vatheon | 2 ♐ In which there is a morning after

[ That's a strange order to receive, but the Helmsman abandons what he was doing--tending to his bees, quietly--and is already on his way as he composes a response. Psionics mad everything easier. ]

Ye2, hiighblood, II wiill make my2elf avaiilable iimmediiately.
II 2hall be at the liibrary iin approxiimately three miinute2.

D --> That is appreciated
D --> Also please do not be too loud when you arrive

[He's nursing a hangover, you see. When the Helmsman arrives, he'll find Darkleer tucked away in a corner, a glass of ice water near him and his head in one hand. Glasses? On. Of course.]

[ When he arrives, he naturally does so quietly. He does everything quietly, not even offering a greeting. When he joins the other man, he actually touches down to the ground before he sits, shakily settling into the chair in a display that speaks well for the progress in the past few weeks of Darkleer's intensive regimen of physical therapy forced upon the lowblood.

He does look to Darkleer with eyes that glow with a dull curiosity. ]

[There's a moment before he manages a response, glancing to the Helmsman with a small wince.]

The conversation did, in fact, wildly spin out of control once more. A word of advice, Helmsman- do not partake in gratuitous amounts of alcohol.

[ There isn't any particular rush to all of this, as it is? The Helmsman just cants his head faintly to the side and regards the other man carefully. His voice is very soft when he speaks, but it usually is. ]

Thank you for the advithe, thir.

[ The invitation to continue is implicit. ]

[He woke up to Summoner making him breakfast, okay, and put together with the other strange... something that has apparently come up, Darkleer felt a little off balance. Alright? And also...]

[He takes a moment to make sure his own voice won't betray him before speaking next, careful and quiet.]

Some... very strange things happened during our interactions with one another. If I hold it in now, then there's a chance it might slip out during this infernal curse. I was hoping that by preemptively speaking about it with another, that might... lessen the chances, possibly.

[ For a moment, a brief one, he wasn't sure what to make of this. And then it all tumbled together in his mind, pieces fitting neatly as he realized that he was literally the only option available. The Helmsman could never reveal a word that passed between them without the direct order to do so.

That didn't change the fact that he felt an odd sort of sympathy for the usually imposing man that sat before him, large enough that these chairs suited more to the less physically inclined humans seemed a little inadequate. Right now, he did not seem so.

Curious. Perhaps it was his present bearing. ]

I would believe that it would reduthe the pothibility, yeth. Thith ith, of courthe, clathified.

Exactly.

[Some tension in Darkleer eases out. If not for his shades, the full extent of his relief would be nearly embarrassing. As it is, at least it's manageable.]

I will be fairly obvious and state that it's nearly impossible at times for me to understand just where I stand with the Cavalreaper. Last night, during one of our typical exchanges, the curse forced him to admit that an.. intimate event between us would not be emotionally shallow. Then, when we were drinking together...

[A pause and he shakes his head.]

I can hardly believe I like conversations with him on occasion. This is... I'm not sure exactly what is happening with him.

Edited 2012-01-14 03:44 (UTC)

[ Oh.

Well, that explains exactly why Darkleer required a confidante. He didn't understand a lot of the intricacies of highblood behavior, but emotional indiscretions had much higher stakes in that culture.

The Helmsman nods in acknowledgement of the words, ducking his head down slightly. His gaze focuses somewhere distinctly non-confrontational, the space on the floor between the former archeradicator's boots. To be forced to say these things to a filth blood would be complicated enough. ]

May thith thythtem make querieth?

Any insight to that unbelievable fool's mind would be quite welcome.

[Because honestly? He's at his wit's end. Not only because of Summoner's usual tendencies, but because he's already been stressing his limits of disbelief as it is while living in Vatheon. ]

[He likes talking with the other, despite the rude and all too casual demeanor he has. Likes that the other entices him to push forward, and that he'll push back.]

[But he doesn't want to. Or, at least, everything he knows says he shouldn't want to.]

[ Well, what the Helmsman has to say has very little to do with the Summoner. Tangentially, perhaps, because this is uniquely entwined with Darkleer's emotional woes, but... ]

Ith it hith emothionth that upthet you? [ Definitely keeping his head down. Everything about his posture is very firmly submissive. Oftentimes, he's found that he does not need to take such a pose, but it seems appropriate when putting forth this particular idea. ]

Or yourth?

