For the average citizen, there are many essential social skills that one would do well to learn thoroughly. Among those essential skills are knowing how to ask questions, knowing how to appear interested, and perhaps most importantly, knowing when to disengage from a conversation that can never go in a positive direction.
There are several clear indications as to when the aforementioned conversational direction is crashing harder than an airship made entirely of smelly cheese and wishful thinking. One such indication, one that had unfortunately passed over Nero's head like a gentle breeze passes over the face of a cheerful baby, was his first mate Daegsatz Traggblansyn responding to Nero's initial question with the comment "Lad, that be racist."
"I'm not being racist!" the Hyur said, puffing out his chest indignantly.
"Nay, yer bein' racist," Daegsatz replied. "What ye jes' said be th' epitome o' racism, an' a microcosm o' society's ignorance that we all mus' contend with an' conquer in order t' secure a prosperous an' more equal future fer all." The Roegadyn's elaborate statement--his thick Lominsan accent contrasting heavily with his unnecessarily flowery vocabulary--was punctuated by the hull of the Second Forte smashing through a small wave; an accurate visual representation of the current debate as the frigate cut through the Strait of Merlthor.
"Oh come on, Satz, that's like saying Lalafell are short. That's not racist or ignorant, it's an objective observation about the physical aspects of a race of people!" Nero waved his arms as if such a wild and irrelevant gesture illustrated his point with greater clarity. "Would I want a Lalafell to be a bouncer at a tavern, or to haul granite to build a castle? No, and that's not because of racism. It's because on an objective level, Lalafell are less physically capable than the other races!" Daegsatz snorted disdainfully.
"Ye hear yerself? That sentence there. 'Lalafell be less phys'cally capable than th' other races'. That be racism. An' even then, what if th' pint bouncer be a thaumaturge?" The Sea Wolf questioned, his eyes narrowing and his arms now folded across his chest. Nero's icy blue eyes nearly rolled straight out of his head and into the blue-green ocean below.
"A Lalafell who can manifest aether into the form of destructive energy that can obliterate his enemies is still a Lalafell that I can punt. With my foot. A foot covered in a boot. A boot that may or may not have metal on it." The Hyur jabbed an index finger at his legs, apparently under the impression that a tangible representation of generic footwear would lend additional credence to his argument.
"Th' point ain't whether o' not ye can or can't punt a pint, lad, the point is yer denyin' a perfectly capable indiv'dual a certain profession 'cause o' 'is species," Daegsatz sniffed. "And that be racism,"
"Satz, you can't refer to them as a species and then call it racism! Your inconsistent terminology is clouding the issue. It'd be speciesism!" Nero argued. His evident failure to come up with a logical counter argument lead to him attempting to divert the course of the conversation in his favour with a frivolous correction of the Roegadyn's choice of words.
"Racism, speciesism, it all be th' same word for discrim'nation! And discrim'natin' be exactly what yer doin' wit' that fool question ye be askin'." Daegsatz growled, the features of his block-shaped face scrunching together in collective irritation.
"I wasn't discriminating!" Nero sighed. As he began to speak, his rate of speech accelerated and his tone gradually grew more indignant. "Look, it's not as if I had a full, current line of potential candidates to be my potential chef, and I was explicitly denying one of them the position because of their species--"Â
"'Cept," the Sea Wolf interrupted, "that that pacifically be the point o' yer question that be startin' this mess. 'Why would anyone hire a Miqo'te chef if they might shed fur in th' food?'" Daegsatz' quote of the Hyur's decidedly ignorant question was mockingly accompanied with a lilting, whiny tone and upwards inflection. If the Roegadyn's normal voice sounded like someone rubbing two rocks together in a fashion that suggested complete illiteracy in the skill of firestarting, then Daegsatz' imitation of his captain sounded like someone taking two boulders and dropping them on a fully manned string orchestra.
The Roegadyn snorted. "That's not ev'n considerin' th' fact that fer one, catfolk only have fur in th' ears and tail, and that two, Hyur an' Elezen and Roegadyn and Lalafell also need ta worry 'bout sheddin' hair into food. So in conclusion, unless a catfolk be cookin' with their tails 'stead o' their hands, yer question be comprised of a completely flawed an' still racist premise t' begin with."
