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[ So, his expression softens. With that flush from the more embarrassing part of the conversation, it comes off as a bit bashful, but his words are as confident as ever. It’s hard to tell what he’s actually feeling. ]

But. I’m flattered that you think so, truly.

[ He doesn’t agree. But he won’t reject the kindness of the sentiment. ]

Perhaps that’s what separates me from a scoundrel? I am a gentleman thief, you see. So, I couldn’t break someone’s heart that way. Or keep up that kind of lie for my own heart, for that matter.

I get it. It's the kind of thing you'd wanna be honest with, yeah? But if it's risky to open yourself up like that... just have to either fake it or avoid it.

[it's difficult to open oneself up like that even without any risk involved, he knows that much. gregor rarely does-- he's had too many tentative attempts at it go poorly for him to feel comfortable, and while it's easier with hugo, it still hasn't been so easy. he still finds himself half-expecting to be brushed off when he does, and pleasantly surprised that it hasn't happened so far.]

Usually safer to go with the latter.

…Precisely so.

[ As chatty as Hugo can be, such a simple response feels understated. In fact, it’s almost awkward, because there’s a silence that lingers rather than his usual habit of cheerily filling the space. He just looks at his wine glass pensively, but the smile is gone. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, but it does seem like he’s weighing a heavy topic.

So, when he breaks the silence, it’s probably not with what Gregor expects. ]

…I think you should go for it. Even if things don’t work out, it’s not like it’s a waste of time to have tried.

[ Why bring up his story? That’s what he’d decided. It would sound like a warning, like diving into a relationship would just turn out in disaster. Hugo just doesn’t believe that’s true. Not for others, at least. ]

Just start out small. Go on a date. I won’t say “pretend that the night didn’t happen”, since it did, but. At least for the date, pretend it didn’t. That’s how you’ll see if there’s a connection to continue pursuing, in my opinion.

[it seems understated, but-- gregor is similar, frankly. when something weighs on him, he's much less wordy, more withdrawn. so coming from someone like hugo, who fills empty silences so readily... the lack of words feels more notable than a longer response would be.

he lets that space sit unfilled, taking a quiet drink while he waits for hugo to decide what he wants to say.]

...yeah, that might not be the worst idea. But, uh...

[he finishes a little sheepishly:]

I don't guess it's a surprise to say I haven't been on one either, is it?

It’s not, but that’s fine~.

[ Hugo smiles again, and though it’ll take a moment for his usual casual lightness to return, this is an easy topic to do it. ]

Maybe it’s similarly not much of a surprise to say I’m an expert when it comes to dates. I don’t play with people’s hearts, but dates are a perfect way to gather intel and go unnoticed. So, I’ve been on many. Sometimes with new people, sometimes just faking dating with other members of Mockingbird….

[ He waves a hand vaguely, then finishes off his wine. He sets the glass down on the table to pour himself another while he talks, and he tilts the bottle towards Gregor with a questioning glance to ask if he’d like a top off. ]

And at its core, it’s just finding something nice to do together that gives space to talk. So, no movies, plays, et cetera, even though people always rate them so highly! [ He tuts his disapproval playfully. ] Have either of you found something you like to do here? That’s a decent place to start.

[he tips his glass toward hugo in response, holding it out so that he can pour; yes, a topoff is absolutely in order with the places this conversation has gone.]

Keeping in mind that there's no guarantee they'd even want to-- nothing that I'd say would lend itself to the, uh, date idea. Dinner's off the table, they can't eat regular food, and I don't think either of us really has much in the way of hobbies...

[his normal hand rubs at the back of his neck with that thought, brow furrowing.]

... it's been a few months here already, and I just didn't think much about what else I can do with my free time. Guess I'm too used to not having the chance.

[ Ah, yes, he’s recovering from that dark, pensive moment quickly, because Gregor makes it easy… Maybe it’s at his expense, but Hugo’s mischief and teasing is light and good-natured, at least. ]

Really? Neither of you do? [ He tuts, shaking his head as he draws back now that they both have their refill. ] I understand the difficulty, just based on what you’ve said about home, but goodness! Maybe I should be the one taking you out on a date first as practice~.

