[ She lifts a hand, waving her fingers, and then making a fist as if to symbolize casting a spell.
Whatever she says here, she's no doubt it'll somehow be relayed back to Cid, and vice versa. The two are inseparable. Rem's head lifts, and she turns to look at Benedikta, the smile gone. Compared to the levity with the mermen moments ago, her countenance has completely shifted to something grave. Whatever practice she has in mind will involve quite an uphill experience-- but she is no less determined. Both to succeed and try this way instead. It's this, or she's dead.
She stalls again, debating before telling more. Simply saying that she’ll be doing something a “typical” way already implies there are unconventional means— and even if she hadn’t…
It’s risky enough to tell someone the means by which her class acquires power… but Cid already knows. Besides, it’s already suspicious enough that simply becoming stronger, or rather Rem’s definition of it, involves more than mere, ordinary practice. Ironic that her reluctance to talk, rather than outright lying, gives away too much already. Perhaps this is why her class had orders or execute those who know, or came too close to the truth— to prevent the messiness of guarding and managing such information.
(They’re not in Orience, she reminds herself. She can make exceptions… can’t she?)
And so at length, Rem volunteers: ]
No eidolons. [ A tremble accompanies her breath as she draws it. She clears her throat. ] No souls.
[ There. Now another person knows. Rem waits, watching cautiously for her reaction. ]
no subject
[ She lifts a hand, waving her fingers, and then making a fist as if to symbolize casting a spell.
Whatever she says here, she's no doubt it'll somehow be relayed back to Cid, and vice versa. The two are inseparable. Rem's head lifts, and she turns to look at Benedikta, the smile gone. Compared to the levity with the mermen moments ago, her countenance has completely shifted to something grave. Whatever practice she has in mind will involve quite an uphill experience-- but she is no less determined. Both to succeed and try this way instead. It's this, or she's dead.
She stalls again, debating before telling more. Simply saying that she’ll be doing something a “typical” way already implies there are unconventional means— and even if she hadn’t…
It’s risky enough to tell someone the means by which her class acquires power… but Cid already knows. Besides, it’s already suspicious enough that simply becoming stronger, or rather Rem’s definition of it, involves more than mere, ordinary practice. Ironic that her reluctance to talk, rather than outright lying, gives away too much already. Perhaps this is why her class had orders or execute those who know, or came too close to the truth— to prevent the messiness of guarding and managing such information.
(They’re not in Orience, she reminds herself. She can make exceptions… can’t she?)
And so at length, Rem volunteers: ]
No eidolons. [ A tremble accompanies her breath as she draws it. She clears her throat. ] No souls.
[ There. Now another person knows. Rem waits, watching cautiously for her reaction. ]