caughtinanetwork | 1 ♐ Voice ♐ A brief check up

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1 ♐ Voice ♐ A brief check up

[Wow, Darkleer is actually communicating with the network on a whole for once instead of being a miserable hermit. Must be a special occasion. Does anyone know his wiggling day?]

Now then. Have we all cleansed ourselves of the mess and done whatever strange death rituals foreign species feel the need to do?

[Okay, maybe it is just Darkleer being a coldhearted dick. Eh.]

I believe we should focus on the more important matter here. I have seen discussions scattered throughout the network, but it would be best to have all our thoughts and speculations focused in one place on both the destruction of those so-called faeries and on the recent appearance of that Carol individual.

For those of you who are oblivious and prone to missing the obvious, things are changing in this place. It would be best to be prepared.

[Don't be fooled, he's not doing this to be nice. He's doing what any troll knows to do: looking out for himself and the few he cares about. If that means even faintly working with others, well, he'll learn to deal.]

[Also, that's all the network is getting from him. Click goes the camera!]

[Filtered to Summoner]

[Darkleer hesitates before sending this one out, although his voice is just as stoic and stern as ever.]

Since your children in particular seem to be taking this badly, perhaps it would benefit you to know that those things which followed us were nothing more than mere robots. The technology may have been organic in nature, but it was still nothing truly living. No pain, no loss of life.

That's all.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Time to purposely act more like a kid! And by that I mean stick his tongue out while it's covered in chewed up granola bar.]

[...]

[that is so disgusting]

[Darkleer doesn't even know]

[Excuse him while he just presses his hand against your mouth in an attempt to get that grotesque thing back where it belongs, the bridge of his nose wrinkled in disgust all the while.]

[Okay, maybe that gesture gets a small laugh from him as he pulls his tongue back in and swallows. Lysunder soon turns his head to stare at his feet, then the granola bar in his hands. A frown.]

Granola?

[He says with a quirk of a brow, looking over to Darkleer now.]

Is there something wrong with it?

[With that done with, Darkleer lets his expression smooth out into neutrality again and wipes his hand against the ground. Only the quirk of his eyebrow is any indication of his thoughts.]

No, nothing. Just unexpected. [He takes another bite, actually quite enjoying it over all. This time he chews and swallows before speaking again.]

I'm used to eat this sort of thing, so, I, I guess it is in some way a pleasant surprise.

...It keeps well.

[Darkleer shrugs and looks away, a hand beneath his chin.]

I know most prefer dried and salted meat to keep on hand, but it isn't within my... tastes.

Mmmmnnyeah, not my thing either. [He leans back, eating more of the granola bar.]

I've made dried meat a lot because it preserves w- well but I won't touch the stuff.

Because of your relations to animals, I presume?

[That is the most obvious answer, of course, and it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Of course it would be awkward- to say the least- the partake in eating with something you could have spoken with at some point.]

Pretty much. [He paused, staring off into nothing for a moment.]

When I was, was young I used to openly commune a lot. And since the distance I can commune over is pretty limitless, i would kind of, latch onto any random creature.

[He pauses again before shoving the rest of the bar into his mouth, chews, and swallows.]

And I accidently started a mental connection with a hoofbeast being slaughtered for food. I haven't eaten meat since. [A shrug, eyes closing.] Fish are different though, and insects, mostly.

Yes... That would be enough to turn anyone away from it.

[His hand twitches, but Darkleer keeps it where it is. This isn't like when they were both quite heavily intoxicated and ideas that involved touching didn't quite seem like bad ideas. Trying to comfort the other like that would just be leading to bad news.]

My reasons aren't nearly as deep. [He nods to Summoner's empty hands.] Are you still hungry?

[He pulls his legs up, turns, and is now sitting cross legged on the bench facing Darkleer's side, hands in his lap.]

Yes.

[There's a small, approving nod and then Darkleer retrieves another bar to hand to him. They're back on more or less honest terms now. It's a... relief.]

[A small smile as he takes it and begins to eat it like the first. Summoner hadn't realize how starved he was until he actually got food in his stomach, and now he was completely famished, downing this granola bar even faster than the first.]

...Thanks.

[Said after he's thoroughly licked his fingers clean. The company is making it a little easier to be fair, but his mind is still rather loud here and there. Lysunder is doing his best not to focus on that now.]

You need a more balanced meal than those meager things. This is exactly why fools like you need a pale quadrant filled if only to keep you alive.

