asmywitness | IC Inbox

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[[Tyler screens his calls - anyone who tries to actually call him, he'll text back in reply.]]

Well, this day had already been one hell of a roller coaster, but what's another sudden drop off, or an unexpected loop-de-loop?

Between the unexpected visit from Steven, the equally unexpected news that he and Hythlodaeus were making drugs in his kitchen (and apparently are friends???), and then to top it all off that debate that went...no where good. Solus is feeling especially raw. Being drunk and high helps nothing, as well. Then to hear all of what Steven had to say about his own personal struggles with himself and his morality only added more to his already cramped and deafeningly loud mind.

Which is why he's on his way to somewhere more quiet. Away from the busyness of the city, away from people. He's dressed far less flashy than normal, which helps him blend in a little better than his usual getup, but he's still pretty distinguishable. However, because of his state he doesn't quite seem to be aware of those around him, no more than them serving as physical obstacles to his destination. And while he does seem to decide to sit on a secluded bench in a less busier part of the city, even when others walk by he does not seem to see them. Like they're nothing but at all. Like he's somewhere else entirely.

He's quite the sight to come across: sitting forward with his elbows rested on his knees, hands clasped together, his head hanging. Due to the angle and his hair that works to hide his face, he's afforded at least a little shielding from the eyes of others. To most, he might merely look as though he's thinking deeply about something, but to those much more astute, the slight quiver to his breaths may make it far more clear that this is not simple contemplation.

The man may very well be silently weeping.

Tyler does not typically go out of his way to interact with people on his way home. Even when he's only going in to work and report something to their higher-ups, he dresses up a bit in a comfortable outfit for the rising heat, but he's actively ignoring most of the local populace to look at his phone instead, until a psychic nudge from Isis gets him to pause.

...he'd be more suspicious of Solus being on the direct path back to his apartment if it wasn't another ten minute walk away.

Don't get him wrong, he's still fairly suspicious regardless. He's never going to get over his inherent mistrust of the man (and it's a genuine shame, he's aware). And Tyler's about to dismiss it and keep walking when he notices the man trembling, just faintly, when he draws a breath.

And immediately his gut folds as an internal debate rages. He's never been perfectly willing to enjoy or ignore someone in distress, but it's still Solus.

...fuck, he doesn't know if that's a point for or against the man.

That's the clincher, then, that makes him move towards the man before he gets called out for staring. It takes a little coaxing ~~and a rather large bribe~~ on the walk over, but when he's standing just shy of the bench Solus gets a soft mental poke.

Are you... alright?

The poke is alarming—for a couple reasons. For one, he's high and drunk, for two he didn't even notice Tyler's approach, and for three...well, it's been a long damn time since he's felt that mental connection. He visibly jolts from it, and his head snaps up to look at Tyler with wide and wet eyes.

His face recoils with self-aimed disgust as he quickly turns his face away, bringing one hand up to rub at his eyes as he grimaces. Great, just great. This is exactly what he needs while he's like this. It almost seems like he's just going to ignore Tyler for a moment, like that will somehow save him his dignity. But after a slow breath in and then out, he turns his attention back to him.

Not willing to assume that Isis will oblige him, he signs back, but lacks all the usual obnoxious way he does it. Yet, there is a strange sluggishness to it, like his motor skills are hindered.

I wish I could say that I am. But please, you need not concern yourself.

Edited 2020-07-17 04:14 (UTC)

It's an instinctive reaction, to the sudden jolting movements; his eyes widen at the sight of Solus in tears, and one heel slides back a fraction, but he doesn't go anywhere.

He's just. Really not sure what to expect right now. He's intimately familiar with the smell of Persim berries by now, even if Solus has apparently taken some measure to tidy himself before he came out, but he doesn't doubt there's more to it than just that. Something seems to have actually deeply affected the man.

When Solus replies in sign, Isis snugs firmly down to ignore him once more, but Tyler frowns. He's never seen the man use such limited body language in his motions. Ever.

Don't do me the disservice of acting like I'm not already. I wouldn't have stopped otherwise. Which is true, to his own confused chagrin. Is it alright if I asked what happened?

He doesn't expect the man to give him the truth, but he can't not offer.

