I do. [ He does. ] I believe you can understand anything that you wish to.
[ Such is the liberating, elevating power of science! It is a practical, methodical process that anyone can learn, anyone can use, and all results — provided that no corners are cut — are resoundingly solid. Science is a great equalizer in method, and a great divider in application. As he pulls apart the boxes, slicing them into panels to stack them neatly in the sagging chair he probably never actually sit in, he examines each piece of complex, nigh-alien glassware and sets it aside upon his sturdiest shelf.
As he does, he checks off the itemized list, affirming that the equipment has arrived perfectly intact. This young man truly is a credit to his trade! ]
Ah, that truly is a disappointment. I endeavor to hold on to individuals who do their jobs well. It is an inconvenience, to have to work alone after years of functioning in tandem with others. [ 'In a team' would be the normal thing to say, but let's be honest here, Bondrewd definitely means 'in tandom', since the Umbra Hands were all part of his hivemind-soul. As he steadily checks off all of the materials, he comes to the end of his list and grips the pen — signing off, with a tidy, flowing script. Finishing the task, he examines the list — diligently, and then places it on the desk. Facing Gen.
He does not speak as though he is aiming to rush the young man out the door, though. ]
A blacksmith. [ If his voice had any ebb and flow to it, he might sound mildly chiding, like a father scolding his child for not having enough faith in himself. Instead, he is brutally straightforward, robotic: ] A trade in which a master smith takes an apprentice under their tutelage, and show them a craft. That you learned such a trade, means that your assessment of yourself in regards to my alembic system is decidedly incorrect.
[ He briefly brings his hands together, a staccato burst of applause. ]
I am always in need of someone willing to assist me with repairs to my armor. It is a complex system, of both metal and organism, and additional hands always have made light of such work. See?
[ And that is the point where he rounds the desk once more, heaving the great, dark bulk of himself elegantly and gracefully towards Gen, holding his arms out now, to allow the dog-eared young man to see the pieces of his armor that are already suffering damage. Old, filed-down chunks torn from the knuckle guards, the helm scored with both nicks and the intricate, thinly-etched mark of a Kenosian Stargazer. ]
no subject
[ Such is the liberating, elevating power of science! It is a practical, methodical process that anyone can learn, anyone can use, and all results — provided that no corners are cut — are resoundingly solid. Science is a great equalizer in method, and a great divider in application. As he pulls apart the boxes, slicing them into panels to stack them neatly in the sagging chair he probably never actually sit in, he examines each piece of complex, nigh-alien glassware and sets it aside upon his sturdiest shelf.
As he does, he checks off the itemized list, affirming that the equipment has arrived perfectly intact. This young man truly is a credit to his trade! ]
Ah, that truly is a disappointment. I endeavor to hold on to individuals who do their jobs well. It is an inconvenience, to have to work alone after years of functioning in tandem with others. [ 'In a team' would be the normal thing to say, but let's be honest here, Bondrewd definitely means 'in tandom', since the Umbra Hands were all part of his hivemind-soul. As he steadily checks off all of the materials, he comes to the end of his list and grips the pen — signing off, with a tidy, flowing script. Finishing the task, he examines the list — diligently, and then places it on the desk. Facing Gen.
He does not speak as though he is aiming to rush the young man out the door, though. ]
A blacksmith. [ If his voice had any ebb and flow to it, he might sound mildly chiding, like a father scolding his child for not having enough faith in himself. Instead, he is brutally straightforward, robotic: ] A trade in which a master smith takes an apprentice under their tutelage, and show them a craft. That you learned such a trade, means that your assessment of yourself in regards to my alembic system is decidedly incorrect.
[ He briefly brings his hands together, a staccato burst of applause. ]
I am always in need of someone willing to assist me with repairs to my armor. It is a complex system, of both metal and organism, and additional hands always have made light of such work. See?
[ And that is the point where he rounds the desk once more, heaving the great, dark bulk of himself elegantly and gracefully towards Gen, holding his arms out now, to allow the dog-eared young man to see the pieces of his armor that are already suffering damage. Old, filed-down chunks torn from the knuckle guards, the helm scored with both nicks and the intricate, thinly-etched mark of a Kenosian Stargazer. ]
Our paths may continue to cross, how fortunate.