Better humans than I've known, I mean. Never really thought of that kind of shit as a defining characteristic of humanity.
[ He puts a lot of thought into his noodles, at that, because they're not the conversation. They're- good. And it's weird to think that. Weird to care what food tastes like. Wrong. He'd be furious with himself for it a few months ago, for the pointlessness of it. ]
[What does it say about Jotaro that he just automatically assumes that Trevor is being self-deprecating when he says something like that? Well, given the response, it doesn't even sound like he was that far off.
But anyway.]
So what happens, I stick to the horse and then it drowns me before I can get off again?
Pretty much. Most of them don't mean any harm, they just- they're sticky. And they like humans, and get excited if they encounter them. Fight over them sometimes, so if you don't drown then you get stuck to two different horses going in opposite directions get your skin ripped off by the losing one. Best way to deal with them is to throw them someone's clothes. Makes them happy.
[ FACTS ABOUT STICKY WET HORSES. ]
Thanks. Did I say thanks before? For being there for him. It's not that I'm not trying to do right by him, but- shit.
...Do they think that the clothes are a person? They identify people by clothes?
[This is a dangerous road to go down, oh lord. Still, though, he quiets at the returned mention of Alucard, and glances again toward the hideous mug before folding his hands and resting his chin on them.]
They like- having human stuff. Or stuff that belongs to human-shaped things, anyway. 'Human' gets to be a really fraught term sometimes.
[ He shakes his head. ]
But I don't know if you've noticed, but people aren't exactly my strong point. And he always seems-. Fragile? Is that the word? Like if I fucked up even a little, it'd hurt him worse than anyone could fix.
[HE IS A GROWN-ASS DRAGON MAN HE IS NOT GOING TO SAY IT'S "CUTE" (it's cute oh no oh god he loves these sticky horses what the fuck).]
...You're right. About what would happen, if you fucked it up. If anybody fucked it up.
[His mind drifts back to that one phrase, the one he's convinced was said only once, and only in passing — like an icy well — and yet how the thought of it plagues Alucard, how it permeates everything he is and haunts him, how convinced he used to be that he was cold and unworthy of love.]
You've got your thing, right? That thing that everyone does that gets in your head and gnaws at you, and it's everywhere, and it fucks you up. That thing that hurts because no matter what you do, it's always there.
So does he. His thing is being different. And I think you're probably better than anyone at making him feel different, even without realizing it.
Yeah. It's- surprisingly common. Like kids who don't know how to look after animals yet. Lots of things that are only dangerous to people because they like people enough to want to keep them but don't know that there are things that kill them.
[ Yes this is a serious conversation about a mutual friend's delicate emotional state but also he's not going to STOP talking about sticky horses. He's good at talking about one topic and it's 'weird shit that Belmonts learn'. ]
...yeah. I am. I mean- it's what I do. Knowing why things are different from other things. Why sticky horses are different from horses that aren't sticky. Keeps people alive, most of the time. Just- you know. Makes me the least qualified person in the fucking world to make things right for him.
Like cats. That superstition about cats stealing the breath out of babies in their cribs, when really the cats are just trying to curl up with them like they would another cat, and they're too heavy for the baby to breathe through.
[why are monsters suddenly so kawaii oh no]
...He did tell me about you, you know. By name. You and Sypha both. When I talked about people who were important to me, he would talk about you and her.
[ There's a long, long pause. Like it's taking everything he has to not WELL ACTUALLY that and go off on a long tangent about cats. ]
...yeah, that's probably right.
[ He's finished his noodles, so he's not entirely sure what to do to avoid looking like he's thinking about that last statement too hard. So he just continues to mime eating noodles. Nailed it. ]
That's- shit. Kind of sad. And a nightmare scenario, as far as not fucking him up worse than he already is goes. Going to hurt him by being around, going to hurt him by buggering off.
[ Trevor this is like the seventeenth time you've randomly brought him up as a conversation topic, you talk only to him and his boyfriend when you're not mindfucked into socialising by being turned into a moth and you're pretending to eat noodles to avoid saying that you have to think for a moment.
Yes. It's obvious. ]
It's not like he's the only person. [ Or it is, but that's not the problem. ] More like- the only thing that still makes sense.
[ In more than one way. He knows what home was like because he was there in Wallachia. But he knows what it was like in the other sense of the word, too. Because there are thousands of Wallachians who wouldn't know what it was like. What rot it was, and how it deserved protection anyway. ]
Maybe I should. [ A LONG AWKWARD PAUSE. ] Thanks for the noodles, too. I- guess it probably doesn't mean a whole lot if I say they're good. Not exactly a food expert here. But they're better than the crunchy ones.
I'm not even that good at cooking. There are plenty of places that are way better.
[But it's not really about the food, is it? Of course not. The food is just the excuse for all the things they're not going to say, because they're Guys and since when do Guys Do That.]
...Thanks, though. Nice to know I can do something right, at least.
Is this the part where I'm socially obligated to say that you're not a fuckup? Because I can't think of any examples off the top of my head other than turnip-stacking. And holding down a job, I guess. But, you know. I'm sure there are others.
