notrosecolored | Duplicity Contact Post

You have prettier eyes.

[ That is another joke, this one self-depreciating. There's also nothing wrong with his eyes, but that's not the joke. For all Chris knows he doesn't even have eyes, but still.

Another beat or two of processing and he sighs. ]

In my defense I've had at least one person in my head for decades. It makes verbal communication less... necessary than it might otherwise be.

Suppose I'll have to take your word for it, won't I? Unless you're ever willing to tell me what they look like under those.

[He's never met someone so determined to cover their eyes. Well. Except Topher, but Topher was blind and Chris was pretty sure there weren't any eyes left. So maybe Scott's sunglasses were similar in function to Topher's magic band-thing: a way to see without sight.

A question for another time.]

I see. I'm sorry. [He didn't need to ask what changed, Scott had said his wife had died.]

Unfortunately, you've still the rest of us to deal with and only verbal or physical communication to rely on. Learning curve's a bitch.

Glowing red, or blue depending on what circumstances you're seeing them in.

[ Absent, because he's not really thinking about that part and that's the fairly easy conversation. The rest of it -]

I can manage most necessary communication just fine. It's the feelings into words that's an issue. Which is... going to be an issue here, unlike any other point in my life because all of this verbal communication has to happen around sex and other people's relationships.

I really hate this place more every day.

[Glowing red or blue? That was quite the difference in option.]

There’s a story in that one, but alright.

[The rest of that…is fair and Chris feels like he’ll be a hypocrite if he offers any insight at all…but…]

Yeah, that’s gonna be a hard one.
Dunno if it’d work, I’ve been sorta hit or miss, but I’m trying it for my own similar issues: friend of mine suggested ‘stream of consciousness.’ Works pretty well in text cause then you write it all out and edit the rest, but even if you just wrote it on paper for your head and no one’s eyes, that might help.

[He shrugs.] A thought from one emotionally-challenged asshole to another.

I convert energy into concussive force that constantly emits as red light and force through my eyes. I fell on my head when I was a kid and broke my off switch. The glasses block both. Before I gained that ability and on the rare occasion I've lost it, my eyes are blue.

[ That's the easy part. Maybe not an explanation that makes any sense, but it's at least factual and easy. The rest... is hard. On one hand, why do they have to talk? Can't they just talk about not talking. On the other, honestly, he just failed to get off with someone who was trying to help him - and who had his dick in his mouth - and fairness says that deserves something. Like effort. ]

Before I got here I had a friend beaten to death. Before that the last interaction I had with a guy who is here was trying to get him to kill me - then I showed up here and he's from several years into my future. Nothing makes sense and we're apparently in some happy triad situation with my formerly dead ex-wife.

I am still trying to get over everything leading to up trying to kill myself using someone else. Everything I've heard about the future confuses the shit out of me, and that's before we get into the sexual requirements here or what prison was and exactly how much that added additional trauma, to the trauma that put me in prison, or what led me to making the choices I did.

I don't know what to do with any of those people much less here and I'd really rather not be touched except I do.

...that is the most words with the least coherence I have uttered in my life. It might have worked.

Oh...well, good to know.

[There was, in fact, a story and an interesting one, even if he still wasn't entirely sure he understood, he at least 'knew' now. Maybe the understanding would come later.

Sadly, what Scott says next makes more sense, even without a why offered, he could understand the rest of it.

Without a word, Chis takes his beer and stands so he can sit on the couch next to Scott. Right next to Scott so their arms and legs touched.]

Well, I'm touching you, then, and only for a bit until you tell me to move or my own aversion to prolonged touch kicks in.

Beyond that....I'm sorry. That is a lot. You need your head sorted and possibly taken out of it. I'd say you ought talk to those that're here so they know what's stewing, but I'm the last person to say such, so fuck it. Do it as you can afore the city forces you somehow.

But... that made plenty sense to me, so I'd say it worked.

[ There's a faint quirk of a smile at mention of the contact until one of them can't take it anymore. Yeah, it feels a little like he's meeting himself.

That'd be less funny and frustrating if he liked himself more, but to hell with it. At least he's understood. ]

The last advice I'd give anyone else is to let the city force it, but I think I'll feel better if I do. Besides, I might learn something.

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