You do not. Jack already did. And I'd figured it out myself by then, anyway. I do get that wasn't a particularly smart thing to do. It was, in fact, the opposite of smart.
He made a point of stressing how ferocious you were when you shoved him down the stairs and started beating the shit out of him. I'm surprised you didn't fucking kill him.
That's not a "shocked on Solus's behalf" thing, that's "I didn't think you'd have the restraint" thing. And honestly I'm not sure if that's better or worse than just doing it.
I mean, does it really count as killing someone if you *know* they're going to survive by being poofed away to a Pokecenter?
(That, by the way, was why I didn't. Because the deep satisfaction I'd get from crushing his throat under my heel wasn't worth him healing immediately from everything, when I could instead kick him when he was down and leave him hurting for days to come.)
You're a murder-happy bastard, it's inevitable that sometimes I'm not gonna be able to handle that. That's not meant to be an insult, by the way, it's just your archetype. [It takes him a few attempts to get the next sentence out in a way he's happy with.] It's what I turned Bailey into, so.
But anyway, what were you and Lydia doing testing murder for?
I've technically only done it once and at Lydia's behest while we were too stoned to know better. She wanted to know if she'd poof to the Pokecenter or become a lich again.
She not only poofed: it sobered her right up again.
[...well, he supposed Lydia was allowed to do what she wanted, and he doesn't exactly feel like there's room to comment when they're both damn adults. That doesn't mean he has to like it, though.]
That's not surprising whatsoever, actually. It seems like death here puts us back in more or less peak condition, from what people seem to be saying. Also that only Imports really refer to it as death.
Honestly, I'm not sure why she needed me to do it at all instead of run the whole experiment by herself, but maybe she was trying to do something nice for me?
Anyway. I was just startled to realize I've been two months a murderer. That's all.
For how I helped Lydia? Not *particularly*, actually. I was a bit of a mess at the time. I was originally supposed to strangle her, but she didn't struggle at all and I found myself letting go before she'd have passed out because it was too much like fun strangling and not practical strangling. Which got her to yell at me for not following through, so in the end I had to get a cord and garrote her.
Or do you mean for throwing Solus down the stairs?
I suppose I shouldn't be, considering how (as discussed last night) it was a particularly stupid thing to do. But in a very real way, it *does* feel like that Momentous Occasion you mentioned. Even though I didn't kill him.
I mean, it was the first time I did anything like that without work as an excuse. Just because it, in the moment, was what I wanted to do. And-- I think I am proud of myself in a weird way. That I-- finally did what I wanted to without *needing* any more excuse than the man had pissed me off.
Honestly, I don't think I'd ever felt so *alive* before I threw him down the stairs.
I don't particularly need to hear about how you had to stop yourself from getting hard over strangling my gir [Tyler goes beet red and quickly erases that.] her, thank you.
Also, all of that is just...
Honestly? Kind of scary.
I'm not going anywhere but it's like. That's a very different tune to what you were singing a week ago, and I just. I dunno, it's different and weird.
Oh God, no, I wasn't getting *hard* over Lydia. Not in the *least*. She's a lovely woman and if I *could* function with women I'd be *interested*, but I really and truly *can't*. I meant it was too much like the fun kind because she had her head at the same angle Jack does and a similar expression, not because I was getting off to it.
And I realize that's probably not the point, so let's just set aside how I assisted her suicide.
... but. Shit. No, I see where you'd be scared. I mean. I've been going through this long, slow process of coming to grips with myself and everything I'm capable of, most of which you've been here for, and now suddenly I've finally made my peace with it and myself.
You've never known me when I was certain of myself.
[Thank you, Steven, for recognising that that wasn't fucking helping.]
Yeah, I. Suppose I got used to you just sort of being a private mess about your sociopathy. It's just a very sudden swap to me, to hear you talking about it so confidently.
Psychopathy, I think, actually. Since I was born this way--or more, I guess, on the inevitable trajectory towards being this way. I think sociopaths are made, like you were.
