02-14-2020, 12:39 AM
The aura of grim acceptance, as one so delicately put it, continued its pervasiveness around his person, as he paused to listen to the first intruder into his house. He shifted to the right a small amount, plucking at one of the silk strands on the walls, pulled taut, leading to a whole web of silk that stretched around and throughout the whole house. He had set it up after he first moved in, along with kicking out all the furniture, both as an aesthetic choice and just so he knew what was happening in his own home - now, though, the former didn't matter to him, and the latter switched from convenience to nigh necessity. It was funny, how life worked. At least he was prepared in this one case.
Even if it was just this one.
He could feel Beck's hesitance, his light steps, the odd shuffle of paws as an awkward person tried to figure out their footing in an alien world. He hadn't seen the phantasm since their wayward meeting in the boat fire, and yet he seemed concerned for his own well being. In another world, at this point in time, he would've thought it disheartening, that someone could get remotely attached to another in a single meeting, could show that amount of weakness. Now, though, he was simply enthralled by this concept. What made Beck tick, he wondered? People had to have some sort of function, otherwise rules about politeness wouldn't have been set up, rules that he prodded and poked at with the same amount of curiosity a child would a piece of roadkill on an empty highway. He could feel that curiosity rising in him once again, though it was - not tainted, nor replaced, but muffled by his current mood. It was a low conversation in another room to what used to be a guitar solo with the amp turned to eleven.
It was lonely, he said.
The spider began to talk, slowly turning around, not quite facing in the right direction, but oriented well enough to where his words weren't muffled. "Lonely," he mused, in thought. "Perhaps will get some plants. Find roommate. Would help with lonely feeling, yes?" He said, at first, a rough hypothesis that he spun on the spot, less refined and soft as some other things he might be known to spin. He realized, then, that he never actually responded to the question, and so he continued: "Yes, will leave in moment. Was just coming back to house. Believed act of small pilgrimage would help gather own thoughts."
Aurum was next, which he should've expected - and really, he wasn't surprised. Aurum's movements told him much as well. Hurried paws, heavy steps, confident, but straying away from the other guest in Abathur's domain, as if some sort of tension filled the air between them. A curious thing he would also have to think about. "Subject Aurum." He greeted, cordial, even if his voice still held the air of someone in another place mentally. "Am not that large, though." His voice was filled with much concern at that remark, as if he was truly worried about the phrase 'big guy,' as if its implications were something to be puzzled over.
He crawled towards the two then, taking the equivalent of a few steps. "Do subjects wish to come in? Probably still have furniture somewhere. Can spin up blankets otherwise... Perhaps self should plan more for social events on top of acquiring additional organisms in house."
For all that his mind was occupied on a lack of a sense, and the pressure put on him from that sudden inability to see, at the very least, he wasn't in fear of people disliking him.
Even if it was just this one.
He could feel Beck's hesitance, his light steps, the odd shuffle of paws as an awkward person tried to figure out their footing in an alien world. He hadn't seen the phantasm since their wayward meeting in the boat fire, and yet he seemed concerned for his own well being. In another world, at this point in time, he would've thought it disheartening, that someone could get remotely attached to another in a single meeting, could show that amount of weakness. Now, though, he was simply enthralled by this concept. What made Beck tick, he wondered? People had to have some sort of function, otherwise rules about politeness wouldn't have been set up, rules that he prodded and poked at with the same amount of curiosity a child would a piece of roadkill on an empty highway. He could feel that curiosity rising in him once again, though it was - not tainted, nor replaced, but muffled by his current mood. It was a low conversation in another room to what used to be a guitar solo with the amp turned to eleven.
It was lonely, he said.
The spider began to talk, slowly turning around, not quite facing in the right direction, but oriented well enough to where his words weren't muffled. "Lonely," he mused, in thought. "Perhaps will get some plants. Find roommate. Would help with lonely feeling, yes?" He said, at first, a rough hypothesis that he spun on the spot, less refined and soft as some other things he might be known to spin. He realized, then, that he never actually responded to the question, and so he continued: "Yes, will leave in moment. Was just coming back to house. Believed act of small pilgrimage would help gather own thoughts."
Aurum was next, which he should've expected - and really, he wasn't surprised. Aurum's movements told him much as well. Hurried paws, heavy steps, confident, but straying away from the other guest in Abathur's domain, as if some sort of tension filled the air between them. A curious thing he would also have to think about. "Subject Aurum." He greeted, cordial, even if his voice still held the air of someone in another place mentally. "Am not that large, though." His voice was filled with much concern at that remark, as if he was truly worried about the phrase 'big guy,' as if its implications were something to be puzzled over.
He crawled towards the two then, taking the equivalent of a few steps. "Do subjects wish to come in? Probably still have furniture somewhere. Can spin up blankets otherwise... Perhaps self should plan more for social events on top of acquiring additional organisms in house."
For all that his mind was occupied on a lack of a sense, and the pressure put on him from that sudden inability to see, at the very least, he wasn't in fear of people disliking him.
tags - "speech"