"Some of us were affected too, with the sali stuff, weren't we? At least we were weaker there because the natural energy fought against our energies. We were foreign enough the storm wasn't gonna hit the same way, I guess, but I didn't think we were entirely uh... is resistant even the word. I have no idea, so much of that was a headache," says the guy who'd been carting people around as the noblest steed one could ask for, and also talking to sali when he was not the one who'd volunteer for diplomacy duty. He could be polite, but he was not, strictly speaking, diplomatic.

But he's listening, because this is part of why he asked: Tidus has been here, facing more of these distressed worlds, and Jingyi's only seen the two. Seen more than two places, sure, but the Monastery and Aquafir weren't in distress.

"We might be able to," he says, frowning, "But only at the last of it. Turning the tides, you call it? It's gotta be in places where there's a... a... crux, some key point where if we add our weight, we might tip things into surviving. If we balance wrong, it still comes undone. Or it's bigger than we are, and we're struggling just to make sure we don't lose everything. Diagad felt like that."

He's not happy with any of the logic, with any of the things that don't add up, with, also, this false sense of outside saviours that they've been made into. Sure, his job back home was to be that person, to work with a group of people to face down the dark when the locals no longer could, or never could to begin with. It still felt different.

"I still want to fight that stupid dragon anyway." Said with a depth of disdain in stupid dragon, like he's uttered some sort of incredible insult. A pox of scale fleas and mange upon you, evil dragon god.