capeandcowllogs | They criticize the practice

WHO: Two

enigmaestro gentlemen
WHERE: Central Park Boat House to start, then somewhere else entirely
WHEN: Today, about 1pm
WARNINGS: Horrific subject line puns?
SUMMARY: Confused and somewhat concerned about all the Homestuck shenanigans, Sirius consults the local adult expert.
FORMAT: WE DO WHAT WE WANT

Nestled in the center of Central Park, the Boathouse restaurant commanded a charming view of the Lake and the boaters rowing around in the sunny afternoon heat. Sirius arrived about half an hour early and set himself up on a shady bench just outside the main entrance to the restaurant with the day's paper and a lemonade. He'd rolled the sleeves up and left his navy striped shirt unbuttoned low enough to show his dog tags, presumably as an allowance for the heat. Fortunately, this was the City, and the runic tattoos he'd returned with on his chest, arms and even fingers were not the most extreme body art on display. With his hair and beard trimmed, he looked like a retired biker, which was more or less accurate.

As 1pm neared, he flipped the paper to the crossword, and pulled out a pen. He'd found the Times crossword to be satisfyingly challenging even on the topics he was well-versed in, and a fair education on the cultural quirks that he wasn't, and it gave him something to think about as he scanned the crowds for Mr. Nygma.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ha ha ha, oh Merlin, what? Sirius's smile deepens and becomes approving. He's an expressive fellow with a lot of smiles.

"A strong first impression is as important as a strong grip, or so I will tell myself to make that statement acceptably eccentric rather than just odd."

The restaurant is a bit crowded in the front and bar area, but the back is cool and quiet, and while the waitress is visibly nonplussed at the large jar with the cellphones in it that Sirius puts on the table, he is cheerfully British at her until she smiles and accepts their drink order. There were women in this town who could resist being called 'luv', he'd discovered, but not many.

"Yes, it's been quite a year. Too many women kept telling me I was too young for them, I had to do something. Alas that I did not just appear in my prime in the first place like some wiser, better-dressed individuals." Start with half a truth and then build something extravagant on it, seems to be Sirius's modus. Then again, anyone who would choose and then pull off a bowler hat like Eddie's deserved to be flattered for it.

Oh, flattery. His one true weakness. It was easy to gloss over any tingles that his ever-present falsehood detection power interrupted with, easy to accept Sirius' stories -- and they were charming, weren't they? Witty, too -- and smiles without deeper question. His defenses were already disengaged.

"I wouldn't worry too deeply. You're not without your charm," he returned casually. He rests his hands on the slick wood of their shared table, careful to spare their communicators just a cursory glance. The image itself reinforced the comfort of secrecy, a particularly acceptable familiarity. The shade and shadows that the back offered suited Eddie's needs, especially for the topic at hand.

"Gamzee will prove troublesome," he said, diving in between the wait for his bourbon, served neat. "In part because the brunt of the work will be on organizing any effort. He's made so many diverse enemies."

A pause followed.

"Especially from his own world."

Mutual flattery, gossip, plotting, and soon enough, good beer and hamburgers. Sirius paused to reflect for a moment on how glad he was to be back. Eddie's cut to the chase took Sirius a bit by surprise, but it certainly focused his attention entirely on the other man. A little bit of repartee and he'd nearly forgotten the darker reasons for this meeting.

Eddie certainly knew how to set a conversation in motion.

"Yes, going back through the logs, there are quite a few, all teenagers. Thus far I count Gamzee, Eridan, Kanaya who is apparently a vampire, Aradia, Fefairy, Vriska, Rose, Dave ...John and Jade ...Equius, and one poor lad who's just horrified at all of it all the time," he counted them out on his fingers, frowning as he was sure he was missing someone.

"Oh, and the one who was killed, Sollux. I would not be the least surprised to hear that I've missed a dozen or so. They attack one another for blood color and a lack of constructive responses to annoyance, and now for vengeance."

"Tavros?" The name was offered like a puzzle piece, filling in another blank. "The one constantly horrified. I've noticed he seems more mild than many of the others. The ones of, ah, 'lowblooded' social standing seem to be more capable of compassion. Feferi being the exception." Eddie's fingers slid along his cool glass, staring into it for a moment. Eridan had mentioned that his previous moirail was odd like that, a rebel against her culture. Eddie, however, saw no need to headline such a detail. There were too many crucial tangents, and explaining his relation to Eridan wouldn't be the first thing on his list of conversational topics.

"I find the adherence to their blood hierarchy, as you've mentioned, perhaps the strangest thing. Most are bound in human bodies, after all." Even if their blood did remain the same, as with Eridan. "It almost seems silly to promote a system that's ignored by everyone else."

Eddie chose that moment to lean a touch closer, his voice growing a tone more conspiratorial.

"I think it's an obvious weakness."

"Tavros, perhaps." He'd actually been thinking of Karkat, but there were simply a million of the little buggers.

Sirius shakes his head slightly at Eddie's prodding. He doesn't move away, but his gaze does drift inward.

"Weakness isn't quite the word I'd use. It's certainly a clear and brightly labeled trigger, but the bolt could fly in too many different, violent ways."

He looks at Eddie with earnest, honest eyes. Sirius didn't tend to lie very much, but he did muddy the truth with a lot of conversational flourish when the mood struck him. Here and now, though, he gave Eddie the full truth, with words chosen to clarify

"One of the reasons I'm taking an active interest in this is that this obsession with blood is very familiar. I've a lifetime of experience dealing with fools who think their blood is more pure than others', and they didn't even have the evidence of it being a different color to prove it. I was raised by those people, and that sort of fanaticism can be extremely difficult to pierce, especially if Gamzee and Eridan have invested a great deal of their self-identity in it."

He leans in a little as well, and talks with his hands, gesturing and pointing at the tabletop.

"Bellatrix is incapable of seeing herself and anyone she meets in terms other than the black and white pedigree she was spoon-fed as a child, even though we're in another world surrounded by a broad spectrum of people with amazing powers, because that pedigree means that she can do whatever she wants without repercussion. In her eyes, no one here is fit to judge her. She names me traitor for rejecting the entire pureblood concept for the tripe it is, but I am still a more worthy person than you in her eyes, simply because you've no magic. Yes, this makes her a rabid idiot, and it means that she underestimates muggles to a foolish degree, but it also means that she is beyond redemption, and feels not the slightest twinge of conscience at torturing or killing muggles, because you are not people to her. Gamzee and Eridan are still young, so perhaps there's some hope for him yet, but by the time I was their age I'd already drawn my line in the sand and there was a very short list of people whose opinions I considered important. Unless we can find someone they truly respect and listen to, these kids are going to keep on doing whatever the hell they want, and damn the rest of us."

They criticize the practice | by murderin' the plans

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject