Gorthan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shakespearealien) wrote2012-06-26 07:22 am
shakespearealien) wrote2012-06-26 07:22 am
XI. [Video + Action for Goldenrod City.]
[All that Gorthan's feed shows today is this.
Fizzling blue noise and the Rotom that was formerly GLaDOS'. The voice coming from the Gear, however, is unmistakably Gorthan's. Dark, deep, pensive... and with the slightest hint of irritation.]
The songbird has flown back into her cage. A completely foreseeable outcome.
I understand that you miss her, and trust me, I feel the same way. I also understand that getting you to like me as much as you liked her will be no easy feat. But how are we supposed to get to know each other if you won't get out of there?
[The Rotom doesn't seem to be paying any attention whatsoever. It's just floating around the screen, smiling mischievously and making the blue noise fizzle some more.]
... You are broadcasting this, aren't you.
[Rotom's mischievous grin remains unchanged as it nods.
Guess whose PokéGear just got possessed by an electric ghost.
As for Gorthan himself, he's in his room at the Rocket HQ in Goldenrod, staring at the Pokémon currently in his device and wondering if the best way to successfully get it to come out is to just ignore it for a while.]
Fizzling blue noise and the Rotom that was formerly GLaDOS'. The voice coming from the Gear, however, is unmistakably Gorthan's. Dark, deep, pensive... and with the slightest hint of irritation.]
The songbird has flown back into her cage. A completely foreseeable outcome.
I understand that you miss her, and trust me, I feel the same way. I also understand that getting you to like me as much as you liked her will be no easy feat. But how are we supposed to get to know each other if you won't get out of there?
[The Rotom doesn't seem to be paying any attention whatsoever. It's just floating around the screen, smiling mischievously and making the blue noise fizzle some more.]
... You are broadcasting this, aren't you.
[Rotom's mischievous grin remains unchanged as it nods.
Guess whose PokéGear just got possessed by an electric ghost.
As for Gorthan himself, he's in his room at the Rocket HQ in Goldenrod, staring at the Pokémon currently in his device and wondering if the best way to successfully get it to come out is to just ignore it for a while.]
[private audio]
[Another pause; a few more notes against those strings.]
It's been some time since we've spoken in person. Care to join me?
[private audio] > [Action]
[He's being oddly meek for an Evronian authority. Even if it's Audio-only, one can almost hear him bow his head apologetically.]
I will be there shortly.
[More than anything, he finds himself incredibly eager to see Descole play. And it really isn't long before he comes knocking at the door of Descole's room - Gorthan is really hoping to catch him in the act, as it were, hoping that he's still holding the violin. Also, maybe now that the PokéGear with Rotom inside is resting idly on Gorthan's desk, the Pokémon will finally decide to come out.]
[Action forever then!]
Do sit down; the chair is fine, I don't mind.
[The room itself is incredibly dim; the overhead light is out, though the small desk lamp is on. There are quite a few Pokémon about, some of them providing further light, though not terribly much - there's a Litwick on the night table next to the bed, purple flame casting odd shadows on the wall, and once in a while a brief flicker of yellow electricity is visible from the far corner as his Luxray's tail swishes lazily into view from behind the desk, where the creature has taken to curling up next to Descole's Mightyena.
Descole seats himself on the bed, resting his violin in his lap and awakening his Raticate in the process; he looks up at Descole, half-asleep, before simply getting up, pacing in a circle, resettling and resuming his nap. Descole's Masquerain is also out, settled on the headboard; he pays it no mind.
...welcome to the menagerie, Gorthan.]
It's good to see you; as I've said, it's been some time.
no subject
[Before he finds the seat Descole is referring to, Gorthan spends a good few moments looking around the room, taking in the details and the Pokémon. He notes the use of a Litwick as a supplementary lamp - he does the same thing with his Lampent, after all. The Mightyena and Luxray ensemble also catches his interest. For just a small moment, he's reminded of how certain Evronian generals like to keep large dog-like creatures as pets, mostly so their fine sense of smell can aid them in various tasks.]
Ah, a lover of canines? Not necessarily canines, perhaps... large quadruped mammals as pets?
[Once he seats himself on the chair, Gorthan looks around for a moment longer, considering.]
A masked man lets me into his room... what a privilege. I am honored to see you lower your defenses for me.
no subject
Canines, primarily; I kept wolves back in England. They're a rather good line of defense, if you can get them to behave.
[He tips his head a bit at that second part; he seems no less entertained, however, offering a bit of a flippant gesture in response.]
