Gaheris Rhade (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
truth_is_cold) wrote2012-11-22 10:45 pm
truth_is_cold) wrote2012-11-22 10:45 pm
066
[Public | Text]
[Sent soon after he leaves the infirmary.]
Holiday meal preparations will be postponed until Saturday and for longer if requested. Materials for self-prepared items will be made available during the evenings in the meantime.
[Spam for Friends]
[Rhade knows Dylan has an obligation and duty to Cato, so he leaves to wait for Dylan to be done in the infirmary. He'll find him later. He needs to.
He's self-conscious now, what was a bandaged wound ripped bare for the people he cared about to see. A weakness that he is afraid of. He doesn't touch the network. He just goes to his room. He'll be in there for a few days recovering, and he knows with some disappointment that he will be provided ingredients for a customary meal he doesn't understand and his hands ache too much to make.
That's where he'll stay unless schedules make him leave, and for a rare instance his door remains closed during the day while he's there.]
[Spam for Ben]
[A couple of days later Rhade knows he can't cook a large meal without Ben, and Ben has been actively avoiding him, so he has to come find him. It's a talk that he dreads, but he knows that he has to have with him for many more reasons than a simple bit of assistance.
He knocks on his door and waits for a response.]
[Sent soon after he leaves the infirmary.]
Holiday meal preparations will be postponed until Saturday and for longer if requested. Materials for self-prepared items will be made available during the evenings in the meantime.
[Spam for Friends]
[Rhade knows Dylan has an obligation and duty to Cato, so he leaves to wait for Dylan to be done in the infirmary. He'll find him later. He needs to.
He's self-conscious now, what was a bandaged wound ripped bare for the people he cared about to see. A weakness that he is afraid of. He doesn't touch the network. He just goes to his room. He'll be in there for a few days recovering, and he knows with some disappointment that he will be provided ingredients for a customary meal he doesn't understand and his hands ache too much to make.
That's where he'll stay unless schedules make him leave, and for a rare instance his door remains closed during the day while he's there.]
[Spam for Ben]
[A couple of days later Rhade knows he can't cook a large meal without Ben, and Ben has been actively avoiding him, so he has to come find him. It's a talk that he dreads, but he knows that he has to have with him for many more reasons than a simple bit of assistance.
He knocks on his door and waits for a response.]
[Spam]
If you're hungry, just say so.
[Spam]
He tips his head.] I'll remember that when I need someone to make a run to the kitchen for me. [And then his friendly smile drifts to something more muted.
Yes, he can just accept what he has; a good friend who thinks that he's a good man. That's all he ever needed, and more than most Nietzscheans ever achieve in their lifetimes. In that he's already a success.]
[Spam]
I didn't say I'd get you food. I just want warning so I can keep all my limbs safely out of the way.
[Nah, he'd get Rhade something from the kitchen if asked. But not without teasing.]
[Spam]
[Spam]
And then, like a nova bomb going off in his head, it hit him. A dozen little hints fell into place. Things Rhade had said, gestures made, glances.
"It's one of your more striking attributes."
"When we fell asleep in your room, he came to ask you a question and... misconstrued what was going on..."
"It's not that you trust me, it's that you make assumptions about me."
"Dylan, I played Go with a hologram modeled after you for over a year because I couldn't stand what I'd done to you."
"For the past year and a half I've talked myself into not attempting to ever come and find you..."
"It's difficult, sometimes. I know where you are, but I can't be with you. Perhaps, though.... when I know you've succeeded, I'll have reason to come find you."
And then he knew. Not a suspicion, or a hunch. One second he was ignorant and then he *knew*. Like the information had been dropped into his head.
Now if only he knew what to do about it.
He realizes that he's been staring at Rhade and not saying anything for ten seconds. He shakes himself out of his frozen state.]
Uh...yeah. [What had Rhade just said? That's right, Nietzscheans rubbing off on him.] You know what they say, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Fight fire with fire...
[Spam]
But he looks a little too distracted with himself to have noticed, and finally Rhade's smile turns actually cheery. Hotel or no.]
You're still not all that nimble when you play with fire, Dylan. [His tone lighter than usual.]
[Spam]
[He looks at the board, trying to focus on the game again so Rhade doesn't notice Dylan's continued mental distraction. And...something's different.]
Speaking of schemers...
[Spam]
He wants Dylan to know, in his usually indirect way, that the hotel didn't win over him.]
[Spam]
I'm sure you had nothing to do with that, right? [Said with a small smile and in a tone that made it clear than Dylan knows exactly what Rhade did. And he's glad to see the Rhade is still as cheeky as ever, even after the events of the hotel.]
[Spam]
He's still proud that he noticed.]
[Spam]
Oh, I think your inmate's here. [He nods at the door. It's a pretty bad fake distraction but not as adrenaline-rush-inducing as claiming that there's a Magog behind him. All he needs is for Rhade to turn for a second so he can swap a few of the stones around.
It's not even about winning anymore, because they aren't playing against each other. The game is no longer Go, it's Cheating At Go.]
[Spam]
Which is much more visually appealing than them being sewn together.]
[Spam]
So Dylan starts to whistle with overdone innocence and without looking at the board reaches out to move a few pieces all the while pretending that he's doing nothing at all. All while Rhade is watching. It isn't the most subtle cheating, but it's results that matter.
He also notices that he likes it when Rhade purses his lips like that.]
[Spam]
Then just smiles a little, quietly, because he's amused in a good-natured way (very seldom though those moods are, they do exist).]
[Spam]
You are such a sneaky bastard.
[And...he loves him that way. Sneaky, cheeky, and loyal. He loves him.
That's one thing figured out.]
[Spam]
He's expecting Dylan to try something while his back is turned, though. He's giving him the opportunity.]
[Spam]
How're your lips and hands doing? [He says while he moves a few stones--with the final configuration exactly like it was when he started. He guesses Rhade probably heard a few quiet taps of stone on board. He'll see how long Rhade takes to determine that the board didn't actually change any. Cheating by not-cheating.]
[Spam]
[He returns with two glasses and puts one down by Dylan. He figures it out quickly, from the slight tensing of his brow as he looks down at the board.
He doesn't remark on it as he sits, however.]
[Spam]
[Spam]
My hands?
[The first question that comes out, and his swarthy skin might have managed to redden around the face a bit because it's so unexpected.]
[Spam]
Them too.
Re: [Spam]
I judged too quickly, you're getting very good at this.
[Spam]
I'm glad I meet with your approval. I know that Nietzscheans don't give compliments lightly.
[Spam]
We know how to respect our opponents. But you won't be able to distract me so easily now that I know what you're up to.
[Spam]
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Re: [Spam]
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