And-- it doesn't feel so sudden to me. But that's probably because. Well. Some of the things Jack and I talk about when we're alone... it's different, then, you know? When it's just the two of you? Things are-- easier, sometimes, to talk about. When you'd struggle to talk about them in your more normal life.
Yeah, of course I'm not going to know what happens behind closed doors with you. What you and Jack do, ninety percent of the time I don't want to know. I don't give a shit what you do in your private time.
[Which funnily enough includes being told that one of his good friends went and murdered his partner, even if it was on request.]
Sorry. This feels so stupid. [He's definitely burying his face in his pillow between every time he waits for his phone to go off, as if he can hide from Steven's concern at him.]
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fingersandteeth) wrote2022-02-21 05:11 pm
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Felt amazing, though.
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That's not a "shocked on Solus's behalf" thing, that's "I didn't think you'd have the restraint" thing. And honestly I'm not sure if that's better or worse than just doing it.
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(That, by the way, was why I didn't. Because the deep satisfaction I'd get from crushing his throat under my heel wasn't worth him healing immediately from everything, when I could instead kick him when he was down and leave him hurting for days to come.)
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Yes. It counts.
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Huh.
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I need to leave this conversation for now, but just. Consider it.
It doesn't matter how you get revived. It doesn't take the memory of dying away. Or the fear that goes with it.
Take that however you want.
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I didn't mean to remind you of your Durance. I was just asking because of something Lydia had me help her with, God, was it two months ago?
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But anyway, what were you and Lydia doing testing murder for?
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She not only poofed: it sobered her right up again.
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That's not surprising whatsoever, actually. It seems like death here puts us back in more or less peak condition, from what people seem to be saying. Also that only Imports really refer to it as death.
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Anyway. I was just startled to realize I've been two months a murderer. That's all.
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Sorry to take that momentous occasion away from you in future, though.
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[
what a carefully neutral statement]no subject
Or do you mean for throwing Solus down the stairs?
I suppose I shouldn't be, considering how (as discussed last night) it was a particularly stupid thing to do. But in a very real way, it *does* feel like that Momentous Occasion you mentioned. Even though I didn't kill him.
I mean, it was the first time I did anything like that without work as an excuse. Just because it, in the moment, was what I wanted to do. And-- I think I am proud of myself in a weird way. That I-- finally did what I wanted to without *needing* any more excuse than the man had pissed me off.
Honestly, I don't think I'd ever felt so *alive* before I threw him down the stairs.
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my gir[Tyler goes beet red and quickly erases that.] her, thank you.Also, all of that is just...
Honestly? Kind of scary.
I'm not going anywhere but it's like. That's a very different tune to what you were singing a week ago, and I just. I dunno, it's different and weird.
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And I realize that's probably not the point, so let's just set aside how I assisted her suicide.
... but. Shit. No, I see where you'd be scared. I mean. I've been going through this long, slow process of coming to grips with myself and everything I'm capable of, most of which you've been here for, and now suddenly I've finally made my peace with it and myself.
You've never known me when I was certain of myself.
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Yeah, I. Suppose I got used to you just sort of being a private mess about your sociopathy. It's just a very sudden swap to me, to hear you talking about it so confidently.
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And-- it doesn't feel so sudden to me. But that's probably because. Well. Some of the things Jack and I talk about when we're alone... it's different, then, you know? When it's just the two of you? Things are-- easier, sometimes, to talk about. When you'd struggle to talk about them in your more normal life.
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[Which funnily enough includes being told that one of his good friends went and murdered his partner, even if it was on request.]
It's just weird hearing it like this.
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I'm still me, though? More at ease with myself, but still *me*.
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Sorry. This feels so stupid. [He's definitely burying his face in his pillow between every time he waits for his phone to go off, as if he can hide from Steven's concern at him.]
Just. Give me some time on it, I guess.
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However long you need.
Do you want me to avoid you offline too for a while?