Nero clapped his hands together in front of his face and audibly inhaled. "First, Satz, it's 'specifically'. Not 'pacifically'. 'Specifically'." It was seemingly Nero's hope that the infamous and ever-reliable "mundane and trifling grammar correction" debate strategy worked on the second attempt.
"Oh, now yer jes bein' petty," The Sea Wolf scoffed. Clearly, it didn't.
"Shut up. And second, never in my question did I state that nobody should hire a Miqo'te chef or that Miqo'te are somehow inherently less skilled at cooking at other species, just that a Miqo'te as a chef might pose more problems because by nature, they have more hair and a furry tail, in the same way that a Lalafell chef would need a box or several in order to properly reach the appropriate level of a stove." The random movement of Nero's arms ceased to resemble waving and became more closely associated with the term "flailing".
"Th' way ye phrased th' question made the implication that a potential employer should discrim'nate against catfolk, which be speciesism," Daegsatz insisted. "Followin' yer logic, a Sea Wolf ship would nev'r consider takin' on a spindly pink Hyur like y'self, because regardless o' the Hyur's personal skill outside of th' limitations of 'is species, Â 'e would lack the phys'cal and racial inclination fer sailin' that a Roegadyn'd have." He glared out of one eye at the Midlander, apparently content that his point had made itself.
Nero remained silent before despondently lumping himself on the railing of the ship, allowing himself to be slapped in the face with sea spray as if the ocean itself were sneering at him.
"Fine, fine, I worded it poorly, but I think my point still stands," Nero muttered sulkily, brushing a hand to wipe the seawater off his face. Now it was Daegsatz' turn to sigh and roll his eyes. "Lad, Cap'n Vail might o' raised ye into th' fine an' respectable man ye be today, but yer still childish in so many ways," the Roegadyn said, rebuking Nero in the same way an exasperated pet owner might reprimand a puppy that had been found with blood in its teeth for the fourth day in a row.
Silence fell upon the pair as the frigate gently pushed its way through the waves, the Roegadyn occasionally barking orders in lieu of his captain ostensibly having some kind of disabling mental epiphany that combined the subjects of his intellect, the nature of racial inequality, and the current state of dinner. Daegsatz' tranquility over not having to humour his captain's petty arguments was broken when Nero lifted his head and stared sedately at the bow of the ship.
"Do you think Elezen became so tall because they kept trying to hug big trees?"
There are several clear indications as to when the aforementioned conversational direction is crashing harder than an airship made entirely of smelly cheese and wishful thinking. One such indication, one that had unfortunately passed over Nero's head like a gentle breeze passes over the face of a cheerful baby, was his first mate Daegsatz Traggblansyn responding to Nero's initial question with the comment "Lad, that be racist."
"I'm not being racist!" the Hyur said, puffing out his chest indignantly.
"Nay, yer bein' racist," Daegsatz replied. "What ye jes' said be th' epitome o' racism, an' a microcosm o' society's ignorance that we all mus' contend with an' conquer in order t' secure a prosperous an' more equal future fer all." The Roegadyn's elaborate statement--his thick Lominsan accent contrasting heavily with his unnecessarily flowery vocabulary--was punctuated by the hull of the Second Forte smashing through a small wave; an accurate visual representation of the current debate as the frigate cut through the Strait of Merlthor.
"Oh come on, Satz, that's like saying Lalafell are short. That's not racist or ignorant, it's an objective observation about the physical aspects of a race of people!" Nero waved his arms as if such a wild and irrelevant gesture illustrated his point with greater clarity. "Would I want a Lalafell to be a bouncer at a tavern, or to haul granite to build a castle? No, and that's not because of racism. It's because on an objective level, Lalafell are less physically capable than the other races!" Daegsatz snorted disdainfully.
"Ye hear yerself? That sentence there. 'Lalafell be less phys'cally capable than th' other races'. That be racism. An' even then, what if th' pint bouncer be a thaumaturge?" The Sea Wolf questioned, his eyes narrowing and his arms now folded across his chest. Nero's icy blue eyes nearly rolled straight out of his head and into the blue-green ocean below.
"A Lalafell who can manifest aether into the form of destructive energy that can obliterate his enemies is still a Lalafell that I can punt. With my foot. A foot covered in a boot. A boot that may or may not have metal on it." The Hyur jabbed an index finger at his legs, apparently under the impression that a tangible representation of generic footwear would lend additional credence to his argument.