[ As usual, it’s hard to tell how much of that is a joke, but there’s part of it that isn’t. He wouldn’t be opposed, anyways. Considering what he’d just explained, a platonic date isn’t out of the ordinary for him. He’ll think on some ideas, but first. He can’t help but dig into that little passing remark. ]

…Though, since you mentioned it, I’m curious, if you don’t mind. They’re a Spectral, as I recall, so what is their diet nowadays, do you know?

As-- what?

[now that's a suggestion he hadn't expected, even if it is probably just a joke...

and he's not sure how to feel about that, actually. even if it's not only teasing after all, something about it-- well, it doesn't quite rub him the wrong way, but there's a strange feel to it regardless. more of a brush of something just a little out of place.

it'd be no big deal, naturally. just practice. nothing to it! (maybe it's that it's close to the idea of a pity date? but he isn't going to examine that any further when he has a perfectly good question to pay attention to.)]

They, er, they're a Spectral, yeah. Think they phrased it as... consuming 'life', more or less?

[ Hugo just laughs without confirming his comment one way or the other, but it’s only because his question is more important. His air in asking is casual, like he’s just curious how his fellow Spectrals differ, but truthfully? He’s much more deeply invested in just how morbid their new diets seem to be. He knows this is potentially opening up the door for Gregor to ask in turn, but that just makes it a little test, right?

(He doesn’t like that he thinks this way.) ]

Ah, something figurative, you mean? It seems like most of us are blood drinkers, so… That’s a bit more literal.

[ And considering Hugo’s little fangs, it’s easy to assume that he’s in that category too. ]

…Does it bother you? That it’s something macabre like that?

Well, they don't have a mouth, so... little bit figurative, yeah.

[there's-- not much reaction from him at the last question either, actually, just a half-shrug as he takes another drink from his glass.]

And I'd be a pretty big hypocrite if I said it bothered me all that much. It's... of course I'm no big fan of killing. I'd rather not when we can avoid it, it's a shame to have to take a life, but... so it goes in the City.

[either you get real good at compartmentalizing it, at separating the necessary targets from others, or you don't survive war-- which has been an invaluable skill when it comes to working for something like limbus company, as it turned out.

after a pause, he exhales a little puff of a breath. ah, fuck it.]

Lemme put it this way. The vehicle we use back home runs on human fuel, and I've been watching that damn thing chew people up for months. I can't go and get all squeamish about that now.

[ At first, Hugo’s expression stays about the same—curious, but polite, because he’s trying to create a little distance from his own curiosity. So, Gregor’s answer is a little bit of a relief, even though it doesn’t show outwardly. If that’s his opinion, then maybe he could— ]

What?

[ The thought dies immediately as Gregor continues, and the polite expression just becomes one of pure bafflement. He almost feels like he misheard, because that doesn’t even make sense. Does it? ]

Sorry, I— [ ??? ] I wasn’t expecting that. You’re being serious, aren’t you?

[ It’s practically a rhetorical question, though. It’s not really like Gregor to joke around, uh. At all, really? That’s more Hugo’s thing between the two of them, but even so, it wasn’t exactly this. ]

No, don’t answer that. Of course you are. But… No wonder, I guess. I thought New Eridu could be quite brutal at times, but it seems like your city one-ups it easily.

Yeah, it's good at that, from what I've gathered about the places other people come from. ...They, uh, do usually attack us first, for the record. Not like we've had to go around looking for fuel.

[which also says something about the way things are in the city, if they get enough fuel to run the thing off of being attacked.

his fingers run through his vines, shoving them back behind an ear.]

Nobody can help what they've gotta do to survive in circumstances like this, either. I can't judge anyone for that-- a colleague of mine's a blood drinker too, y'know. Kept it under wraps for a long time before we found out. I've never thought any less of her for what she is.

[ His immediate instinct is to ask why they would be attacking, but he realizes it doesn’t matter all that much. It’s the same for Ethereals, right? They’re creatures that anyone entering a Hollow would kill without question, even knowing their origins. So, he understands, actually, even if the form it takes is very different. His expression essentially says as much as it relaxes from the surprise, though it’s a soft, thoughtful one that replaces it. ]

True… I agree with you, but I suppose I don’t expect that from others.

