010 ♠ VISUAL ♠ Strike A Balance

[ironfright.livejournal.com]

[ Puck appears on the tablet screen, handling an unfamiliar guitar -- it seems that his beloved Les Paul never made a reappearance. He strums once, then keeps tuning it, but his heart obviously isn't in the task. ]

So what's the difference between a glitch and just going crazy? Neither of them is something that just gets decided.

[ private to Paul Smecker ]
So what did you learn from your quaint luncheon, other than that people will never help clean up the mess afterward?

Comments

[Locked visual]

[smecker.livejournal.com]

Paul grits his teeth, rubs at the bridge of his nose.

"Did you bother to listen to anything I said after the 'heavy handed tales' or did you just leap onto the part that conformed with the obvious judgment you've already formed of my entire species?

"I'm agreeing with you that people can be dicks, for fuck's sake. But we shit out da Vincis as well as Hitlers, we make goddamn Mother Theresas too. I'm no fucking rosy-cheeked optimist and even I can admit that there are good people in the world, and that some of them are here.

"Evidence does not support your conclusion that all humans are nothing but shit. Funny thing, though-- keep operating with your very clear attitude that we are? You'll prove yourself right, because, surprise, surprise, no sentient species reacts well to being constantly spat on."

Re: [Locked visual]

[ironfright.livejournal.com]

"... and even I can admit that there are good people in the world, and that some of them are here."

All the venom seems to go out of him in an instant. All the people who'd been civil to him -- no, actually nice to him -- had vanished along with so many others two months ago. In light of that he hadn't really put much effort into meeting any others, and just sort of coasted since then.

And now that he'd attempted to interact with a few more of the ones who were left, it was his own bitterness and long-standing resentment which proved the barrier to having even one or two amiable relationships. He wasn't blind or stupid; he knew he was the one at fault here. Most of the time he didn't care, or he made himself not care, but Paul's words hammered home the very accurate point that he brought it on himself.

"That'll be fine," he said dully. "I don't care."

[Locked visual] god I am the worst and slowest

[smecker.livejournal.com]

"Sure you don't," Paul says wearily. Because that's why you bothered talking to me at all, because you don't care.

He doesn't say it aloud though; the game of attempting verbal one-upmanship wears on even his nature at times.

"Rock that apathy, then. Should you wake up deciding to care? We're all still likely to be here. Unless, of course, we aren't."