Naunet

"Worth a look into," Thal tossed out almost casually as he dropped to the ground next to K'ile and tucked his mask into the waistband of his tattered pants. "Definitely better than anything you've come up with so far. So am I gonna have to drag you there?"

That's, uh, not how common ancestry works.

Well yes, of course. What's wrong with having a common ancestor of hundreds of thousands of years ago? That everyone not beast tribe is a "son of Man" suggests some sort of shared ancestry.

Maybe I'm cynical, but to me this reads as: "We totally give you a lot of customization options for your female Au Ra! She doesn't have to be cute and pretty! She can be hot and sexy instead!" Hah, you're not the only one who read it like that.

I am so not creative with swears and anything really out there just sounds really absurd to my ears. >_< At least one of my characters doesn't swear much if at all, but the other one may on occasion... *weeps*

"Finally," Thal sighed out. "There. See? Help. What people, kid? Actually no, let's just get to Ul'dah and quick. Got any of that fancy moving-fast juice left, old man?" That last sentence was muttered as Thal made to slide down after K'ile, in part to make sure the Tia didn't try to bolt.

"So go somewhere else!" Thal threw up his hands. "Plenty of other places in Eorzea. Lots better than beastmen."

Thal made a face at that. "I'm betting you don't know quite as much as you're letting on about them. Heck of a lot better than just running to the Amal'jaa."

Thal straightened his posture, looming above K'ile. In frustration he grabbed at the mask and tore it from his face to glare down towards the Tia. "No divine intervention, friend. You say they won't be interested in helping some unknown tribe? I think they've got plenty of interest in keeping the Amal'jaa out of land that's pretty close to their own people."

"I don't get killed is pretty tough talk for a guy who's lost fights twice now." Thal crossed his arms as well, mirroring K'ile's pose and whipping his tail about.

"You're delusional. And if you get killed? Someone else becomes this," Thal made a face, though it was hidden behind his mask, "Shan'Gai Chah? Gah, and you call me stupid!"

"Doesn't end with--what, you think the slaves the Amal'jaa keep are well-fed and secure?" Thal barked out a laugh and shook his head in disbelief. "I walked through that camp of theirs. They might not've known it, but they were suffering."

Thal groaned and shook his arms in frustration. "I can't just leave you to... ugh." He looked up and muttered to seemingly no one, "Could really use your fancy problem-solving skills about now, old man."

"What's the problem," Thal laughed dubiously. "What's the problem. Really? What's the problem with being tempered! Hah! It's no big deal, just giving yourself over to a primal. Slaves to the Amal'jaa! What could go wrong?"

"Doesn't look like handling it." Thal scoffed. "Handling it involves not handing over people to Amal'jaa. The hell's wrong with you to make that kind of call anyway? You've got no right making that kind of decision for other people!"

"No, you're gonna tell 'em. And kid, don't. Just... stop." Scraped and tanned fingers pulled roughly through strands of red-orange hair. He glared down at K'ile through the holes in his mask. "You can't seriously just want to give up their lives over your dumbass mistake when there's a perfectly good solution right in front of ya?"

Thal groaned at that and pawed at his hair with one hand in frustration. "That was kinda the idea behind talking and, y'know, working it out together. That's too much, huh? Don't wanna work with the dead guy. Ugh." He kicked at a loose rock, sending it skittering down the side of the rockface in a small cloud of dust. "Alright. My solution? Go tell the people who fight those guys for a living that there's gonna be an attack. Get your family some protection. How's that for a dead, stupid guy?"

Thal blinked. "I have... myself? On my side?" He shook his head then, ears fluttering, and lashed his tail against the rock behind him. "Hey! Yeah! We're gonna argue about this. I mean--no! We're not because there's nothing to argue about! You're not gonna give over a bunch of people to be tempered. Just isn't happening."

"I'm listening. Y'know what I'm hearing?" Thal slapped one hand against bare rock. "A buncha wormcrap! 'I'm dooming my whole family, but I'm doing it for them.' Ya know how stupid that sounds?"

"Gah--Alright!" Thal finally released K'ile, but not gently. He pushed the Tia to one side and turned immediately, muscles poised to chase or defend. "Stop with the hitting, okay?? Seems like I'm the only one here who actually gives a damn what's gonna happen to all those people, and I don't even know them!"

Thal nearly lost his grip with one arm when K'ile punched him, and he struggled to resecure it. "Don't go holding stuff against me I don't remember," Thal muttered. "Ugh. Y'wanna talk about being stupid, look at the mess you've made. Did I get to clean up a lot of your messes when I was alive, too? Tell me there's a solution here that doesn't end with a bunch of people dead or enslaved."

"Stop!" Thal barked and spun, dragging K'ile around until the Tia was facing outward away from the rockface and Thal's back was pressed against the rock. "You want to condemn your family?" He snapped roughly. "Or do ya want to cooperate and maybe work out a solution?"

"So you'll hold them ransom." Blue eyes narrowed behind his mask, and he bit back a grunt at K'ile's kicking. One foot shifted and slipped on loose rock, but his bare toes found purchase again. "Y'know, you're not making much of a case for me to keep you alive. You trying to tell me that family of yours would be better off moved somewhere else and with you dead?"

"And if I let you go and you go running to them, what? They all end up slaves. Not gonna happen. So." He jabbed one finger at K'ile's chest. "No, we're not going back 'til I'm satisfied you've got sense in your head."

"You gonna go running to your beastman friends?" Thal was forced to stop his assent to struggle with the Tia, pressing them both against a steep incline.