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[thefirstemperor]

[Absolute silence. Fou-Lu does not know what an inbox is.]

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The evening of Jake's announcement

[worthallthis]

Though he's seen Fou-Lu around, B hasn't managed to corner him for a proper chat since he return. This seems like as good a time as any. He tracks the little white-haired dragon down.

"C'mon. I'm gonna make us some cocoa," he offers first thing. He has no idea if alcohol works on Fou-Lu, knows for sure it doesn't work on him, and cocoa is much more pleasant anyway. A good drink for commiserating, and maybe cheering up. With any luck, even, Fou-Lu won't ever have had it before.

[thefirstemperor]

Already feeling rather spectacularly wrong-footed by current events, Fou-Lu is particularly slow and stiff in his response. He also doesn't know what cocoa is, but this is apparently a settled thing, and he has no reason to actually resist. With a somewhat deer-in-the-headlights look, he nods, but it's not the most enthusiastic reception, even by his standards.

[worthallthis]

At least he didn't chase him off. That's better than nothing. B starts for the stairs down below decks, to his own cabin. "You okay?" he asks first, not looking at him, metal hand in his pocket and flesh one on the stairwell railing.

[thefirstemperor]

Difficult question to answer by nodding. "Indifferent," he says, choosing brevity and as much honesty as he's inclined to share.

[worthallthis]

He doesn't believe that one for a second. Two of Fou-Lu's people are leaving, might actually have already left, the guy cannot actually be indifferent. He doesn't know if Fou-Lu even has any other people he actually cares for. "Better off than me, then," is what he says.

[thefirstemperor]

Fou-Lu has many barriers to communication, but this one is just a style mismatch. He speaks courtier, everything understated and indirect. The fact that he didn't claim to be fine is an admission of being in some distress. But he's completely willing to take B's response at face value. "New troubles arising already?"

[worthallthis]

Whereas B is one of the more plain-spoken people out there. Indifferent reads less as distress and more of masking. At least it's not very good masking, though, so the effect is probably close enough to the same.

"Well, existing inside my brain is kind of. Fucked up, in general," B admits. It's a better baseline than it was when Fou-Lu first met him, but it's still decidedly not normal, and probably never will be. "But having one of my friends leave always leaves me a little sad."

[thefirstemperor]

Mortals and their interiority. "'Tis better to be free of this place, as prisoner or merely as subject to the admiral's whims." And he really does think so. He was glad to see them both out, even if the absence left behind is remarkably like a tomb, an area of his particular expertise.

[worthallthis]

"Maybe. If you've got somewhere else to go, I guess." And now they're talking about B, which is not what he'd meant to do here. Ugh. At least it's only one more flight of down to B's cabin's level. "Jake is probably better off, you're right. He's going to get a fishing boat."

[thefirstemperor]

As fishing, unlike hunting, was hard to turn into an exclusive and glamorous pastime for the nobility, Fou-Lu has only a passing familiarity with it, but the idea seems to suit Jake. He does quirk a smile, though, remembering their enclosure trip. "He who was so proud of the desert he hailed from? I hope the fish repay him well for the loss of sun-baked stone and thorns."

[worthallthis]

"As nice as sun is. I could live without deserts. Seriously. What did he like so much about that place?" It was just a lot of dirt and dust and assholes, in his experience. Often with venomous creatures that tried to get into your shoes.

[thefirstemperor]

"The sun and I art not natural allies," Fou-Lu says loftily. He stole Jake's hat for a reason.

[worthallthis]

"No, guess you wouldn't be." Not as pale as he is, poor dragon-guy. B pushes open the door out of the stairwell, holding it for Fou-Lu, and from there it's not far to the cabin. "Though a little sun at a time is nice. Being warm. Just not all day long until you're burnt up."

[thefirstemperor]

He doesn't thank B for holding the door. Some imperial habits remain. "Mine own elemental affinities are to water and ice." Solar radiation wouldn't be enough to bother him if he were himself with his proper powers, but he'd still choose shade, rain, and starry skies first.

[worthallthis]

Eh, he didn't really expect it, anyway. "Yeah? Is that a. A dragon thing?" He's not sure people have elemental affinities. ... if they did, would his be ice, too? He's been frozen enough times.

[thefirstemperor]

Fou-Lu would stiffen if he were anything other than maximally stiff already, but of course B knows that. And he might as well know it properly, as the elemental affinity is really much more a mortal thing and part of his mostly abandoned cover story. "Among the ancient ones, yes, as they sink into and watch over the world. Endless at mine own time of life art more... mutable, but circumstances are unique."

[worthallthis]

B stops at the heavy door, taps in his code, and it slide open. That is, he thinks, the most words he's heard out of Fou-Lu at once in person. "Unique?" he asks, motioning for him to come in. The room is small but cozy, lots of blankets everywhere, the mattress on the floor rather than the bed frame (which is now a couch, kind of).

The doors slide shut behind them, and he drifts over to the little kitchen nook.

[thefirstemperor]

He has specific information to convey, and doing so efficiently seems like the best bet. "The Endless are not native to the world I hail from, but summoned by mortal need. Mine own summoning was botched. There are myriad unintended effects." He doesn't really react to his surroundings, standing as awkwardly here as he would anywhere else.

[worthallthis]

Probably a good thing B doesn't have a new cat yet, otherwise Fou-Lu would have to deal with that, too.

"Jesus. That. Sounds like it could've been pretty awful." And he hasn't missed the whole "I was summoned" thing, either. What the hell. He fills up the kettle with water and sets it to heat. "What were they trying to summon you for?"

[thefirstemperor]

"To bring an end to war." He knows it sounds absurd, open-ended like that, but that was his purpose and that became his nature, something that could be stopped only by shattering him entire, and even this extremity merely turned that nature poisonously inward.

[worthallthis]

That... sounds less absurd and, frankly, more chilling. Because B knows the ways human beings usually try to end wars. Fou-Lu is maybe a lot more like him than he'd thought, Jesus.

"Definitely pretty awful," he says, sounding a bit more grim. "Pretty sure that's not a thing that can be solved by a single person. Dragon or Endless or not."

[thefirstemperor]

"An emperor may accomplish something, but thou speakest true. 'Twas not a task that could be done. Too much of mortal nature stands opposed." As methods go, his weren't the worst.

[worthallthis]

The kettle whistles, and B takes it off to pour mugs and start mixing in the chocolate. "And you were stuck dealing with an impossible mission." Sounds like one of his less visceral nightmares. He's not exactly surprised he never knew this before, it's not like either of them did a lot of talking... but he kind of wishes he had known.

[thefirstemperor]

"The west was united, an empire born," he says guardedly, because he knows it was impossible, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel as though he failed. He did... something.

[worthallthis]

He might not speak court-ese, but he can still read people, and he can still imagine himself in an untenable situation. The poor guy tried. "It's a start," he agrees, though he doesn't like the idea of "empire" either. It's how humans would try to end wars, all right.

He finally brings over the mug, offers it to Fou-Lu. There's plenty of cocoa, and a little milk to thicken it up and make it a drinkable temperature. "Here. Try this and tell me what you think."