Hythlodaeus, right? That's a rhetorical question, don't answer it unless you have other names to go by. I'm here about your comrade or whatever, Solus?
Let's call me his coworker.
More directly, you can call me Dirk.
I wanted to talk.
Let's call me his coworker.
More directly, you can call me Dirk.
I wanted to talk.
Oh, look at that splash of color. I hadn't even considered the possibilities!
[....]
The short version is this: I don't know you. You don't know me.
And normally this would end there and we wouldn't be talking, leaving you weeks or months away from the apparent affective delights of applying a colour wheel to your text, but Solus is cagey about his business, and circumstances being what they are, that affects me, so I'm looking for outside verification on his character.
The short version is this: I don't know you. You don't know me.
And normally this would end there and we wouldn't be talking, leaving you weeks or months away from the apparent affective delights of applying a colour wheel to your text, but Solus is cagey about his business, and circumstances being what they are, that affects me, so I'm looking for outside verification on his character.
Well, Dirk. The first step to knowing one another is a point of contact, is it not?
Do you not delight in the color as well? It is rather refreshing... Ah, but to your concern. What would you know of "Solus"?
Do you not delight in the color as well? It is rather refreshing... Ah, but to your concern. What would you know of "Solus"?
Literally everyone where I come from colours their text. The novelty is all on your end.
Let's start with those scare quotes you put around his name. Assuming that is his fucking name, because you just outright baited me with the clue that it ain't.
Let's start with those scare quotes you put around his name. Assuming that is his fucking name, because you just outright baited me with the clue that it ain't.
You seem irate to be given information that you seek. Is reading stressful for you?
I find it to be a ridiculous distinction in this place where he is already unknown to nearly everyone. You would know of him, and I would tell you that which is not a secret to me nor the millions who lived in our city.
He is known, if not more widely, then more truly as Emet-Selch. I will not be calling him Solus. The character is poorly distinguished from himself anyway.
I find it to be a ridiculous distinction in this place where he is already unknown to nearly everyone. You would know of him, and I would tell you that which is not a secret to me nor the millions who lived in our city.
He is known, if not more widely, then more truly as Emet-Selch. I will not be calling him Solus. The character is poorly distinguished from himself anyway.
Edited 2020-06-18 05:50 (UTC)
[If I didn't know any better, I'd say he picked that colour on fucking purpose.
I do know. I'm a logical man. I know he didn't.
I know that.
But while I wasn't pissed a couple of literal seconds ago, I'm definitely starting to see what Solus was hinting at about this chucklefuck's temperament.
That doesn't sit all that well with me, as it turns out.
Whatever.
Focus.
We're just getting started.]
That's also all on your end.
Are you saying he's playing a character?
I do know. I'm a logical man. I know he didn't.
I know that.
But while I wasn't pissed a couple of literal seconds ago, I'm definitely starting to see what Solus was hinting at about this chucklefuck's temperament.
That doesn't sit all that well with me, as it turns out.
Whatever.
Focus.
We're just getting started.]
That's also all on your end.
Are you saying he's playing a character?
[And they quickly arrive to information that he has decided to hold onto. Half truths, then.]
I know not the nature of the character, precisely. He has not told me about it. But he never had brown hair, nor did he adorn himself with such a thing upon his forehead. Knowing what I know of him, it stands to reason that portion of his persona is fabricated. But as I said, I find it to be poorly distinguished if that is indeed the case. It is entirely possible that he has merely changed since we have last spoken.
I cannot say for sure how long it has been since we last spoke. Perhaps as little as a hundred, perhaps as much as a hundred thousand years.
I've never seen him bear a maskless face to so many, however. He claims a moon to me, but I doubt that.
I know not the nature of the character, precisely. He has not told me about it. But he never had brown hair, nor did he adorn himself with such a thing upon his forehead. Knowing what I know of him, it stands to reason that portion of his persona is fabricated. But as I said, I find it to be poorly distinguished if that is indeed the case. It is entirely possible that he has merely changed since we have last spoken.
I cannot say for sure how long it has been since we last spoke. Perhaps as little as a hundred, perhaps as much as a hundred thousand years.
I've never seen him bear a maskless face to so many, however. He claims a moon to me, but I doubt that.
Edited 2020-06-18 06:19 (UTC)
[A hundred or a hundred thousand, huh? I won't say that one's confirmed yet, but we're getting somewhere. Or at least, I think I am. Whatever. Just call that points in its favour.
What bothers me is that I already get the vibe that if this guy wanted to lie to me, it'd be real easy to do. Just slip it in with the disjointed labyrinth of commentary and you'd need a doctorate in his bullshit to ever know the difference. But it sounds more like... like he's talking about some weird personal issue, and I'm the one bringing it up, even if I didn't know it. He's dropping in all these details, leaving me holding the questions. Like, what the fuck does hair colour have to do with anything? Does that matter?
....
Does that matter?
Why the hell does it always have to be some fucking drama.
Just gotta hold that thought for now, I'm aiming for the big stuff.]
When you say 'mask,' do you mean 'mask,' literal? Or 'mask,' metaphorical?
