I take it back. The Soul is a better topic, interesting as your shapeshifting is.
[ He can’t even get into Law, since the other two topics here are just so much more?? ]
I get the feeling if I say “it’s none of your business” you won’t let that stand as an answer… We parted because he betrayed me, if you must know. I’ll never forgive him for it. And it’s a long, rather painful part of my past, so I’d like to keep it there, before you ask for more detail.
[ If it were simple, he probably wouldn’t mind telling the story, honestly, but it’s not. All of the trauma that had made Hugo had led to Lycaon’s abandonment being uniquely devastating, and he’s not inclined to explain even parts of that story to anyone. Certainly not to Set, who he feels is just being nosy. ]
So! With that explained: [ was it… ] You’re able to communicate with yours in a way, then? Everyone I’ve asked has said no, save for Spectrals. I think ours are a bit “louder”, so to speak…
If there were a way to send mine along to an afterlife, I happily would. It’s a very angry little parasite, as far as I’m concerned.
Not direct communication, no. But, being attentive to the way it reacts to our environment yields much information about its state — what it fears, when it is vainglorious... the sky looked upon us with eyes, once. It terrified my Soul, and neither of us cower readily. I get along quite well with it, I feel.
[ Because the two of them are very alike, in terms of their perceptions of time and their sense of superiority. ]
Do not be dismissive of your Soul because you are unhappy, Hugo. You may feel opposed to it and sensitive about your appearance, but you both remain an essential cornerstone to the rapidly-dwindling freedom of Augmented.
[ A long pause might allow Hugo to begin formulating a reply, before the latter portion of Set's thoughts drift in. Despite that Hugo refers to it as a long, painful part of his past that he would rather leave in the dirt, Set has never been known for his tact, nor his manners. Especially,
Especially.
Not when the idea of "betrayal" factors in. ] — you were betrayed, and he yet lives?
[ Through the scar of their imprint, the sentiment throbs like teeth in one's throat. Claws in the belly. Ravenous fury, meticulous calculation, the remnants of cooled love, and the absolute, incandescent revulsion that anyone who has betrayed another is permitted to continue breathing. ]
[ He’s grateful that Set lets it go, or so he foolishly assumes. It’s enough for him to get to typing his response, because there’s plenty with the topic of the Souls. After all, Set’s description does match up better with his own experience than what he’s heard from others. More or less, at least. His own Spectral Soul is a bitter, vengeful thing, so he’s never felt anything from it but the intensity of those sorts of emotions. In contrast, he wonders if it even feels things like fear or pride anymore. He wouldn’t be surprised if it’s all an intensity of envious hate.
And, admittedly, a little pang of defensiveness over his sensitivity being pointed out. Set is right, of course. He’s more aware of it than anyone else here. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to protest it, though.
All of that wind goes out of his sails with that deceptively simple question, though. He taps at his screen for a few moments in consideration. He could just ignore it and barrel along. It’s almost a preposterous question on its face because no! Of course he hadn’t! That’s an insane thing to do!
…But also.
He sighs. Saves the message he’d partially typed up as a draft. It’s not that he’s worried that Set won’t let this go. It’s more that he might get the wrong idea from it. ]
Setting aside the fact that I’m a terrible romantic and thus wouldn’t be able to do it—
It would have proved him right, Set. I thought otherwise, but he never trusted me to not be a monster, as it turned out. That my blood was cursed to send me down a dark path.
Why would I give him that satisfaction?
Edited (I changed my mind… Hugo is so closed off lmf) 2026-01-03 07:13 (UTC)
"Proved him right"? The burden of proving you a monster should have been on him. Not on you to prove him wrong.
He is the one who thought you a monster. Any deviation from the standard he set for you would have been enough to condemn, and you simply... walked on eggshells, and called him your lover? That is not love. That is a hostage situation, with your sanity and self-image as the repeated price you paid. How dare he. How DARE he.
[ It's a strange sensation to read words like this. It's digging up feelings that he hasn't indulged in for... Well, not since the year after it had happened, and that was a year he was very much not proud of. His first (and only, so far) love failing so tragically had sent him spiraling for a good, long time.
