Categories > Games > Tales of Symphonia > Tin Soldiers
Yuan stormed into his office, brushing damp hair from his eyes and wringing water out of his cloak.
Botta watched him enter with an amused half-smile. "Forget your umbrella?" he asked lightly.
Yuan gave him a reproachful glare. "We're in the /desert/," he replied caustically, "I wasn't expecting /rain/."
"Charles has been predicting this for about a week now, with his sensing equipment," Botta pointed out.
"Botta, do you remember Charles and his sensing equipment last year about this time?" Yuan asked dryly, "As I recall, it was predicting blizzards. We didn't even get a sandstorm."
Botta nodded with a faint smirk. "You have a point," he admitted, "although rain is a far more plausible outcome. And he has had a full year to refine it, after all, and this is Charles we're talking about." But there was a sparkle in his eye that told Yuan he was still holding something back.
"How long does Charles say the rain will continue?" Yuan asked suspiciously.
"About a month," Botta replied, suppressed laughter clear in his tone.
Yuan laughed, and was about to reply, when a voice came over the intercom system. "To everyone who had bets on Charles' equipment's predictions," Hiroshi's voice said, "The rain stopped just a couple minutes ago. Pay up."
Yuan gaped at the speakers. Sitting down at his desk, he looked positively glum. "It started as soon as I left," he muttered, "and it ended almost as soon as I came in." He buried his face in his folded arms and finished in a muffled tone, "Looks like Undine still hates me."
"Don't you think you might be exaggerating just a little?" Botta asked, one eyebrow raised.
Yuan shook his head. "No, no, she really does," he replied, voice still muffled by his arms, "See, it's her revenge for the practical jokes I used to play on her, way back when." He paused, "To be fair, it was the Sylph's idea, and Gnome and Mithos helped, but I had a large part in it, and she hasn't forgiven me yet."
Botta wasn't sure whether to gape in astonishment or just laugh at how forlorn Yuan looked sitting there. He settled on a bemused chuckle, reflecting as he did so that while his time spent around Yuan could be called many things, 'boring' had never been on the list.
"Well, I suppose you'd better stay inside until it blows over, then," he pointed out to his leader, deadpanning, "Wouldn't want to damage Triet's ecology by going outside and making it rain too much."
Yuan lifted his head and stuck his tongue out; they both knew how he hated to be cooped up. After a moment, though, he began to chuckle at the absurdity of it all, and soon both were laughing.
Botta watched him enter with an amused half-smile. "Forget your umbrella?" he asked lightly.
Yuan gave him a reproachful glare. "We're in the /desert/," he replied caustically, "I wasn't expecting /rain/."
"Charles has been predicting this for about a week now, with his sensing equipment," Botta pointed out.
"Botta, do you remember Charles and his sensing equipment last year about this time?" Yuan asked dryly, "As I recall, it was predicting blizzards. We didn't even get a sandstorm."
Botta nodded with a faint smirk. "You have a point," he admitted, "although rain is a far more plausible outcome. And he has had a full year to refine it, after all, and this is Charles we're talking about." But there was a sparkle in his eye that told Yuan he was still holding something back.
"How long does Charles say the rain will continue?" Yuan asked suspiciously.
"About a month," Botta replied, suppressed laughter clear in his tone.
Yuan laughed, and was about to reply, when a voice came over the intercom system. "To everyone who had bets on Charles' equipment's predictions," Hiroshi's voice said, "The rain stopped just a couple minutes ago. Pay up."
Yuan gaped at the speakers. Sitting down at his desk, he looked positively glum. "It started as soon as I left," he muttered, "and it ended almost as soon as I came in." He buried his face in his folded arms and finished in a muffled tone, "Looks like Undine still hates me."
"Don't you think you might be exaggerating just a little?" Botta asked, one eyebrow raised.
Yuan shook his head. "No, no, she really does," he replied, voice still muffled by his arms, "See, it's her revenge for the practical jokes I used to play on her, way back when." He paused, "To be fair, it was the Sylph's idea, and Gnome and Mithos helped, but I had a large part in it, and she hasn't forgiven me yet."
Botta wasn't sure whether to gape in astonishment or just laugh at how forlorn Yuan looked sitting there. He settled on a bemused chuckle, reflecting as he did so that while his time spent around Yuan could be called many things, 'boring' had never been on the list.
"Well, I suppose you'd better stay inside until it blows over, then," he pointed out to his leader, deadpanning, "Wouldn't want to damage Triet's ecology by going outside and making it rain too much."
Yuan lifted his head and stuck his tongue out; they both knew how he hated to be cooped up. After a moment, though, he began to chuckle at the absurdity of it all, and soon both were laughing.
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