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

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)

"I do not believe there is a single matter that Steven Durante is. So, that goes without saying, really. Even if he knows some useful things at times, speaks very little of any perceived expertise." Hades remarks bitterly, with a wave of his fork before he stabs it into the small remainder of his sfougato.

"Hythlodaeus, do not food push. He will eat if he is hungry--besides your constant need for chatter is more like as not what has been keeping him from eating, than any assumed shyness." His attention returns to Dirk, "but as you were saying? If aught at all, I can explain what I must to Hythlodaeus, if what you are about to say entails what I might suspect."

Shy?

Him?

Really?

No, that's gotta be an attempt to get a rise out of him. What the fuck.

He raises an eyebrow at Hythlodaeus, then simply shakes his head before turning to Emet.

".... Steven's from a good decade or so before the Condesce seized power, but he's also read some of Homestuck."

He pauses, realising that with Emet doing at least some of the talking, he might actually be able to do some more eating.

"He just hasn't read enough of it."

Dirk puts his fork back into his sfougato and puts that in his mouth.

“...It’s fun to bait your listener sometimes, isn’t it?”

He turns towards Hades, resting his head on laced fingers. “I trust you understood what he had to say, and you can keep me occupied with your chatter instead.”

One by one, the cutieflies begin to float into the house. They look like they need some dire brushing.

He looks duly intrigued to hear that Steven not only is from a world similar to Dirk's own, but that he too is familiar with the 'story' Dirk's from. To some extent, at least. It would...explain why Dirk puts up with him, he supposes. He had not suspected that was the case, not exactly, but it's not too horrible of a shocker at least.

That explanation is enough for him to start with at least, and with an affirming nod to Dirk, he turns his attention back to Hythlodaeus. First he finishes the last part of his slice, washing it down with a drink of his juice, he then settles in to ignore the first part of what Hythlodaeus says, to focus on the next.

...Except he pauses for a moment to look at the procession of Cutiefly. With a shake of his head, he goes back to looking at Hythlodaeus.

"I am confident you are aware of the philosophical argument that all fiction is in essence its own reality, while all realities are likewise fiction, yes? As in, our very lives, the world we come from, the events we have lived and suffered--while very real for us, may very well be fiction to another world entirely. It does not make our experiences any less real, nor any less fictional for those removed from our reality." He figures it'll be best to start here, even if Hythlodaeus would likely accept the explanation starting from the gate about Dirk being some illustrated online story.

"Well, the story that recounts the events of Dirk's own reality and those in which he experienced such with is named Homestuck. Through these toils of he and his, did he achieve his own completion and thus ascended to Godhood--becoming the narrator of his own tale. In essence, he is similar to Lord Zodiark in ability: he can rewrite reality as it needs to be, though not without its limitations."

Hades pauses for a moment, but then decides to continue. Should he stop for Hythlodaeus to pick this apart with questions, they'll be stuck here all day. So he continues before Hythlodaeus can start to ask anything.

"In the reality that Steven is from, this is but a mere work of fiction, no more real to him than any other novel based on the imaginings of its author. No more real than any story you could concoct on a whim. Yet, as we see, Dirk is very much as real as you or I." As he explains, he gestures with his hands as he is wont to do. Getting a bit more lively as he speaks of it. It really is fascinating to him, and speaking of it is a pleasure in and of itself.

"With that being said, Dirk is several centuries ahead of Steven's point on the developmental timeline of their similar worlds, though they are divided by different instances of reality. Reflections, in a sense, much akin to the Shards and the Source of our frayed reality. Needless to say, if one might have had more time to learn of the history of his own civilization in a factual and decidedly less biased manner, it would be Dirk. Though, I suppose in practice, it may be Steven."

Hades glances to Dirk, not quite to check on him, but in a sense he is. Merely to keep him somewhat included in the conversation, without needing him to properly engage. Just a small gesture that he's not being discluded while Hades is discussing him like a mere topic of intrigue.