[ He shrugs, like it doesn’t bother him, but idly, he runs his thumb along the stem of his glass as a light but nervous gesture. ]

It’s still kind of you, though. Both for her sake and your Manager’s here, I think. [ And for him, but that seems to be the think he’ll leave up to implication. At first, at least. After a little pause, he continues. ] Every Spectral seems to have a macabre “diet”, so it’s no wonder that the locals are afraid of us. Anyone would be, when our Souls demand death.

Not like it's easy on you all, either. Even if somebody's used to fighting or killing, it's a whole other thing to need to feed off others.

[he can tell, from the way his foliage gratefully sucks up blood, that he's probably... at least a little bit the same way. not in full, maybe, or perhaps just not yet-- but he's noticed it. there's a good chance he's in the same boat.]

But they'd be scared of you no matter what, just like they're scared of the rest of us-- if it wasn't feeding off of them, then it'd be because Spectrals being able to go all intangible is creepy to them, or because they think you'll haunt them in the night.

They'll always find a reason to be afraid of anything too different.

[ Hugo huffs out a sardonic little laugh into his wine. ]

Ah, and that’s true too. No matter what, we probably can’t win when it comes to not being horrors to those locals either. It’s a fact that would be more palatable if they turned some ire Patho-Gen’s way too, but alas.

[ There’s a little pause, and for Hugo, it’s again just a little too long, but he breaks it with a laugh and a shake of his head. ]

—It feels like a strange thing to say, but I’m glad, you know. That you’re not bothered by it. Or that you have experience with it, rather? The locals can be afraid of me or hate me or whatever else, but it’s being looked at with scorn by the Augmented that I’m more afraid of.

You too, huh...?

[it's not a shock, given the similarities they seem to have, but it's still something of a surprise to hear hugo say he's afraid of anything.]

It's different when it's people who're more separate from you, but being looked at that way by people in the same situation... that one hits closer to home.

['i'm disgusted that i once saluted to your face.'

'you're no different from us. in the end, we're nothing but... disgusting pests.'

...yeah, it always feels a little worse when it's like that. he gives his head a quick shake to clear it.]

Well, anyway-- I don't mind it, so if you ever end up having trouble eating, let me know. If it comes down to it I can at least just let you feed off me.

Edited 2025-12-26 22:53 (UTC)

[ Privately, there’s a decision in where he takes the conversation. He just nods lightly, like he’s accepting his offer but just hesitant to actually say it. Not that it’s a misconception that he should clear up. He's not a blood-drinker. He's a murderer.

It’s the exact fear he’s talking about, right? He’s a coward when it comes to anything real, and he can’t even blame the Spectral soul for it. He’s always been able to deflect and lie with the best of them. Later, when he’s alone, he’ll hate it all the more. ]

Of course. In fact, the turn of phrase is the irony of it. “Close to home.”

[ The thing is, the trick with being good at something like this is to at least include a truth in its place. ]

I’ll spare you the depressing details, but I had an unhappy childhood. I was looked at with scorn from the day I was born since— [ He taps his cheek lightly underneath his grey eye. ] My eye was the marker of infidelity. A rich family doesn’t like a bastard son. My half-siblings made a point to remind me of it as often as possible, even if their circumstances were only barely better.

[ Even if he’s vague enough that the idea of sparing Gregor the details seems almost like a joke, it’s understandable. Hugo’s voice may be calm and easy, but there’s tragedy even in what little he says. ]

You would think that it would have made me more numb to being loathed, but it didn’t. It’s why I left them once I had the courage to do it. I figured being homeless was better than having to continue to bear all of that, you know?

[ He may be deflecting from something else, but the uncomfortable honesty still catches up to him. He averts his gaze to his wine glass as he swirls it. ]

Yet, no matter how I’ve tried, that past just doesn’t want to stay buried. I wouldn’t have expected such a fear to rear its head this way, though~. Becoming a literal monster is rather on the nose in term's of fate's awful sense of humor.

