Iymril slightly quirked an eyebrow at Arcanos’ comment. The suggestion was clear and cause the Sephi to give a short, nasally, amused snort in response. It was the closest anyone had gotten to a laugh from them in the better part of a decade.
“In that case, the oil you gave me will come in use.” They replied, in pure deadpan. “Thank you for the praise, Darth Arcanos. I aim to please after all.” Iymril stated with a nod of respect.
Once Arcanos was comfortable in the convertible speeder, Iymril would slide into the seat beside him. They watched in silence as they left what Iymril assumed was the royal and aristocratic quarter and began to delve into the slums. Here, the destitute lived in three and four story hovels.
“Could you imagine living such a wretched meaningless existence?” They asked idly as the speeder passed a house with only one gardener on detail.
However, as they proceeded deeper into the city, things only got progressively worse. At one point, Iymril saw a man mowing their own yard. They instinctively locked their door, despite the roof to the speeder being down. It was then that Arcanos’ words drew them from looking at the horrors of the poors.
Their head dipped in reply. “There are some fates worse than calling yourself Anfynn.” They replied breezily. “It allows me a level of anonymity that I appreciate.” They continued. “Plus, if there are any unfortunate accidents they will contact and blame the Anfynn.” That thought made ripple of joy roll down their spine.
When the speeder rolled into an even poorer district Iymril leaned away from their door. They looked away from the window, worried that if they looked one of those wretches in the eyes, it would approach the speeder. Their ears pinned themselves back in disgust and shock.
“That one’s shoes are made from pleather and cloth.” They muttered in disgust.
That was when Arcanos pointed out that they’d have to appear as less royal. They’d have to blend in with commoners. Iymril wanted to vomit at those words but they contained themself.
“I’m…inexperienced with commoners.” They admitted. “Could you guide me on their customs?”
“In that case, the oil you gave me will come in use.” They replied, in pure deadpan. “Thank you for the praise, Darth Arcanos. I aim to please after all.” Iymril stated with a nod of respect.
Once Arcanos was comfortable in the convertible speeder, Iymril would slide into the seat beside him. They watched in silence as they left what Iymril assumed was the royal and aristocratic quarter and began to delve into the slums. Here, the destitute lived in three and four story hovels.
“Could you imagine living such a wretched meaningless existence?” They asked idly as the speeder passed a house with only one gardener on detail.
However, as they proceeded deeper into the city, things only got progressively worse. At one point, Iymril saw a man mowing their own yard. They instinctively locked their door, despite the roof to the speeder being down. It was then that Arcanos’ words drew them from looking at the horrors of the poors.
Their head dipped in reply. “There are some fates worse than calling yourself Anfynn.” They replied breezily. “It allows me a level of anonymity that I appreciate.” They continued. “Plus, if there are any unfortunate accidents they will contact and blame the Anfynn.” That thought made ripple of joy roll down their spine.
When the speeder rolled into an even poorer district Iymril leaned away from their door. They looked away from the window, worried that if they looked one of those wretches in the eyes, it would approach the speeder. Their ears pinned themselves back in disgust and shock.
“That one’s shoes are made from pleather and cloth.” They muttered in disgust.
That was when Arcanos pointed out that they’d have to appear as less royal. They’d have to blend in with commoners. Iymril wanted to vomit at those words but they contained themself.
“I’m…inexperienced with commoners.” They admitted. “Could you guide me on their customs?”
@Sreeya