Welcome to Gaia! ::

He wondered if it was 'common sense' since that phrase had a nebulous, catch-all application that tended to be used most often to denote something that should be and wasn't.

"It was fair to be afraid of uncertainty, the dark, the weight of time when I was a child. Not so full grown, and facing the light of knowledge. "

His attention drew to the cat and ineffectual shooing, drawing a scar-crooked smile. You show 'im Faust. The unstoppable force meets the immovable wall. Really though, that can't be comfortable. "He's taunting you."

"I want to be in completely control of myself." It was the simplest answer to the 'goal'. "There are monks of various religions that have conquered so much of the useless, base self that they can hold a hand over flame until its a blackened stump and they neither flinch nor mourn the loss. "

"It will be a freedom from many boundaries. I believe it will be enriching to turn away from the shadows on the wall, and leave the prison of the cave." Quenton moved his hands to the thicker ropes of muscles at the base of the skull, slowly fisting fingers there as before- lifting the other in the relax against him just a little. He didn't count this time, but the duration was the same. The latter-most revelation drew his eyes down to the other man directly. Since his hands were in the others hair anyway, he tugged the base-hair to try to make Alois look up as he looked down. "You say someone, and not something."

That meant a thinking hunter. And a direct reference to the 'horrors' as understood by the civilian populace? The Youma rare seemed like someone's, which left various incarnation of senshi, of knights, of the Negaverse and of the strange colourless copies that hadn't been evident in months. Unless there was a new threat out there yet unknown. Unless I'm jumping to conclusions. Morphine as an addiction beyond what was given from a hospital can as easily mean something as regular as stiffed dealers. No less dangerous...really. It seems too normal and blasé-benign, comparatively.

My point of comparison. It's skewed.

It was a deliberate dodge of offering more information, making mute any offer of help. The phrasings of such thing were insulting anyway- Do you need help?
Need. Want. It is difficult, without knowing a person well to offer help using such things. Want and need have so many connotations of judgement or inability. Too many 'ifs' necessary for the both of us. Besides...I do not think he wants help, not from me. I'm not sure what you do want, Alois.

From youself. From others. From the world. What animates the so present viciousness that spurs as spines through that sunless skin?
The dilemma of it was another break point, as much as the paucity of company admission. It was a trouble of emotion that so much of it was so self-interested in expression. Something like 'I would not like to say goodbye' leaned so much on his own want. Weighted it as though important somehow to Alois' own wants or emotion. Is this where we might choose to try friends? The catalyst of separation enough a blow to force my kneejerk idiocy? I hate this. We cannot protect others, ultimately. Truthfully. But that much at least...to be welcomed at a fire in the dark...just to be. Maybe something other than trite, modern ' friendship.'
"You would be welcome at my home."

The eyes looking up at him had shifted attention, the pits iris mindful along the jagged scar. The question being vocalized was a surprising note of interest in something that smacked of the personal compared to the project or generics. It could be just a parry, one personal query against the previous to strike attention from Alois' himself to Quenton. But the sculptor let go of the pressure to scalp and hair.

"Smiling suppresses the gag reflex. " Whether cigarettes had any efficacious effect, he didn't know. Alois stunk of them, almost at all times. The change of flavor was probably preferable to bile, so Quenton didn't bother with any comment about scents of burning flesh compared to the toluene, hexanine, ammonia, and other awful smelling agents of regular cigarettes. He carefully got up and offered his good hand down to help the other steadily to feet.

"A man introduced me to the marvels of bladed weaponry."

It was true. For all that it hurt the more, like the remaining glue and staples just slipped free at the tug of an invisible string with that simple observation. As though it were possible to exsanguinate from word alone. The depth of it felt like teenage melodrama, drawing self scorn ravens to the scent of the kill. He couldn't muster a smile to cover over it-

He could only confirm it. "It is something to be named Cold by a misanthrope."

Quenton shifted with sturdier steps to take spot near the wall, leaned, opposite Alois and his cancer stick. It was better that the man redacted any expectation of answer to hard questions of that sort. Lying by omission was as bad as outright lying, and the explanations became exorbitantly challenging without utilizing the weaseling. "I do mean the offer."

"You wager your time short. I could try to come up with some excuse of art or philosophy to take up your time to enjoy the challenges of your company, but busywork would be an oxymoron to that. " A look at your cellphone and this place says something for what you accustom yourself to, though room with Alex of all people. I can't quite wrap my head around that situation. "I have little, but an open door is sometimes worth more than trappings of majesty. Alex's home is warmer."

There was no debating that, in company or amenity. "The offer remains. Even if just a place different for a few hours. "

A misanthrope asking another person not to die. We are a fine pair of puzzles. "You ask me not to fall to the grave, yet so recently toyed yourself in the arms of the younger brother. Thanatos is not so different or more malicious. You even help me build up his mantle around myself. "

He turned his gaze to looking out at the derelict part of the world that surrounded the studio with its wafting stale urine, mold-damp and dry rot from along the hall. The cigarette. " Your aspirations as ever remain a fine and private place. Once this is done...will see you, open doors or not. It is become as much a thing of your hands as my dream. "

"It's an efficiency studio. There's one bed, and you are welcome to use it. I tend to sleep very little, and not oft at once. Its....hard to turn off. "

"Two soft chairs. Two wallfold at a kitchenette table and a wireback third that can be moved around." Self-dubbed as a pest was a winning spin-doctor. You spend so much time trying to convince others that you are worthless. And debasing yourself to prove it. 'me first.' Of course, what else?

"One must survive."

"You are welcome your egoism. It makes the world go round."
Everyone running around trying to pretend they're not dying, not alone, not poor, not ugly, not corrupt, not a thousand things. Evern me- not alive, not hesitant, not ...in control. Control.

Ground rules of dwelling would make it a gift with strings. Most likely just end up a laundry list of things to break on purpose. And I don't particularly
care anyway, as long as he baths.

"There's food. I can leave yours in the fridge if you're not up to it- the toffee meringue gingerbread is especially heavy. " Alois' comment sounded mostly like they hadn't and wouldn't. It wasn't something he'd argue, given Alois' condition. It was a hard call- the idiocy and illness was self inflicted, but pushing the matter would end up with extra hours cleaning body fluid off the project pieces. He'd rather sacrifice the time and be able to finish the project (unwetted) together than push the issue of one day. Besides, the other had been making clear progress the whole time he'd be living the sterile life. Quenton retrieved his bag and pulled the second lunch set from it to stow.

"Just call before you come, if you do. There's a security guard on duty as their nod to parents about being safe as campus life, even though its a private apartment building. I'll let them know to let you through."

Is it disregard, actual resentment, or something else? And what lays as reasoning behind such certain assertions for the world to burn? Or the certainty of it? In millenia of course it is inevitable- the sun will nova and the Earth will be gone according to science. I don't even want to think about what or how magic fits into that.
The paradox of someone saying 'me first' but then saying they hate egoism is already a brain twister.

The sculptor watched the ill treatment to the cat with a frown. Active abuse of an animal was enough of a push over his personal limit of not correcting someone, "That's not how how to properly handle a cat. They are thinking, feeling beings. "

Though puking on the cat as some sort of antagonistic payback was entertaining. Maybe Faust would even approve of the creativity and malice.

"No, they'll just ask you to sign in on a sheet. They don't bag check or frisk." Quenton slung the bag over his shoulder, now divvied of its important contents. Maybe sanding alone in a heap was therapeutic. He turned on his heel, calling over his shoulder from the door, "Don't just eat the dessert- high sugar foods are hard on the stomach. "