"You have reached Solus zos Galvus. I fear I am unavailable at the moment, but should your query be of an urgent nature, pray leave a message. I shall endeavor to return it anon."
[(Un)fortunately, I put my Gear back down pretty much as soon as I saw confirmation the message was received. I wasn't trying to dodge him, though I do take the precaution of leaving the live feed first (but not before I take a screenshot of that final scene.)
Really I just needed to get up, try to clear my head.
But if Solus gets there and blames me for this, that's on him. I didn't break into his kitchen and build that autodecapitory contraption, and he can check Hythlodaeus' Gear history that I didn't talk anyone into anything, neither.]
[The lack of response is chilling, and it certainly does not inspire the best of thoughts nor rationales. Though he prides himself on being a man of logic and reason, he still can be susceptible to the siren song of his emotions, to his worries.
He does not message Dirk back right away, there's no attempt at prying, no accusations, none of that sent his way before he makes it home. Even when he does, he does not send him anything—how could he when the scene he comes across is such? Immediately upon seeing it, Dirk is exonerated of any accusation or blame.
The mess of the kitchen hardly matters in the wake of the vision of Hythlodaeus' limp form, dressed in white robes, kneeling and bent forward, head resting on a stack of sushi platters...
The obvious red line of impact from the blade, though it cut, it was not deep enough to truly kill him, and yet there he lies. Still. Lifeless. As if he was never animate to begin with. The set up which allowed the knife to make its mark would be impressive, if he was not gripped with the despair of what this all meant, or why it came to this.
Instead of worrying about cleaning the mess up, he busies himself with checking that Hythlodaeus is indeed alive (he is), attempting to wake him (he doesn't), then lifting and carrying him to his room. There he will clean the shallow wound, dress it, and settle him into their shared bed.
He should clean that mess up. He should...do a lot of things, yet all he can do is sit besides Hythlodaeus and watch him as he slumbers with deep concern, grief seizing his heart as sorrow fills his eyes.
It is far less the fear that Hythlodaeus would die, that he knows is an impossibility. Rather, that he would be driven to attempt such, despite it being utterly illogical, impractical, and pointless. That he would go to the trouble of setting up this whole elaborate scene to do so, that he would allow Dirk to—
Ah. That's right. Dirk...
Finding the will to rise to his feet, he returns to the kitchen, curiously inspecting the scene once again, and finally noticing the laptop that was used to stream the very event. With quick steps, he crosses over to it and inspects the streaming program, finding very little useful information—no one is viewing it, and it has been left running this whole time.
Well, he supposes he knows now how Dirk found out, but not why. Closing the stream, and the laptop, he finally sets to work cleaning the kitchen, but in the meantime:]
Rest assured, Hythlodaeus has been taken care of. He is unconscious, though I worry his state may not be from his ill-begotten scheme, rather I wonder if he has fallen under the same affliction I had.
Regardless, I wish to express my gratitude, though your means of conveying the message certainly left something to be desired, it was all the same effective. However, if you would grant me one concession. I saw the stream, and have since shut it down, yet I know not why you were privy to it, nor why Hythlodaeus felt the need to show you this grim performance, so then I ask you: why?
[He really isn't sure if the pain in his chest is residual from what transpired here with Hythlodaeus, or if reading Dirk's honesty is what pricks it anew. Well does he know that Dirk wishes not to speak with him, yet reading it...]
Well, it would seem that Hythlodaeus cares not that you wish to avoid me. Though, there is little reason he would set you up in such a fashion, he holds no contempt for you, as he shouldn't.
If this is an apology, it is a far more wicked one than I have ever seen him give, but then again, he is not one to apologize ordinarily. Mayhap he felt inspired by your own offering of beheading when you had apologized to me?
I cannot say for certain if he was aware that this slumber was coming, though it would make sense. After all, while my part has come to a close, his is far from over—even if he plays but a supporting role.
[Which is his not quite subtle way of admitting to Dirk that he knows...he dies. It's not meant to be some bomb, and in fact he's not fully thinking about how it may be received by him. More so a means to support the fact that Hythlodaeus does indeed have more to see, and that he could have very well gotten a hunch.]
A premonition before the update... or. Upd8. I guess.
That alone has earthshaking ramifications, the potential to be a total fucking game changer. The fact that Solus is glossing over it--oh. I see.
So the cat's out of the bag, and Hythlodaeus ran it over with his car. Can't let it run too far.
If the purpose of one begat the other, it could even be considered reasonable. But I don't think Hythlodaeus' purpose was 'reason' so much as 'control.' That was the one part of his narrative left to him, so he killed the cat himself for skinning.
You know, because there's more than one way to skin one of those... nevermind. Forget I said anything.] I wouldn't count yourself out just yet.
I also wouldn't assume Hythlodaeus' setup was to malign me. If his plan to force us to talk, then he already succeeded.
Yes, well from my lack of experiencing my own fate, I know little of what my death truly means. Since, ordinarily, death is far from the end for my kind, yet it was significant enough to leave Elidibus convinced of my cessation.
But enough about that, it hardly matters when my course will remain the same here. As for the matter of us speaking, I see not the point of us avoiding it. Are you truly so reluctant? I see naught good coming from such avoidance, particularly if we are meant to continue on with our escape.
We cannot well pretend there is nothing between us, that there are not words left yet unspoken.
Very well, if you are in such a poor emotional state that you cannot will the words necessary to converse with me over such matters, then I understand. Little would I wish to further trouble you when you are not quite prepared, it would be rather churlish of me to press.