What is he even supposed to do with this? He's already in such a state, already far too emotional and vulnerable than he likes to be, and he barely has the control over himself he'd need for some a sensitive topic. Yet, somehow he finds himself more inclined to speaking with Tyler than not. Perhaps he actually wants the company, as pathetic as it may make him feel to admit that to himself. Maybe he needs Tyler's pragmatism at the moment.

With a nod, he acquiesces.

...Very well. Truth be told, he begins, quite a lot has in relatively short order. Pray, have a seat if you wish, it would be remiss of me to expect you to stand.

Pointedly, he makes room for Tyler, so that they're not knocking shoulders. He's well aware of Tyler's discomfort with him, and even if he's in the throes of emotion, he can be considerate regardless of what one might think of him.

There's only a moment's hesitation before he does take the seat next to Solus. He'd hardly call the moment intimate as of yet, but it's definitely the closest he's allowed himself to be to Solus physically since... well, that disastrous flight. When he brings one leg up to rest across the chair, resting his foot on his other knee, it's just as much a metaphorical barrier to give himself some space as it is helping angle his body towards Solus for easier signing.

Isis hops off his shoulder and into the crook of that raised leg, but Tyler doesn't say anything just yet. He's just waiting, with uncertain but open expectancy for Solus to start at his own pace.

It's really distressing how he can't seem to hide the look of surprise when Tyler sits down. He expected Tyler to decline, or at least be more hesitant to do it, and yet. Well, it seems today is just full of surprises, but at least it seems to be taking a better turn.

Likewise, he shifts to better face Tyler, but he does not attempt to encroach on his space as best as the bench can accommodate. Right, he agreed to explain, and oddly he looks...uncomfortable. Uncertain, really. It's alarmingly obvious he's really off his game at the moment, and not just because of the Persim berries.

I was awoken today to find Steven in my kitchen with Hythlodaeus. Apparently the two of them have become fast friends and accomplices. He pauses a moment, realizing that really makes it seem like this particular breakdown is over that, and so he quickly adds, worry not, I am not so sensitive over aught so pitiful, but it did little to help matters.

Look - when he's given Solus the benefit of the doubt in a subject before, he's learned far more than he has from being actively aggressive and combative towards the man. Even if there is some thread of genuine sympathy he's indulging, it's just good logic to hear him out.

Though he can't expect that was very high on top of his list, and his eyebrows raise quite sharply as a tinge of fear twists his insides. Which is a stupid response, he berates himself quickly; Steven is his own person who can make his own life choices and stupid mistakes with someone who reminds Tyler even more of their Keeper than Solus has managed to.

I didn't know about that. But it's more a surprised aside than any kind of bitter comment, and when he continues he's got a rather dry look on his face. I can definitely see it as a bad start to the day.

Really. Steven has not told you? Interesting.

He's not sure what to make of that, considering how possessive he was acting towards him. What is Steven's game, here? Is the man more clever than he gave him credit for? Is Hythlodaeus actually getting manipulated here--no. No, he knows that can't be, his thoughts are really getting away from him. So too is his expression, his gaze had drifted from Tyler while his brow furrowed.

But then he jolts with realization that he was spacing out, and so he turns his attention back to his company. His chest hurts, and he still feels that burning sting of grief at his eyes, but even so he can't seem to keep his mind on track. He knows why, but lord is it frustrating.

Right. Well, I found myself rather rudely appraised of their arrangement. Stunned by it really, considering Hythlodaeus is well aware of the rift betwixt Steven and myself. I certainly made my discontent of such known...I had stepped away to cool my head after Steven... He pauses then, his face grimacing, and then he shakes his head. Nevermind. The point is, I had returned, and decided to indulge them in their folly at Hythlodaeus' request. Naturally, Steven and I clashed once more, we spoke of his...perversion of events, before we found ourselves on a topic far more...

His hands stop, and there's clear emotion behind them as he mulls the vague mention over. Then, as if he hadn't stopped at all, he finishes the thought.

Personal.

Edited 2020-07-17 10:11 (UTC)

Watching Solus actively zone out as his gaze drifts from Tyler is one hundred percent making him think that there's either a semi-lethal amount of Persim in his system, or alcohol on top of whatever he did partake. Neither option is particularly reassuring.

