The courier's nose wrinkled up as he swallowed back the instinctive urge to argue about the difference between merely old and first. Asta was glib with his responses, smooth and quick with his words where Tal stumbled and struggled to put his thoughts and feelings into concrete sentences, and he had a feeling it wouldn't end well for him if he tried. Anyways, starting an argument with a guy he was asking permission from seemed like a bad move, even for him.
Didn't stop him from feeling like the guy was slighting his own goddess by lumping her in with the heralds, but that was between Asta and Dygra, and Tal had bigger fish to fry.
"No, y'don't..." he agreed slowly to the declaration that the old man didn't live in other regions, brow furrowing as something in the other man's words caught at his own memory of how the conversation had started, and he chewed on his lip, frowning thoughtfully. "Hm? I mean... it sounds like y'aren't real familiar with th'Grounds, either, for someone who lives here," he said slowly, feeling his way through the breadcrumbs of clues that had been dropped. "An' I'm not askin' about me movin' here just for that. I'm askin' if there was someone who already lives here who wanted t'build it, would y'be okay with it?"
Astaroth is quite settled in for this debate, eager and curious about the other man’s motivations, despite how baseline they seemed to him. A part of him was looking for more, curious why the Accepted might feel the need to insert himself into a different land, claiming he’s bettering the potential masses, which is a very interesting take for the older Ancient’s standards.
“[say]Correct.[/say]” Asta says with that very same grin. “[say]I have been away for a very long time. But, I am quite often in conversation with the Maverick.[/say]” Who rules the region in question. If he didn’t know something, asking Danta was his first go to for answers.
“[say]Once again, despite still being inclined to say no, for the sake of the argument: it depends.[/say]” He shrugs a shoulder gently, shifting his weight slightly again, cane shifting to his other hand. “[say]What are their motivations?[/say]”
"Y'mean Danta?" Tal's nose wrinkled in a complicated expression before settling on bemusement. "That sounds, uh..." He reached up to scratch at his nose, brain frantically riffling through his rolodex of adjectives for one that encompassed all of Danta's Dantaness. "...Nice...?" He wasn't quite sure what talking to Danta would accomplish for the man, but if that's how Astaroth got his kicks, Tal wasn't going to judge him for it.
Though he really didn't like that whole 'for the sake of argument' phrasing, and he had to fight to hold back his usual honest scowl. His face twitched a little but he managed to contain it, settling for jamming his hands into his pockets with a shrug. "I dunno yet. I've still got more folks t'ask, so I dunno what they'll say, or why," he answered honestly. "No one else's said 'no' yet. An' if people say 'yes' I'm not really diggin' too deep into it, t'be honest. If y'wanna know their motivations, you'd have t'ask 'em." Sure, a couple of people were taking time to think it through before they answered one way or the other, and Tal wasn't pushing them on it, but he figured as long as no one put a spike in the wheels he might as well keep asking every Grounder he met.
It’s mostly in regards to his unfamiliarity with the Grounds, talking to Dantalion made it easier to understand certain things and changes that have occurred – learning from those around him until he has the time to go and do the research necessary on his own. But, either way, the tall Ancient nods at the mention of Danta? “[say]Yes.[/say]” He offers, before he settles in for the potential debate that he’s perhaps a bit too eager for with the way his lips twist into that grin.
Only to deflate slightly when there’s no real debate to be had. He finds that he doesn’t need to do any of that. It isn’t his quest to pursue, nor does he particularly care what other people thought about it. As far as Astaroth is concerned, it’s none of his business. “[say]Mm.[/say]” He starts to say, scanning Tal for a moment before he shrugs his shoulders and his cane clicks on the ground as he starts to shift his weight. “[say]Well, then my answer remains no.[/say]”
Astaroth might have been looking forward to a philosophical debate, but the blunt - and occasionally oblivious, let's be honest - courier had taken his question at face value, answering to the concrete responses he'd gotten so far.
Besides, that grin was getting real unsettling and Tal couldn't help but shift his weight uneasily as the other man got comfortable.
The response that came wasn't exactly unexpected at that point and the courier tensed and opened his mouth to protest before slowly deflating himself, giving a glum nod. "Yeah... was gettin' that feelin' from you." Frey had been awfully specific about the consent aspect of the quest, and even if Asta was just saying 'no' to be contrary, it didn't change the result.
Tal had failed his god.
The courier's shoulders visibly slumped as he took a shaking breath, feeling the earth that he'd always thought was solid turn to quicksand beneath his mental feet. He didn't know what he'd do or where he'd go next but...
But away from here was sounding like an awfully good start.
"I gotta... go..." he mumbled reaching out blindly until his hand found the strong, steady shoulders of a white dragon who pushed beneath him, supporting him without a grumble for once. Turning, the courier let the dragon lead the way back towards the docks.
~Fin~
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