golisolation | 💀 MoM IC INBOX 💀

Yeah, I felt that shit too. Not that I'm too worried about anything I got being shared.

[He says it pretty casually, but really he is worried. There's a lot of sensitive memories in this head of his, ones he'd rather not anyone know about. But, seeing as Emet-Selch isn't claiming to have experienced the same...he hopes that's because he hasn't.]

So you rose from the bottom to the top then? That's why you can see this Bulushit for what it is. Why you got an eye for spottin' it, that all these other dumbasses can't.

Makes sense.

Edited 2020-03-16 01:40 (UTC)

And you shouldn't. A young, straight-forward man like you?

[No hints from this guy about anything he saw. No siree!]

I did. I started as an infantryman and managed not to die long enough to gain the highest rank in our military. [He says it so cavalier, but—] ...Plus I saved a lot of lives from our brutal winters by inventing heating units and spearheading ceruleum drilling, so I was fairly popular at the time!

[His voice drops, the vigor leaving it.] However, my accomplishments are likely a little less impressive here. I noticed that they have little plug-in sorts. Much lighter weight, too. Much less expensive.

[Still, he doesn't know exactly what he saw, but he hopes he can twist it just so juuuust in case. He's not lying, though. So he doesn't feel bad about it.]

Ain't got no secrets.

[A bold face lie, but who the fuck wants to get more attention on himself about what secrets he hides when he doesn't want them to be discovered!!]

Sounds fuckin' rough, dude. Where I'm from, we ain't really dealt with war or nothin' like that. Our problems were more isolated and community based, than somethin' so large scale—but ya boy knows what it's like to be kicked down by the rulin' authority and such.

Dunno shit about that cerulean shit you're talking about, but you weren't kiddin' about that brain of yours, huh? Being an engineer and such, bet you could catch on quick with the tech here.

Do some real wicked shit with it.

[He hasn't mentioned anything about the eikons. Perhaps he should get a jump on that bit.]

A life filled with hardships, unfortunately! But it has ever been my life's labor and goal to ease man's burdens. To arrive at equitable peace and to banish our world of its cruel people and crueler gods.

[On the other end, Emet-Selch can be heard rummaging around somewhere.]

Oh certainly. 'Tis much simpler to read it in a book than invent something from whole cloth. That's why I bothered to try on those glasses at the convention... I'm sure I'll catch up and surpass the technology here. I've built much better teleporters than the ones even here, for instance...

Gods, huh?

[Guzma clicks his tongue with a bit of disdain.]

Both gods and people can be pretty fucked up. You and me—we ain't so different. Standin' up against them shitty gods and their followers. Them treatin' us like we're outsiders in our own homes, but we ain't lettin' 'em push us around no more...

So, what was the deal with that, huh? Were they tryin' to make you conform with 'em, or was it somethin' else?

[He'll touch on the big about technology in a moment. Dude's got skills, no doubt, but he's more interested in the conflict that Emet and his people faced.]

[That's right, Guzma. Just some poor victims, pushed around since forever...]

The entire history of where I'm from is a bit much, I think. But it boils down as thus: My people are incapable of using and wielding magic. Unlike here, where most people cannot, there— most people can. It is usually just a matter of learning a thing or two. And it seeps into every aspect of life!

They took our lands and forced us into the uninhabitable part of the world for ages. If only we could have simply lived in harmony despite our differences.

We kept some contact... we traded with them, but we were always expected to take bad deals on aught that we needed just to live. Food, fuel... The weather is so harsh, we couldn't grow anything. Hurricanes would constantly annihilate our buildings. We didn't even have magic to heal ourselves or make fires, and they weren't interested in cooperating with us. Only comparatively recently have we found a way to strike back against them and take what was ours.

[He seems to find what he was looking for and the noise quiets down.]

And they would claim that their Gods willed it, protected them even. [Well. Close enough.] My empire was founded on the ideals of protecting everyone from these cruel God's wills. Eikons, we call them, and they disrupt the very balance of nature, they control the minds of anyone unfortunate enough to come near, and wreak destruction. [Even though he said he wasn't going to give the whole history.]

