victory_road | This road is going nowhere [Closed]

Entry tags:

This road is going nowhere [Closed]

Who: Dirk Strider and Hythlodaeus.... Emet-Selch shows up around comment #80
Where: Goldenrod, XIVhaus Garden
When: August 15th shhh this is forward dated
Summary: Can't believe Dirk is the one cornering someone else for acting weird for once tbh
Rating: PG except for swears? [EDIT] ....convo got nsfw around comment #70

Hours after Dirk finally slept (and then woke up again) while Emet did not, Emet himself falls asleep (the natural way) and Dirk is left... free. Free to wander the house on his own. Free to track down some answers. Or rather, to lie in wait for the source of his questions and then ambush him for said answers.

Hythlodaeus has generously yielded all the clues he needs to establish the location; a sad, dead excuse for a withered 'garden,' comprised though it is of a single dead tree and an open sky, with sunlight streaming from overhead and soft, gently buzzing fuzzbugs by the dozens. No special preparations are required for this--though he does take the time to let Salome out of her Pokeball to circle the sky overhead, it's for his convenience and not out of any desire to threaten the eight-foot neurotic with a jealous magical bird. (In fact, it's for the lack of that desire that he sends her spiralling up and out of human line of sight.)

Then, he just has to wait.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

.... is that all.

Dirk pulls out his Gear wordlessly. In a short couple of minutes, Hythlodaeus's Gear notifies him of a transfer for P210,000... which is to say, every cent Dirk earned against the Elite Four.

Then he pockets his own Gear again.

"Done."

Hythlodaeus' poker face would be more impressive if he had a true concept of what earning money around here is like, or what things that aren't inexpensive cotton clothes or cups of tea at the café cost.

"Ah, this should certainly cover the expense. Thank you, Dirk," he gives him a smile slight enough to be genuine. "I'll hurry back before it gets cold."

And with a quick shuffling of his sandals onto his feet, he ducks out into the world. The shop is thankfully just down the street, an inconsequential distance, especially for a man with his stride. He may purchase their entire stock, but he isn't too worried about that.

As that exchange happened, Hades was content in merely watching the two interact...peacefully. Honestly, it was like night and day, and he could not be more glad for it. Watching as Hythlodaeus leaves, his eyes flick over to Dirk as he gives him a soft and curious smile.

"Come, have a seat." He says as he gestures to the chair besides him, where a plate is set. "Though, I cannot help but wonder: how much did you bequeath him with? Awful kind of you, really."

"Not really," Dirk doesn't deflect this time so much as straight up deny any good on his part. He sits down, at least; his feet hurt, his shoulder hurts, and what he's politely going to refer to as his ass already hurt before this. He rests an elbow on the table impolitely, putting his weight on it to take it off any part of his body that's sore or else somewhat burnt.

"This was basically my fault, whether or not it was on purpose. So I just sent him my winnings from the Elite Four."

While not an amount, Hades' expression is one of surprise all the same. If he remembered correctly, that was...a lot of money. Far more than one might need for the measure of revives he'd need for his creatures.

"...That is quite a sum of money, is it not?" There's clear disbelief in his tone, but he doesn't seem upset or anything. As he's looking Dirk over, he does notice at least a little bit of redness to his shoulder, and how he's leaning quite a bit on his elbow. Perhaps he'll wait a moment to ask about it.

In the meantime, he'll busy himself with serving Dirk some of the breakfast that Hythlodaeus has prepared for them, though keeping an eye on him all the same.

Edited 2020-08-29 05:40 (UTC)

....is it really that surprising?

"Two-hundred and ten thousand," Dirk confirms.

Sure, it's more than necessary. It could even be called excessive. Maybe. Depending on who you are.

But--

"I mean, it would have been pretty inappropriate to calculate the needed sum to the penny and send exactly that." He frowns.

That makes Hades pause before placing the slice he's cut for Dirk onto his plate. Staring at him a little owlishly as he blinks in the selfsame manner. But then he picks back up where he left off, plating the piece and then busying himself a moment with pouring Dirk a glass of the grapefruit juice.

"Nay, you are not wrong. You need not be stingy in such a manner, however..." he pours himself a glass as well, picking it up once he places the pitcher back down. Settling his gaze at Dirk as he takes a drink. The act almost like a punctuation for his thinking.

