Time for some culture, everyone

[stayb100ponyboy]

[The camera flicks on, showing a young troll sitting down, a large book open on his crossed legs. There's a stack of books behind him, and the gentle lighting and general hush all around him indicate that he's in the library.]

I found this book of human poetry, and found a beautiful poem. I had no idea you humans had it in you. This is true highblood lyricism; if I didn't know better, I would think this Samuel Taylor Coleridge fellow was a blueblood.

[He clears his throat, then begins reading from the book.]

To a Young Ass, Its Mother Being Tethered Near It, by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
Poor little Foal of an oppresséd race!
I love the languid patience of thy face:
And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread,
And clap thy ragged coat, and pat thy head.
But what thy dulled spirits hath dismay'd,
That never thou dost sport along the glade?
And (most unlike the nature of things young)
That earthward still thy moveless head is hung?
Do thy prophetic fears anticipate,
Meek Child of Misery! thy future fate?
The starving meal, and all the thousand aches
'Which patient Merit of the Unworthy takes'?
Or is thy sad heart thrill'd with filial pain
To see thy wretched mother's shorten'd chain?
And truly, very piteous is her lot--
Chain'd to a log within a narrow spot,
Where the close-eaten grass is scarcely seen,
While sweet around her waves the tempting green!

Poor Ass! thy master should have learnt to show
Pity--best taught by fellowship of Woe!
For much I fear me that He lives like thee,
Half famish'd in a land of Luxury!
How askingly its footsteps hither bend?
It seems to say, 'And have I then one friend?'
Innocent foal! thou poor despis'd forlorn!
I hail thee Brother--spite of the fool's scorn!
And fain would take thee with me, in the Dell
Of Peace and mild Equality to dwell,
Where Toil shall call the charmer Health his bride,
And Laughter tickle Plenty's ribless side!
How thou wouldst toss thy heels in gamesome play,
And frisk about, as lamb or kitten gay!
Yea! and more musically sweet to me
Thy dissonant harsh bray of joy would be,
Than warbled melodies that soothe to rest
The aching of pale Fashion's vacant breast!

[He carefully closes the book, his face as close to beaming as he's willing to get in public.]

Magnificent.

Comments

[video]

[unconchonable]

Augh... More like horrendous. Figures. Other than their taste in fashion, humans continue to prowe to be a waste a time.

[video]

[stayb100ponyboy]

Hey, Scarface. You look more like your worthless, uncouth ancestor every day.

[video]

[bestestfurrend]

Equius.

[video]

[stayb100ponyboy]

Yes?

[video]

[bestestfurrend]

Be nice!

[video]

[stayb100ponyboy]

I am being nice.

[video]

[bestestfurrend]

You know furry well that that's not true.

[video]

[stayb100ponyboy]

I'm being as nice as he deserves.

[video]

[unconchonable]

Oh wow, original, there Eq. Who knew you had such a stellar grasp on such mundane skills such as obserwation and physically inspired nicknames. You're truly a marwel. But anyway, I beliewe you hawe our ancestors confused, I do beliewe mine had quite the military background, not to mention the accomplishments to fill a damn history book. Funny, how I newer quite saw yours in any books. So, what accomplishments did he ewer do? HMMMM, Eq?

[video]

[stayb100ponyboy]

The Archeradicators work in secret, idiot; of course you haven't read about him. The things he did were too important and secretive to be recorded for plebians like you to read about later. Whatever mundane little exploits your ancestor got into are no concern of mine; it's just ridiculous seadweller antics, no doubt.

[video]

[unconchonable]

They worked in secret--more like in shame. With hidin' comes no fuckin' honor, no fuckin' glory, what they did was so miniscule, that no one cared enough to record it, is what you mean to say. An' plebians? Please, Eq, stop pretendin' you're anythin' but. My ancestor helped shape the fuckin' empire, our whole fuckin' race. He was a war hero, one rewered an' fuckin' feared for ages, like any important troll should. Where as, from the hoofbeast's mouth itself, or at least its fucker, yours did nothin' but lowblooded, coward's work.

[video]

[stayb100ponyboy]

[Equius doesn't answer right away, taking Nepeta's advice into account.]

It takes more courage and skill to attack in silence and alone than with an entire Fleet behind you, you ignorant clot.

But hey! I think I found a poem about you and your ancestor. Listen...

Mirror, by Sylvia Plath.

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful-
The eye of the little god, four cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

[video]

[unconchonable]

[Eridan's eyebrow quirks at what Equius says, but then when he goes on to share his shitty poems, he looks bored as can be. Nope, he didn't listen to a single word.]

[Equius used poetry! ...it wasn't very effective.]

Cowards hide, Eq. Your argument is hardly a walid one, it takes no merit a brawery to do that. But to face your adwersaries head on, to look them in the eyes on the battlefield. THAT is what brawery is all about.

[A snort.]

You merely can't cope with the fact my ancestor is far GREATER than yours. Just face the facts Eq, or are you of such cowardly genetics you gotta hide from ewen the truth.

[video]

[stayb100ponyboy]

[He tried, Nepeta. He really, really tried.]

Oh yes... because you always charge head-on into conflict, as dramatically and flouncingly as possible, drawing all sorts of undue attention towards yourself, this is clearly the only possible way to settle anything! Oh, I've been enlightened!

Tell me, oh great sage, how well that worked for you in the Veil.

But before you do, let me point out that my ancestor has been spending time with me, teaching me things, showing interest in my activities... has yours done the same?

[devwocean]

In wwhat wway wwas that necessary, wwiggler?
You ought to try to followw your owwn ancestor's example, more.

[stayb100ponyboy]

D --> I wasn't aware that Darkleer was your barkbeast, or owed any allegiance to you
D --> Why would he answer to a seadweller anyway

[devwocean]

You wweren't awware a that?
Interesting.

[stayb100ponyboy]

D --> You're lying

[aim_exorable]

D --> Equius
D --> Do stop
D --> Thank you

[Why is this his life. Why.]

[stayb100ponyboy]

D --> But he's saying things about you that aren't true

[Because he made the mistake of letting Equius drag him home when he first arrived in the bubble.]

private;

[p2iioniicii2t]

Young hiighblood, iit may not be thii2 2y2tem'2 place, but II do not beliieve now ii2 an appropriiate tiime two antagoniize Orphaner Dual2car.
IIt would be much 2afer iif you were two de2ii2t.

private;

[stayb100ponyboy]

[Whoah. Since when does the Helmsman talk to him? Since when does the Helmsman talk to anybody? Equius is weirded out enough by this to do something very rare for him... he listens.]

D --> Um
D --> Okay

private;

[aim_exorable]

D --> Thank you Helmsman

[devwocean]

Listen to your betters, wwhelp.
You'll find I don't bother to lie to your kind.

[stayb100ponyboy]

[He still doesn't like or trust you, Dualscar (OR your shitty hipster descendant), but he's going to take Darkleer and the Helmsman's advice and stop bothering you.]

D --> I'm no one's whelp

[... eventually.]