[That...that's a lot.

If this is the abridged version, Guzma's not sure if he could take the unabridged. Either way, it certainly paints the situation for him, definitely makes his earlier feelings of light kinship with Emet that much more valid and profound. He listens to it all, doesn't speak up to interrupt it, nor ask questions, and when Emet gets to the end of it, Guzma gives a darkly amused hum of thought.]

Our situations are different, no doubt, but at their core...very similar. Yeah.

[There's few he's fully disclosed his situation to, and maybe only one here who understands it. Now there's two, and that means something to Guzma. More than some might realize.]

Me and my crew—we're a band of outcasts, rejects by our own society. We don't fit to the status quo, don't play into what they think we should be—not 'cos we're stubborn and unwillin', but a matter of we just ain't capable. We been fightin' back against the system, tryin' to bring about change to them moldy old expectations and traditions that were set by the island guardians—our versions of, uh, whatever you called em.

Daikons, or whatever. [wait, isn't that a vegetable? Guzma doesn't hang on it too long...] Anyway, point is you got my respect. Ain't nothin' more worthy of it than a dude who ain't afraid to stand up against the shit life throws his way—especially when he beats down those who'd beat him down in the process.

You may be heartened to know that where I’m from, there was no such thing as an outcast. [He’s gonna talk about Amaurot as if it’s Garlemald, whatever. ] Every person, regardless of ability was given time to grow and explore their own interests.

[Daikons.]

Well, I’m glad to have earned your respect, at any rate. I have to say, I admire your strength in the face of your situation. Defying tradition is never easy. But I respect it. My rule overturned countless bits of useless tradition that only hindered us.

Yeah? Well, where I'm from they try to say the same thing, so I've learned words ain't really what matters. Actions are.

[Though, he sounds interested in that idea. A place where outcasts didn't happen, where people had worth regardless of their individual ability. Where tradition meant nothing, and didn't place you on the outskirts.

That bit about admiring his strength, though? That catches him, and while he didn't expect him to downplay his abilities, he's still not quite used to outright compliments. Let alone someone understanding him in such a profound way.]

...Yeah. The strong gotta fight for the future, or it ain't ever gonna come, huh? I can't afford to be weak, not even for a second, and it sure says a lot about you to be able to pick that up. You get it.

Sometimes you gotta destroy everything before you can make the difference that needs to be done, right?

Mmm, ‘tis true that actions are the only thing that matters. And one can hardly build on unlevel ground!

[Those bits he got about Lusamine were very helpful. ]

Hmm, those that do not act are easy to take power from. Like these ineffectual policy makers that apparently rule our lives. [Especially even you have practice.]

So what do you see for the future?

Edited 2020-03-31 22:41 (UTC)

[What a question. One that gives him pause as he considers it. Guzma's not great at taking things seriously, something of a coping method to deal with the shit hand life's dealt him, but right here and now...he wanted to.

He's been surrounded by people who saw the good in him, but couldn't understand the bad. Couldn't fully grasp what's left him mangled on the inside, but it seems like--feels like--in one fell swoop Solus here has. It's a strange sort of feeling, what with their general unfamiliarity, yet at the same time, he felt familiar in ways that others have failed to.]

The future don't really matter much, does it? Not here, anyway. I'm survivin', but the bone I'm pickin' ain't with this lot--even if they're full'a shit.

[Not a total truth, he likes what he has for the most part, likes the relationship he has with Lucina, likes the gang he's made and maintained for the better part of a year. He still doesn't trust the government, still doesn't like that Lucina seems blind to its ploy, but there isn't much to be done, not when they have nullifiers like they do.]

What about you, huh?

Well, as I’ve always thought: control those would control you. Why run around in other’s silly games for all eternity? If they brought us here, they have reasonable means to send us back.

[Back before it seemed like the scales had been tipped. Even if he was so, so tired.]

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