Re: [Preparations] Mission 1: Suit Up and Launch, Frame Runners!
Mu'Tasim frowned at Savitar as he made his comments about the Saints. He didn't show it fully, but the fellow had bit him on the inside deeply, very deeply. The Vigil was something that Mu'Tasim had relied on all his life, and to misconstrue the Saints with folly things such as gods or omnipotent beings insulted him greatly. However, he would not hold it against the rebellious Iroma, every person was allowed their own view.
He felt better when Zalus asked for his own blessing, and turned to the taller Iroma with a smile.
"Hrm, now, I know what blessing to give you." Mu'Tasim said wisely as he approached Zalus, and then placed his hands on his shoulders. He nodded and placed a hand behind his head, bringing his pale forehead down to his darker one.
"Zalus Ka Salim, I believe you could use the guidance of Babhi." Mu'Tasim whispered in a tone as he did before. "May you achieve the greatest success in all that you do." He pressed his lips to Zalus' forehead and then wiped where he kissed with his thumb. "Perhaps one day you will find yourself face-to-face with Mu'Klamal as I once did." He whispered a little before releasing his grip on Zalus and smiling lightly to him. Then, his attention turned to Reovan, he walked over and placed his hands on her shoulders. He lowered his forehead to hers and was about to speak until it he took a small breath.
That scent... He thought for a moment as he caught the faint, yet sweet smell of her facial paint. Images of home, the caravans, and the vast Nuocr Desert entered into his mind. It had been over five years since he had last seen his family and over a year since he had felt the warm wind of the desert blow on his face and through his hai-...
Wake up, you're dawdling, fool. was what his mind told him as he realized he hand been holding Reovan's forehead to his for almost a minute without saying a thing. He looked at her for a moment, clearly embarrassed by his daydreaming. An abashed chuckle escaped his lips for a moment.
"Er... Forgive me... It must be a tad colder in here than I thought." Mu'Tasim excused himself. He was not much for lying, so he quickly, but lightly pressed his forehead against her again and started the blessing in his confiding voice.
"Reovan Mehta, for you, a blessing of Muna." He said as straightly as he could. "May you be aware of every evil that would rise against you." He kissed the Iromi's forehead, almost savoring the sweet scent, though not dawdling like had before. The Guard's thumb rubbed the spot he pressed his lips to and then he smiled weakly, still a tad embarrassed.
He thanked all the Saints for Malik catching his attention, so that he may not have to explain his folly further. Though, he hated to dissappoint the fiery haired Iroma.
"Well, I would gladly, Vayshirin Rashidan, but our VANDRs are not guided by the Saints, they are controlled by us who are guided by the Saints." Mu'Tasim frowned for a moment, but continued, "You see, blessing a VANDR is as if blessing a Faelraig. You can hope all you want that the sword swings faster, or cuts better, but it's all up to the user to make it that way. The Saints themselves don't make our hands perform better, they light the path so that we can make them perform better." He walked over to Malik and clasped a hand on the soldier's hand.
"Your blessing, that of Jafar, is to remind you of your own prowess to protect yourself and others around, to remember your duty is to the Vanguard, not yourself." Mu'tasim then looked at Zus, "Fanir keeps the thought in mind that one must think to perform actions. That when we make decision, we are confident it was the best to be made when it was made." He looked at Zalus, "Bahbi reminds us of our goals, of the pursuit, to never give in to minor errors, to always have hope, even when hope is no where to be found." Finally, he looked at Reovan. "Muna, is a shining example, telling us that danger is only dangerous when you're not aware of it, with bravery and skill, all danger is but a stepping stone to victory." He clapped his hand twice on Malik's higher shoulder and then smiled at him.
"That is what the Saints are, remember it, for it is you who swings the sword. Not them." Mu'Tasim smiled warmly at the bright young pilot.