So, for now, mayhap it would be best I attend to Hythlodaeus, and you attend to yourself. Once again, I am grateful for your alerting me of such matters, grim though they may be.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Really I just needed to get up, try to clear my head.
But if Solus gets there and blames me for this, that's on him. I didn't break into his kitchen and build that autodecapitory contraption, and he can check Hythlodaeus' Gear history that I didn't talk anyone into anything, neither.]
no subject
He does not message Dirk back right away, there's no attempt at prying, no accusations, none of that sent his way before he makes it home. Even when he does, he does not send him anything—how could he when the scene he comes across is such? Immediately upon seeing it, Dirk is exonerated of any accusation or blame.
The mess of the kitchen hardly matters in the wake of the vision of Hythlodaeus' limp form, dressed in white robes, kneeling and bent forward, head resting on a stack of sushi platters...
The obvious red line of impact from the blade, though it cut, it was not deep enough to truly kill him, and yet there he lies. Still. Lifeless. As if he was never animate to begin with. The set up which allowed the knife to make its mark would be impressive, if he was not gripped with the despair of what this all meant, or why it came to this.
Instead of worrying about cleaning the mess up, he busies himself with checking that Hythlodaeus is indeed alive (he is), attempting to wake him (he doesn't), then lifting and carrying him to his room. There he will clean the shallow wound, dress it, and settle him into their shared bed.
He should clean that mess up. He should...do a lot of things, yet all he can do is sit besides Hythlodaeus and watch him as he slumbers with deep concern, grief seizing his heart as sorrow fills his eyes.
It is far less the fear that Hythlodaeus would die, that he knows is an impossibility. Rather, that he would be driven to attempt such, despite it being utterly illogical, impractical, and pointless. That he would go to the trouble of setting up this whole elaborate scene to do so, that he would allow Dirk to—
Ah. That's right. Dirk...
Finding the will to rise to his feet, he returns to the kitchen, curiously inspecting the scene once again, and finally noticing the laptop that was used to stream the very event. With quick steps, he crosses over to it and inspects the streaming program, finding very little useful information—no one is viewing it, and it has been left running this whole time.
Well, he supposes he knows now how Dirk found out, but not why. Closing the stream, and the laptop, he finally sets to work cleaning the kitchen, but in the meantime:]
Rest assured, Hythlodaeus has been taken care of. He is unconscious, though I worry his state may not be from his ill-begotten scheme, rather I wonder if he has fallen under the same affliction I had.
Regardless, I wish to express my gratitude, though your means of conveying the message certainly left something to be desired, it was all the same effective. However, if you would grant me one concession. I saw the stream, and have since shut it down, yet I know not why you were privy to it, nor why Hythlodaeus felt the need to show you this grim performance, so then I ask you: why?
no subject
I don't know if I'm relieved or disappointed. I know which one I 'should' feel, if we're keeping track of that.
And I know how I feel about the possibility that he's... moving forward in canonical time, when he was already ahead of Solus.
...and I'm not moving at all.]
He sent me a cleaver in the mail with the date, time, and web address on a card.
So it's either an apology or a setup. Which one, I honestly couldn't tell you.
Truthfully, I don't even want to be talking to you right now.
But if there's a chance he knew this was going to happen....
no subject
Well, it would seem that Hythlodaeus cares not that you wish to avoid me. Though, there is little reason he would set you up in such a fashion, he holds no contempt for you, as he shouldn't.
If this is an apology, it is a far more wicked one than I have ever seen him give, but then again, he is not one to apologize ordinarily. Mayhap he felt inspired by your own offering of beheading when you had apologized to me?
I cannot say for certain if he was aware that this slumber was coming, though it would make sense. After all, while my part has come to a close, his is far from over—even if he plays but a supporting role.
[Which is his not quite subtle way of admitting to Dirk that he knows...he dies. It's not meant to be some bomb, and in fact he's not fully thinking about how it may be received by him. More so a means to support the fact that Hythlodaeus does indeed have more to see, and that he could have very well gotten a hunch.]
no subject
A premonition before the update... or. Upd8. I guess.
That alone has earthshaking ramifications, the potential to be a total fucking game changer. The fact that Solus is glossing over it--oh. I see.
So the cat's out of the bag, and Hythlodaeus ran it over with his car. Can't let it run too far.
If the purpose of one begat the other, it could even be considered reasonable. But I don't think Hythlodaeus' purpose was 'reason' so much as 'control.' That was the one part of his narrative left to him, so he killed the cat himself for skinning.
You know, because there's more than one way to skin one of those... nevermind. Forget I said anything.]
I wouldn't count yourself out just yet.
I also wouldn't assume Hythlodaeus' setup was to malign me. If his plan to force us to talk, then he already succeeded.
That's an observation.
NOT an invitation.
no subject
But enough about that, it hardly matters when my course will remain the same here. As for the matter of us speaking, I see not the point of us avoiding it. Are you truly so reluctant? I see naught good coming from such avoidance, particularly if we are meant to continue on with our escape.
We cannot well pretend there is nothing between us, that there are not words left yet unspoken.
no subject
Or spill your guts to my voice mail if you got to, but I don't have nothing else to say to you, so get that through your head already.
no subject
So, for now, mayhap it would be best I attend to Hythlodaeus, and you attend to yourself. Once again, I am grateful for your alerting me of such matters, grim though they may be.