asmywitness | IC Inbox

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

Mmm. No. I think not.

Try again.

[Worth a try. Somewhere there's less bittersweet sentiment, then.]

There's a cafe towards the northern end of Goldenrod that I haven't personally visited, the Houndoom Roast.

Much better. Shall I meet you there within the hour?

[He did not want anything swaying his judgment. Truly neutral is what he wants, and this seems to be as good a place as any.]

Of course.

[And in truth, he gets there a bit under ten minutes later. He doesn't know when Solus will get there but he's at least hoping he can order a drink and find a quiet corner for this to happen before then.]

[Tyler isn't left waiting too long. After all, Solus wishes to get this settled as soon as possible. It is enough time for Tyler to order his drink and settle in a corner. However, Solus does not worry himself with a drink. Dressed in a black waistcoat, a white button up, his usual gloves, and a pair of fitted black trousers and his usual knee-high boots, he looks every bit of serious as he is.

It's almost funny how good of a figure he can cut when he isn't drowning himself in his excessive layers, but that hardly matters here and now.

His expression is hard to read, mainly because it's very business-like. Flat and serious. Even as he approaches Tyler, his expression does not change, does not show the anger bubbling beneath the surface. Even has he pulls his chair out, and takes a seat. It isn't till then, and only then, that he even seems to acknowledge Tyler, besides the fact he clearly was joining him at the table.

With their eyes meeting, he signs in his typical fashion—languid, flamboyant. Perhaps a good sign?]

Greetings, Tyler. Thank you for agreeing to meeting with me at all. You could have refused, yet you did not. I believe this is as favorable a start as we could hope for.

[Isis is with him, of course, but the small bird is off on her own separate corner of the table on Tyler's side, sitting in a saucer and eating her own little cookie. She's quite content where she is, but she still side-eyes Solus when he sits down, and her feathers fluff just a little.

(And across the restaurant, resting casually in a Pokemon-cordoned zone, Allure the Alazakam is keeping an eye on things as well, just in case. Lydia insisted, and it was all Tyler could do to limit it to one.)

Tyler, on the other hand, adjusts so he's sitting upright and proper; perhaps a little stiffly, but you can hardly blame him. Emet's general attitude as he approaches does nothing to instil Tyler with the confidence that he's not in egregious trouble still.

He doesn't look quite as tired now, with a strong coffee in him, but his movements are still lacking energy; and while he's wearing long sleeves, there's no mistaking the care he takes with his injury, nor the ugly red blotching on his hand where he's removed the bandages, that are still partially visible under his shirt cuff.]

If you're going to punish me then I only ask you at least get it over with quickly.

Edited 2020-07-27 18:57 (UTC)

[Solus certainly recognized Allure, he had seen the Pokémon before, and his flawless memory extended to even recognizing creatures. Little does that put him at ease, but he's also not entirely worried. Negotiations of sorts have gone well between himself and Tyler before, and he hopes the same could be said for this interaction. Likewise, he is not alone, though his company is far from visible.

It would be foolish to go into this without precautions, after all. As much as he'd like to have faith in Tyler, that faith has been thoroughly shaken.]

Punish you? [He begins, his eyebrows lifting ever so slightly.] Nay, I wish to speak with you. To understand. Look, I had considered it, greatly I did, but that would be no different than what Steven had done to me. And what good has that brought any of us, really. I would be fairly hypocritical if I allowed myself to lash out without proper thought, without a proper course. Would we not merely be perpetuating the same misery and mistakes that got us into this mess?

Nay. I wish only to have a conversation, to see if we cannot reach some measure of understanding, properly civil accountability, and by the end of this we may find ourselves pleasantly surprised by what our efforts bring to fruition.

[He pauses a moment, and then adds:]

...it would be a lie to say this state of calm was of my own doing—you do have Steven and Hythlodaeus—[He finger spells the name, having not gotten into the habit of making sign-names.] —to thank for it. They both fought for me to show you mercy. And for it, they allowed me clarity.

[There's a sense of resignation to the notion that Solus was considering it. That Steven defended him isn't as full a surprise as it could be, but Hythlodaeus doing so, is, and his eyes widen a little at that announcement.

...he supposes he shouldn't waste the opportunity he's been given, then.]

