That... is certainly a reaction. Lucky that Eula sensed something before Malos actually moved and was able to duck out of the way.
They follow him in, armored boots seemingly too loud on the floor, looking over the other dolls scattered around the room. There are quite a few of them, but most have at least one or two recognizable traits to be unrecognizable.
The half-ranted, half-explanation-half-question, at least... Well, Eula Darnus of all people cannot blame him for having a bit of a meltdown, at that. They close their eyes for a moment, bracing, not answering, before returning to the search, half-expecting Alphinaud, if Alisaie is here.
It's not a doll of Alphinaud, at least, that their eyes alight on. That orange hair, the traditional warrior's clothes and sword... Eula goes to the window past Malos and picks up one of the dolls staring forward, in order to see its face.
As they'd thought. The facial tattoos confirm it.
"You aren't the only one with those questions," they say, tone level but in a way that suggests the levelness of a rifle steadied to aim. They show him the doll in one gauntleted hand and say, "Her name is Fordola. No kin of mine, but known to me all the same."
i ahven't yet made an icon appropriate for this oops
They follow him in, armored boots seemingly too loud on the floor, looking over the other dolls scattered around the room. There are quite a few of them, but most have at least one or two recognizable traits to be unrecognizable.
The half-ranted, half-explanation-half-question, at least... Well, Eula Darnus of all people cannot blame him for having a bit of a meltdown, at that. They close their eyes for a moment, bracing, not answering, before returning to the search, half-expecting Alphinaud, if Alisaie is here.
It's not a doll of Alphinaud, at least, that their eyes alight on. That orange hair, the traditional warrior's clothes and sword... Eula goes to the window past Malos and picks up one of the dolls staring forward, in order to see its face.
As they'd thought. The facial tattoos confirm it.
"You aren't the only one with those questions," they say, tone level but in a way that suggests the levelness of a rifle steadied to aim. They show him the doll in one gauntleted hand and say, "Her name is Fordola. No kin of mine, but known to me all the same."