...whole world's got a bad sense of humor, if you ask me.

[he says after taking all that in, with another shake of his head.]

But numbing yourself to it isn't ever much better. Just makes it easier for you to lose your empathy, and you end up doing the same thing to people-- it happened to you, so why shouldn't you get to do it too? Life wasn't fair, so why should it be fair to them?

[it just keeps the cycle going. these things become permissible, that treatment continues on, and then the newest victims of it go on to do the same-- unless they break from the source one way or another.]

Doesn't make the hurt or the fear from it any easier to deal with, but at least having 'em means you can still understand it all. Keeps you human. You're not a monster so long as other people still matter to you-- way less of one than some so-called people I've known.

[ Even if he’s only telling the story in the broadest strokes, it’s still something vulnerable. It shows the most as his casual smile softens. Hugo may be someone that smiles more often than not, but they’re also so often masks. It’s pleasant armor. No one needs to know what lurks underneath.

But he likes Gregor. Or, more importantly… With what he’d shared the last time they had drank wine and spoke of difficult things, there seem to be things that he could understand. The circumstances couldn’t be more different, he’s sure, but they didn’t necessarily have to be. It was just the feelings they invoked.

So, he lets the mask slip. Just a little. Just enough to show a little sadness in his eyes. ]

Spoken like someone that understands it well. And thank you for that.

[ And there’s gentle sympathy in his tone for that too. As difficult as his life may have been, he does think Gregor’s must have been harder. Not only for the harshness of a world where cars eat people, but for a world where it’s novel that someone would touch his arm without disgust. ]

Well, luckily or not, I don’t think numbing myself is possible, at least. What can I say? I’m cursed with a sensitive soul. [ Then, with a huff of a laugh: ] Mine, obviously, not my needy little parasite of one.

That's not a curse, bud, trust me on that.

[even if he knows it's probably at least half joking, it feels necessary to say anyway.

he's not the touchiest of people, generally, but between their imprint and the hint of sadness in his eyes, that softer smile and the tone of his voice-- the impulse to reach out barely registers. he doesn't recall shifting his glass, even. one minute it's in hand, and the next he's using the sticky filaments on his insect arm to hold it instead, his human hand's fingers laced with hugo's.

better. that feels better, chilly or not; hell if he's going to let his plant's preferences for light and heat keep him from it.]

Not trying harder to numb it... something like that's still a choice. I'd know. And that passenger of yours doesn't make that any different, whatever you have to do to keep it satisfied.

[there are worse parasites. people who make themselves into one.]

[ The fact that Gregor reaches out is a surprise. Enough so that Hugo’s hand flinches very lightly under his own, like he might pull away, but it’s more reflexive than anything else. He does hesitate for a moment, but his hand relaxes and his fingers curl over Gregor’s knuckles in turn.

This closeness seems so muddy every time. Is the comfort he feels his? Or is it just an echo of the imprint? It’s probably something he should just let go unexamined, because the very question is like anathema to the warmth, but it’s difficult. ]

Maybe wine isn’t our drink of choice. We’re two for two on getting into difficult things, aren’t we?

[ He runs his thumb along Gregor’s skin gently, a warmer mirror of the gesture of worrying against his wine glass. ]

But I do worry about it, you know. I don’t know if it’s the same for the other types of Souls, but mine feels terribly opinionated. [ No, he’s being light again. That’s not what he wants to get at, so he rephrases. ] It’s angry. Resentful. I get the sense if I don’t keep it satisfied, then it’ll just take that matter into its own hands.

[ And it whispers at him to just lie, but he feels like trading one cowardice for another. It’s not fair to Gregor, and he knows that. It’s especially not fair because if he balks, surely he’d have to find somewhere else to stay, right?

But he’ll know how much of his is real—truly their own rather than some twisted, forced bonding. Selfishly, he thinks he needs that distinction. ]

I’m not a blood drinker. I’m simply a murderer. It’s killing that satisfies it.

... like it'll lash out whether you want it to or not. I get you.