He flinches a little when Solus jerks back to the present and faces him again, and notices the fresh wetness around his eyes. He really does look exhausted, physically and evidently emotionally.

I'm not terribly surprised, he admits, albeit somewhat reluctantly. Steven can be somewhat ruthless when he eschews his public face. I've been at the short end of his ire before, and he doesn't hesitate to make low comments. But I'm surprised Hythlodaeus (-and there's no fancy tricks to how Tyler spells it, simply signing H-Y-F with one hand-) would disrespect you as such, to force you back into interaction with a man who makes you actively uncomfortable.

With all the shit Tyler could, has and will continue to say about Solus, forcing him to interact with Hythlodaeus isn't on the list. But there's a sense of irony somewhere here, that he's saying that to Solus.

Edited (hythlo has a dumb name) 2020-07-17 10:38 (UTC)

If respecting my wishes or my discomfort ever served as a hurdle for him, little would he and I have become friends. There's almost as much fondness as aggravation behind his expression as he signs that. It's true, ever is Hythlodaeus one to wear a person of interest down, a war of attrition, one that Solus is ever the loser of when it comes to Hythlodaeus.

However, I cannot fully put Steven to blame for this, for ordinarily his words are but wind to me. There is little that anyone can say to me that would affect me in such a way, but... He pauses, thinking about Steven's reaction to him, and idly wonders if it's better to tell tyler about it befor Steven does. He glances at Tyler for a long moment, his mouth pursing into an uncertain and thin line.

For any of this to make sense, I suppose I should explain something about myself. You know I am an Ascian, but you know little what that truly means. I have explained the struggle my reality faces, but little what my personal means to survive is.

We Ascians...to become such, we are relinquished of our flesh, of our bodies. This body before you is not mine--never will it be. I have made it take on my likeness, but in order to interact with the world that has been denied to me and mine, we must use suitable vessels. A regrettable necessity for our continued survival. For our labors under Lord Zodiark.

A fact that Steven did not take kindly to, but I am not surprised nor upset by it. However...Hythlodaeus and I found ourselves in a debate over whether or not these acquired bodies then become my own--they do not--for he was under the misapprehension that our reality works in the same measure it once did, ere the sundering. It does not.

He stops for a moment, looking distracted once again. That grieving expression returning for a moment, before he realizes it's there. Quickly, he pushes it away with an ingratiating, sad smile.

In my time playing the role as a mortal, I have sired two sons. However, Hythlodaeus and Steven are of the opinion that they are indeed my children, but seeing as the body in which served such purpose, and the lie I played in so doing... Again he pauses, his face twisting into something a little pained as he closes his eyes against the sting that threatens to give away his true feelings. His jaw is tight, and the rational part of his brain is telling him to stop here, to not go further. But the inhibitors in his system, and the decades long ignored ache in his chest demands he says this much. As he continues, he does not look the least bit convinced by his words, and the glossiness of his eyes are even more incriminating than he'd care to admit.

I posited that they are my body's children, not mine. My eldest-- he jolts realizing what he signed, and then quickly ammends it as he swallows that lead ball in his throat, the eldest of the pair grew ill, and passed well before his time. Had he been truly my own, such fragility would not be possible...

He knows he's over simplifying this. It's not as if he doesn't know someone can be a parent without true blood relations. He is well aware of this, but his grief and fear of pain has a poor habit of making him greatly simplify it all for his own ability to cope. Hythlodaeus indeed called him out on it. Emet-Selch, father of none, does not have to grieve his dead child. Does not have to live the reality that he loved his mortal son as he did, does not have to acknowledge that his hope that came to life with the birth of that child, likewise died with him...

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.

He can feel his throat tighten, as if it was being squeezed by some external force. Robbing him of being able to breathe, and perhaps in this moment, he isn't. Not while he's staring at Tyler a little owlishly, his brows slanting back, creasing his brow. It's a distressed expression, but one that he's clearly trying to rein in as much as he can.

It's not anger he feels, well...not towards Tyler. Whatever anger there might be is not for him, nor his words, but it's drowned out by the anguish he feels. The anguish that burns hot within his chest. That sickening twist that's so distinct to grief—and he would know it. He knows it all too well.