Ah, no secrets in here, I'm afraid; the room is hardly mine to begin with. A place to sleep, perhaps, but that place belongs to the organization.
no subject
Wolves? How were you able to tame them? Where did you keep them?
[All the questions. And he has to restrain himself from asking more than these two.]
Very well said. Which obviously begs the question - where are your secrets kept? Is there someplace in this world that you can call your own?
[He keeps eyeing the violin, and his excitement at the idea that Descole could start playing at any moment is very badly concealed. Even if there are no notes in the air yet, his blue eyes widen in surprise and admiration, as if he were about to witness a forbidden ritual. ... And if he thinks hard enough about it, that is exactly what this is.]
no subject
[Like sharks. If you think the wolves are odd, he'll have to tell you about the sharks one day.
Either way, he doesn't seem fazed by the question regarding his secrets; he simply shakes his head a bit.]
I find that the best-kept secrets are the ones that can never be found, because I don't put them out there to be stumbled upon in the first place. One's mind is possibly the safest stronghold there is, you know.
[He's noticed all the attention that violin is getting, by the way, though he doesn't move to pick it up properly, still holding it down in his lap.]
no subject
[Ah, Descole, don't be a tease! Gorthan's attention is still mostly on the violin. Since he won't make a move to play it, Gorthan is currently wondering what kind of wood it's made of.]
I don't know about that. The mind can be such a fickle thing. Not to mention that it's strongly tied to our physical limitations, mortality, first and foremost.
no subject
[That's accompanied with a bit of a dismissive gesture; he doesn't seem displeased, but that, for now, is quite simply that when it comes to the devices.]
I'm going to assume you're bothered by the idea of one's secrets dying with them, then?
no subject
[His smile remains, unperturbed. Surely, his instinctive curiosity is being frustrated. But doesn't that just make everything more fun?]
I am bothered by many ideas. That is certainly one of them. Not to mention that the thought that you, an artist, would want to leave no trace of what you treasure most strikes me as paradoxical.
no subject
However, while he doesn't become more subdued at that second point and the smirk remains, his tone has hardened a little when he replies.]
There are times when that which we treasure most are best kept protected than discovered by the wrong people, Gorthan. Many of the things I do have destroyed my chances at a normal life; it's possible that my life will end without anyone ever knowing who I am. But I don't mind that; just because my work may have destroyed my life doesn't mean that it wasn't worth it.
no subject
Implying you deem your work to be much more important than yourself? Is that really what you think? Do you really not want your name to be forever linked to your accomplishments in the minds of posterity? Like Schliemann and Troy, when it comes to archeology; or Edison and the lightbulb, when it comes to inventions?
My thoughts on the matter seem to be quite akin to yours; however, unlike you, I come from a hive mind society, where individualism, that important factor in the motor of your society, is perpetually banished.
no subject
[Descole's response is prompt, his tone rather amused.]
Of course I would like my name to be linked to my accomplishments; my priorities aren't entirely elsewhere. However, the work itself comes first, should it come to that.
no subject
[He smiles, and it's a genuine smile. The thought of Descole getting credit for his work is one that makes him... happy. He is quite sure that normally, Evronian scientists don't feel that way about their colleagues.]
So. Will you tell me of your more recent pursuits? Alternatively, I will not hide that there are quite a few things I would be willing to do to hear more of your violin playing.
no subject
[Descole's tone is light, teasing, as he picks up that violin again.]
Do you have any preferences?
no subject
[He inches a little closer, visibly excited in an almost childlike way. He's quite sure he has never seen anybody play music from this up close. Not an earthling, at any rate.]
no subject
[He pauses for a moment before he starts; there are a few songs he remembers by rote, having heard them enough to nearly drive himself crazy while they were being composed - most of the pieces written by Whistler to be played on the Detragan are a good example. Leaving at melody-only will dampen the effect somewhat, but the piece he selects, though brief, is technically demanding enough, given that he's been sticking primarily to incredibly simple things while trying to get back into practice.]
no subject
[He'd ask more, but then Descole starts playing, and to Gorthan it's as if a sacred atmosphere was enveloping everything. He is so enraptured by the music that the thought it could have been written for another instrument doesn't even cross his mind.
All the while, Gorthan sits almost solemnly still, often taking large gulps of air, eyes wide in the almost childlike awe he unfortunately tends to display in these situations.
And when Descole is finished, Gorthan blinks several times, as if waking up from a state of sleep or trance.]
That was... magnificent, Descole.