As he pulls the glass away, swallowing, he opens his mouth to speak. Closes it. Squints for a moment. Then smiles affectionately.

"It does seem a touch excessive. There is such a thing as being too generous, but little do I want you to think I'm criticizing you. More...Hythlodaeus is not quite skilled with handling money. But it is no matter, I will handle it once he returns. You have my gratitude all the same, my dear."

Edited 2020-08-29 06:02 (UTC)

Oh.

Fine. Okay. Maybe it was 'excessive.'

Emet can keep going as smoothly as he likes, that pause was still noticed. The dramatic bit with the glass was definitely overkill.

"I don't exactly pay rent," Dirk sighs, knowing full well he risks now sounding indifferent to the damages. He isn't mad about the performance or the platitude, it's just... okay, maybe he feels like that was its own kind of excess.

His mouth tightens into a grim line.

"Might as well make it a point to demonstrate my sincerity."

If the amount he sent Hythlodaeus was about sincerity, the expression on his face is one of seriousness. He's fucking trying, all right?

He certainly catches that. How couldn't he? Dirk is subtle, but Hades is observant. That grim line that his mouth forms would be telling enough on its own. As such, Hades offers him his own apologetic frown, but so too does he reach for Dirk's hand, slipping his hand into his if he'd tolerate it.

"Well, your sincerity is ever appreciated, truly, pray do not think otherwise. Mayhap it was uncouth of me to air my concern, forgive me. I suppose I may be a little off from...well, everything."

He does really appreciate Dirk trying, and he does not wish to diminish his efforts. However, he also doesn't want Dirk to be taken advantage of in his attempts, either.

At the shop, the clerk decides to sell him unopened flats from the back. Even with the absurd quantity, Hythlodaeus can’t help but notice that the total is far, far less than the amount sent. He somehow doubted that he only accidentally sent those two extra zeroes.

...Was this a true hearted apology? Done without pomp or parade.

He smiles at it before he loads himself up and maneuvers very carefully out of the shop.

He wasn’t kidding about how quick it would be, even with the absurd quantity. With five boxes stacked on top of one another and needing to stoop over just to enter, he is the picture of absurdity. He sets down the enormous haul in the plain view of the kitchen and whistles.

Twenty or so yamask wake from their slumber, pulling their masks off the walls and lining up. He explains their task in quick, efficient sign. They sign back in unison before they get to it. It is adorable. Hythlodaeus releases a breath as he rejoins his companions.

“There’s quite a bit of change,” he starts. “I’ve never sent currency before... where might I find the option?”

Edited 2020-08-29 07:54 (UTC)

It's a surprise when Emet reaches for his hand, but Dirk suspects that the gesture might be as much for Emet's benefit as his own. He doesn't reject it, closing his calloused hand over the warm, soft glove fabric with Emet's inside.

"Whatever. Don't worry about it."

He only removes it when the door opens, and he sits back just in time to watch the score or more of masks that he had kind of hoped were decorative prove themselves anything but.

'Adorable' is not the word he would have used to describe the affair.

"Nowhere," he tells Hythlodaeus when that elaborate procedure is over. "Keep it. Convert it all to pennies and make yourself a sick bed out of it. Commission a sculpture, buy out every ticket at a sports event. Spend it all on eggs and make the biggest sfougato breakfast this world has ever seen. Whatever gets you hard, it's yours."

The lack of an immediate draw back from Hades' hand is a small comfort, especially feeling his hand close around his. It's almost comical when one thinks about it, really. Sardonic, moody, condescending Hades openly showing care and concern for someone like this. Then again, most the people who had proven themselves worthy of his affection often times were the ones smothering him, while Dirk requires the proper kind of coaxing and show of affection.

Really, Dirk draws out his more nurturing and affectionate side just with how he is.

He's about to contest the notion of not worrying about it, but then Hythlodaeus comes in. Dirk pulls his hand away. The platoon of Yamask set off to work, and the moment is lost. Silently he watches Hythlodaeus and Dirk interact, settling in his seat and taking to his juice to keep himself busy as he mulls over the interaction prior, relieved that Hythlodaeus intended to return the unused amount—but he nearly chokes on his drink when Dirk starts making suggestions for what to do with the money.

