asmywitness | IC Inbox

Tyler's eyes widen, with those words, and he looks over Solus with a new eye, taking in the true extent of those wounds.

And... shrugs. Barely even with his shoulders, he just kind of makes an 'eh' motion with a tilt of his head.

That's it, that's literally the extent of his reaction.

I'm already fully aware of Steven's propensity for ferocity, he replies, with an almost amused bounce to his hands, while his expression remains even and politely neutral. And I appreciate you feeling the need to tell me. Sincerely. But I've become rather familiar with Steven's more violent habits - I was introduced to them on our first mission together, in fact, and very little escapes my notice once I've been given even the slightest clue.

Now he smiles, and one hand briefly lifts to brush under Isis's chin, making her tilt back so she can enjoy it while still glaring at Solus. But I'm well protected, as you yourself have born witness to. If Steven were ever to raise a hand against me, be sure there would be repercussions. But, and he turns a steel eye on Solus. I rather doubt it's going to come to that. Steven likes me, and I've been well informed that that's a rare thing indeed.

Edited 2020-05-26 10:26 (UTC)

Solus gives no overt reaction to how Tyler shrugs it off, primarily because he is not surprised in the least bit. It isn't a if he expected this to be some big reveal, but he was curious if this was the first of Steven's violent outbursts, and it's invaluable to him to know that it is not. Something to utilize potentially later.

If anything, he's thankful for Tyler's answer, it certainly gives him much more than something more sympathetic would. So he retains that smile, nodding along slightly, his eyes transfixed on the other man, though Isis' near comical stare down does not go unnoticed. Ridiculous animal.

You are very fortunate he does, a mere mention of your name brought this about, I can scarce imagine what might befall anyone who does aught more scathing. Though, I have indeed noticed your impressive skills of observation, little are you one merely distracted by problems in front of your nose—but you worry and watch for all that may come your way. A very unique and rare trait in mortals I've found.

As he signs, he comes across as genuine, even somewhat dropping that fanciful way he signs to do so.

It is truly heartwarming to see a bond so strong, it could fair bring a tear to the eye.

Edited 2020-05-26 18:18 (UTC)

Isis continues to side-eye him, even turning her head away and narrowing her one visible eye for a moment - before she closes it and looks away completely with a dismissive flick. Tyler's acknowledgement of such is just another gentle pat.

So long as you keep your hands to yourself, I rather think the consequences will remain in your imagination. Isn't that a good thing? Now Solus is definitely posturing for him, and his own expression becomes a bit less sympathetic in response; certainly not stand-offish, just less openly caring. I've always had a keen mind, but it's been made far sharper in recent times, before I arrived here. I've had to learn to watch more closely than most for my own safety, and that's a skill that rather sticks with you.

Hm. That's more than he meant to say.

If you'd be willing to take some advice again, I'd suggest leaving Steven alone for a while. If he's shown how ruthless he's willing to be with you now, he's got no reason not to do it again later.

Solus merely raises his eyebrows at Isis' little side-eye, but otherwise seems as fit to ignore her as she is ignoring him.

Quite, seeing as I have no designs to let my hands run astray, worry not. He offers a little plainly. Ironically, he isn't fully posturing, such bonds of loyalty are indeed something he values, too often do mortals betray one another, unwilling to truly commit to the fealty they swear to one another.

However, as Tyler seemingly opens up, Solus's expression softens to a notable degree. He's curious, seeing as Tyler had told him before that he could not trust him because of the similarity Solus shares with something from his past—something that he and one other here shares. It doesn't take a genius to figure out the most likely person would be Steven. Their bond, and how both react to him...it only makes sense.

Would that such skills weren't a necessity, alas. As for Steven, your counsel is noted. I have scant interest in pursuing him, particularly if he should prove incapable of resisting his more violent impulses when in my presence. I had not anticipated such a reaction from him, but I suppose it all makes sense once I think on it.

Seeing Solus say he didn't plan on touching Tyler wasn't necessarily as reassuring as he probably thinks it is, but he's content on dropping the subject for now. At the very least, him putting on a calmer face for it certainly helps resolve that he's going to try and behave in that regard, if he wants Tyler on his side.

He's already under the impression you've been actively seeking him out to corner him, he points out. I shouldn't think he'd try to resist anymore.

Solus can't help but grin at that, but the wryness of such is plain.