After the weird weekend, I had Hythlodaeus set in my mind the same way I did you after our more disastrous encounter. I'd planned on leaving well enough alone until he messaged me asking for information on Steven. Matters of little consequence, until he alluded to the fact he knew I was a Rocket, directly because of Steven.

[He takes a deep breath and tries not to chew on his lips as anxiety bloats in his stomach like ice.]

I refused to talk further about it unless it was in person, so as not to incriminate either of us, but. Knowing that he knew who several members of the team makes him... I believed it made him a liability. I know the police are a joke here but I don't trust Hythlodaeus to not reveal a name in a fit of pique to another trainer, and they're far less inhibited. Especially with that hero group forming. [He adds that last bit with a faint sneer, brief as the expression is.]

...I offered to let him pick the place, and he chose at his usual meeting with Steven. Steven knew nothing of my plans, nor I his to recruit Hythlodaeus. When I arrived and attempted to make good on mine - to alter Hythlodaeus's memory, just enough so he would forget any names Steven may have mentioned, find it difficult to make the intuitive link between Team Rocket and its actual members - Steven intervened and stopped me before anything worse was able to be done than just hypnotising Hythlodaeus.

[Isis turns her gaze briefly from Solus to Tyler, as he pushes his sleeve back a little to make the bandages and burn more obvious for a moment, before he continues.] In my ire at Steven, I was careless and scalded myself. I don't have full clarity of Hythlodaeus's actions in the moments after, but when he approached me, I... [His breath quavers quietly as he inhales, lets its out slowly through his mouth. He feels sick, having to admit this to Solus.] ...panicked. I... couldn't help but see him as something else, and I lashed out. There was no true intent to harm there, just. A need to reclaim space, agency. We both left immediately after, and I've not communicated with him nor Steven since.

Edited 2020-07-27 21:10 (UTC)

[He watches him keenly—unnervingly so. Taking in every detail, every shift in expression, how even Tyler's hand might falter or he may wince from the pain of his burn. As he said he would, he listens to his side, trying to keep any anger or emotion it all might inspire in check. Of course there's indignation at the idea that Hythlodaeus could be some sort of danger—but he also knows that mortals spook easily, and Hythlodaeus has quite the large mouth when it comes to sensitive information.

After all, that's how Steven learned of his name.

As Tyler continues, Solus folds his hands in front of him, resting them on the table. The way he watches him is not unlike a cat would its prey—little is he meaning to come across so threateningly, but it's about all he can do to keep himself in check. However, he noticeably relaxes, or at least looks less stiff towards the end of the explanation. That Tyler would choose to be vulnerable and honest, to name his fault in this despite how humiliating it might be.

That? That restores some of his confidence in Tyler.

When he finally unfolds his hands, his expression looks softer, less stern, but pointedly serious. As he signs, his motions reflect this, nothing quick, nothing sharp. If anything, it would give the impression of something almost gentle.]

What happened between the two of you during the Weird Weekend? Hythlodaeus had mentioned his unease around Isis—and while I know well what she is capable of, I fear the worst for why he is wary.

[There's still a rather unhealthy amount of shame radiating off of Tyler, that doesn't really reduce when Solus asks his question.]

We encountered each other during the weekend, and his true form caused me to have a flashback... [wait, does Solus know what that is] I-- my mind sent itself back to the only other time I'd encountered a being similar to how he presented, my Keeper. I relived some of the trauma I experienced under him.

[It's not Hythlodaeus's fault, and he's trying not to frame it as such. It's difficult.]

Hythlodaeus tried speaking with me, as you said your people are able, and laid a hand on my shoulder in an attempt to force calm onto me. [It's hard to convey bitterness in motion but he's honestly not trying; he's not emoting much of anything, in fact.] Both of which just served to harm me further. I... believe Hythlodaeus transformed at that point, into a Natu. Isis took a stand in my defence at that point and started attacking him with intent to kill, but I managed to call her off, and left the situation.

[There's a lot going through Solus' head as he takes in the tale of what happened. One part of it is anguish for his friend, another is hurt that Hythlodaeus would keep this from him, and the third is anger. However, all that presents on his features is disappointment. His gaze flicking from Tyler to the bird beside him, and for a moment he considers grabbing the creature and squeezing the life out of it.