Part of his heart feels pettily, spitefully validated by the words. It's the part of his heart that still lives in that year, when enough liquor was enough to loosen his tongue and he'd tell the stranger he was hooking up with about his ex. They'd say things like this too, but the feeling was always temporary. Sense would come back to him the next morning with the hollow feeling of knowing that their words were misplaced, at best. It's not like they knew the story.
So, he'd always been a coward. Block them, ghost them, whatever. He'd never see them again and never have to tell that story.
He's not that young man anymore, though. He's matured (thank god), but the words still feel uneasy. It's that disconnect of knowing he should explain, but also desperately not wanting to unearth one of the worst nights of his life. ]
I mean this in the most polite way possible, to be clear.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ He can’t even get into Law, since the other two topics here are just so much more?? ]
I get the feeling if I say “it’s none of your business” you won’t let that stand as an answer… We parted because he betrayed me, if you must know. I’ll never forgive him for it. And it’s a long, rather painful part of my past, so I’d like to keep it there, before you ask for more detail.
[ If it were simple, he probably wouldn’t mind telling the story, honestly, but it’s not. All of the trauma that had made Hugo had led to Lycaon’s abandonment being uniquely devastating, and he’s not inclined to explain even parts of that story to anyone. Certainly not to Set, who he feels is just being nosy. ]
So! With that explained: [ was it… ] You’re able to communicate with yours in a way, then? Everyone I’ve asked has said no, save for Spectrals. I think ours are a bit “louder”, so to speak…
If there were a way to send mine along to an afterlife, I happily would. It’s a very angry little parasite, as far as I’m concerned.
1/2
[ Because the two of them are very alike, in terms of their perceptions of time and their sense of superiority. ]
Do not be dismissive of your Soul because you are unhappy, Hugo. You may feel opposed to it and sensitive about your appearance, but you both remain an essential cornerstone to the rapidly-dwindling freedom of Augmented.
no subject
Especially.
Not when the idea of "betrayal" factors in. ] — you were betrayed, and he yet lives?
[ Through the scar of their imprint, the sentiment throbs like teeth in one's throat. Claws in the belly. Ravenous fury, meticulous calculation, the remnants of cooled love, and the absolute, incandescent revulsion that anyone who has betrayed another is permitted to continue breathing. ]
no subject
And, admittedly, a little pang of defensiveness over his sensitivity being pointed out. Set is right, of course. He’s more aware of it than anyone else here. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to protest it, though.
All of that wind goes out of his sails with that deceptively simple question, though. He taps at his screen for a few moments in consideration. He could just ignore it and barrel along. It’s almost a preposterous question on its face because no! Of course he hadn’t! That’s an insane thing to do!
…But also.
He sighs. Saves the message he’d partially typed up as a draft. It’s not that he’s worried that Set won’t let this go. It’s more that he might get the wrong idea from it. ]
Setting aside the fact that I’m a terrible romantic and thus wouldn’t be able to do it—
It would have proved him right, Set. I thought otherwise, but he never trusted me to not be a monster, as it turned out. That my blood was cursed to send me down a dark path.
Why would I give him that satisfaction?
no subject
He is the one who thought you a monster. Any deviation from the standard he set for you would have been enough to condemn, and you simply... walked on eggshells, and called him your lover? That is not love. That is a hostage situation, with your sanity and self-image as the repeated price you paid. How dare he. How DARE he.
A monster. Bah! Nothing about you is monstrous.
no subject
Part of his heart feels pettily, spitefully validated by the words. It's the part of his heart that still lives in that year, when enough liquor was enough to loosen his tongue and he'd tell the stranger he was hooking up with about his ex. They'd say things like this too, but the feeling was always temporary. Sense would come back to him the next morning with the hollow feeling of knowing that their words were misplaced, at best. It's not like they knew the story.
So, he'd always been a coward. Block them, ghost them, whatever. He'd never see them again and never have to tell that story.
He's not that young man anymore, though. He's matured (thank god), but the words still feel uneasy. It's that disconnect of knowing he should explain, but also desperately not wanting to unearth one of the worst nights of his life. ]
I mean this in the most polite way possible, to be clear.
But why do you care?