What bothers me is that I already get the vibe that if this guy wanted to lie to me, it'd be real easy to do. Just slip it in with the disjointed labyrinth of commentary and you'd need a doctorate in his bullshit to ever know the difference. But it sounds more like... like he's talking about some weird personal issue, and I'm the one bringing it up, even if I didn't know it. He's dropping in all these details, leaving me holding the questions. Like, what the fuck does hair colour have to do with anything? Does that matter?
....
Does that matter?
Why the hell does it always have to be some fucking drama.
Just gotta hold that thought for now, I'm aiming for the big stuff.]
When you say 'mask,' do you mean 'mask,' literal? Or 'mask,' metaphorical?
... Literal. It is a physical mask. I was under the impression that you had seen my image on this network.
And I know you come from a shared reality. That doesn't mean I'm going to assume your literal mask is his literal mask, or that masks (literal) and masks (metaphorical) are mutually exclusive.
He has told you such strange components of his past, now hasn't he? Everyone in our city wore the same robe and mask, save for fourteen individuals. Well, depending on when you ask...
As for the metaphorical mask, I told you that his persona was not truly different from just who he is. Did you have some other concern about him?
As for the metaphorical mask, I told you that his persona was not truly different from just who he is. Did you have some other concern about him?
Edited 2020-06-18 18:59 (UTC)
[He didn't tell me shit.
That's the fucking problem.]
Wow. We're really going there, huh?
Okay, well. I don't know what your ontological comfort level is, so you'll just have to fucking forgive me if I'm describing you an elephant or serving up a double whammy or something.
It goes like this: a persona is still part of the whole that is a person's greater self. So if he has created a character, that character is still part of his 'character.'
And if he really is playing one, I have to ask who it is, and why. What does he want, and what does his character want. Are you following me?
That's the fucking problem.]
Wow. We're really going there, huh?
Okay, well. I don't know what your ontological comfort level is, so you'll just have to fucking forgive me if I'm describing you an elephant or serving up a double whammy or something.
It goes like this: a persona is still part of the whole that is a person's greater self. So if he has created a character, that character is still part of his 'character.'
And if he really is playing one, I have to ask who it is, and why. What does he want, and what does his character want. Are you following me?
... And that is because you think he’ll only show you that character, then? Have I the right of it?
My, my. I wonder why that would concern you. How peculiar, I find it, that you are the only one that I do not share a world with that asks after him with this... And with quite the thoughtful breakdown of his character. Hmm. Switch your video feed on. I would ascertain your intent before I give you my thoughts.
My, my. I wonder why that would concern you. How peculiar, I find it, that you are the only one that I do not share a world with that asks after him with this... And with quite the thoughtful breakdown of his character. Hmm. Switch your video feed on. I would ascertain your intent before I give you my thoughts.
[....]
.....
Fine.
But the shades stay on.
[It's no big, really. I have loads of experience at giving nothing away on camera.
Briefly, I consider angling my camera somewhere that isn't going to put any of my art collection directly behind me, but after a moment's consideration, I decide he hasn't earned that. Or rather, that he very explicitly has.
I know that some might call it self-sabotage, but I prefer to call it an overture--one representative of my full level of intended honesty.]
.....
Fine.
But the shades stay on.
[It's no big, really. I have loads of experience at giving nothing away on camera.
Briefly, I consider angling my camera somewhere that isn't going to put any of my art collection directly behind me, but after a moment's consideration, I decide he hasn't earned that. Or rather, that he very explicitly has.
I know that some might call it self-sabotage, but I prefer to call it an overture--one representative of my full level of intended honesty.]
Edited 2020-06-19 04:54 (UTC)
but you should look at it. The search tag at the very least
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hythlodaeus
2020-06-19 04:55 am (UTC)(link)
[Hythlodaeus similarly turns on his camera. Sorry, no green eyes. They’re more a pale grey. He’s removed his mask to see a little better. He looks at the man before him before scanning the area. An eccentric, or perhaps just an enthusiast. Amaurotines similarly loved their muscle animals. But he’s so unfamiliar with so many of the creatures here that a question forms on his lips. He saw a Machoke earlier so... His eyes focus on the poster behind the other as he speaks, unbothered. ]
... That artwork. Was that painted from life?
... That artwork. Was that painted from life?
Edited 2020-06-19 05:00 (UTC)
[I contemplate raising my brows a couple millimetres; as with a lot of facial movements, it's the kind of gesture I'd have to decide to perform, and this time I choose not to.]
You like that?
Inspired by, let's say. You should see the real thing. Absolutely breathtaking.
[Unfortunately--and I do mean that, sincerely and wholeheartedly--we're not here to talk about art. Or I'm not.
Maybe later, though.]
You like that?
Inspired by, let's say. You should see the real thing. Absolutely breathtaking.
[Unfortunately--and I do mean that, sincerely and wholeheartedly--we're not here to talk about art. Or I'm not.
Maybe later, though.]
[Hythlodaeus’ eyes settle back upon the... small but fit man before him. He tilts his head and stares for a moment as he thinks. Open-minded, clever, a sense of humor... certainly a little odd. Coworkers he said? ]
He must have been embarrassed. I asked him directly when I arrived if he had any suitors.
