[ The stare-down feels like eons even though G'raha realistically knows it's only a matter of seconds. Two men, separated by millennia upon millennia and forced together by fate and circumstance once again.
Though he knows of the Warrior of Light's foray into Elpis, he has little desire to reconcile the man Azem might have known in the Days of Eld with the one who had nearly cost them everything. He can recognize, for a moment, the role that he played in returning G'raha and the other Scions to their physical forms before they faced the Endsinger (or tried to), but he knows well that was their friend's request. There is no honor nor past life shared between them of which to stand any small semblance of comradery.
This man owes him nothing. And, G'raha imagines, must be pleased with the opportunity to rid himself of any other problems.
So when Emet-Selch disappears, G'raha closes his eyes. This is to be his end, is it? ]
...
[ No, he won't let his final act be something so unbecoming. G'raha will accept his death once it serves a purpose. If anything, to spite Emet-Selch is enough reason to keep searching.
He turns on his heels, the water up to his waist now, and wades back over to the cabinets. There ought to be something--a back up! One mechanism to open this door would surely be faulty design. (Surely.)
Yet as he makes his way, G'raha finally notices something murky in the water. He pauses, squinting...as a yawning maw of some torn humanoid face reaches up in hunger before disappearing back into the liquid. ]
By the Twelve!
[ G'raha jumps back, though the movement is dulled by the viscous substance he find himself in.
Did...did Emet-Selch leave him in here with some sort of final...prank? A final "fuck you" of other-worldy terrors? He remembers Emet-Selch's ascended form.
no subject
Though he knows of the Warrior of Light's foray into Elpis, he has little desire to reconcile the man Azem might have known in the Days of Eld with the one who had nearly cost them everything. He can recognize, for a moment, the role that he played in returning G'raha and the other Scions to their physical forms before they faced the Endsinger (or tried to), but he knows well that was their friend's request. There is no honor nor past life shared between them of which to stand any small semblance of comradery.
This man owes him nothing. And, G'raha imagines, must be pleased with the opportunity to rid himself of any other problems.
So when Emet-Selch disappears, G'raha closes his eyes. This is to be his end, is it? ]
...
[ No, he won't let his final act be something so unbecoming. G'raha will accept his death once it serves a purpose. If anything, to spite Emet-Selch is enough reason to keep searching.
He turns on his heels, the water up to his waist now, and wades back over to the cabinets. There ought to be something--a back up! One mechanism to open this door would surely be faulty design. (Surely.)
Yet as he makes his way, G'raha finally notices something murky in the water. He pauses, squinting...as a yawning maw of some torn humanoid face reaches up in hunger before disappearing back into the liquid. ]
By the Twelve!
[ G'raha jumps back, though the movement is dulled by the viscous substance he find himself in.
Did...did Emet-Selch leave him in here with some sort of final...prank? A final "fuck you" of other-worldy terrors? He remembers Emet-Selch's ascended form.
What a jerk. ]