[ Messmer's gaze is drawn back to Verso as he speaks, though his eye provides little more than the shadowy silhouette of him compared to what the snake sees. There was a good chance that his request wouldn't be received very well - Verso, after all, has a complicated relationship with his own history, as he's come to learn - but Verso seems willing enough to share it with him. Another little show of trust. Inwardly, he's grateful for that trust, and to learn more about the person who's so abruptly flipped his life on its head even more so.
It's no surprise that he was well-loved, as Messmer had suspected; he has the easy kindness of a man who's received plenty in return. The aimlessness, the wealth and influence - these are things Messmer understands well, too, despite the strange circumstances of his own existence. ]
Thy true heart layeth with music, then. [ He'll have to ask Verso to play for him sometime. Before they leave, of course; it seems unlikely to him that something as delicate and lovely as a piano could have survived in the crusade's wake. ] The expectations upon thee were strict indeed, if such a talent were not lauded.
[ he's curious about Verso's siblings, too - he's never mentioned them before. (Then again, Messmer supposes he's never brought up his own, either.) But that can wait. He seemed hesitant to expand upon them. ]
[His love for music was greater than all the rest. He loved painting, too, for a while, but it was not the same. And as he’s said, the expectations drained the joy out of it over the years, like a slow, slow drip.]
I dreamt of playing in the opera house. The notes there would travel like no other, and there is nearly no greater feeling than being lost in a melody — it’s as though it winds through one’s soul.
[But…]
But to be a Painter is not a talent to be thrown away. Not with the power you can wield, the influence you have. The things you can contribute to the world. To want to play music instead? Well! How could I be so silly!
[ He speaks about it so eloquently. Yes, he definitely needs to hear Verso play - he's sure that this passion would be transmitted through his instrument even more strongly than his words. Messmer's always liked to listen. Music soothes the savage beast, as they say.
Yet Verso was expected to shoulder the mantle of godhood rather than pursue that passion. That's how Messmer understands this, anyway; maybe being a "Painter" isn't exactly the same, but it's certainly close. Something like the Elden Lord, perhaps, acting in service to whatever god provides them with their power. ]
Such is the burden of power - as surely as it doth man enable, so too will it constrain him. [ spoken with a measure of understanding, though Messmer's circumstances were different: he was the opposite of Verso in a way, desperate to prove that his powers could be useful rather than threatening to his mother, and casting all other cares aside. A whole lot of good that did him. ] Thy siblings provided thee no cover?
no subject
It's no surprise that he was well-loved, as Messmer had suspected; he has the easy kindness of a man who's received plenty in return. The aimlessness, the wealth and influence - these are things Messmer understands well, too, despite the strange circumstances of his own existence. ]
Thy true heart layeth with music, then. [ He'll have to ask Verso to play for him sometime. Before they leave, of course; it seems unlikely to him that something as delicate and lovely as a piano could have survived in the crusade's wake. ] The expectations upon thee were strict indeed, if such a talent were not lauded.
[ he's curious about Verso's siblings, too - he's never mentioned them before. (Then again, Messmer supposes he's never brought up his own, either.) But that can wait. He seemed hesitant to expand upon them. ]
no subject
[His love for music was greater than all the rest. He loved painting, too, for a while, but it was not the same. And as he’s said, the expectations drained the joy out of it over the years, like a slow, slow drip.]
I dreamt of playing in the opera house. The notes there would travel like no other, and there is nearly no greater feeling than being lost in a melody — it’s as though it winds through one’s soul.
[But…]
But to be a Painter is not a talent to be thrown away. Not with the power you can wield, the influence you have. The things you can contribute to the world. To want to play music instead? Well! How could I be so silly!
[That is, of course, a bit wry.]
no subject
Yet Verso was expected to shoulder the mantle of godhood rather than pursue that passion. That's how Messmer understands this, anyway; maybe being a "Painter" isn't exactly the same, but it's certainly close. Something like the Elden Lord, perhaps, acting in service to whatever god provides them with their power. ]
Such is the burden of power - as surely as it doth man enable, so too will it constrain him. [ spoken with a measure of understanding, though Messmer's circumstances were different: he was the opposite of Verso in a way, desperate to prove that his powers could be useful rather than threatening to his mother, and casting all other cares aside. A whole lot of good that did him. ] Thy siblings provided thee no cover?