"I see," Elidibus says. Perfectly reasonable. And perhaps something he'd like to look into more detail regarding later when he's not trying to work on something decidedly non-weaponlike.
Which leaves the clock and recreating it and how he forgot to mention not to pace around. Or rather, not to make distracting movements.
Or move at all. Well, lesson is learned for the future.
Probably not looking exactly pyreflies, since it's not wisps of energy. Elidibus is keeping it contained so that it doesn't disperse into what exists of the train's flow- or for that matter, into himself or Tidus.
[Would clock aether make Tidus more timely? Such mysteries will go unsolved alas. Also it doesn't really work like that.]
It happens as just the barest shift of eyes. Something so miniscule that it may have not even been noticed and the perfect repose of Elidibus solely focused on the creation of the clock and Tidus' clever efforts at trying to obtain the book to distract himself from asking questions is a complete success.
But something as basic as this doesn't take long to create at all. And a minute or two later, the outcome makes it clear what might have occurred. Something that could have passed as a last minute addition to the blank clock face originally proposed if it didn't suspiciously match the pattern the book had initially flipped open to.
But there it is. Rather than a squat table-top alarm clock with a basic series of pictures separating the hours, a thinner wall-clock is in the Ascian's hands. The same mechanisms and power source at its base to ensure the timekeeping method remains the same; the changes have been cosmetic but profound even so. All for a small addition of his own aether to what had been derived from the clock to cover any true variance in mass or material.
Tidus won't be judged for his actions. Elidibus is at fault for not mentioning movement after all. But he does receive a resigned look along with the polite inquiry and offer of the clock; now segmented into the twenty-one known hours of the day with triangular markers denoting the half-hour points.
no subject
Which leaves the clock and recreating it and how he forgot to mention not to pace around. Or rather, not to make distracting movements.
Or move at all. Well, lesson is learned for the future.
Probably not looking exactly pyreflies, since it's not wisps of energy. Elidibus is keeping it contained so that it doesn't disperse into what exists of the train's flow- or for that matter, into himself or Tidus.
[Would clock aether make Tidus more timely? Such mysteries will go unsolved alas. Also it doesn't really work like that.]
It happens as just the barest shift of eyes. Something so miniscule that it may have not even been noticed and the perfect repose of Elidibus solely focused on the creation of the clock and Tidus' clever efforts at trying to obtain the book to distract himself from asking questions is a complete success.
But something as basic as this doesn't take long to create at all. And a minute or two later, the outcome makes it clear what might have occurred. Something that could have passed as a last minute addition to the blank clock face originally proposed if it didn't suspiciously match the pattern the book had initially flipped open to.
But there it is. Rather than a squat table-top alarm clock with a basic series of pictures separating the hours, a thinner wall-clock is in the Ascian's hands. The same mechanisms and power source at its base to ensure the timekeeping method remains the same; the changes have been cosmetic but profound even so. All for a small addition of his own aether to what had been derived from the clock to cover any true variance in mass or material.
Tidus won't be judged for his actions. Elidibus is at fault for not mentioning movement after all. But he does receive a resigned look along with the polite inquiry and offer of the clock; now segmented into the twenty-one known hours of the day with triangular markers denoting the half-hour points.
"I believe this will be sufficient."