Dylas (
sullenstallion) wrote in
melodiesofeternity2018-06-08 05:06 pm
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Entry tags:
arm to the teeth [OPEN]
Who: Dylas and you!
When: After the new arrivals.
Where: A storage room in the Curti Center, laterwalking slithering to his home in the housing district.
What: Dylas receives a wonderful regain that earns him a few stares. Not entirely sure what's wrapped so tightly in the canvas, he decides to unroll it before heading home...
Warnings/Notes: Mentions of cannibalism, mostly played for humor.
i. can I give you a hand?
What’s their problem?
[Dylas asks the question aloud and at no one in particular as he makes his exit from the Biggs and Wedge. As if getting called out there wasn’t annoying enough—he’s been trying to keep a low profile for a number of good reasons. But those two assholes? They wouldn’t even look at him. Dylas calls himself a monster, but being stared at like one from people who have probably seen all kinds of weird shit is more annoying than hurtful. And all because of this parcel.
He looks down at where it’s tucked under his arm. Something from his home word, apparently, that’s what he’s carrying. But it’s long, lumpy. He can’t remember owning anything shaped like this back in his apartment. In fact, in Ryslig, he hadn’t owned many things at all aside from fishing equipment. This...it’s too short for a fishing rod. And with the canvas, he can’t smell it.
...well, it can’t be that bad.
And it isn’t bad until he’s stepped into what he thinks is an empty, seldom-used store room and sets the parcel down on a small table. He wastes no time in unwrapping it and, lo and behold, there’s a human arm staring back up at him. It’s still wearing its watch. Cute. Dylas stares down at it with a sigh, torn between relief, horror, confusion, and exasperation...when he hears the door opening. But it’s too late. He’s like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as the door slowly swings open.
How is he going to explain this?]
——Don't look!!! I'm, uh, changing!
ii. just another normal day
[So, maybe he understands why Biggs and Wedge didn’t make eye contact with him now. Maybe. Maybe he’s also surprised he made it out of there without any authorities being alerted, because what the hell. He’s heard about these things, these objects from other people’s home worlds. He never thought he’d get one. And now that he has one, he doesn’t want it. Throwing it away would also be problematic.
Dylas manages to make it to the housing district without any further unraveling incidents, but when your morning starts with someone sending you an arm, your luck isn’t bound to get much better. He’s slithering fast, his massive weight taking corners without pausing. One moment, a passerby could be minding their own business, and the very next there’s a giant snake-man clutching a package crashing or near-crashing into them.
Sometimes, Dylas is nicer, but today is not the day for that.]
Are you trying to eat sidewalk, or do you just have your head up your ass?
[He’s agitated enough by the encounter for his fangs to be showing, but maybe he’ll calm down. Maybe. Once he stops glaring and feels less tense about this whole ordeal.]
When: After the new arrivals.
Where: A storage room in the Curti Center, later
What: Dylas receives a wonderful regain that earns him a few stares. Not entirely sure what's wrapped so tightly in the canvas, he decides to unroll it before heading home...
Warnings/Notes: Mentions of cannibalism, mostly played for humor.
i. can I give you a hand?
What’s their problem?
[Dylas asks the question aloud and at no one in particular as he makes his exit from the Biggs and Wedge. As if getting called out there wasn’t annoying enough—he’s been trying to keep a low profile for a number of good reasons. But those two assholes? They wouldn’t even look at him. Dylas calls himself a monster, but being stared at like one from people who have probably seen all kinds of weird shit is more annoying than hurtful. And all because of this parcel.
He looks down at where it’s tucked under his arm. Something from his home word, apparently, that’s what he’s carrying. But it’s long, lumpy. He can’t remember owning anything shaped like this back in his apartment. In fact, in Ryslig, he hadn’t owned many things at all aside from fishing equipment. This...it’s too short for a fishing rod. And with the canvas, he can’t smell it.
...well, it can’t be that bad.
And it isn’t bad until he’s stepped into what he thinks is an empty, seldom-used store room and sets the parcel down on a small table. He wastes no time in unwrapping it and, lo and behold, there’s a human arm staring back up at him. It’s still wearing its watch. Cute. Dylas stares down at it with a sigh, torn between relief, horror, confusion, and exasperation...when he hears the door opening. But it’s too late. He’s like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as the door slowly swings open.
How is he going to explain this?]
——Don't look!!! I'm, uh, changing!
ii. just another normal day
[So, maybe he understands why Biggs and Wedge didn’t make eye contact with him now. Maybe. Maybe he’s also surprised he made it out of there without any authorities being alerted, because what the hell. He’s heard about these things, these objects from other people’s home worlds. He never thought he’d get one. And now that he has one, he doesn’t want it. Throwing it away would also be problematic.
Dylas manages to make it to the housing district without any further unraveling incidents, but when your morning starts with someone sending you an arm, your luck isn’t bound to get much better. He’s slithering fast, his massive weight taking corners without pausing. One moment, a passerby could be minding their own business, and the very next there’s a giant snake-man clutching a package crashing or near-crashing into them.
Sometimes, Dylas is nicer, but today is not the day for that.]
Are you trying to eat sidewalk, or do you just have your head up your ass?
[He’s agitated enough by the encounter for his fangs to be showing, but maybe he’ll calm down. Maybe. Once he stops glaring and feels less tense about this whole ordeal.]
cw: suicide
That is so logical it physically pains Dylas to hear it. He hears Rutile's argument, but he counters it in his mind. No. He is a monster. He has to cling to that. He can't say this is normal. It's enough to make his stomach knot, and, being a naga, there's...a lot of stomach.
He's silent for a moment, but he shakes his head. He can't even look angry as he says the first thing that comes to mind. The absolute truth.]
If I were a person, I'd kill myself. But Yue and I want to live. We're monsters. When we look at someone, we sometimes think about how they taste. And we choose to keep living anyways.
[It's so selfish to keep on living. But he wants to be alive. He's a coward, and...and for Yue, he's done nothing wrong.]
Call me a monster. Now that you understand, don't let me catch you trying to call me a person.
no subject
I won't be calling you a person, I can promise you that. ( it's an even-toned reply, as rutile's body eases off of the wall they had been leaning against, and they take slow, deliberate steps around dylas, and towards the door. )
You don't need to worry about me outing you, either. I have no intention of sharing secrets that don't belong to me.
( there's a hand on the door, and they pause.
there's a strangely softer expression as rutile looks over a shoulder. )
However, if you want to call these sorts of behaviours monstrous, then— I think you had better prepare yourself to meet a lot more monsters in your time here.
( and with a turn of the knob... they'll just see themselves out. )