He flatters himself. He signs in a way that emboldens his disinterest, I have much more pressing matters to attend, than to whittle away the hours plotting out schemes that lead me to cornering him. Truly my existence is not so dull that a single mortal would take up so much of my time. Tell me, is he this much of an egotist, or am I merely a special case?

Having someone suddenly appear out of nowhere with no prior warning and a very firm earlier message of wanting to be left alone by them leaves a certain assumption in mind, he signs flatly. Frankly it crossed my own as well, when you found me at the Contest.

Amazingly, people don't like being surprised by people they hate. Who's got the ego there now, Solus.

I merely saw a familiar face--though for you, it was far more your dragon that caught my eye--it is only natural to socialize with the familiar.

Which completely sidelines the fact that neither wanted much to do with him. And in your case, I had hoped to make amends. Steven I knew was a hopeless endeavor, as the proof of such a theory has been made evident.

As I've said before, I'm not able to trust you completely. Don't you forget that, Solus. The most you're going to get from me is civility, and even then your general demeanour sorely tests it.

Yes, and trust is nary aught forced with simple words, this I do realize. He gestures in a way that would imply a defeated sort of tone, his expression pairing with it.

Nevertheless, I cannot help but wonder if you took the early admission of mine influence on the world I hail from to be far more wicked than it truly was. Fair do I wonder just what fiend you impress upon me from this tragic past of yours—how much of this mistrust is truly earned from mine own actions, and how much is bleed-over. Keeping up that defeated and solemn air as he signs. Less accusatory in the way he does so, more idle, if sullen, curiosity.

Pray, do not misunderstand, I do not blame you for such.

His hands wobble a moment in uncertainty, sort of the physical version of filler words, as he considers it.

It's not the cruelty that bothers me, though I won't deny that it probably influenced me on some level. He's willing to own up to his own biases. It's the capriciousness that implied, in a way. You made yourself sound so willing to step in and out of lives with little care for the damages you caused along the way. It's the period of time, thousands on thousands of lives can be anything from a few millennia to a few hundred.

There's a pause, and he adds with a wry grimace. It's the ego, that everything you do is without fault because it's you doing it, even if you make apologies to try and soothe the tempers you fray. It's all too reminiscent of my--

But his hands falter, sharply catching himself before he finishes the sentence - and his hands form gentle, frustrated fists for a moment at the obvious slip.

Never mind. It's just a lot of common themes you're playing into.

As Solus watches him, he keeps up that non-accusatory air, more like a man searching for answers, than mere incrimination. As Tyler explains, Solus listens without interruption, allowing him to work out his answer. Though, the slip doesn't escape his notice, but tactfully he doesn't mention it.

If I may, what I told you was little about the damages and more about the gifts I brought. I am a mentor and an observer. I had taught mortals a great many things they had lost, many more they would have never known, had I not offered them my knowledge and wisdom. What they did with such was for them and them alone to decide. He explains with gentle motions, as if trying to be a bit more sensitive with his words, considering Tyler's faltering hands and their earlier wobble.

And fair disappointed was I that more oft than not they resorted to violence against one another. I had given them the chance for peace and prosperity, but instead they chose war and death. He pauses with a grimace, sighing with a slight shake of his head. After a moment, he continues.

As for my ego—I think it only fair that a being such as I would be confident in mine abilities, having lived as long and having accomplished what I have. I attempt not to get too close to mortals, this much is true, but can you truly blame me, when your lives are so fleeting, yet mine continues unabated? Your ilk can barely tolerate the death of your loved ones—and for good reason, such a tragic event is never easy. But with my endless life comes endless tragedies, so is it so unjustified that I keep my distance? His eyebrows pinch together with an upward slant as he keeps his eyes on Tyler, and for all his expression and how he signs each word...there's a genuineness there.

But I find it crucial that you come to realize that I do not think myself special. Merely, I am what everything should be. What, everything once was—in my world. I do not believe I can do no wrong, thus I apologize when I realize fault, thus I attempt to make amends. I am not the unscrupulous villain you may see me as.

Edited 2020-05-28 17:01 (UTC)

Tyler is determinedly trying not to look at Solus's face, focusing on his gloved hands - he still hasn't worked out the difference between the man's genuine sincerity and his fronts. It means he's missing out on a lot of the tone of Solus's words, but he just... doesn't want to look up and see the man pitying him.

(He's so sick of pity.)

