Dirk Strider (Ultimate) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
uber_marionettist) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
victory_road2020-08-10 12:35 am
uber_marionettist) wrote in victory_road2020-08-10 12:35 am
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.
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.
no subject
"That your preference is 'yes.' It's also conveyed the size of your flaccid dick to a socially unfortunate degree of accuracy."
no subject
Unfortunately, right when Dirk answers this last question, it's right when he's taking another drink. Consequently this means he's now choking on said drink as he has to wrestle down his laughter at the observation. At times, Dirk can keep his thoughts to himself, at other times, he can be so direct and scathing it's impressive.
He knows Hythlodaeus won't take offense to this, but it does not stop it from being absolutely hilarious. Winning the wrestling match, Hades painfully swallows his juice, his throat burns from the struggle, but it does little to stop the shaking of his shoulders as he continues to keep from laughing outright.
The humor still tinges his tone, "well, well! Nothing escapes your notice, does it? Ever perceptive, I do believe you may have some competition, Hythlodaeus."
no subject
"Though... I suppose I would worry if that which was at his eye level escaped his notice."
He glances at the clock with that nearly faraway look. "Well, I suppose there is the rest of the day to plan for," his eyes shift between them. "Your work will be asking after you now, won't they?"
no subject
Not that Dirk doesn't think he's funny. He's better than 'funny,' he's absolutely fucking hilarious, and he knows it. People who disagree are objectively wrong, and that's that on that.
To no one's surprise, he doesn't smile; he doesn't budge an inch. And he's very purposefully refusing to acknowledge the observation about his height.
Fortunately(?), Hythlodaeus takes the opportunity to switch gears abruptly--to work, for some reason--and Dirk does some quick mental maths.
".... a heist will buy us another week without checking in."
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But he's happy to let the conversation veer elsewhere, and even more at the mention of a heist and how it may afford him more time before having to return to work. While he has designs to leave this world as quickly as possible, he's got sense enough to know a week away from his duties is not going to cost them anything.
"A heist, hm? I do suppose that would be much more interesting to engage in than the general monotony my day job otherwise affords me. Have you something in mind, or shall we brainstorm?"
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"...On social media, I saw that many of the unconscionably wealthy left for Sinnoh, leaving their neighborhoods with much less foot traffic."
He shrugs, palms up. "If someone were to relieve them of their overabundance, I think it would be doing them all a favor."
no subject
That sure does put a different light on what Emet said earlier about giving his Elite Four winnings to Hythlodaeus.
Huh.
".... not to change the subject or anything, but you've got me curious now. I'm not clear on at what point wealth becomes unconscionable, to be honest, but is it really doing anyone a favour if their 'excess' riches are being funneled instead directly into criminal enterprises? How is that actually better than idle wealth or whatever the problem here is?"
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"Well, while the money funneled into the criminal organization may fuel criminal activity, it likewise serves a crucial role to society as well. True, that it would be far better that no crime would come of it at all, yet such lack of funding would not end crime, so such is not the cause of said amoral behavior, thus it is not in direct correlation to the crimes committed." He shrugs with a smile.
"I find the crime of witholding from the economy, and thus your fellow man, far worse, for with it inspires covetousness and desperation. From it does crime find its birth, and through such self-centered actions does disparity and inequality arise. Better that these funds would be dispersed into the flow of income, returned to influence the economical cycle, instead of being hoarded away like a precious treasure it ought not be."
"You see, when one has far more than they would ever need, even beyond their most luxurious desires that money can purchase, they hold back the growth of society for their own sense of pride and egotism. Even lowly criminals participate more as productive members of society than most men of wealth. And most men of wealth are merely criminals of a less public nature, anyway."
no subject
"...This is all beside the fact that I'm still not convinced that the people here are terribly real. Or if they are, their very existence is as terrifying as it is vexing. Unless all crime here is motivated purely by greed and not a lack of basic necessity. ...Even while attempting to account for the role Pokémon play in all of this."
So it begins to take shape as a thought experiment, or a problem to solve, and then they have magical monsters to deal with. Not to mention the space llama. Goddammit. It just gets stupider every time he turns it around.
"In either case, I would like to explore that which ordinarily we might not see. I would measure their response to mayhem."
no subject
Isn't money as a concept kind of made up after a certain point? Wouldn't that be a systemic problem rather than an individual one?
It really doesn't fucking matter--not on Earth C, where the economy is fake and pretty much exists for fun and something to do, and not here either, where the existence of a real 'aconomy' assumes a level of completeness that this world pretty flagrantly lacks.
Which makes Hythlodaeus' answer much more satisfying as well as interesting.
"Yeah, it'd be pretty fucked up if they were real, but--" he gestures loosely with one hand, "I have experience with this exact thing. Pretty sure they're only real insamuch as they possess intrinsic motivation and a consistent physical presence; they 'fill out' the world, that's it."
He shifts to rub his chin thoughtfully, or at least rub the scruffy dusting of off-white on his chin.
"Mayhem sounds good to me. The clone-a-cops have never succeeded in stopping a suitably motivated player character--by which I mean me--before. I almost had a chance to find out what happens if a plot event isn't satisfactorily resolved by the players, but the Aurora League stopped me before I got that far."
A half-second pause.
"By which I mean Ford, really. Ford Pines stopped me. He's not bad one-on-one, but if you ever have to tangle with him, look out for the metal plate in his skull. It hurts like a motherfucker if you hit it by mistake."