[ he wasn't attached, no, except to his plants — and he does mourn them, at least for a bit... but he can get others. he can grow more. it'll be fine.
with a tired but quite genuinely relieved sigh, ] Good.
[ and then, accompanied by a raised brow, ] So you decided to drop down here on your own? [ well. he'd call that superstitious, except after everything that's happened, it's not even an unreasonable assumption. ]
It's [ hold on, he's pausing to yawn, ] good of you to help people. They do need it.
[Semantics— that's a yes, and while the islands haven't dropped from the sky yet, he remains certain that they would have if! he'd stayed up there. This particular paranoia doesn't have to follow any logic whatsoever.
As for helping the needy, well...] Yes, they do, don't they.
[Pointed; people is you, Remi. People is you. And, like, the rest of this entire city, but the point stands.]
Normally the hungry public come to me, and honestly, walking around about it has been markedly fucking awful, but it is the same as it ever was.
[ his wry tone is back, which means he can't be doing too badly — which, hm, he hears that pointed tone that follows, too, and sighs about it. ] I'm fine. Just tired. My body just needs to adjust.
[ to what? he's not elaborating; instead, he leans his chin on his hand and looks at oleander, almost contemplatively. ]
You talked about acolytes, [ he says, remembering the reference oleander had made when they were watching the bird. ] Are you a priest of some sort? You don't seem the type.
[Oleander continues to look at him pointedly, like, indeed: adjust to what? To being homeless and tired? Good luck.
Then he faux-gasps and leans back a little, hand over his chest, so affronted.]
Rude. [lol. lmao even. he waves his hand.] I was given to the Temple as a baby. I stayed on for my own reasons, when I was old enough to have any.
[He holds up an arm and flicks one of his bangles, making it spin for a second. There are many, but three of them are visibly A Set in gold, hence,] Third Envoy, which means nothing at all to you, so you can be content with the knowledge that I am, among other things, a religious scholar. Quite so.
[ what if it is being homeless and tired, what then!
that display of mock-affront simply earns another look from him, head cocked to the side, one eyebrow pointedly raised. but alright, yes, he can understand it, somewhat... and he makes a point to remember the fact oleander cites his own reasons, there, unexplained for now — but maybe he'll return to that, eventually.
in the here and now, though, ]
Hm, I can see that, I suppose. You, a scholar, that is.
[ a pause, and then he tilts back, to simply lie down on that pile of rubble, heedless of the dust and the discomfort. still, he keeps talking, ] You could explain. What Third Envoy means. If you want. [ he sighs. ] The fact that the Gods in my world are useless doesn't mean your God or Goddess is. I hope they're a good one.
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with a tired but quite genuinely relieved sigh, ] Good.
[ and then, accompanied by a raised brow, ] So you decided to drop down here on your own? [ well. he'd call that superstitious, except after everything that's happened, it's not even an unreasonable assumption. ]
It's [ hold on, he's pausing to yawn, ] good of you to help people. They do need it.
no subject
[Semantics— that's a yes, and while the islands haven't dropped from the sky yet, he remains certain that they would have if! he'd stayed up there. This particular paranoia doesn't have to follow any logic whatsoever.
As for helping the needy, well...] Yes, they do, don't they.
[Pointed; people is you, Remi. People is you. And, like, the rest of this entire city, but the point stands.]
Normally the hungry public come to me, and honestly, walking around about it has been markedly fucking awful, but it is the same as it ever was.
no subject
[ his wry tone is back, which means he can't be doing too badly — which, hm, he hears that pointed tone that follows, too, and sighs about it. ] I'm fine. Just tired. My body just needs to adjust.
[ to what? he's not elaborating; instead, he leans his chin on his hand and looks at oleander, almost contemplatively. ]
You talked about acolytes, [ he says, remembering the reference oleander had made when they were watching the bird. ] Are you a priest of some sort? You don't seem the type.
no subject
Then he faux-gasps and leans back a little, hand over his chest, so affronted.]
Rude. [lol. lmao even. he waves his hand.] I was given to the Temple as a baby. I stayed on for my own reasons, when I was old enough to have any.
[He holds up an arm and flicks one of his bangles, making it spin for a second. There are many, but three of them are visibly A Set in gold, hence,] Third Envoy, which means nothing at all to you, so you can be content with the knowledge that I am, among other things, a religious scholar. Quite so.
no subject
that display of mock-affront simply earns another look from him, head cocked to the side, one eyebrow pointedly raised. but alright, yes, he can understand it, somewhat... and he makes a point to remember the fact oleander cites his own reasons, there, unexplained for now — but maybe he'll return to that, eventually.
in the here and now, though, ]
Hm, I can see that, I suppose. You, a scholar, that is.
[ a pause, and then he tilts back, to simply lie down on that pile of rubble, heedless of the dust and the discomfort. still, he keeps talking, ] You could explain. What Third Envoy means. If you want. [ he sighs. ] The fact that the Gods in my world are useless doesn't mean your God or Goddess is. I hope they're a good one.