[Getting up to his feet, Darkleer dusts himself off.]

That wasn't an offer, by the way. I drive myself utterly mad just attempting to carry on a normal conversation with you. Do you have more food up in your hive?

[Scoffs, slowly going to stand up as well, wings adjusting, tilting his head as he turns around to face the direction of his hive.]

You're not really pale quadrant material for me anyway. Besides, I don't need any quadrants, doing fine so far. Hm-?

[He glances to Darkleer again before looking to his hive.]

I do, Aradia stops by a lot so I like to stay stocked.

[Darkleer simply stares at Summoner for a moment, his frown slight. For some strange reason, those words about not needing any quadrants- or at least a morail- seem strangely familiar.]

[Well, he doubts it's anything important.]

Alright. Let's go, then.

[Despite having been a bit inebriated that night, Darkleer still remembers the way to Summoner's hive, and begins to walk towards it. Again, he's mostly silent until he speaks halfway through.]

Have you thought about medication for your problems with sleeping?

[His feet barely leave the ground as his wings open up and he starts to hover behind Darkleer before rising above him and moving to the tree house at his own speed. Summoner pauses, glancing back before stepping on the sill of a window, sitting, tilting his head at a 90 degree angle, up and over into the window, and then again in the other direction to get the other horn in, soon being inside entirely before moving to look out the window at Darkleer.]

No, I'd never use them. You never how yo-you'll react or how long they'll last. It's better to deal w-with- with my problems on my own.

Strange.

[As he gets himself up to the treehouse on his own, Darkleer meets the look Summoner gives him straight on, even if it is hard to tell.]

Your method of dealing with them doesn't appear to actually be solving them.

[His expression becomes hard, staring at Darkleer for a moment before turning to head to the kitchen.]

There is no 'solving' them. There is merely dealing with, with their existence. And here it's... it's harder to do that. [His gaze gets a bit distant, sighing as he speaks again.]

Being useless in this quiet place makes it so much harder.

...I know.

[Carefully, he moves to follow him and stops a very short distance away. A better troll could say something, he thinks. A better troll would have an idea of what do to that would ease everything that troubles the Cavalreaper. But he isn't a better troll.]

[If he was, things would certainly be different, wouldn't they?]

The way you're dealing with them is going to hurt you in the long run if this is what you're going to do each time.

[He turns, eyes staying low before finally dragging them up to stare at Darkleer, face for the most part emotionless, but with that same confusing sorrow that has yet to leave him for a while now.]

[He wants to ask again, ask why is even matters that how he's 'dealing' is going to hurt him, ask why because here it shouldn't matter to anyone. He wants to ask if it's for the children's sake or if...]

[Even if Summoner asked, Darkleer isn't sure if he would be able to answer truthfully, or even answer at all.]

[So he just meets that stare, his expression tired but mostly neutral. He nods his head towards the kitchen.]

Show me what you have.

[Summoner doubts he'd get a truthful answer either.]

[The bull troll snorts, shrugging a shoulder as he moves further into the kitchen.]

Mostly preserved good but I keep fresh produce as well as a range of things that can be found in this forest. [He's trying to focus now, kill the stutter. The sooner he gets his face back the sooner Darkleer leaves, right? Right.]

[Nope but nice try.]

[Darkleer follows after and looks over the area before nodding to himself.]

Very well then. Go sit down. This shouldn't take too long.

[And out comes the hair tie again... And then off starts to come the armor? Of course; it would be distasteful to make a meal in a kitchen while still wearing his battlewear. Beneath the light, sturdy armor, there's nothing more than a very light shirt, defining his build in a different way than his armor. Putting it away into his sylladex, he begins to go through the kitchen, mind already whirring.]

I'm going to assume you don't have an apron?

...Sit- sit down?

Uh.

[He might be dejected and off, but, it's still Summoner, and once the armor starts coming off he's just kind of staring, eyes wide, eyebrows furrowed.]

Uh. A-Apron? No. Why ...why would I have an apron?

[Still staring. Yes, mentally agreeing to himself that he likes Darkleer's hair like that. He's reminded of the few times Mindfang used to wear her hair up and it's about the same feeling, but well, on an entirely different sort of person.]

[And haha... no...no armor. He's still pretty built without it, holy hell.]

[He should probably say something perverted right now to ease the tension he's feeling, but he's at a kind of uh... loss for words at the moment.]

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