His eyes rise to the castle towers again, to the lift platforms where their last 'tour' began becoming so interesting, and he can feel the ache of a longing sigh ballooning in his lungs.
"Mmm, yes, maybe later..." Ienzo murmurs instead with a non-committal half-shrug, though as Terra's hand shifts against his, the apprentice's slimmer fingers spread to accomodate- first their loosely clasped hands, held like mitts, then with a promising little wriggle, interlaced fingers. The glove-soft pads of his fingertips tap pensively across the keybearer's knuckles, and a quick sideways glance of furtive eyes suggests otherwise- that he'd certainly like to retreat to the cool indoors and peel out of these silly-looking overalls, eventually.
But first there's a job to be done. All good things come to those with patience.
"That's exactly it. It'll require some regular maintainence on our end, of course, just to make sure things are properly balenced, and pump needs to keep running to prevent algae and root rot, but ideally everything exists in symbiosis."
Luckily Terra's not one to get hung up on technicalities, seeing the rough gist of the system without launching into the same critique of details as Cid and Dilan did, pouring over his first set of blueprints with scrutinizing eyes, ready to pounce and practically rip his heart out of the project over the finer flimsy points of engineering.
But that meeting was months ago, and he's since learned to take it in stride when the whole committee talks about separating scaled-down projects from impractical pipe dreams, feasible and not feasible. (Such as digging out the old septic tanks and installing new incinerators for biosolid soil conditioning.)
One step at a time, kid.
So it makes him laugh a little, bowing his head when Terra talks about a crossing of the pipes.
"Yes, yes....the running taps are on a separate filtration system." He smiles a bit crookedly, rolling his eyes in spite of himself. There's room at every round table about waste management for plenty of toilet humor, but Ienzo's still polite enough that they always leave him feeling red-cheeked and vaguely unclean. "As for that septage, well, we're still fiddling around with a few new W-t-E ideas."
He rattles this off easily, offhanded, like the first time he used 'RTC' as common parlance for heading back up to the castle, and Tifa looked at him unblinking, uncomprehending. There's insular language he's still learning to release.
no subject
"Mmm, yes, maybe later..." Ienzo murmurs instead with a non-committal half-shrug, though as Terra's hand shifts against his, the apprentice's slimmer fingers spread to accomodate- first their loosely clasped hands, held like mitts, then with a promising little wriggle, interlaced fingers. The glove-soft pads of his fingertips tap pensively across the keybearer's knuckles, and a quick sideways glance of furtive eyes suggests otherwise- that he'd certainly like to retreat to the cool indoors and peel out of these silly-looking overalls, eventually.
But first there's a job to be done. All good things come to those with patience.
"That's exactly it. It'll require some regular maintainence on our end, of course, just to make sure things are properly balenced, and pump needs to keep running to prevent algae and root rot, but ideally everything exists in symbiosis."
Luckily Terra's not one to get hung up on technicalities, seeing the rough gist of the system without launching into the same critique of details as Cid and Dilan did, pouring over his first set of blueprints with scrutinizing eyes, ready to pounce and practically rip his heart out of the project over the finer flimsy points of engineering.
But that meeting was months ago, and he's since learned to take it in stride when the whole committee talks about separating scaled-down projects from impractical pipe dreams, feasible and not feasible. (Such as digging out the old septic tanks and installing new incinerators for biosolid soil conditioning.)
One step at a time, kid.
So it makes him laugh a little, bowing his head when Terra talks about a crossing of the pipes.
"Yes, yes....the running taps are on a separate filtration system." He smiles a bit crookedly, rolling his eyes in spite of himself. There's room at every round table about waste management for plenty of toilet humor, but Ienzo's still polite enough that they always leave him feeling red-cheeked and vaguely unclean. "As for that septage, well, we're still fiddling around with a few new W-t-E ideas."
He rattles this off easily, offhanded, like the first time he used 'RTC' as common parlance for heading back up to the castle, and Tifa looked at him unblinking, uncomprehending. There's insular language he's still learning to release.