Though, he's well aware he cannot do so. That the creatures here are far more powerful than the mortal limits put on him and the others. So, instead, his grimly dismayed expression is about all that shows of the emotions regarding that. He does not blame Tyler, after all, by his claim he called her off. He knows well how fright can stun a man, how the residual effects of tragedy can strangle the mind and body both.

Such reactions have long since been tapped out in him. No longer does he feel those fear responses when in the face of his own rekindled trauma. The emotions are still there, he has merely learned to continue despite the fear and the pain. Despite the linger torment. A skill learned from eons of suffering—something mortals are not capable of.

A limitation of their ephemeral existence.

Finally, he looks back to Tyler, his jaw tight. It is rather good they are signing for this conversation, or else that and the lump in his throat might prove troublesome to continue this conversation.]

I see. [Is all he signs for a moment. There's an obvious pause as he collects his thoughts. Reviews the information again in his head, and then continues.] And so, by now I am sure you have come to realize that you are more a threat to Hythlodaeus, than he is to you, correct? I will not claim that he is not odd, oft his eccentricities have roused my ire and exasperation, but you must realize by now with all the evidence laid before you, he is not a threat.

Well do I know the damage suffered from the past can taint our perceptions, they can likewise make us into bumbling fools. But we truly embrace ourselves as these fools when we believe the warped perception of reality in light of the evidence that proves otherwise. Our likeness to your past tormentor is...regrettable, but we are not them. Hythlodaeus the least of all.

He has never claimed a life, he has scarce harmed another living creature. The man gets sick at the thought of eating another living being. He is a pacifist, and you would let your fear rob you of your senses before a man far more gentle than any mortal could ever be!

[He stops, realizing his signing was getting more exaggerated, the whipping and speed of his hands radiating his aggression and frustration. And so he stops. Takes a moment to suck in a breath, holds it for a moment, then breathes it out. Like an emotional soft reset. The disappointment eases from his expression, and he offers Tyler a tired neutral expression instead.]

What I mean to say is thus: whether you will it or no, the fear that has made its home in your bosom commands you. It will grow, it will fester, it will torment you. Slowly, it will rot away your morals, your sense of self, your bonds. It will consume and annihilate your very existence, till you are naught but a shell of the man you once were. Living in naught but pain and cause naught but it in kind.

You must needs ascertain command of yourself, lest you perpetuate the very cycle of suffering that has brought you so low. I will stay any and all retribution for the sins you have committed against me and mine. A mercy you may not be worthy of otherwise—but I have grown fond of you, despite myself. And as such, I expect only the best for and of you.

All I ask is that you seek the path to mend your broken heart, ere it leads to the breaking of others. You have already done so to Hythlodaeus. Make certain you do not do so again to those so utterly undeserving.

Edited 2020-07-28 06:10 (UTC)

[Isis hunkers down in response to the glare Solus sends her, her eyes narrowing with the same open wrath she can sense in him, but she doesn't move from her saucer.

Tyler keeps watching Solus talk, letting him say his piece, but every string of movement is another punch to the gut with how the man's speed is increasing, his aggression growing more visible with every move. By the time Solus stops himself, and takes pause, Tyler is only still sitting upright and watching him through sheer force of will, because he wants to just curl up and die. There's a sense of safety, really, in that Solus is letting himself be visibly angry about it - that's not a luxury his Keeper ever gave him - but that doesn't necessarily make it that much easier to handle.

The rest of what he has to say is... true. It is, and as much as he hates it, he knows it is. And it just makes him ache further, enough that his careful poise slips for a moment when he looks away after Solus is done speaking. He is tired, he is still sore, he hates everything about this, and he doesn't have the energy or presence of mind to properly control the utter loathing that slips lightly onto his face - but he's not pointing it at Solus, instead staring somewhat blankly down at his own hands as he signs.

He almost prefers the idea that Solus would punish him, rather than this gracious pity.]

You have too much faith in me. Some things are beyond fixing and I've been one of them for some months, since well before arriving here. I was content with not seeking out Hythlodaeus before, but rest assured I won't be doing so again now. [And a small smile twitches onto his face, a bitter thing as that loathing continues to stab deeper within himself.] You're correct about my heart, as you are most things, but I have no confidence there's anything left to repair. I'm as rich a monster as any I've ever written and would the will of this place allow it you'd not see more of me again.