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[ He puts a lot of thought into his noodles, at that, because they're not the conversation. They're- good. And it's weird to think that. Weird to care what food tastes like. Wrong. He'd be furious with himself for it a few months ago, for the pointlessness of it. ]
Don't ride the water horse. They're sticky.
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[What does it say about Jotaro that he just automatically assumes that Trevor is being self-deprecating when he says something like that? Well, given the response, it doesn't even sound like he was that far off.
But anyway.]
So what happens, I stick to the horse and then it drowns me before I can get off again?
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[ FACTS ABOUT STICKY WET HORSES. ]
Thanks. Did I say thanks before? For being there for him. It's not that I'm not trying to do right by him, but- shit.
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[This is a dangerous road to go down, oh lord. Still, though, he quiets at the returned mention of Alucard, and glances again toward the hideous mug before folding his hands and resting his chin on them.]
But what?
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[ He shakes his head. ]
But I don't know if you've noticed, but people aren't exactly my strong point. And he always seems-. Fragile? Is that the word? Like if I fucked up even a little, it'd hurt him worse than anyone could fix.
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[HE IS A GROWN-ASS DRAGON MAN HE IS NOT GOING TO SAY IT'S "CUTE" (it's cute oh no oh god he loves these sticky horses what the fuck).]
...You're right. About what would happen, if you fucked it up. If anybody fucked it up.
[His mind drifts back to that one phrase, the one he's convinced was said only once, and only in passing — like an icy well — and yet how the thought of it plagues Alucard, how it permeates everything he is and haunts him, how convinced he used to be that he was cold and unworthy of love.]
You've got your thing, right? That thing that everyone does that gets in your head and gnaws at you, and it's everywhere, and it fucks you up. That thing that hurts because no matter what you do, it's always there.
So does he. His thing is being different. And I think you're probably better than anyone at making him feel different, even without realizing it.
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[ Yes this is a serious conversation about a mutual friend's delicate emotional state but also he's not going to STOP talking about sticky horses. He's good at talking about one topic and it's 'weird shit that Belmonts learn'. ]
...yeah. I am. I mean- it's what I do. Knowing why things are different from other things. Why sticky horses are different from horses that aren't sticky. Keeps people alive, most of the time. Just- you know. Makes me the least qualified person in the fucking world to make things right for him.
no subject
[why are monsters suddenly so kawaii oh no]
...He did tell me about you, you know. By name. You and Sypha both. When I talked about people who were important to me, he would talk about you and her.
no subject
...yeah, that's probably right.
[ He's finished his noodles, so he's not entirely sure what to do to avoid looking like he's thinking about that last statement too hard. So he just continues to mime eating noodles. Nailed it. ]
That's- shit. Kind of sad. And a nightmare scenario, as far as not fucking him up worse than he already is goes. Going to hurt him by being around, going to hurt him by buggering off.
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...
How about he just puts some more noodles in Trevor's bowl and they pretend like that didn't just happen.]
Sad for you too. He's the only thing you've got here, isn't he?
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[ Trevor this is like the seventeenth time you've randomly brought him up as a conversation topic, you talk only to him and his boyfriend when you're not mindfucked into socialising by being turned into a moth and you're pretending to eat noodles to avoid saying that you have to think for a moment.
Yes. It's obvious. ]
It's not like he's the only person. [ Or it is, but that's not the problem. ] More like- the only thing that still makes sense.
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[Also, like. All of the other stuff. Plus the whole "eh fuck it just kill me and take my skull to help him, that'll probably be fine" thing.]
You should tell him that. That he makes sense, I mean. I don't think he knows.
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[ In more than one way. He knows what home was like because he was there in Wallachia. But he knows what it was like in the other sense of the word, too. Because there are thousands of Wallachians who wouldn't know what it was like. What rot it was, and how it deserved protection anyway. ]
Maybe I should. [ A LONG AWKWARD PAUSE. ] Thanks for the noodles, too. I- guess it probably doesn't mean a whole lot if I say they're good. Not exactly a food expert here. But they're better than the crunchy ones.
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[But it's not really about the food, is it? Of course not. The food is just the excuse for all the things they're not going to say, because they're Guys and since when do Guys Do That.]
...Thanks, though. Nice to know I can do something right, at least.
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[ Yeah, he knows that kind of talk. ]
Is this the part where I'm socially obligated to say that you're not a fuckup? Because I can't think of any examples off the top of my head other than turnip-stacking. And holding down a job, I guess. But, you know. I'm sure there are others.
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[He shrugs.]
I've fucked things up before. I probably still will. I'm just saying it helps to find out firsthand there's stuff I get right, too.
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[ And keeping the vampire happy. Also important. But even he's aware by now that he's bringing up Alucard a frankly inappropriate amount. ]
Well you have my list, for what it's worth. Noodles, turnip-stacking, holding down a job.
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[He raises a finger, as if to indicate "one more".]
I think you gave it a "not bad" the last time I hit you.
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And throwing a punch. You've got pretty much everything you'll ever need to do covered, assuming most of your problems are punchable or turnip-based.