[ He might not have an understanding of romance in any meaningful way, but he could put pieces of data together to form a whole and coherent picture. ]

[That strikes closer to home than Darkleer would have thought it would. He tenses up quite suddenly, and his hands curl into fists so quickly, there's a light cracking sound. It's the kind of reaction that precedes a fight or flight reaction.]

It doesn't make sense for my own emotions to upset me.

[Denial, denial, denial.]

[ The Helmsman really doesn't intend to feel that jolt of completely misplaced terror when the other man tenses up. His mind is a jumble of disciplinary protocols and anticipation of pain, but he stays very still even when it doesn't come. ]

Of courthe, I... am thimply attempting to athitht in locating pothible problem areath in regardth to the curthe.

[The hesitation in the Helmsman's voice makes him suddenly quite self aware of just how he's reacting, and Darkleer winces behind his glasses. As best he can, he tries to force his body to relax.]

I know. I know. Perhaps... Perhaps my reaction is more telling than I would care to admit.

[There's a pause and he tries to come to terms with that admission, running a hand through his hair nervously. It still feels wrong to admit that, too vulnerable and open, and he doesn't know how to continue from there.]

[ He still doesn't move more than he has to, though he does glance up through his eyelashes just briefly. He was a helmsman system, he had only as many privileges as were granted to him, and he really didn't want to push too hard. It was actually usually rather pleasant to serve under Darkleer's commands, and displeasing him is worrisome in more ways than potential discipline. ]

You are... encountering an error in your logic regarding the Thummoner?

A logic error...?

[That is a good description, in the end. Darkleer digs his finger briefly near the base of his horn in frustration before he nods.]

Correct. He has a... tendency to induce logical errors within my usual line of thinking.

Then it needth addrethed and debugged, yeth?

[ Still sticking to questions, but there's a tiny bit more confidence in his words. He knew logic errors, he could hand helping work through a phase of debugging.

If, of course, that was what the highblood wanted. ]

[The highblood would like nothing less.]

Of course. The problem is that one often finds difficulty in, ahem, debugging themself. It's easier to fix the issues of a different system.

Thythtemth cannot read their own code objectively.

[ He takes a slow breath, calming himself and thinking. It's a bit of a pause, but nothing too unusual when it comes to the Helmsman. ]

May I...?

[ He still needs permission, that's just a little too forward for a helmsman to be commenting on without the order behind it. ]

Permission granted, Helmsman.

[Honestly, he hadn't planned on getting advice for this whole... situation. However, it isn't something he finds himself getting aggravated at. If there is anyone who he would prefer to speak to him, it is the Helmsman. He, at least, knows where they stand with one another.]

Thank you, thir. I--

[ There's a pause, the Helmsman bowing his head down lower as he wraps his arms around himself. He rattles off a quiet series of sentences involving classified data from a campaign spearheaded by the Empress, but then his mind snaps back and he sits up slightly.

That was unpleasant. ]

Forgive me. I wath... thaying that two find the error, further detail ith required.

[There's no use denying it- he hears that classified information, and the second one of those sentences is completed, he knows it's not meant for his ears. There's a brief moment of indecision of what to do before he decides to simply pretend it never happened.]

[What he does do is hold up a hand as he gets up to his feet, wincing slightly as his head throbs once again and the world swims slightly. Not one of his worst hangovers, however. ]

Pause for a moment.

[He strides away and returns five minutes later, carrying two saucers in his hand, steaming mugs of tea in both of them. As gently as he can, he sets them down on the table.]

I don't want you to be attempting to push yourself if your system can't handle it, Helmsman. That isn't something we should risk while in this place. Is there a problem?

[ The Helmsman knows the slip he made was a terrible one, the disciplinary programming in his mind is reinforcing that quite strongly, but the curse left him vulnerable to such fits. He's not entirely sure why Darkleer leaves and returns with tea, but he is somewhat calmed by the sudden segue back into routine between them despite his glitch. ]

I apologithe. There ith no problem beyond known ithueth.

[ His hands tremble slightly when he reaches for the mug, but all in all it's definitely not one of the worst little glitches the Helmsman has experienced. It doesn't even count as particularly bad. ]

Of course. If it gets to be too bad for you, inform me.

[There is a very faint part of Darkleer that is almost certain he should be doing something else in this moment, but he can't for the life of him figure out what it could be. So he waits for the Helmsman to take a sip of his tea before speaking again.]

As you were stating before, more information is undoubtedly needed. Is there something in particular you wished to inquire about?