Partially because it's all rather absurd and humor in that regard, but also because Hythlodaeus might very well do exactly that. Of course, the comment about 'whatever gets you hard' does little to help the situation, either! Roughly swallowing his drink down in lieu of spitting it on Dirk, he raises his eyebrows as he looks between the both of them with bewildered amusement.

"Or, perchance, we could come up with a far more practical use for it." Really, he hopes Hythlodaeus will let that ending comment from Dirk go, but he knows he is not one to be so lucky.

Hythlodaeus covers his laugh in that familiar way, so taken with surprise by all of that.

“Ever am I community minded. To allocate a large sum of resources should be agreed upon, should it not?”

A wry smirk spreads on his face as he chuckles against his curled fingers. “But to combine a couple suggestions as well as ensure that this is an investment... I understand there are no clubs that cater to our tastes, yet there is still demand. A growing demand, as far as I can tell.”

Again his gaze goes between Hythlodaeus and Dirk, but before Dirk can speak up (if he even would at that suggestion), Hades chooses to. Really, it's not a terrible idea, and he's considered the prospect a few times, but after his conversation with Hythlodaeus about such matters...he worries that he's meaning something far more, ah, niche than lucrative.

"If I may..." he begins, glancing once more between the two, settling on Hythlodaeus. "Indeed, there are no clubs that cater to men of our tastes, and while what you say in its growing demand is also true, I do think we ought to go for a more general appeal, than aught more specific. You have spoken to me about a lack of acceptable establishments to sate your appetites, but I think erecting a business with this purely in mind would be a fool's errand."

Now, he glances to Dirk with a smile, choosing to illuminate what they're meaning with the shrowding of vagueness not serving any purpose toward such.

"What I mean to say is thus: putting forth money into making a 'gentleman's club' so to speak is not a poor endeavor to follow, but aught more specific in service than that would more likely spurn would be clientele than attract, would you not agree?"

Emet may not realise it, but the discrepancy in the roles he plays in his relationships with Dirk and Hythlodaeus--affectionate or stoic, moody or comforting, seeking or reluctant--has been reassuring to Dirk.

The disparity is to him like a promise kept. Real, solid proof that he has no one in competition, direct or otherwise, no threat of Hythlodaeus taking his (rightful) place. That it bridges the gap between his own expected performance and Emet's specific position relative to his is an easement of its own. To be sought, solicited, reached out for...

Back in the present, he levels Emet with a nonplussed stare for the somewhat dramatic reaction to his relatively mild tangent, an undignified sputtering or extremely unnecessary citrus shower narrowly averted. But he doesn't trust himself to have followed Hythlodaeus' logic, nor his.... what was that, even? A proposal of some kind, obviously, but what the fresh hell for?

He sits, stiff-backed, expression immobile as Hythlodaeus proffers and Emet explains, but the consequences of clarity are the a bit steep, considering the day he's been having.

And truthfully, Dirk cannot think of anything he'd like to do less than co-own a business with Hythlodaeus.

"It's your money," he says again. His deadpan is impeccable.

Then, after a long sip of grapefruit juice, he adds, "I thought you wanted to eat breakfast."

"That it is, and that I do."

Hythlodaeus gives a soft little smile of acknowledgement before taking his seat. He tucks right into his food, realizing suddenly that this has left him ravenous.

He doesn't drop his manners or quicken his pace; his languid movements serve to feed him all the same. One his swallow, he speaks to the thoughts floating around in his head.

"Then it is simple enough to add an antechamber. The mystique will surely bolster what interest is already there. I have been told that there is no "gay scene" to compete with, and we know well what happens to beasts without competition," he says with exaggerated air quotes.

Like Hythlodaeus, Dirk's reminder of breakfast serves as a cue to do just that. Here he had been so worried about having breakfast with the two of them, and then everything else had distracted him. And so, he begins on his own plate. Mulling over Dirk's response, but so too Hythlodaeus' wish to include Dirk in this venture that he clearly has no interest in.

Well, not yet anyway.

As Hythlodaeus picks up the conversation again, Hades glances at him with an appraising look, an eyebrow quirking at the suggestion of an antechamber, but then he goes on to speak of this 'gay scene'. Hades is an intelligent man, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out the meaning through the context of the conversation, however the word does catch him all the same.