[He knows better than to pity mortals. Knows better than to see them as anything but the frail, foolish, and fleeting existences that they are. Their pathetic lives naught but candle's flame to the roaring bonfire that is an ancient's. He knows better, has been shown time and again it is foolish to care, to waste time and energy on those that barely have either to begin with. These sorry creatures that are naught more than a mockery of the people he's lost—and while the mortals here that are not from his star, his reality, share not the fragmented souls of his fallen brethren...they too share the same fate. The same flaws. The same fragility.

They choose to perpetuate their misery, choose to harm one another, it's all the same! It is always the same. But, he supposes, he is ever the bumbling fool he was warning Tyler about. Because, despite the evidence proving his notions right, he cannot help but feel sympathetic to the loathsome way Tyler's features twist, the anguish that he bears upon his features. How it squeezes his heart, and makes his chest ache.

He really is truly pitiful, and Solus cannot help the empathy he feels. Nor the unhelpful thought of how mortal suicide has always been pointless, when their lives are so short already. Fortunately he has sense to not say that. Had this been someone else, he might have.]

Oh you are no monster, do not be so dramatic. You are damaged, perhaps even broken, yes, but even something smashed to minuscule fragments can yet be restored. Even if you may never be the man you used to be, you are far from gone. You need but the will, though it is no simple task by any means. But if an entire reality can be restored once it has been shattered, then I have my doubts that you are so special, so singularly resilient to healing, that you cannot.

[At least as he says this, he does look sympathetic, though the expression is decidedly conflicted.]

Truly there would be naught left to repair if you did away with yourself, but I have no interest in dictating that mortals extend their fleeting lives when they feel so beholden to death's open door. Nevertheless, while you have no choice other than to continue to exist with the rest of us, I would suggest you make the best of this shared prison. Might you use this time to try at the very least? What have you to lose, really. You claim you have naught left, so then that would be the answer, would it not?

If you try, you might get hurt, this is true, but if you do not, you will likewise face harm—as you have already. At least one has the chance to bring about a better life, though ephemeral yours may be, is that not worth the gamble? Are those you hold dear not worth it?

[Something about the sheer dismissiveness with which Solus waves off his ~~angsty drama~~ upset brushes against Tyler's irritation - which, honestly, helps in shaking it off more than any other emotion would have. That's Summer for you.

So he pushes himself to sit up a little straighter as Solus continues talking (and winces as he inadvertently puts weight on his sore arm), and actually pays attention.

Objectively, he knows everything Solus is telling him already. Too used to hearing it as mindless platitudes from Mai, when she was obviously trying to comfort herself more than him. Honestly, he's always been offended by the notion, and even now he feels his stomach curdle with resentment. Why should he be the one that has to change, again, when he's always been the one having to, to be everything someone else wants of him? Why can't he, just this once, be the one that doesn't have to? Why can't he be the one that gets to live his own goddamn way without anyone else's expectations weighing him into shape?

...because Solus was right, to his eternal chagrin. Because not changing would just keep hurting the people he cared about. As well as the people he didn't, and while he feels like he shouldn't care about them it still makes him nauseous to think of how close he was to actually breaking something of Hythlodaeus. If the man had actually managed to touch him...

Of course they are. It's myself I doubt. [At least the most of that self-loathing is gone, replaced by just plain exhaustion.] Humans aren't supposed to have memories like mine. An eternal, timeless mind overwhelms us - it's only through necessity and pain that I know how to bear the weight of mine. It's too easy to remember old mistakes, old habits, as if every time is the first time, and fall into them again and again because the path is already there. Too easy to... take things at face value, because I have something to match it to and make assumptions of.

[His hands curl into tight fists for a moment, then release.]

I didn't mean to hurt Hythlodaeus. I didn't want to. I can tolerate his presence the same I do yours, I find no problem in that, but some scars don't fade with time. I will be as terrified of him, or you, touching me tomorrow as I would have been the day I escaped my Durance, and with the way my mind works I cannot fix that. I can learn other things, I can adjust - even if it feels glacially slow to other people. [And his brow wrinkles, thinking of Steven still fearing he won't adjust to the other Changeling's new attitude.] It's not a matter of not wanting to. When it comes to thoughts of my Keeper, there will only ever be fear. Even if they're misplaced.