He must have been embarrassed. I asked him directly when I arrived if he had any suitors.
Fucking excuse me?
Wrong. Literally every word of what you just said was wrong.
If he's embarrassed--though I really fucking doubt it--then I'd say he probably fucking should be. And I'm sure as hell not his fucking suitor.
I do see what he was talking about now, though. About you specifically.
Guess I've been wasting my time here after all.
[The video fucking ends because I hang it up.]
[God.
Fucking.
DAMN it!]
Wrong. Literally every word of what you just said was wrong.
If he's embarrassed--though I really fucking doubt it--then I'd say he probably fucking should be. And I'm sure as hell not his fucking suitor.
I do see what he was talking about now, though. About you specifically.
Guess I've been wasting my time here after all.
[The video fucking ends because I hang it up.]
[God.
Fucking.
DAMN it!]
[Thirty minutes later, after the absolute strangest incident of the front desk attendant’s life, Hythlodaeus sends a drawing of a bipedal horse man both magnificent in musculature and rendering.]
[There is a second image accompanying. ]
“This was real. I can show it to you someday soon.”
“This was real. I can show it to you someday soon.”
[I'll be honest: once I hung up, I stopped actually feeling angry at all. I just got myself all pissed off over it while I was trying to explain how many levels he was wrong on, and now, thirty minutes later... I don't know, I wasn't planning to block him anyway, but maybe I should have.
This art, though. It's magnificent. I haven't seen the hand that could put mine to shame in... I don't know. I guess I haven't been looking, but still. I guess I'd inferred he was the same kind of whatever the fuck Solus is claiming, but this is really something.
God damn it.
What the fuck do I do with this?
Save it?
Well, yeah. Obviously. I've done that already.
Reply?
Maybe. Maybe not. I'll think about it.
Depends on what Solus is actually up to.]
This art, though. It's magnificent. I haven't seen the hand that could put mine to shame in... I don't know. I guess I haven't been looking, but still. I guess I'd inferred he was the same kind of whatever the fuck Solus is claiming, but this is really something.
God damn it.
What the fuck do I do with this?
Save it?
Well, yeah. Obviously. I've done that already.
Reply?
Maybe. Maybe not. I'll think about it.
Depends on what Solus is actually up to.]
[Needless to say the weekend was...a nightmare. Literally, seeing as there was a very horrific one that went down, that turned the weekend from something frustrating to something arguably traumatizing. Re-traumatizing? Whatever.
Regardless, he's exhausted, and while falling asleep betrayed him before, he can't very well fight off his exhaustion any longer. Which is why, when he returns to his apartment, he lets himself just collapse on his broken bed (he'll fix that later, maybe). He barely gets out of his clothes, and honestly is still in his frock before exhaustion takes him. The rest of his clothes are discarded on the ground, or still on the bed.
Just...wherever they landed, it didn't matter. Nothing really did, other than sleeping. And sleep he does, that is, until he hears the apartment door open. His eyes snapping open, but he remains still, listening...wondering if it might be any residual worry from what he had endured, his mind playing tricks on him, perhaps?
But there's light coming in from the door, because of course there is, why would he be able to get any rest whatsoever?! Sitting up, he glares over at what he can see of the person entering—till he realizes who it is.]
...Finally decided I was worthy of your presence, hm? Well, who's to say I feel the same about you.
[Someone's a little salty!]
Regardless, he's exhausted, and while falling asleep betrayed him before, he can't very well fight off his exhaustion any longer. Which is why, when he returns to his apartment, he lets himself just collapse on his broken bed (he'll fix that later, maybe). He barely gets out of his clothes, and honestly is still in his frock before exhaustion takes him. The rest of his clothes are discarded on the ground, or still on the bed.
Just...wherever they landed, it didn't matter. Nothing really did, other than sleeping. And sleep he does, that is, until he hears the apartment door open. His eyes snapping open, but he remains still, listening...wondering if it might be any residual worry from what he had endured, his mind playing tricks on him, perhaps?
But there's light coming in from the door, because of course there is, why would he be able to get any rest whatsoever?! Sitting up, he glares over at what he can see of the person entering—till he realizes who it is.]
...Finally decided I was worthy of your presence, hm? Well, who's to say I feel the same about you.
[Someone's a little salty!]
Edited 2020-06-30 05:30 (UTC)
[Hythlodaeus sighs as he ducks into the doorway, securing the door behind him. He has a shopping bag with him that he sets on the counter before he approaches. That bed is just so depressing looking being broken like that, but there's nowhere else to go.]
[And what a terrible weekend it was. Perhaps not... quite as terrible? Well, besides being unable to ignore being dead and a Creation in his truest state.]
I'm sorry.
[A beat, as he tries to quell the guilt that wracks him.]
Is it alright if I stay?
[And what a terrible weekend it was. Perhaps not... quite as terrible? Well, besides being unable to ignore being dead and a Creation in his truest state.]
I'm sorry.
[A beat, as he tries to quell the guilt that wracks him.]
Is it alright if I stay?
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