There's a hard, almost defensive edge to his movements when he talks next, shoulders drawn tight. Not everyone considers gifts from impossible beings a good thing. Sometimes lost powers ought to stay that way. There's safety in ignorance, boring as that can be, but some things people are better off not knowing. For their own safety, their own sanity. There's another moment of faltering hands - talking with Solus really pushes the limits of Tyler's sign bank. And no-one appreciates being used, or turned into something they're not at the whim of something that tries to decide for them what their gifts should be used for.

His tension rises a little, to try and keep his hands steady; Isis is actually looking at Tyler now. I don't... I'm not trying to defend humanity. Society. There's too many of us who do find something and immediately turn to weaponize it, and it's often those in positions of power. I'm not stupid. I'm not naive. But to have the... the audacity - his hands whip through the individual letters with a vicious energy - to claim that you think you should be the standard to which all else is set? Regardless of your earned experience, or if that's true or not, it's still impossibly narcissistic. Even if you act like you care about them, you can't just set them up to fail and then be disappointed at them for not meeting your insane standards.

Solus watches him, gauges his movements, his words. Every fraction of a movement, every hesitation. His eyes changing their focus when something off happens, something telling. He waits, lets Tyler finish his piece with patience, and a steely resolve.

Then, he begins, his movements slow and punctual, as if trying to be very clear and controlled. In my world, long, long ago, someone like me would be considered average. We were all immortals, all were powerful, all were utterly capable. The concept of mortals did not truly exist, for no other sapient beings existed but us. So, when I say I am what all should be, I speak from the very fact that I was once the standard, not the exception.

Of course this is only...half true, because he is indeed utterly exceptional even among those god-like men, but that's besides the point. He continues with that same steady pace.

As such, I have tried to give back to the mortals what they have lost, I have taught them, fought along side them, broke bread with them, sired children, and died with them. I have not told them how to use anything I have taught them, I merely offer them choices. I give them succor in a world most cruel, but I suppose by your account my cruelty is in giving them aid at all, yes?

Again, not a total truth. While it is true that they could have used any of the knowledge he gave them for good, and that he did not push them towards any specific direction they weren't already going themselves, he knew full well the consequences. The corruption.

I suppose I should have merely left them to die on their own, should not have hoped that they might choose to help their brothers, than annihilate them. I did not force man's history to go the bloody course it went, I merely observed it. But from what you've said, you believe all should remain ignorant, that learning is its own sin? Or, do you believe the pursuit of knowledge should be dressed in red tape, arbitrarily decided upon what is or is not appropriate?

You sound just like their Mother.

Clearly those final words are meant to be some kind of insult, but without the proper context Tyler can't take offense. (It'd almost be funny, actually, if he weren't half-nauseous from fury. He's... pretty sure it's fury.)

There is a fundamental difference between a society rediscovering old technologies for themselves and learning how to adapt and recreate them, and you just handing them things on a silver platter with no instructions, he shoots back. So I'm inclined to say yes, actually, your specific form of aid to them was well-intended but unnecessary at best, and needlessly cruel at worst. And you've straight-up confessed that you don't fully understand the limitations of mortals, so it's not so surprising now that you keep committing the same mistakes against them - you couldn't possibly understand the scale we live on, and frankly that's terrifying. Humans-- mortals have a very intense grasp of their own mortality and the scope of things we can achieve therein despite what you might think - we're perfectly capable of building empires, ones that are fair and just, that can last for millennia.

His expression darkens, resentful anger burning behind his dark eyes. But then you come swanning in, toying with their lives, jeopardising their futures - playing with them. Your feelings might have been genuine then, but that's all that ever was, it's all just some big cosmic game that you want to be let in on because you're so perfect that you think if you could just get them to understand you then they would be too, but that's not how we work. People need to live and learn and make their own mistakes because that's how mortals learn. We don't get a thousand years to watch our fuck-ups play out, most of us barely get eighty just to try and impart the lessons on our future generations.

It's a low, shallow, spiteful blow. But he's furious now, the sickening twisting of his stomach is making him nearly light-headed, his hands close to shaking from the exertion of trying to hold it in. So he doesn't stop himself from continuing.

If I sound like their mother, at least it means I actually care about them.

Only a fool would believe a mother is always caring and kind. He quickly retorts, clear bitterness in his movements.