Also, he's aware that Tyler speaks true. So too did Hythlodaeus, even Steven to an extent, but it was easier to distract himself then. Easier to dismiss their claims—Hythlodaeus by his flawed understanding of the way the world has changed, and Steven by the venom behind his words. But Tyler, earnest and blunt Tyler seems to have the singular talent to say just the right combination of words that inspires deeper reflection. Not that Hythlodaeus cannot, but he knows Hythlodaeus' game, knows often where he might go with a debate, knows how to counter an argument he will make well before the other two before it has been spoken...

It's different with Tyler. Perhaps that's why he enjoys taking to debate with him, a fresh perspective, one from a man still learning, still forming his idea of the world. Such minds are crucial for their perspectives, for they see the world in a new light, without arrogance and ego utterly blinding them.

After a long moment, Solus finally takes in a breath, his eyes flicking away from Tyler for a moment, before returning. Then, finally, he replies.

I did not love her... Though she can never know such. I, indeed, stood by her when she was with child...cared for her during both. I treated her with kindness...and I gave her affection when she bade for it. Together did we raise...our sons. She—they...

He pauses a moment, his expression contorting with what can only be described as grief. But a moment later, he lightly shakes his head, neutralizing that expression best he can, before continuing.

Old age would claim her, as it eventually does for all mortals, yet she was comforted by such a fraudulent tale of tragic romance, never once doubting me, or the love she so believed... Even as I took her as my wife, even when she bore our children, it was not love that bound us. It was not love that kept me by her side.

I merely played my role to perfection.

As he signs, his hands have the slightest quiver to their movements, his fingers sometimes tremble ever so slightly when he pauses between a thought, as if to serve as a visible display of his mental process of finding the right words. And by the end of that, his hands form into fists. Not in anger, but more in an attempt to stop the fragile way they shake. Far too telling of his emotional state.

Edited 2020-07-18 03:00 (UTC)

There was something incredibly jarring about seeing Solus be gripped so entirely by grief. Him being completely unable to school his expression in front of Tyler; and even if he didn't have an impossible memory, he knows that he wouldn't forget that expression any time soon.

For all of his posturing and claims to endless, flawless immortality, it made him all too human.

And something in him aches for the man. Tyler has lost as well: nothing so intensely close as children, but he knows the same grief.

(Every time he and Solus talk, he hates him a little less.)

But he only has one real question about everything - and he doesn't even know if Solus is in a fit state to answer.

Did not, or could not? Zodiark held you mind and soul - any sense of devotion you had was trapped focusing on him. His own movements are calm and metered, compared to Solus's affected trembled. Surely you wouldn't grieve for them like this, or be so hurt by your argument with Steven if you truly did not.

He grimaces himself, for a moment, as his mind turns towards the memory of a bronze figure, turning without hesitation, running to his doom to give Tyler a chance at escape.

We are... more than our Keepers make us think we are. Some core part of us is immutable, something the fiercest tempering cannot extinguish. I'm beginning to suspect your empathy is yours.

That question is a tough one, but he does know the answer. It is not because of Zodiark that he could not love her, but he supposes it's possible that could also be the case. He hesitates to answer, letting Tyler finish his thoughts before jumping in to defend Zodiark, to dismiss the notion outright. However, he's surprised by the latter half of what Tyler says to him.

'Such moving empathy. It's as if you wore the feathers yourself.' Hythlodaeus' words ring in his mind as he considers Tyler's own. While he would be quick to deny such, or at least dismiss it, he knew well that his empathy was untouched by his tempering. That ever was he at the mercy of it. That it both has helped and harmed him in equal measure.

It's why he can mingle so well with the mortals, why he can connect to them, why he can befriend them...why he can mislead them, manipulate them, and bring about their ruin...much at the cost of his own suffering.

After a moment of looking away from Tyler for a time, contemplating his thoughts and feelings...

...I suppose you may be right. Perhaps my empathy has indeed stayed intact, but I cannot say that I loved her. Cared for her, I suppose, but I have never loved a woman, and I do not believe I could—and that has little to do with Lord Zodiark.

