firstworldproblem | IC Inbox 2 (Imeeji)

Emet-Selch: What else are we to do when we are unable to scheme and plot?
Emet-Selch: Wherever Five is from. I do believe that would fall under 'western'. Though that depends on if you even believe the books in the library.
Emet-Selch: As for the poems, are you looking to write or interpret?

Nemesis!: so the only options really aRE fuck marry kill huh
Nemesis!: anyways i got a poem but not sure what it means
Nemesis!: interpret sounds so hoity toity tho sry

Emet-Selch: You can through study in that list.
Emet-Selch: Would you like to come to BARiTONES?
Emet-Selch: And I can use other words. Decipher. Ponder. Question. Though I am not sure any are better.

Nemesis!: thats a real loaded question
Nemesis!: is btones gonna drop me into a spike pit of alligators or sth

Emet-Selch: We don't even have a snake pit!
Emet-Selch: We do have a receiving room with plush chairs and a bar, however.
Emet-Selch: Though we meet somewhere else if it more comfortable for you.

Nemesis!: nah
Nemesis!: just wasnt sure if yall were drop pit happy as kohime
Nemesis!: but i aint afraid of suits
Nemesis!: dunno i ever been up there before

Emet-Selch: If we invite you in, we will be on our best behavior.
Emet-Selch: Well, except perhaps Eichi, but he has calmed down since my arrival.
Emet-Selch: We have a beach, an aquarium, and a room with the stars if the wooden and red motif it too dark.
Emet-Selch: I will meet you outside the dorm shortly.

Nemesis!: huh ok
Nemesis!: up in a sec

[Indeed, as promised, she makes it up to Baritones' floor with minimal delay. It's possible her face is freshly washed and her hair got a quick fingercomb but shh]

[Surely there is no redness around the eyes, right?]

I suppose I could have offered the balcony, but this seems more formal.

[He leads her past the receiving room and into the main area of BARiTONES proper. It is all jazz and spotlights and dark woods and red. He motions.]

Or would you like something more private?

[No, though the bags under them are heavier than usual. She seems alert enough as she cases the room, however. There's a satchel slung over her shoulder but her thumbs are hooked in her pockets]

Don't gotta be formal just for me.

[A pause]

...Though if there's someplace at least a little outta the way, maybe that'd be good? Don't gotta have everybody see how hopeless I am at this stuff, y'know?

Trust me. Most on this unit are just as hopeless.

[He shows to her to the aquarium bar which looks like someone's office with fish tanks all around, even above. It gives it a nice otherworldly glow. He sits down at a chair and motions to another.]

I do believe we are rather forced to be formal, but we could have worse unit aesthetics.

[He did bring a few reference books.]

Is this poem or poems.

[She follows nevertheless, looking a little more settled to be somewhat less out in the open; takes the chair she's offered with minimal hesitation. A beat and she opens her satchel, pulling out a notebook and a thick, bookmarked anthology]

Well... I got a couple, though don't need to look at 'em all.

There's one what makes more sense, and one what makes less sense...so whatever you prefer to take a look at.

Let's start with the easy one.

Is this a personal endeavor or for someone else?

[Hesitates, then]

...Gold and them're taking classes. So that if they get outta here, they'll still know stuff. So I started thinking about it...

And you decided why not pick up a few skills yourself. That's actually quite clever.

May I see what you have?

[Leaning over to see what is in the thick, bookmarked anthology.]

[Shifts a bit, then pushes the book over, opening it to one of the bookmarked pages; it seems to be the middle of a sequence of poems by George Abraham]

Uh, so I'm looking at this one--kinda heavy, but I'm not really sure what it's s'posed to mean...

4. Still Life with the Physicists’ Scarred Forearms

you have seen the jawbone erupt into ambrosia
clouds & escape from skull in flowered exit wounds –

you have seen the ribcage turned vine rivulet, survived
the water lillied pillows, plucked from our refracted matter
before you swore you housed an expanding genome –

you knew self-detonation’s song before nature mothered
you into everything & nothing all at once – the ghosts
of a thousand knives blooming inside that earth-still
skin; what parts of us were born into a history outside

of restless; i confess, i too have dreamt myself flowered
in death; annihilation was the easiest history i could write
of myself; i immerse myself in refracted rivers, of chalk
& blackboard – i construct arcadias to forget myself

in every framework; yes, every history of self is a suicide
mission by construction – sometimes, the bloodiest
destinies are written in the gardener’s palms –

here, every vine & root demands blood –
here, every life is birthed from hollow absence –

[Emet is good at this, but I am not. :(]

[He reads it looking a bit surprised as he sees the context.]

Here I thought it would be a love poem. Was this person part of a nation conquered?

[See why I play someone who is not smart,]

I can't tell if the love poem thing is supposed to be an insult...

...But--yeah, maybe? You think so? What even is a "vine rivulet"...?

[Sometimes I miss 99. It is true. Dumb as a brick that one.]

No. I simply assumed we get enough of the macabre during games that you would not seek it out outside of them.

It sounds like a tumulus history if nothing else. And the various descriptions that elude to land makes me think of one that has lost their home.

I don't think it is a real thing, but if you ask the Producers to whip one up for you, I'm sure they will manage. Though there are monsters that are simply mouths and tentacles. Perhaps a distant cousin.

[Thanks Morbols.]

Edited (Sorry about my fail html) 2021-07-27 05:53 (UTC)

Running into something that's just mouths and tentacles sounds like a story with a not great ending...

[She folds her arms]

...Okay, forget vine monsters. You think the--narrator or whoever lost their home? So...maybe they're trying to go someplace else...trying to get somebody else to let 'em in...?

Don't you get a sense of regret and helplessness from it. Though at least the character in the poem is educated it appears. So perhaps a lament of being seen as lesser even though they were not treated as such. For I do not think this is the cause of a natural plight, but a man made one.

Why this book if I might ask.

Yeah...I guess.

[Considers this as he asks his question]

Just searching for some verse somebody referenced, to see what it meant... This's what came up.

...I mean, not all of us got a job like you do, so we gotta keep busy how we can.

Referenced in what manner?

[He can't help but laugh.]

If lounging about is considered a job, then I am rather skilled at it. Unless you were referring to my audition status.

Somebody said it, and it's the stuff you'd remember.

Yeah. I mean, don't you gotta do errands, or do you got quotas or something?

Do you mind if I make a copy of it then? Vergil and Lily are better versed in poems than I.

[He laughs.]

So I have been told. But never once have I been contacted by any of the Producers. I know Eichi and Paloma had some dealings as well as Absinthe. But it appears us 'younger' ones are left to our own devices.

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