firstworldproblem | IC Inbox 2 (Imeeji)

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.

Uh--sure, if you want. You don't got to go to any trouble or nothing.

And for real? How're you gonna climb the corporate ladder if the boss don't even know you're alive?

I'm sure they'd enjoy the puzzle.

[He can't help but laugh.]

I do wholeheartedly agree. Perhaps Paloma and Ruby will introduce me to some of their associates in Hell if I asked nicely. But I am ever patient.

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