Tyler tries not to grimace at that description of Hythlodaeus, but at the same time he's not sure how much of a state Solus is in to notice it regardless. It certainly doesn't do anything to sell him on the other man; it only encourages him to dedicate himself further to forthrightness if he ever encounters him again.
When he continues - well, admittedly it does make Tyler briefly consider whether their debates are of any substance now, if Solus claims to be so unaffected by everything. But on the other hand he wouldn't be getting such quick and thorough replies if the man didn't at least enjoy them. And he's so patently affected right now that it's not really hard to believe as a lie in some aspect.
But more important are his descriptions of himself. Immortal, bodiless, stealing a host to interact with the world... perhaps his phrasing is so abstract as to encourage him not to overthink it, but he does find himself worrying about its original inhabitant unbidden, and he frowns; and the expression only deepens when he continues. Children, he never would have fucking guessed.
Your position is inherently flawed, he signs, with the flat edge of brutal honesty. Disregarding the fact that the body and son aren't genetically yours, it can be assumed you still loved their mother - or mothers, I don't know - stood by her in her pregnancy, raised the children for all that you were able. Most mortals of my culture would consider you the truest father, especially since artificial insemination is increasingly common.
His frown softens, turns pitying again. But logic aside... you just called him your eldest. He's not letting you pretend that didn't happen. Whether or not you want to, you consider him yours. Any other argument is moot in light of that.
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When he continues - well, admittedly it does make Tyler briefly consider whether their debates are of any substance now, if Solus claims to be so unaffected by everything. But on the other hand he wouldn't be getting such quick and thorough replies if the man didn't at least enjoy them. And he's so patently affected right now that it's not really hard to believe as a lie in some aspect.
But more important are his descriptions of himself. Immortal, bodiless, stealing a host to interact with the world... perhaps his phrasing is so abstract as to encourage him not to overthink it, but he does find himself worrying about its original inhabitant unbidden, and he frowns; and the expression only deepens when he continues. Children, he never would have fucking guessed.
Your position is inherently flawed, he signs, with the flat edge of brutal honesty. Disregarding the fact that the body and son aren't genetically yours, it can be assumed you still loved their mother - or mothers, I don't know - stood by her in her pregnancy, raised the children for all that you were able. Most mortals of my culture would consider you the truest father, especially since artificial insemination is increasingly common.
His frown softens, turns pitying again. But logic aside... you just called him your eldest. He's not letting you pretend that didn't happen. Whether or not you want to, you consider him yours. Any other argument is moot in light of that.