WHO: Tezcatlipoca & Others WHAT: 2025 catch-all time baby WHERE: all over WHEN: all times WARNINGS: threads will include content warnings where appropriate!
[ Tezcatlipoca sighs at Silco’s assessment, but it sounds like he’s agreeing. He doesn’t say anything directly in response, since he does worry that if Silco remembers this, his honest thoughts wouldn’t be taken well. It’s surprisingly delicate work to push Silco towards something better.
So, he doesn’t answer that. He allows the conversation to turn towards himself. ]
Nah. Misery is a human experience. Doesn’t work that way for me.
[ He says it so simply, like it’s something factual. Even if he were talking to his Silco, he imagines he wouldn’t get it. He’d just gloss past it, dismissing it as something about being a god. It’s not like Tezcatlipoca ever asks him to consider that point of view. ]
But I’m a god of death, since I imagine you don’t remember that. [ JERK!!! ] Makes ya naturally pessimistic, and that's shared for sure.
[ A God of Death? Really? If it's the Kaiju putting thoughts into their heads, then Silco thinks that they should aim a little lower if they want people to believe them. That's just ludicrous. ]
Close enough, I suppose.
Well, I'm surprised you keep me around, regardless, if I'm so miserable. I can't imagine anyone wanting to be around me, if I'm as miserable as you say.
[ A soft sigh, he shakes his head, reaching out for his flask. ]
People like that tend to burn up everything in their paths.
[ The “duh” in his tone is clear, and at least it softens that stern, unsettling look. It’s as quick as if it hadn’t happened at all, since he’s right back to his casual, obstinate self. ]
I could go into the metaphors about burning and how it’s good for things in the long run, all that shit, but it’s weird to even explain it. Like, you’re my acolyte because you get that. More or less.
[ He takes one more swig just to be petty, but then hands the flask back to Silco. ]
And you’re right. Most people don’t want to be around you. That’s why this is so weird. You’re so normal, and it sucks.
[ His arms crossed, he looks at him with a look that is thoroughly unimpressed. ]
Miserable and unliked, is it?
[ And probably what makes this worse is what he says next, his tone biting as he says it: ]
That sounds terribly lonely. [ Can he even imagine it? A life so unliked... would he have Powder or Vergilius, or any of the teenagers that seem to flock to him? What would he even do with his life? ]
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no subject
So, he doesn’t answer that. He allows the conversation to turn towards himself. ]
Nah. Misery is a human experience. Doesn’t work that way for me.
[ He says it so simply, like it’s something factual. Even if he were talking to his Silco, he imagines he wouldn’t get it. He’d just gloss past it, dismissing it as something about being a god. It’s not like Tezcatlipoca ever asks him to consider that point of view. ]
But I’m a god of death, since I imagine you don’t remember that. [ JERK!!! ] Makes ya naturally pessimistic, and that's shared for sure.
no subject
Close enough, I suppose.
Well, I'm surprised you keep me around, regardless, if I'm so miserable. I can't imagine anyone wanting to be around me, if I'm as miserable as you say.
[ A soft sigh, he shakes his head, reaching out for his flask. ]
People like that tend to burn up everything in their paths.
no subject
[ The “duh” in his tone is clear, and at least it softens that stern, unsettling look. It’s as quick as if it hadn’t happened at all, since he’s right back to his casual, obstinate self. ]
I could go into the metaphors about burning and how it’s good for things in the long run, all that shit, but it’s weird to even explain it. Like, you’re my acolyte because you get that. More or less.
[ He takes one more swig just to be petty, but then hands the flask back to Silco. ]
And you’re right. Most people don’t want to be around you. That’s why this is so weird. You’re so normal, and it sucks.
no subject
[ His arms crossed, he looks at him with a look that is thoroughly unimpressed. ]
Miserable and unliked, is it?
[ And probably what makes this worse is what he says next, his tone biting as he says it: ]
That sounds terribly lonely. [ Can he even imagine it? A life so unliked... would he have Powder or Vergilius, or any of the teenagers that seem to flock to him? What would he even do with his life? ]