[The rigidness in Tyler's posture does enough to tell Solus of his irritation, but he doesn't care. The momentary upset did not matter in the face of the greater problem. So, when Tyler starts to reply, he likewise gives him his full attention. Though, his expression is not so stern as it has been, there's something more soft to his gaze as Tyler explains himself, explains his memory.

He has to hold himself back from correcting him, from telling him that such memory is what all people should have—but he has to remind himself that Tyler is not like his mortals. At least, not like a good majority of them. Still, he cannot help but feel pity for him, for his pain, for his torment.]

Your memory is just as mine. Eons feel instant, ancient harms are as fresh as those that are suffered in the present, never healing, never forgotten. But this need not be only a weapon, so too can it be a tool.

We may never be able to escape our torment, this is true, but we can better arm ourselves for it. Our burdens are for us to bear, not our loved ones, and so while it may seem unfair, and perhaps it is, we must merely make due. We must press on. Besides, I know you can do better, for you have made progress with me, have you not? Certainly you wish not to be touched by me, but you used to barely be able to speak with me, let alone sit next to me to offer an ear to my woes.

[Yeah, he's not about to forget that, nor let Tyler forget it. Not that either of them would, but it's useful as a reminder of Tyler's actual progress, when he seems fit to deny himself the credit that is due.]

You are right, that some scars never fade. Some scars never become scars at all, but remain open wounds that fester and bleed—fresh as the day they were forced upon us. But with memories such as ours, we have the unique ability to know the difference between that which reminds us of the past, and that which is the same as it. With more evidence and exposure to that which proves otherwise to such misgivings, it will only serve to benefit in the long run.

[He pauses a moment with that, finally giving Tyler a soft smile.]

Which means, while it is liable to be troublesome at times for both of us, I would like to offer my cooperation in assisting you on such a path to recovery. You need not answer immediately, but do think on it.

[Tyler wouldn't have been able to forget that in a hurry even if he had wanted to, but he still squirms slightly under the pointed use of it as a comparison. It's a fair stab, especially with how underhandedly he went about it, but... it wasn't wrong. Again. ~~It's irritating how often Solus is right on the money with him.~~ It's too easy to remember his own reaction to Solus after their incident - and even now, looking back on their argument in the hallway, it doesn't quite hold the same sting of anger that it did closer to the actual moment it happened.

The soft smile gets a slight ~~suspicious~~ raise of Tyler's eyebrows, but whatever snide or pitying aside he was expecting from it - some backhanded Solus-ism stained with condescension - he wouldn't have guessed an offer of therapy; and so he openly stares at Solus for a good few seconds, before his brain kicks back into gear.]

I... will definitely have to think about it. [But that's not a hard no - not from Tyler "fuck you fight me" Huang, by any stretch. It's not even a soft no, really, it's just confused. Even his code switching slips a little.] That's... not something I expected from you, honestly, I would have thought I was more beneath your attention than warranting personal assistance.

[He isn't surprised by this reaction, honestly he's more surprised by his own offering. But it makes sense in his mind: the more Tyler is left to his own devices without proper aid, the more this is going to continue unabated. The more these problems are going to continue, the same mistakes repeated. Which is utter madness, and Solus has no patience for such. This will help all parties involved, and even those who are not directly so.

It is entirely logical. It has nothing to do with him liking Tyler, though that certainly makes it an easier undertaking. This is purely, and without a single doubt, formed and fueled by rational thought, and not a single bit influenced by some foolish sentimentality.

As such, he gives Tyler a bit of a placating smile, shrugging a little with his hands out at either side of him, before he starts to sign.]

Well, it merely makes sense. After all, between Hythlodaeus and myself, we are a unique boon in your personal circumstance—though it may not seem such with how our existence torments you. But, as we have been made sorely aware, Hythlodaeus is not likely the one whom can aid you in such a way. Viewed thus, it is only rational that such would fall to me.

