@BangoSkank @Esailia kinda
@NagariinZeke continued to watch and listen. Already their group was falling to pieces. He considered the chances for their expedition to last, and evaluated what had gone wrong. There had been two instances of disarray, one about authority and one regarding this Crimson Marauder. Both had been caused by the Mithra.
Admittedly, the first disagreement was inevitable, and she happened to be the one to place herself in the middle of it. Though the situation could have been handled better, he didn't fault Esailia for her efforts; however, in context with her recent outburst, Zeke wondered if he should. While he couldn't personally say that he understood what it felt like to lose someone, he did know that keeping one's composure was an ability that any trained soldier, such as Esailia, should possess.
But what baffled him was why the half-elf would continue to provoke her. As he listened, Zeke had to make an increasing effort to maintain a straight face. Who was he to tell her - or anyone - that she didn't know what it was like? Sharing a body with another being? He wanted to say,
'Try multiple.' He wanted to say,
'Try being me, I've spent my entire life trying to enforce my dominance over ceaseless chattering voices. Suppressing them, controlling them, subverting them to my will - do you know what it's like? Do you truly know what it's like to stand in the water and hold your hands out to the ocean and try to keep back the waves? And all the while the tide pulls you in until you can't tell where you are or what you're fighting against? Do you know? And then as you struggle to stay afloat people say that the sea you're drowning in isn't real, that you just need to calm down. Get a grip. Get a grip on what? I am drowning and all you can do is tell me to get a grip on nothing.'What a hypocrite Zeke was.
He clenched his fist and bit his tongue till it bled. Foolish. He gave himself three deep breaths, and then he would be calm. He couldn't let something such as this control his emotions. One.
I am fine. Two.
I am in command. Three.
I can grip anything, even nothing.Zeke licked his lips to rid himself of the taste of blood. It was still there. He sighed heavily into his sleeve as he wiped away the wetness in his eyes. He was still angry, but now he had burned himself out and he was more tired than anything. He would let Numzom know his thoughts, but later. Now was not the right time.
Still, he glanced to Esailia, storming toward the hill. She was bound to be sore that someone defended her mother's murderer but not her, so for her sake he finally took action. Zeke stepped forward and tapped the half-elf's shoulder once lightly.
"Pardon, sir," he said in a low and firm voice, his tone lacking the respect of the words,
"but I request that you... stop talking. Perhaps it's true that she doesn't understand your or the Crimson Marauder's predicaments, but we don't know hers either. We all have our share of tragedies, but we shouldn't place one above the other. And whatever the issue is, it's between those two. It's best for all parties that we stay out of their business. Hm? Thank you."Without waiting for a response, Zeke briskly strode away. He did not care for a conversation with Numzom. He examined the wagon and the destroyed provisions crate, making sure everything was still secure. He doubted anyone else would.
"I hope the food supplies are still intact," he mentioned jokingly to Shel,
"otherwise we'll have another quarrel."