TLV: IC Contact

[sixfeetofdirt]

Careful; I bite.

Comments

[sixfeetofdirt]

We're specifically discussing things I'd like to change. I'm not talking about my entire self.

[greatoldjohn]

Except you just said that all of it is fetid. So it's going to be a problem for everything we'd pick.

So why do you think that?

[sixfeetofdirt]

Why are you questioning the idea that I consider, not everything, but everything that I dislike about myself to be unpleasant and therefore difficult to talk about?

[greatoldjohn]

I'm not questioning that.

But it's still a part of you. It can be something you want to work on without being something... disgusting or rancid or 'fetid'. Wanting to be better doesn't mean that you're starting from shit.

I mean, you can see how this is just a big loop, right?

I pick something, and you put up a boundary because you don't want to deal with it because you don't like it.

Then I ask you to pick something and you say that you can't because it's 'fetid' and you don't like it.

I can't just wait until you're comfortable because I have 200 years of discomfort that I'm working against and there's always a chance you could end up in the Dark World in the meantime. That's shitty of me. But just giving you things and being nice to you will seem a lot like I'm buttering you up and bribing you and trying to lull you into some kind of trick. Ignoring you or treating you like shit sure as hell isn't going to work because that just does nothing.

[ A small huff. ]

There's something that's the least... unpleasant. At least I hope so. But you'll know that better than me, which is why I'm asking you. I tried with... what I tried with since you said you didn't care. I figured it'd be easiest to try and build from, but you lied. You do care. And that's fine. But if you're going to lie, then you need to pick it. Because me picking it and then you coming back and saying 'no, actually, I hate this' is just more loops.

[sixfeetofdirt]

It's not about hating it, whatever it is. Whether I like it or hate it, I have some reservations about the act of - putting it on a slab to be dissected.

Incidentally, you didn't actually ask whether I wanted my cabin to be changed. You just...assumed that on my behalf. Are still assuming that, actually, as best I can tell.

[greatoldjohn]

So since you brought it up, am I allowed to talk about it with you?

[sixfeetofdirt]

Yes, darling. Yes, you are. Let's talk.

[greatoldjohn]

All right.

I assumed that you would want it changed since we're working towards making you feel free and being in the spawn dormitory would be a reminder of your captivity, something that you didn't choose and that you were forced into. I also figured that you were forced to have that room again and you should pick your own room. If I was wrong, I'm sorry.

Why don't you want to change it?

[sixfeetofdirt]

[There's a long pause which he spends trying to condense a lot of conflicting and shitty emotion into as few words as possible.

Eventually, he identifies three.]

It was home.

[greatoldjohn]

Ah.

[ Nothing he's going to voice beyond that, but he gets it. ]

Okay.

[sixfeetofdirt]

[It's the smallest thing to have said and yet it makes him want to crawl into a hole.]

Thank you.

[greatoldjohn]

I am sorry that I assumed. I try not to. But I make mistakes.

I'm probably going to make mistakes with you but it's not because I want to or I don't care. It's because everything I know is really fucking different from everyone else here. Like 'a home'. I've never had that. I know how important it is to people. But it's not something I would have thought of. [ He'd had a kingdom, a space, a domain. He tries to think of it as a home, had painted it and tried to feel homesick, and it hadn't really worked. There's a lot of reasons he doesn't use the room in Arthur's that often and that's one: he isn't quite to the point of painting over it, but he's getting closer. ] And that's not an excuse. I'm not saying it's okay that I fucked up.

I'm saying you can just tell me I fucked up. I'll try to listen. I do want to help you.

But I also know this whole thing isn't... comfortable. It can't be, because you're changing. And this kind of change is messy and bloody and raw and it aches sometimes. I've done it.

I know I can't just tell you to be comfortable. Or that being your warden makes it okay. But I do want to help you. I don't... want to dissect you.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Yes.

Well.

[His voice is incredibly brittle. Each word is enunciated like he thinks saying it might break something.]

You might have to wait a while as I continue to adjust to the idea of having someone who has immense power over me but doesn't want to use it in as grotesque a manner as they can imagine.

[greatoldjohn]

Okay. I can do that.

Are you okay with... spending time with me? Or... dealing with me at all while we're waiting?

[sixfeetofdirt]

...I don't think that distancing myself from you is going to help, and I don't think spending time with you is going to make anything worse.

[He is grimly aware that he can never know whether John is going to be what he's afraid of, if he simply hides from him.]

[greatoldjohn]

So... what do you like to do?

[sixfeetofdirt]

...

I've been reading a lot. Jedao asked the Admiral for a lyre on my behalf, so I've been playing a little. It's been a while.

[greatoldjohn]

I wouldn't mind reading in the room with you sometime. Or listening to you play. I've never heard a lyre, but I play the violin. I learned from Lestat.

[sixfeetofdirt]

Ah. I...wouldn't mind that, on occasion.

[He also feels he's neatly sidestepped the question of what it is he likes doing, which was the main point.]

Though we could just as easily continue as we were. I've not been deliberately avoiding you.

...These last few days aside, obviously, because I've been avoiding everyone.

[greatoldjohn]

Okay. I'm trusting you not to avoid me. I won't try and bother you.

[ A pause before-]

Do you not want to talk about what you like?

[sixfeetofdirt]

I like sex and I like killing things. The former doesn't seem like it's within your sphere of expertise and the latter, I'd assumed to be off the table.

[greatoldjohn]

I have had sex. Or... something that is roughly the same as sex that was done for enjoyment. And I killed many things.

But I'm a little confused on the liking sex. Because you called all the sex before 'disgusting' and you said that doing all the things you did were punishment enough just doing them. So do you like sex or is it just what you're familiar with, like... that thing we talked about before?

[sixfeetofdirt]

[...really? how??

weird illithid type shit, probably.

he's not going to think about it.

he's definitely going to think about it.]

Yes, I like sex. There's simply a difference between sex I'm being forced to have on pain of - well - slightly more and somewhat worse torture than usual, and sex I'm having with someone I like, because I want to.

[...It's like 13% this and 87% familarity.]

[greatoldjohn]

...were you allowed to do other things? Or even see if you liked other things?

[sixfeetofdirt]

What?

No.

Of course not.

What would the point have been? We hunted, hurt, healed, and occasionally the chamberlain threw us a day-old newspaper so we'd know what was going on in the world. We couldn't give the impression that we were living in a hole in the ground.