[he murmurs in response to hugo's description of his soul. his terra soul isn't like that, but-- he knows the feeling, regardless.

and when hugo admits to his soul's needs... he doesn't release his hold on his hand, though he's quiet for a few moments himself. it's not hard to decide what he wants to say, it's just that he's worried he won't sound serious-- but how else can he put something like this?

...he's just going to have to be out with it first and go from there.]

That doesn't change what I said, y'know. About helping you out if you need it. Sure, neither of us is gonna enjoy it, but I've died worse ways before.

[this is certainly going to need more explanation, isn't it.]

See, Manager Bud, they can pull me back, and we might've already had to put that to the test here, so hey-- at least we know it works? [hurriedly continuing on as if he didn't just offer to die for him AND casually admit to dying after coming here:] You'd just need to call 'em over. Or drag me to 'em, whatever's quicker.

[ Hugo expects the worst. Of course he does, because it’s the reasonable reaction, right? Gregor may be used to death too, just by mention of being a soldier (and the bus), but it’s different when it’s what Hugo is confessing to here, surely. Even if Gregor doesn’t get up and leave in disgust, he’s sure to view Hugo differently.

(That’s the part that’s unfair. Even confessing this is a test of sorts, because if Gregor walks away, it’s easier for Hugo to steel his heart. It’s fitting, considering the part of their conversation about growing numb.)

So, naturally. Gregor’s response is a surprise. There’s the simple part, the fact that he’s met with understanding, the fact that Gregor doesn’t pull away, and that’s something meaningful. Enough so that he tries to stifle the way it makes him feel by looking down to their hands instead, but the way it continues? That’s much more of a surprise.

He can understand the kindness of this offer. The practicality of it, even, because if Dante can really do this, then maybe this is a way he could claw back some sense of ethics from the guilt that’s eating at him. And, yet. He swallow thickly, and he’s sure if he still had a heart, it would quickly start to hammer in his ears. ]

Gregor…

[ His mask slips more now, but it’s not to show softness. It’s still understated, but there’s concern that’s just a little too intense even for the worrying offer. There’s something personal here. ]

I can’t do that. Even if you can come back, I can’t… [ He grips Gregor’s hand a little more tightly, and he doesn’t seem to notice it. ] Please don’t die for my sake.

Hugo, hey-

[he... thinks he can read what might be behind the tighter grip, the focused concern that slips into hugo's voice. after all-

there's been something like that in his own tone before, albeit more pleading, and he reflexively gives hugo's hand a small squeeze. still here. still fine.]

...you don't have to take the offer either, yeah? I mean, I don't know how easily I could promise something like that, it's... obviously dying isn't always up to me, but trust me, I'm not the type of guy who likes throwing his life down whenever he can.

[it still hurts. it's still death. not to mention that he knows dante feels it, whenever they rewind the clock... but even without that, even with dying being all a part of the job now, he's hardly eager to go through it when it happens.]

[ The concern in Gregor’s voice in that tighter grip are exactly the anchor they’re meant to be. The brief panic that Hugo feels quickly dissipates. Or, rather, he forcibly pushes it down. It’s practically a visible effort, since there’s a brief moment where he closes his eyes, but his expression is one of mild frustration. He’s strict with himself and his feelings, and it’s something that Gregor is sure to be getting a better sense of now. ]

…My apologies. I didn’t mean for that to come out so sharply.

[ His hand relaxes again. Before coming here, he probably would have pulled his hand away, but the thought doesn’t even occur to him now. ]

I appreciate the offer, truly. You’re trying to offer a solution to this wretched problem.

[ He pauses for a moment and huffs out a heavy, thoughtful sigh. There’s a practicality to it that he can’t deny, and maybe it’s perhaps the most moral way to handle his wretched diet. Gregor’s death that doesn’t quite stick could be better than the lives that Hugo absolutely takes. But the sigh doesn’t come from that kind of brutal calculus. It’s the callous truth of the matter. ]

I simply couldn’t do it. We may not have known each other long, but I do care about you.

[ It’s the matching, implied statement that’s the problem. He doesn’t care about them. ]

Edited 2026-01-02 18:07 (UTC)

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cw: suicidal ideation (but like the casual ""practical"" kind)

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