Tyler Tian Huang | 黄泰勒田 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asmywitness) wrote2020-03-03 05:40 pm
asmywitness) wrote2020-03-03 05:40 pmEntry tags:
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[[Tyler screens his calls - anyone who tries to actually call him, he'll text back in reply.]]
asmywitness) wrote2020-03-03 05:40 pm
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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...
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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.
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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.
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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.
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'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...
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.