"Really, is that what the term they choose for us? How interesting." He means it too, primarily because it almost seems a little random by his measure. Really, it makes him wonder the terms they use for the other sexualities, but that's hardly the point of the conversation. His mind is rarely idle, however.

"Nevertheless, there are far better conversations to have over breakfast. Especially when not all parties are particularly interested in the topic." He says, glancing at Dirk with a sympathetic smile. He got the cue, loud and clear. It's obvious Hythlodaeus did not.

Edited 2020-08-30 08:38 (UTC)

Once both Hythlodaeus and Emet are both actually eating, Dirk finally takes up a fork of his own--and just in time, as it turns out, because Hythlodaeus doesn't know when to quit.

The sfougato is, thankfully, still warm.

He has a full mouth when Emet asks the most unwelcome question possible, and it spares everyone whatever irritable noise of would have come out of him immediately otherwise.

"Call me gay and see what happens."

"...Perhaps Dirk would like to pick the topic of conversation," he says tucking some hair behind his ear with an impenetrable smile.

Hythlodaeus serves himself a second slice of sfougato as he finishes his first slice. He sticks that reaction into his mental pocket to ask Steven about later.

The response from Dirk certainly earns him an eyebrow raise. Not one in judgment, but mere surprise. With his unfamiliarity of the term's usage in such a way, he's left without context of what the apparent offense is with it. However, he can surmise some idea, and with how mortals tend to be with one another, he wonders if there's actually something derogatory to it...or perhaps Dirk merely rejects the label.

Not that labels like that mean anything at all to Hades, but Dirk, unlike Hythlodaeus and himself, grew up knowing the phantoms of a mortal world long since lost.

Instead of pressing the issue, Hades focuses on his food, nodding a little solemnly to Hythlodaeus' proposition that Dirk picks the topic. Since Hythlodaeus' own choices have done little to ease any tension, and Hades is in an ill position to think of entertaining topics at the moment, rather more like to speak of his concerns on the current topic.

Though, he is glad to see Dirk finally eating. That concern being put to rest, finally.

Edited 2020-08-31 01:33 (UTC)

Son of a fuck. It doesn't occur to Dirk that his phrasing would be perceived as any more antagonistic than the rest of his dialogue until Hythlodaeus' oh-so-delicate, oh-so-pass-ve-aggressive response, and at that point Emet is already nodding, and--

Dirk finishes chewing. Swallows.

Sighs.

"Look, you just can't parrot whatever terms you pick up uncritically, or without doing some actual research. If you don't know the history or what kind of discourse is attached, then you don't know enough to say it. That's free advice, and I suggest you take it because it's for your sake, not mine."

"My apologies, I hadn't realized it was a... slur," he makes a circle with his hand as he conjures the word. "But I did truly mean to pass the floor to you," he tears some pita, dips it, and eats it.

He doubted it was a slur. It was on a drop down menu on Gravlr.

"Who do you think the resident expert on these matters is?"

"Well, where did you garner your information—oh, do not tell me..." He rolls his eyes as he realizes the answer to his question. "It was Steven, wasn't it?"

Shaking his head, he sighs. He should have figured that Steven would have given Hythlodaeus information without any sort of history attached nor proper explanation. Turning his attention to Dirk, he continues, "if I am to learn of the context of such a label that could very well pertain to me, I suppose I would much rather learn of it from you, than aught from him. Well do I know he drowns in his biases."

"I'm no expert on this place's history, but neither is Steven Durante."

Dirk has eaten over half of his slice of sfougato, and he'd intended to finish it before getting involved at all.... now he gives it a final, reluctant glance before resigning himself to the fact that he will not get to finish it until this conversation is over.

Looking up, however...

"....."

He meets Emet's gaze before turning his face to Hythlodaeus from Emet and back again.

"One of these answers is only going to make sense to one of you."

“...It was. Yet in his defense, he is the one who showed me the app I use. So he has provided usable information for me on this topic.”

He turns back to Dirk and shrugs and laughs.

"Well, I don't understand, and I don't see any reason I need to start right now." Said plainly and with acceptance of the situation.

And unlike Dirk, this does not prevent him from eating. He starts on his second slice.

"...Don't be shy. You can eat."

Edited 2020-08-31 03:29 (UTC)

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