Despite our shortcomings, embarrassing missteps, and all of that... I would much rather lend you my aid, than to watch you continue down this path of suffering. It really is in the best interest for all involved, it is only rational that I lend a hand.

So long as he doesn't keep trying to aid me, I don't imagine I'll deteriorate any further.

[It's a little bit stiff, because he's a little bit offended. Because, by and large, the worst parts of what he has to consider regression - or maybe just self-destruction - are directly linked to one of the Amaurots meddling. If Hythlodaeus hadn't kept insisting on helping Tyler, inasmuch as intent counted, he wouldn't have lashed out. If Solus hadn't been so smug and posturing and gone out of his way to try and upset Tyler, even if he couldn't have known the true depths of Tyler's trauma then, he wouldn't have begun fearing the man to begin with. It was incredibly bloated and masturbatory for Solus to then decide and declare that he should be the one, of all people, to try and stoke Tyler back into sanity.

(He stays his hands for a moment so he can look away and take a drink of his cooling coffee.)

...but the worst part is, Tyler isn't opposed to letting him. He knows he needs it, doesn't believe for a second that this world is equipped to deal with his issues, and even beyond that there's being a Rocket to consider. He knows he's not prone to slips of the hand; quite the opposite in fact. He's reluctant to even deliver the most basic of personal information about himself to most people. Yet here Solus is, already knowing most of all his trauma and offering.

When he lowers his hands again, that sullen edge is gone and he's back to being politely calm.]

Regardless, your reasoning is sound enough. [Even if it sounds like he's gifting Tyler the privilege of being helped by him.] I'd be more comfortable with more time to think on it, I don't want to give you an answer here and now, but I'm not... immediately opposed.

I shall make certain he does not continue to attempt. It is plain as ever that such will only impede any progress, and while he does mean well, it does not mean wellness will be achieved.

[Honestly, he is being a bit of an egotist in how he's offering and explaining this, but that's his own way of hiding the true sentiment behind the offer. It's bad enough that he's aware of his attachment to Tyler, little does he need Tyler to be keen of its depth—let alone that it truly exists in any capacity.

So, as Tyler takes his time to think on the matter, Solus waits patiently. There's nothing about his body language that would imply he's trying to rush him, or force anything. He looks calm and relaxed, or rather, as much as he can be either of those things with his own emotions still in a bit of a tizzy. It's hard not to be, with Hythlodaeus' injury being so present.

Yet, when he does answer, Solus gives a slow, understanding nod.]

That is all I can ask: that you give it true consideration. As I said, I do not expect an immediate answer, but a mere eventual one. Take your time, but not too much time, for that can become its own problem.

If you have nothing further to say on the matter, perhaps it is best we part ways for now? To afford you some reflection on the matter. Unless, of course, you might have aught further to add...?

[With the way he's phrasing that, he's definitely making Tyler feel he ought to say more. Which is more than a little condescending; but then, that's not exactly any different from anything else Solus has said today.

He holds his coffee mug in both hands as he considers it - it's actually uncomfortable where it presses against his bare burns, but he doesn't lift his hands until he's thought of a proper way to say what he's thinking. There's a softer care to his movements, a faint look of guilt on his face.]

As of yet I don't trust myself to be objective towards Hythlodaeus, in text or otherwise. So, I... I would greatly appreciate if you would be willing to pass on my apologies for the harm I inflicted on him.

[Wilfully or not, he did hurt the man. That deserved acknowledging. Even if it rather feels like Solus is trying to coax it out of him.]

[Unfortunate as it is that it comes across as condescending, when rather he was aiming more for politeness. After all, he is more prone to ditch a conversation when he's done, regardless of whether or not his partner is. Oh well, one cannot simply win them all.

With a careful gaze, he takes in the hesitance, the way that Tyler signs, the soft way he moves, the guilt. These are good things, he thinks. This means there is hope yet.]

Certainly. Your awareness of your bias is certainly promising, oft is that the first step, as they say. I will be certain to pass along your message, and likewise press upon him to respect your need for distance.

All the same, you have my gratitude. Pray, take care of yourself, Tyler.

[And with that, he will politely take his leave. Well, as polite as one can take that strange little wave he does as he departs.]

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cw: uh violent thoughts towards borb

cw: uh self-loathing and suicidal ideation

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