[video] Nowadays it is only the unreadable that occurs

[depicted]

[Dorian posts from his Fire Sector suite, a transcription of some pages of books he found in the Emperor's library in hand. The transcription is, of course, in the local language, and that is why he speaks]

In the interest of actually being able to read anything useful we might come across, rather than puzzling over it like it's the Voynich manuscript, I thought it might be prudent to attempt to gather together the work of those of us who have been trying to crack the language. I know there are at least a few—if there are resources to be shared, then we may all make a bit more progress. [He has been working on this for some time, and it is audible in every stubborn syllable.] At the very least, it can't possibly hurt.

Comments

[depicted]

['The inexpressibility topos,' Dorian can't help but notice. It is a conversation of mourning.]

I sometimes hold it half a sin
To put in words the grief I feel;
For words, like Nature, half reveal
And half conceal the Soul within.

[When it comes to mourning, few elegists compare to Tennyson's masterwork. Dorian could not have thought of any other.]

I don't think he'd begrudge you the effort.

[virginprice]

--excuse me.

[Alcuin has to get away from the console, as close to graceless as he ever can be, nearly knocking the chair over. As open as he was, the verses hit hard.

The console stays on, but there is nothing in view of the camera besides the charming opposite wall for a good few minutes before he comes back, paler than before, but composed.]

I apologize. That was... lovely.

[depicted]

[Dorian doesn't notice the effect until the damage is done. Typical Dorian, really. But he is at least contrite when Alcuin returns.]

No, I'm sorry. I forgot how powerful a poet Tennyson could be.

[virginprice]

Some words have a way of reaching into your heart and tearing it apart. [He looks away.] Though mine was already broken enough.

[depicted]

[ Farewell, farewell the heart that lives alone,
Housed in a dream, at distance from the Kind!
Such happiness, wherever it be known,
Is to be pitied; for 'tis surely blind.]

[Yes. Dorian knows how words can tear into your heart. Even a heart as rotted as his.]

I hadn't meant to aggravate a wound.

[virginprice]

[Alcuin half-laughs, though it's more painful than one would usually hear from him.]

Waking up aggravates it, since I do it without him. If I were to try to remain unhurt, I would do nothing at all.

[depicted]

[Dorian's fingers, linked before him as if in prayer, press against his lips. He takes a moment before he speaks.]

I know. Anyone who tells you time will heal it has never known that agony. And anyone who tells you that sensation will cure the pain is simply wrong.

[Twenty years cured nothing, just compounded sorrows, and Dorian knows that everything he did to run away from pain only numbed wounds that still gape wide. He can give no comfort to Alcuin; he has no comforts for himself.]

If you ever want, I can record the rest of that Tennyson for you.

[virginprice]

[Dorian's words aren't quite what he expected. Platitudes are more common, but... somehow this helps, a little. To know that someone else has undergone the same pain and is apparently surviving, even if they're not the same.

Besides, he's always liked honesty. He sits quietly for a moment, then nods.]

Thank you. I feel like all I can do is learn to carry it so that it will not hold me back. I do not think it will grow lighter- I do not know if I want it to.

[He considers the offer, his lips pressed together.]

If you would. But not... not yet.

[depicted]

[Dorian's lids lower as he inclines his head.]

Of course. And if you do come up with a panegyric, I always enjoy poetry.

[Obliquely, offering Alcuin the chance to talk about it if he wants.]

[virginprice]

Yes... perhaps another time. I'm sorry, I didn't intend to- [He has no idea what to say. He didn't intend to be so dramatic, of course, or so upset. It just happened.]

I am grateful for your kind words.

[depicted]

[Dorian is just short of amused.] No apology needed. [Dorian is self-aware enough to know he has been far more dramatic over far less important things.] And I wasn't being kind.

[virginprice]

No, but sometimes honesty is a greater kindness than any words meant to comfort. [So, Dorian can just have his gratitude anyway.]

[depicted]

[Dorian is not going to dismiss the idea twice. Instead, he replies with half a smile.] We have pretty different philosophies, I think. I'll accept any kind of artifice, as long as it's beautiful. Honesty often acts an excuse for ugliness, at least where I'm from.

[Mark. He is thinking of you.]

[virginprice]

If honesty is used as an excuse, then is it truly honest? It veils the true purpose of the so-called honest one, and so it is a lie. [Alcuin sighs.]

It is not that I have anything against lies- I have surely known them too intimately to reject them. But honesty is... refreshing.

[depicted]

[Dorian himself isn't completely removed from that idea. There have been times, days and months—whole years, even—when all he has craved is some drop of honesty, some sense of real, and his searches have taken him across the world and through the social spheres, all the way down to those base pleasures and pains that best link humans to the society of their ancestors. When only the sordid, the vulgar, or the agonizing has seemed to truly exist.]

[However, he has lately come from a time and place that is far too honest, and for all his claims about enjoying the openness and freedom of the 21st century might be a little overstated.]

I'm guessing the part of D'Angeline culture you were involved in tended to prefer deception and double meaning.

[virginprice]

Anafiel was much involved in the intrigues surrounding the royal family, and thus my foster-sister and I were as well. Yes, there was deception enough to choke on.

[And he practiced it himself, quite faithfully- not lying in words as often as he did in practice... and since he lied very often with his tongue, it can be imagined that his whole life was a lie.]

[depicted]

[Dorian's distaste is audible.] Courtly machinations. No wonder you're happy for a little honesty. That isn't even fun. [Been there, done that, found it horrible and gross, never tried it again.]

[virginprice]

No, it wasn't. But it was what he needed to do. [And so Alcuin did it for and with him.]

[depicted]

It is, fortunately, a necessity no more. And the people here are, on a whole, very frank. [Super honesty is super weird.]

[virginprice]

I had noticed that. It's quite refreshing. [It is a little weird, but he's glad to be done with it.]