"As for the matter of the Condesce... She was an extraterrestrial invader who subjugated Dirk's world ere his birth, and lead man to his inevitable doom. Dirk was one of two survivors, though that is a bit of a misnomer, seeing as he arrived well after the fall of mankind. Nevertheless, he was able to survive in his desolate world, and was able to research into the civilizations of the past. Those from ages ere Steven's own present, and those that were."

He supposes here is as good as any to pause for Hythlodaeus' questions. he could go further into the depth of 'Homestuck', but it's always better to start with some foundation, and then add to it.

"Ere I continue, have you any questions--or you any additions?" As he asks, he first looks to Hythlodaeus, and then Dirk.

Edited 2020-08-31 07:11 (UTC)

"Nope. This is real fucking fascinating."

Facetious though his words may sound--and bland neutrality though his face may wear--Dirk really does find Emet's recounting downright fascinating.

The bare essentials, plucked from the narrative spun almost solely by Dirk Strider himself... and who doesn't like to hear a story about themself?

"Keep going, I'm into it."

Hythlodaeus looks at Dirk and finally, finally feels like he’s actually seeing him. He doesn’t have questions, really, as his mind is sharp and he trusts Hades to provide the answers that he will need.

It’s mostly a bunch of yes, continue.

He looks back to Hades, then to Dirk, considering his words carefully before he speaks. There is one niggling thought, and he can’t help but want to peer at the last page and see.

“You have suffered through unimaginable pain, yet emerged victorious. Strangely, I cannot help but feel unease within my heart for you with that parallel to Zodiark. Who might seek to shackle you?”

The cutiefly queue finally reaches Hythlodaeus, the lot of them squeaking and beeping for his attention after that very confusing knock out. Two of them bring over the soft bristled toothbrush. He takes it in his massive hand and lays his palm flat for the first one to rest upon and receive its brush out. The rest begin to float ambiently around, growing bored of the line.

Edited 2020-08-31 22:06 (UTC)

"Very well."

If Dirk's into it and wishes for him to continue, that's a good sign. That, and it seems like Hythlodaeus is keeping up—he isn't surprised, that's very like him. That, and what Dirk went through isn't horribly abstract from what their own reality foisted upon them. Their troubles were reality spanning, and nowhere near the mundane troubles that someone like Steven deals with.

However, Hythlodaeus' question...well. It's an astute one, again not surprising. Indeed, if Dirk is his universe' Elidibus and by extension Zodiark, then there was bound to be someone to oppose him. Someone foolish enough to do so.

"She is named Calliope." Hades answers simply enough, glancing to Dirk for a moment, before turning to Hythlodaeus, "and she is every bit as a petulant spinner of lies as the mortals' dear Mother."

He's about to add more, but then...Hythlodaeus begins to brush his Pokémon at the table, and Hades' face scrunches with distaste.

"Really. At the table? Can this not wait?"

Dirk almost bothers correcting Emet. Technically, the Calliope abusing her Muse powers is the alt version, the one that effectively killed and cannibalised her brother, the one that Roxy left behind.

That said, there's really no benefit to explaining the lore about Cherubs to Hythlodaeus. It's not relevant.

Of course, at that point a whole gaggle of ragged cutieflies bumbles in, en queue and on cue.

Emet beats him to the punch, so he just raises an eyebrow, finishing off his slice of sfougato before any wayward bugs decide to land on it.

He merely absorbs the bit about Calliope silently. It’s easy enough to commit to memory.

“... I suppose I can delegate,” he says, calling over the eldest of the yamask. For the exchange of a poffin and the signed promise of more where that came from for everyone, the yamask floats off to gather the others.

Within but a moment, the yamask brigade is back, gently corralling cutiefly. That calm yamask takes the tooth brush in its grip and floats away, leading the cutiefly away as if he were the pied piper. One by one, in the background of Hades’ recounting, the Yamask hold the cutiefly one by one, petting them and brushing them out.

“...go on.”

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