[ He nods and holds the mug close, a little shiver running through him before he feels a bit more sure that the next thing he says won't come out filled with classified data. ]

The event that occurred pretheding the admithion of emothional attachment.

Very well.

[Saving his head the agony- even if painkillers and tea are helping soothe the pain- Darkleer pulls out his SFC and flips through the encrypted conversation he and Summoner had.]

We were discussing his recent post to the network. Considering most of his interactions with others, it should be of no surprise that he attempted to engage in his usual flirtatious behavior with me. I refused, of course. [Another pause before he forces himself to admit-] With the words that I had no interest in shallow and brief sexual encounters.

[Quietly, he turns over the SFC in his hands.]

That is what preceded it.

[ Scanning over the conversation, he makes note of the fact that their banter is probably of the enjoyable sort. Well, he guesses, mostly for the fact that it's stated explicitly. ]

That ith utheful. Thank you.

[ He goes quiet again, a more contemplative sort of silence rather than anything that could be construed as a system error. He is not good at this. For some reason, he still wants to attempt to reach the root of the problem so that it would stop causing the engineer such serious discomfort.

For a moment, he's jealous of the Signless for his intuitive understanding of relationships between people.]

He ith not the wortht candidate for an emothional bond, but the conthept bringth both of you dithcomfort. Do you agree?

[There's a moment where he considers admitting that the Cavalreaper has outright stated that he isn't interested in filling his quadrants but then Darkleer decides that there's no reason. This isn't a... quadrant problem. Just general relationships between people.]

[Right?]

[...No, not really. For the moment, he holds that information in.]

Correct.

Conthiderable dithcomfort ith not alwayth a thign of a negative.

[ A pause. He's really struggling with this, but it's just a matter of organizing the facts. ]

Could it... altho not come from a lack of preparedneth?

[Darkleer tenses up once more in his shoulders, but he does his best to keep the reaction restricted, less harsh than before.]

I... imagine it could. Yes. I have of course never remotely considered the Cavalreaper admitting such thing consider the gap between our blood-

And he has also stated to not be interested in filling his quadrants at all, so I assumed he would never consider it towards anyone.

[Wait. Well. That's out of the bag then.]

[ The Helmsman's frame of reference for redrom is not exactly the most reasonable, but he's pretty sure he can make some sense. He curls himself forward just a little, talking more into the mug than to the blueblood.]

From the data you provide, you two have compatible feelingth on the matter. There ith no conflict.

[ A pause. ]

Unleth you have a want for an alternate arrangement.

...I would appreciate an alternate arrangement.

[Reaching up, his fingers nudge his glasses up slightly so he can pinch the bridge of his nose.]

The Cavalreaper is ridiculously stubborn when it comes to admission of his feelings in the first place. He is in a black romance with another and has made it almost painfully clear on the network. However, when prompted, he will go into heated denial. If it were not for this curse, he no doubt would have never admitted to caring about my well being in such a way.

Besides, I have never said I returned such feelings. When all is said and done, he is one of the few adult individuals from Alternia that I can bear to speak with.

I wath not thuggethting--

[ A pause, readjusting. Darkleer was very good at making his feelings known sometimes, apparently, because he seemed to be dreadfully transparent right now. ]

Can you not thimply purthue the bond you dethire? I do not believe he would fight againtht your lead.

[It is half the curse and half simply time wearing him down. It's already come to a head twice since yesterday. First he spilled more than he ever meant to say to Gamzee about his insecurities, and then that... thing happened between him and Summoner. ]

[He's having a bad week, honestly.]

Tch. Of course not. [A heavy sigh.] For one thing, you heavily underestimate his stubbornness. As for another... It would not be proper by the standards I'm held to to pursue someone of that low a blood color.

[The confessions are going to come out no matter what, aren't they?]

I... do not underthtand. Ith it not the right of a highblood to take what he chootheth?

[ A pause, he sips at his tea and seems to duck his head. There was no question where he'd gotten those kinds of ideas. He was a slave and, though he could only remember his existence as a Helmsman with any sort of certainty, highbloods always got exactly what they wanted from anyone subordinate to them. ]

It is.

[Darkleer shakes his head. Of course he knows. It is the privilege his blood has granted him for sweeps and sweeps. It is a privilege that he has used more than once. Why wouldn't he? The resources were there for highbloods, so it didn't make sense not to use them.]

[But this...]

But there is a difference in something being taken and something being given.

2 ♐ In which there is a morning after

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