"Th' point ain't whether o' not ye can or can't punt a pint, lad, the point is yer denyin' a perfectly capable indiv'dual a certain profession 'cause o' 'is species," Daegsatz sniffed. "And that be racism,"
"Satz, you can't refer to them as a species and then call it racism! Your inconsistent terminology is clouding the issue. It'd be speciesism!" Nero argued. His evident failure to come up with a logical counter argument lead to him attempting to divert the course of the conversation in his favour with a frivolous correction of the Roegadyn's choice of words.
"Racism, speciesism, it all be th' same word for discrim'nation! And discrim'natin' be exactly what yer doin' wit' that fool question ye be askin'." Daegsatz growled, the features of his block-shaped face scrunching together in collective irritation.
"I wasn't discriminating!" Nero sighed. As he began to speak, his rate of speech accelerated and his tone gradually grew more indignant. "Look, it's not as if I had a full, current line of potential candidates to be my potential chef, and I was explicitly denying one of them the position because of their species--"Â
"'Cept," the Sea Wolf interrupted, "that that pacifically be the point o' yer question that be startin' this mess. 'Why would anyone hire a Miqo'te chef if they might shed fur in th' food?'" Daegsatz' quote of the Hyur's decidedly ignorant question was mockingly accompanied with a lilting, whiny tone and upwards inflection. If the Roegadyn's normal voice sounded like someone rubbing two rocks together in a fashion that suggested complete illiteracy in the skill of firestarting, then Daegsatz' imitation of his captain sounded like someone taking two boulders and dropping them on a fully manned string orchestra.
The Roegadyn snorted. "That's not ev'n considerin' th' fact that fer one, catfolk only have fur in th' ears and tail, and that two, Hyur an' Elezen and Roegadyn and Lalafell also need ta worry 'bout sheddin' hair into food. So in conclusion, unless a catfolk be cookin' with their tails 'stead o' their hands, yer question be comprised of a completely flawed an' still racist premise t' begin with."
Nero clapped his hands together in front of his face and audibly inhaled. "First, Satz, it's 'specifically'. Not 'pacifically'. 'Specifically'." It was seemingly Nero's hope that the infamous and ever-reliable "mundane and trifling grammar correction" debate strategy worked on the second attempt.
"Oh, now yer jes bein' petty," The Sea Wolf scoffed. Clearly, it didn't.
"Shut up. And second, never in my question did I state that nobody should hire a Miqo'te chef or that Miqo'te are somehow inherently less skilled at cooking at other species, just that a Miqo'te as a chef might pose more problems because by nature, they have more hair and a furry tail, in the same way that a Lalafell chef would need a box or several in order to properly reach the appropriate level of a stove." The random movement of Nero's arms ceased to resemble waving and became more closely associated with the term "flailing".
"Th' way ye phrased th' question made the implication that a potential employer should discrim'nate against catfolk, which be speciesism," Daegsatz insisted. "Followin' yer logic, a Sea Wolf ship would nev'r consider takin' on a spindly pink Hyur like y'self, because regardless o' the Hyur's personal skill outside of th' limitations of 'is species, Â 'e would lack the phys'cal and racial inclination fer sailin' that a Roegadyn'd have." He glared out of one eye at the Midlander, apparently content that his point had made itself.
Nero remained silent before despondently lumping himself on the railing of the ship, allowing himself to be slapped in the face with sea spray as if the ocean itself were sneering at him.
"Fine, fine, I worded it poorly, but I think my point still stands," Nero muttered sulkily, brushing a hand to wipe the seawater off his face. Now it was Daegsatz' turn to sigh and roll his eyes. "Lad, Cap'n Vail might o' raised ye into th' fine an' respectable man ye be today, but yer still childish in so many ways," the Roegadyn said, rebuking Nero in the same way an exasperated pet owner might reprimand a puppy that had been found with blood in its teeth for the fourth day in a row.
Silence fell upon the pair as the frigate gently pushed its way through the waves, the Roegadyn occasionally barking orders in lieu of his captain ostensibly having some kind of disabling mental epiphany that combined the subjects of his intellect, the nature of racial inequality, and the current state of dinner. Daegsatz' tranquility over not having to humour his captain's petty arguments was broken when Nero lifted his head and stared sedately at the bow of the ship.
"Do you think Elezen became so tall because they kept trying to hug big trees?"
