Oh Hell No [Closed]

[control_freak]

Who: Taako and Foster
When: After Rex's Birthday Party
Where: Lakeside
What: Taako tries to figure out what Foster's problem was. Foster has to explain black people to some kind of space elf, I guess.
Warnings: Foster is trying to explain black people, racism, and genetics to an elf. I don't know, it'll probably be kinda... dicey.

Hours later, Foster was still at the lake. After escaping the party (he'd attended, he'd been there, he had obeyed his supervisor's order(s), even if in letter only and not by spirit), he'd found his way there, somehow, at some point. How or when, he didn't know. It didn't matter.

If he'd had an idea in mind when he steered himself here, when fate(?) had driven him here, again--

Mmh. Was that it?

He couldn't immerse himself in the water now, could not sink into its dark swallowing depths, not without committing himself to its final definition--not without submitting himself to the water's judgment and abandoning himself to drown.

Was that what he'd meant to do on his way here? He couldn't remember.

Over time, it didn't matter. He sat by the water's ledge, on a bank of clay, his hooved feet dangling in the water--he was cooling off, literally and otherwise. He was still agitated, but not in any emotional way. Just... his brain was scrambled up, snarls and turbulent echoes. A condition he was treating, intuitively, with silence and water.

Comments

My head hurts just take it

[control_freak]

It's too late now, I guess.

Honestly, what was even the point? Why did he have to explain anything--since they were going to have to be 'around' each other regardless of his reasoning, wasn't it pointless to make him explain anything at all?

Instead of saying that, however, Foster laughs at it. It's a cover for how he actually feels--a habit, maybe, a reflection of the feeling of absolute futility. Is it funny? Not to anyone, really, but there's a kind of absurdity to pointlessness that makes it much easier to laugh.

But laughing doesn't communicate his message. It is with a kind of earnest vehemence that he deflects Taako's 'good' intentions.

"No, please do whatever you want! Being nice--civil--to someone like me is a mistake. The only appropriate way to handle this is to be as indifferent to my condition as it pleases you to be."

[tacosgay]

... that's... offputting. Taako's expression shifts, just a bit; not quite showing just how unnerved he truly is, but it's pretty obvious that he's a little bit deflated by that response.

"Look. I've got no problem with you. Seriously. I mean, if you want me to be an asshole to you, then fine, I'm more than willing to do that, but, like... that's tiring, you know?" Is he joking? Is he serious? It's unclear, and the tilt of his head, the narrowing of his eyes could honestly imply either.

[control_freak]

Why should Taako be deflated at all? Foster just gave him free rein to do whatever he wants. For whatever reason, without question.

"More tiring than pretending to be nice to someone who already doesn't get along with you?" Foster smiles, at least until he breaks eye contact.

Then he turns to Taako fully, spreading his hands--

"So go ahead! Abuse me however you wish! Slam doors in my face! Humiliate me in public! That's the appropriate way to handle garbage!"

[tacosgay]

"Okay," Taako says, and he sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "How about this: indifference. How's indifference hit you?"

Foster hasn't even done anything to earn Taako's proper anger except be very vocally upset about Taako's face.

[control_freak]

There's a moment, maybe just half a moment, wherein Foster looks at Taako out of the corner of his eye, that same weirdly empty smile brightening his face. But then he just looks out over the lake again, half-contemplatively.

"For now," he replies.

His tone is calm, somewhere between cheery and ominous.

[tacosgay]

"Yeah, that's fine," is Taako's exasperated response. Talking to this guy has officially stopped being interesting, for the time being, and started to become something of a headache. Well, he wasn't able to solve whatever grand mystery that would make this motherfucker make sense, but at least he now has some idea what he's so worked up about. Sort of.

"... so, hold on, are you now planning to wrong me somehow? Or is that just an expected part of the package deal with you?" He can't resist firing off again, after a few minutes, despite his growing annoyance.

[control_freak]

if by 'firing off,' he means 'hitting the nail a little too on the head,' then yes. Foster just laughs at him, but doesn't bother to confirm in either direction. Or rather, he is confirming--it's just not clear which one, or to what degree.

He's not even look at Taako now--just out over the water, his eyes lidded half-mast and the ghostly traces of that smile still touching his lips like he's involved in some private thought that has nothing to do with the elf.

At the very least, he's less... openly angry about things.

[tacosgay]

"... okay, cool. Good talk, buddy." With a sigh, Taako spins the Umbra Staff around his finger, and then hangs it at his back again, fairly confident this guy isn't about to launch into him-- he's clearly got his own shit going on, and Taako isn't entirely sure he wants any part of it.

Well, he's kind of involved whether he wants to be or not, by this point, but maybe he can just try and ease his way right back out of the path of whatever oncoming clusterfuck this guy's life is.

"Well, if that's all, then I guess I'm... gonna go? Unless you've got some other racially-charged fuckin' discourse you wanna throw at me here."