hythlodaeus.

Yes, I most certainly do. Stop sending me "fun images" while I am in *Convocation meetings.*

Emet-Selch grumbles to himself - he would much prefer to draw out the time before visiting the moogles for as long as possible - but in the end does not refuse Hythlodaeus, reluctantly sitting up and taking his hand. "If we must," he sighs. "I *do* still expect breakfast before we leave."

to solve *that* particular issue."

He lets out a long sigh. "And yet...perhaps you are right," he allows, more out of a desire to spare Hythlodaeus the further worry than because he truly believes it. "I do dislike leaving a problem unsolved."

he merely turns away from the window and, in a rare moment of undisguised vulnerability, drops his forehead to rest against Hythlodaeus's shoulder.

"You flatter me," he says wearily. "Yet this turmoil is rooted not in the Underworld itself, but in the star's decay...and I can do little +

Emet-Selch lets out a long breath, closing his eyes for a moment against a twist of emotion in his chest. Would that he could believe the words Hythlodaeus so easily offers. Would that he could let his partner's customary cheer drive away the fear, for both Azem and their star itself. Instead +

"Of course not," he mutters under his breath, shaking his head. Well, one cannot say he didn't make an attempt at avoiding his fate. "I'm perfectly capable of 'catching a bit of cheer', when the circumstances permit it. Moogles are not one such circumstance...though you will likely enjoy them."

he murmurs, watching the currents of aether twist and writhe in his vision. "This calamity has thrown it into chaos, and I can do little to soothe it. I fear what consequences such grim tides may bring us."

the skies over Amaurot are dimmed only by an approaching rainstorm, the encroaching doom brings with it the inevitability of fate. He can nearly see the threads of it entangling them now, strangling him.

They will face it, and fight it. They must.

"The aetherial sea is in disarray," +

There is a quiet in the air, heavy enough to be nearly physical, the weight of an oncoming storm. Emet-Selch breathes it in through the apartment's open window, gaze flickering over Amaurot's gleaming spires and glittering streets and seeing little of it.

Azem is still missing, and while +

((might as well post these here too. see if anything comes from it.))

in his gaze. "At the very least it can wait until after breakfast."

If he's lucky, perhaps Hythlodaeus will be distracted by their breakfast...though Emet-Selch doubts whatever other torment he might conceive of would be any better.

Emet-Selch groans the practiced groan of a man who knows he has already lost, yet feels the drive to fight fate anyway. "Moogles," he repeats around a yawn. "What in Zodiark's name *for*?"

He scrubs at his eyes with one hand and squints up at his partner, no small amount of suspicion +

((he deserves to be made fun of for being old.))

(([emet vc] in the days of paradise we didn't use *contacts*. we remembered the aetheric signature of each person we communicated with directly. kids these days and their damned tomestones remembering contacts for them-))

((....he deserves that.))

Is that so...

Looking back upon it all...what would you have done, had you had Venat's foreknowledge to make use of?

((if this is the wrong era to ask questions of dkjfghkjh sorry))

((it *really* is, that's why i primarily use discord for longforms. but yeah. both are options. they may or may not work for you but they usually help me, because usually i just need to Get It Out somewhere))

((alternatively, sometimes i can get the bug out by only writing the first little bit of the scene, which leaves way less to rewrite or edit later))

((oh, i hate writing out of order for this same reason! have you considered sitting down with someone and talking about the scene you really want to write with them, until some of the Urge is gone and you can focus on the actual scene in front of you?))

It is. Thank you.