But by your gods, boy, I did not say I told them nothing, merely I did not force any decisions in which they used my teachings for. Are you incapable of comprehending my words, or are you merely letting your fury blind you? Now his brow is pinched with annoyance, his expression a scowl.

You are awful presumptuous about aught you understand not, and by your account are you saying that mortals are less capable than one such as I? For it certainly sounds as if you are the one putting me upon a pedestal, not I. If they cannot handle such knowledge, such wisdom, then you are fully admitting to the gulf between us that you and yours were so set in denying existed but half a moon ago.

Which is it, then? Am I your superior in such a way, or are we the same? For it cannot be both. Nevertheless, this has never been a game to me, this has ever been direly serious, but perhaps that is something else you believe beyond your mortal comprehension!

It's hardly my fault that every time I try and create an argument, you counter it with new information I couldn't possibly have fucking known! How can I help but make presumptions when you don't tell me anything except to prove me wrong?!

His hands are whip-fast and hard-edged in his fury, almost too much for Solus to follow in his learning state. Isis is still watching Tyler, but her little form displays open concern.

You have these billions of years of knowledge and you use it exclusively to fuck with people! You don't tell people how to use your gifts, you don't tell anyone here about yourself so you can use it to lord over them, you don't even consider doing anything on any terms less than your own regardless of the impact it has on other people! You curate everything you do so carefully, just to make sure that nobody thinks anything could ever be your fault, even when your action leads directly to people's deaths!

If I had ever considered that you might be so close to being a - oh, this isn't a sign Tyler's ever used, nor put in his dictionary, a L shape swept up into a half-closed fist at his forehead - that you actually fucking set off my PTSD do you think I ever would have accepted your offer to play nice and act civil?!

Again he waits patiently as Tyler says his piece, his eyes keen on the movements, and he misses some of it, but enough to get...a general idea. Regardless, it's fully clear to him that Tyler is beyond distressed, and maybe he'd care more if Tyler wasn't just assuming his motives behind his actions. Wasn't just assuming the worst of everything he's doing.

That unfamiliar sign he does acts more like a censor for whatever he was trying to say, and it leaves him squinting at Tyler in scrutiny. Of course, there's the context clues for what it might mean, so he's not utterly lost there. After a moment, he lets out a measured breath, then smiles calmly at him, his hands losing the edge to them they had before. Clearly, he's trying to deescalate the tension.

You are free to believe whatever you wish about my motives, but believing and knowing are very different things. If you desire to name me a fiend, there is little I can do to dissuade you from your course, this much I realize.

However, I do not speak of myself merely because people do not ask. If one were to ask the right questions, I would be right glad to answer them. When you had asked about me before, did I not answer you in earnest? Did I not share with you intimate information, and in kind you shared your own with me?

He shrugs at that, his hands splayed out at his sides to emphasize the gesture.

If you wish to know about me, about my motives, all you must needs do is ask. Shrewd questions will receive shrewd answers. But if you wish to continue upon this erroneous path of assumption, there is little and less I can do to stop you.

Amazingly, the calm smile does nothing to de-escalate Tyler's emotions. It gets the opposite result, in fact, as patches of angry blush burn high on his cheeks. He can feel his heartbeat drumming against his ears so hard it almost hurts, his wrists ache from the tension he's been holding himself under, and he can feel Isis's tiny claws trying to dig through his shirt into his shoulder; as Solus talks she bunts under his chin and nuzzles against him, and it's only then he really notices the genuine worry she's eking into the back of his mind.

It doesn't calm him down, but it does help focus his frantic, wild emotions, just a little.

When Solus stops talking, Tyler has very little to say.

No. I'm done. Leave me alone.

And he turns and leaves the conversation. He's fully expecting Solus to keep his word and not touch him - but he wants him to, just so he has an excuse to punch that fucking insane bastard hard enough to break his smug fucking nose.

Holding up his palms in surrender, Solus considers pursuing him for a fleeting moment. Yet he decides against it. Mainly because he had not see Tyler quite this angry before. Unsettled, disturbed, uncomfortable sure, but not like this. Ill could his body take another beating, and Estinien had long since left. Moreover, it might not be Tyler he truly needs to be wary of, but that wretched bird.

So Tyler finds himself free to leave, finds that Solus does indeed keep true to his word. There is far more to lose than gain should he go against it now. There he remains till Tyler is out of sight, and with a dismissing sigh, he then takes to his cane and heads off to get back to his work.

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