JANUARY MINGLE | OPEN

[oneandmikleonly]

[It's a new year! Well, by the fragile construct of calendar time we're creating on this planet, anyway.

Here's a an open mingle for all your January needs! Are you trying to stalk our new alien stalkers back, or reach out to them, or fight them? Building? Exploring the biomes, for fun and/or to uncover more about our alien friends? Researching? Hugging URSULA? Raising Birdogs or getting involved with other wildlife? Making or breaking resolutions? OTHER? Whatever it is you're doing, you can put it here.

Don't forget to check the OOC plotting post to see what's going on and get involved with missions!]

Comments

[splinten]

[Why do people always ask him this? He blames capitalism.]

For the birddog eggs not to get ruined, and as a result upset a bunch of people who really care about their well-being.

[godstongue]

...

[ He sounds really kind for someone who joked about being motherless. (Even it's a joke she's still!!!! Just!!!!) ]

Right. [ God is she forever grateful that the eggs are there, giving her reason to pull her attention away. ] Anyway, I'm sure Chicken and Egg would appreciate that very much.

[splinten]

Oh my God are those their names.

[Things Dirk is: a loser. That was still Dirk's standard monotone but there was a rush to it which in him indicates a certain excited joy.]

[godstongue]

Yes...

[ She's responding with a very neutral tone. ]

Then we'll see who hatches first.

[splinten]

Holy shit that's hilarious.

[This is. The best thing he has ever. HE STILL HAS A MONOTONE but you know what, when he said he had no mother what he meant was he had no real physical interaction with humans for sixteen years so forgive him his lack of skill at emoting. He has to look at the eggs now?]

Which is which?

[godstongue]

[ Honestly no emotions are the best emotions. It means Erina can do the exact same thing and she's here for it. ]

That one is Egg. [ She points to the first egg on the far left.] This is Chicken. [ The middle. ] And I'm thinking of naming the last one Ham.

[splinten]

What's the reasoning behind Ham? My first thought was Green Eggs and. [Enlighten him on this most important of things.]

[godstongue]

[ She shrugs her shoulders. ]

It was between that or Mint, those were the first two I thought of. But then I realized... [ That Chicken and Egg were too good to pass up. ] But for a birdog I think it's cute.

[ A pause. ]

Who do you think will hatch first?

[splinten]

[Chicken and Egg are too good, and he approves.]

Do you want a scientific answer or a philosophical one.

[Why does he say this with a straight face WHY DOES HE MEAN IT]

[godstongue]

[ They probably have the same look on their face this is honestly so sad. ]

Philosophical.

[ ENTERTAIN HER, DIRK. ]

ROLLS UP SLEEVES

[splinten]

What comes first: the question or the answer? The obvious reply is that it varies from case to case, and often we find answers we did not think to ask. Yet, I would argue that while each answer comes with a corresponding question, not every question comes with an answer. There is a reason behind the colour of the sky, and so you must necessarily be able to ask why the sky is blue. There is a dinner expected at the end of the day, and so you must be able to ask what is for dinner. Information always allows for the corresponding pursuit of that information.

It isn't so simple with questions. What is irony? An answer can be formed. It can even be offered as definitive. But a complete response eludes the question as the question itself warps. The question grows with every piece of information added to the answer, engorging itself on what is meant to fed it and growing yet more ravenous with each bite. The question is a black hole. Yeah," says the question, "But I've still got room for more. Give me another bite of it," says the question. It is hungry as all hell. It is spewing out information when you hand it over. "Fucking Hawking radiation," says the question. "Just get yourself slidin' down that spacetime. Meet my event horizon. The world ain't ever gonna see you devoured." It is one endless fucker of a cosmological quandary.

So you've got to ask yourself. Which is the question, the chicken or the egg? Until the rhetorical irony hits you and you're stuck on your own metainquiry. You've done it. You tripped into the black hole. You are crossing into that singularity and all of history is playing out in front of you from just beyond where you can't reach. It's all questions now.

[All this delivered deadpan, off-the-cuff. Was it ironic? Did he mean It? Some questions cannot be answered]

[godstongue]

[ She honestly doesn't know what she's expecting but it's definitely not that. Somewhere between asking what is for dinner and the final sentence in his statement her eyes widen and they her expression doesn't falter even as he finishes.

He really did that. He really just did that. ]

...

[ Erina steers herself, features relaxing for a brief moment before her brows furrow. ]

You shouldn't curse. Even if you have an absurd ability in being able to do something like that on the spot, you shouldn't curse. Especially while the eggs are around, what if they heard you?

[splinten]

What's wrong with the children having the full range of the language at their disposal?

[Dirk cursed as a kid? It was fine]

[godstongue]

It simply isn't proper language to use around children!

[ No one used that sort of language around her? Ever? She probably learned about curse words from manga too what a dweeb. ]

Apologize to them.

[ Yes... apologize to the fucking eggs. ]

[splinten]

Have you considered that you should apologize for trying to manage the language they're allowed to know?

[this is dumb and he doesn't mean it at all]

[godstongue]

[ It's dumb but she's going to counter against it. ]

Do you argue this much with everyone you meet?

And it's not that they're not allowed to know it, it's simply too soon.

[splinten]

That depends on whether or not they bring up something to argue about.

[So. Sometimes, yes.]

When is it not too soon? I need an age-range on responsible language use here.

[godstongue]

How old are you? [ He's almost like Alice... like Alice if she had a monotone. This is awful. ] And twenty-five.

[ SHE'S JUST THROWING OUT A NUMBER. ]

[splinten]

Seventeen. Twenty-five in birddog years?

[Do birddogs even live to 25]

[godstongue]

[ wait he's older than her..... well anyway

i don't know a fucking thing my guy ]

Sure. Sounds reasonable, don't you agree?

[splinten]

Not really. Key developmental years are much earlier than that. The metaphorical twenties are a period when your eggs will be reasonably set in their linguistic ways. If you want them to actually have a choice, they need to be presented with their options at the earliest stage when they can be expected to choose for themselves.

[DIRK DOESN'T EVEN THINK HE'D BE A GOOD PARENT why is he doing this

he is bored, mostly]

[godstongue]

[ Dirk. ]

... Maybe I did that wrong. [ Probably because she has a serious expression at all times and so far she's actually been pretty damn serious. ] I was trying to make a joke, as one would call it. Sarcasm.

But it doesn't quite matter. I just wish for you to respect my decision not to use any foul language around the eggs I'm guarding, feel free to speak with no filter around someone else's.

[splinten]

That was the plan from the start.

[To respect her decision for her egg babies.

Why, Dirk, did you argue with her then.]

[godstongue]

Then why did you start an argument!?

You're just like someone I know back home!

[splinten]

It felt like something that shouldn't be left as an uncritical given.

[Or, Dirk is the Worst.]