Even as he says that, he does not happy to admit as much. Not that he has a problem admitting that he's attracted to men, that much is fairly obvious to...well, anyone, but rather there's guilt there. Guilt that the woman who bore the boys he loved so did not bask in his affection the same way.

But I doubtlessly loved my sons.

He gets that much out, but the burn of tears in his eyes becomes a bit too much. Turning away from Tyler, he brings a hand to his face. Covering a good portion of it as he tries to stay his mourning, tries to keep from this embarrassing display of emotion. It's less that he's ashamed of having emotions or expressing grief...it just feels inappropriate here. Inappropriate before Tyler.

How long has it been since he's openly wept in front of someone like this? Eons, he'd wager. Perhaps not since after the Sundering, when he, Lahabrea, and Elidibus beheld their broken home. Their foolish and frail brethren—robbed of their memories, robbed of everything that had made them who they were. It was then that he knew deepest despair, and it was then that he had wept so hard and so brokenly.

Yet here he is, barely holding it together over the loss of a few mortals—his son in particular. It's ridiculous that he would be so stricken by the loss. These mortals, that in the grand scheme of things should not matter. Yet they do. Yet he did.

He had lost him first, and then he lost his wife... Titus, his youngest, had outlived "Solus", but so too would he lose him. Killed by his grandson for the throne of Garlemald, who then was recently killed by his son, by Estinien's account.

...Oh how his heart aches.

After a moment to attempt to compose himself, he finally removes his hand from his face, blinking back the threat of tears as he signs, my apologies...

Tyler has been nothing but patient with Solus as he stumbles his way through emotions he probably hasn't fully let himself feel in... he'd have to assume millennia, if not somehow even longer - but that doesn't stop him from bristling internally, making Isis glance back at him when that sense of recoil passes into her attention. It would be beyond stupid for him to judge Solus more harshly for not loving his wife, knowing that now, but that's entirely unrelated to the unsavoury taste it adds to the memory of their flight. He'd honestly thought the man was just dramatic, not gay; but then, he's had difficulty trusting his intuition since he left the Hedge.

He has to take a deep breath himself, when Solus covers his face and looks away, letting it out as quietly as he can, given his circumstances (breathing, he's found, is harder to judge than his voice when volume is concerned). He's sure that if he was a Changeling again, this would be the most bountiful Winter harvest he's ever seen.

When Solus looks up again, still so damp and red around the eyes, Tyler's own expression is calm again, if still folded just a little with empathy.

You don't need to apologise. Though I probably should for asking you all of this in public, knowing you're under the affect of substance. He doesn't know if Solus thought he was subtle about it, but it's worth pointing out for certain. If you're not opposed, I'd be willing to walk you back to work so people don't try and harass you on your way.

You should. But I have a feeling you won't. Little can I blame you for taking advantage of a ripe opportunity. Nevertheless, it matters not.

He might be out of it, but he hasn't totally lost his wits. He's...aware to a point that this likely was not fully out of the goodness of Tyler's heart. While he told Steven they were on civil terms, there's a reason he said civil opposed to other terms. While he certainly likes Tyler, he knows there's a rift there still. One that will take some time to cross—if it ever can be.

Though, he takes a moment to consider Tyler's offer, and while he doesn't need to go back to work, it is along the way back towards his place. Little does he worry about harassment, but perhaps he still would enjoy the company. And so, he gives Tyler a nod, pushing himself (a little wobbly) to his feet. He turns to look at him, giving him a tired and sad smile.

Thank you.

You never know when someone's going to try and offer you help when you don't want it; at least if Tyler's there Solus is less likely to be bothered by a well-meaning stranger.

Though Solus's callout makes Tyler huff quietly in self-deprecating amusement, he still stands up at the same time. He still doesn't want to touch the man, so he's glad when he can stand unassisted. If it comes to it, probably he'll just get Isis or Teller to carry the man back to the barracks or something.

You're welcome.

It's an odd feeling, this entire situation is odd to start, but to find comfort in the presence of someone he does not regard as a friend, let alone ally. Though, he supposes it has been some time since he's had more than mere enemies, so this is just as well. It does take him a moment to start walking, first turning to head off, but stopping a moment to squeeze his eyes shut. His hand rising to rub at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

Perhaps he stood too quickly. Perhaps standing at all after such an emotional ride, while being decently inebriated, was a mistake. Regardless, after a moment or two, he lowers his hand, shakes his head, and presses on. There isn't much to say as they walk, not that it'd be easy to regardless seeing as signing while walking certainly seems like a waste of time.

