Ampere bent his tall frame forward as he looked with concern at the Miqo'te's choking. Seeing that she had more or less recovered from her drinking mishap, the lancer then blinked in surprise as Elle seemingly refused his reward money, sliding the bag of gil back across the table with the shake of her head.
Was the amount not sufficient? Had she been unable to uphold her end of the bargain after all? Or did this sort of business arrangement simply not sit right with her? As he searched his own mind for a possible answer to her actions, he felt a damp and cold sloshing sensation seep out into his lower half.
Staring down at the beer that has spilled onto his pants, Ampere tilted his head briefly before shrugging and reaching into his satchel for a cloth to wipe his lap with, but in an instant the Miqo'te woman was upon him, desperately dabbing at whatever wet spots she could find with her scarf.
"It's alright, really--" He began to reassure her, when he suddenly caught sight of the large scars that marred her now visible neck.Â
It was apparent he wasn't the only one to hide fragments of the past through bits of clothing.Â
"Old wounds...but bad ones." Ampere murmured quietly, as if he were speaking to himself. Although the Elezen dwarfed the Miqo'te in height, with him sitting down and her standing up to dry him, it was almost as if she were the taller one. This in turn gave him a rather clear view of her neck.
"So you really cannot speak, at all?" He asked in order to confirm his suspicions, while his hand slowly reached out and grasped Elle's wrists, willing for her to stop her actions. The lancer didn't want the scarf to get any more dirty, as he did not doubt that the Miqo'te would be eager to mask her neck again in the same way he had been eager to mask his bracelet before.
As he held her hand in his own, he was reminded of how she had given him her name before.
"...But you can write. Have you ever thought about carrying a quill and parchment around with you? I have some in my satchel, if you'd like." Ampere suggested as his hand reached into his bag. "If you had any questions for me, this could help get the message across better."
And considering how she had refused his gil before the drink spilling incident, and the grievous scars he had just witnessed, the lancer had quite a few questions of his own.
Was the amount not sufficient? Had she been unable to uphold her end of the bargain after all? Or did this sort of business arrangement simply not sit right with her? As he searched his own mind for a possible answer to her actions, he felt a damp and cold sloshing sensation seep out into his lower half.
Staring down at the beer that has spilled onto his pants, Ampere tilted his head briefly before shrugging and reaching into his satchel for a cloth to wipe his lap with, but in an instant the Miqo'te woman was upon him, desperately dabbing at whatever wet spots she could find with her scarf.
"It's alright, really--" He began to reassure her, when he suddenly caught sight of the large scars that marred her now visible neck.Â
It was apparent he wasn't the only one to hide fragments of the past through bits of clothing.Â
"Old wounds...but bad ones." Ampere murmured quietly, as if he were speaking to himself. Although the Elezen dwarfed the Miqo'te in height, with him sitting down and her standing up to dry him, it was almost as if she were the taller one. This in turn gave him a rather clear view of her neck.
"So you really cannot speak, at all?" He asked in order to confirm his suspicions, while his hand slowly reached out and grasped Elle's wrists, willing for her to stop her actions. The lancer didn't want the scarf to get any more dirty, as he did not doubt that the Miqo'te would be eager to mask her neck again in the same way he had been eager to mask his bracelet before.
As he held her hand in his own, he was reminded of how she had given him her name before.
"...But you can write. Have you ever thought about carrying a quill and parchment around with you? I have some in my satchel, if you'd like." Ampere suggested as his hand reached into his bag. "If you had any questions for me, this could help get the message across better."
And considering how she had refused his gil before the drink spilling incident, and the grievous scars he had just witnessed, the lancer had quite a few questions of his own.
