[Oh, no. Oh no. Yuan can't not follow Kratos; but he recognizes Nike, and he knows what purple and gold means, and Kratos is 'being called over' by... too many officials.]
[Yuan cannot, practically, do anything about this, except bite his tongue and wonder if Kratos knows, in this moment, how much of a burning anger Yuan carries for every single sapient being in this bath-house.]
[Spirits damn it.]
[His bearing is utterly rigid. Maybe the force of holding his shoulders down, preventing them from climbing up around his ears, will help him keep all the blood from flowing to his face. Yuan can dream.]
[Tethe'allan king. That's definitely the Tethe'allan king. He's stuck on that sentiment, and he doesn't know where's safe to put his eyes, so he mimics Kratos -- a bow, about the same depth if a little deeper for safety's sake -- and fixes his gaze on the edge of Nike's cloak. Not Nike herself. The cloak.]
no subject
[Yuan cannot, practically, do anything about this, except bite his tongue and wonder if Kratos knows, in this moment, how much of a burning anger Yuan carries for every single sapient being in this bath-house.]
[Spirits damn it.]
[His bearing is utterly rigid. Maybe the force of holding his shoulders down, preventing them from climbing up around his ears, will help him keep all the blood from flowing to his face. Yuan can dream.]
[Tethe'allan king. That's definitely the Tethe'allan king. He's stuck on that sentiment, and he doesn't know where's safe to put his eyes, so he mimics Kratos -- a bow, about the same depth if a little deeper for safety's sake -- and fixes his gaze on the edge of Nike's cloak. Not Nike herself. The cloak.]
[Help.]