Idly, he wonders Tyler's thoughts regarding him over such a display. After what he told him, but his mind is easily enough sidetracked from such pondering. Particularly when he has to focus on things like walking and balance. Both of which he's doing fairly well with, despite his state of being. Regardless, it's rather easy to let one's mind wander.

He just looks utterly distracted as they walk and tired. The usual heavy slouch to his walk seems worse somehow. It probably is.

He's almost glad he's coming along, with how Solus seems to be forcing dedicated effort into not falling over, and it leaves him looking distracted and exhausted. Well he was probably the latter anyway but Tyler sure as shit didn't help with any of it.

He's still not quite sure what to make of it all. It's certainly not enough to swing the tide over to liking him, but with such a dedicated impression Solus had been wanting to leave earlier, he's fairly certain that now - knowing all of this, hearing his grief, and yet not feeling that fundamental shift of perspective, like how he did when he learned Solus was tempered - he's pretty sure that's not going to change. Now or ever.

Tyler doesn't think less of him, seeing him at his lowest. Probably Solus would enjoy the irony of it somewhere along the line.

If Solus chooses to stop, Tyler will pause as well - in case the man goes and vomits or something. But he's ultimately just here to guard, not lead.

In fact, he does stop. Though, not the puke, thankfully. He can hold his alcohol a bit better than that, though this is admittedly the first he's had of Persim berry weed. Probably not the best combination for a first time, but it's fine. He's fine. It's certainly a great deal into why he even said as much as he did. Why he could not contain his grief that he's otherwise locked down tight and ignored. One more onerous facet to his ever tiresome existence.

Slowly, he turns to look at Tyler, his eyes squinting a little as he seems to be examining him for a moment. Or, perhaps he looks conflicted, honestly it's hard to tell what he's feeling or thinking. But the weird moment doesn't last overly long, before he signs.

I believe it goes without saying I would be most appreciative if this stayed between us.

It will be bad enough dealing with whatever Steven makes of the information he shared, after all. Not that he thinks Tyler is one to go around and gossip without reason, but...

I know well you have no loyalty to me, and little do I expect it. So, I suppose I am asking this as a favor—man to man—without pretense or aught of the sort. A mere bid for decency.

Because he cannot expect any from Steven, he hopes that he can except the barest minimum from Tyler.

There's a vague look of concern on Tyler's face when Solus does stop, and turn very slowly to look at him, and he's starting to wonder if he should take a step back from under such a weird stare, until Solus finally signs at him.

It takes him a few long seconds to think of how to reply to it, honestly.

You're right. I don't. He gives a sort of resigned little quirk of a smile. But I don't have any reason to hurt you with it, either. I'm not going to tell anyone, and I wasn't planning on it to begin with.

Though he can begrudgingly understand why Solus would think so, given... well, everything.

There's a strangely candid look of relief and gratitude that displays on his face at that answer. He doesn't...fully believe him, he can't allow himself to be so naive when it concerns mortals, but there's a good portion of him that wants to, and in a sense does. The expression itself looks genuine, at the very least.

You're a good man.

That, at least, he does mean. He turns to continue on the path once more, but then he jolts like a thought just struck him, and he turns to look at Tyler again.

Ah, I realized you mentioned going back to work, though that is scarce my destination. It most assuredly is along the way, however. If you must needs depart once we arrive, it will not be remiss of you to do so. I will be fine.

Maybe he shouldn't aim to go back home, not when he doesn't know if Steven or Hythlodaeus are still there, but. Going to work, or staying in public, neither are better choices. Little would he burden anyone else with this matter, and that aside, what allies and friends he's made have all decided to rely on him. He could go to Dirk's, but he likewise does not want to burden him with this.

Foolish, perhaps, when one might argue Dirk is who should be there for him over such matters, yet Solus is ever the sort to bear his burdens alone. A lifelong habit that he's not likely to break any time soon, if he can help it.

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