thedifferencebetween | Ryslig Inbox

"Yeah, Tim and me got matching handles. I'm H Jack sixty nine, he's Mr. Handsome sixty nine. The 'H' stands for Handsome. Because that's what they call me, for the obvious reason."

Steven literally just said it himself.

"So you seem pretty chill all things considered. Most newbies are all freaked out and panicky or cry a bunch."

Not Jack, but he had had...pressing distractions on his arrival that took all of his focus. There hadn't been much room for dealing with the whole situation.

"This isn't the first time I've been abducted to parts unknown and slowly turned into a monster," Steven says, taking a sip of his drink. "Honestly, it's better than the last time. I'm not being forced to do anything, I can go nearly anywhere in Ryslig, and I even have a clear time estimate for how long I'll be able to suck cock without any potential difficulties."

Look, he's not going to self-censor if they both know they're both here on the off-chance of getting some tail.

Edited 2020-06-07 00:49 (UTC)

"Ha, yeah, you never know what the hell you're gonna end up with. Right now shit's a little mixed up, a bunch of us are temporarily something else...I'm usually a robot, actually. And not one of those fully articulated ones, no, my friggin face doesn't move. I know dudes who ended up with two dicks or none at all! Monster biology's weird as shit!"

Jack takes a long drag from his cigarette, and the smoke plumes out the empty space at the bottom of his neck.

"So, ya know. Be prepared for the most fucked up puberty of your life."

Steven laughs. "God," he says. "As if puberty wasn't bad enough the first time. My junk didn't change last time I was taken, thankfully, but it could have. There's a woman I know in Los Angeles--goes by the name of Lin in our circles--who swears up and down that there was a man where she was kept before whose dick was a burning brand. I mean, she said he was serving as his Keeper's hearth, but still." He takes another drink. "Robots are cool, though. I mean, so's the whole 'walking dead man' schtick you've got going on now, but robots are cool."

"Basically none of what you just said means anything to me, but okay! And no, that wasn't an invitation to give me context, I don't care."

He got the important part, terrifying dicks. Which is mostly the part he cares about anyway.

"Yeah around here it's more growing an extra one or losing it or it just getting really weird shaped. Also cloacas. Cloacae? Inside bird junk, is what I mean. But yeah, I'm enjoying my brief anatomical respite to drink and smoke and all that kinda stuff I don't normally get to do. Plus this whole deal is pretty cool!"

Jack raises his hands...and they drift off of his wrists, looping around each other in the air like toy airplanes.

"I can do it with my head, too, but that really freaks people out."

Steven laughs in delight. "Holy shit," he says. "That's-- wow. That's definitely cool. I love it."

He takes another sip of his drink. "And yeah, that's what they call inside bird junk. I suppose the cat-people here get spikes on their dicks and the snake-people get double dicks too. And the marsupial people. Are there any marsupial people here? I met a koala guy once, at a conference. Never did get to see if he had double dicks." He shakes his head. "Doesn't matter, I guess.

"So do you come here often?"

'I dunno about cat dudes, I've only hooked up with a cat chick. Well...cat/bat/scorpion. God she was crazy in bed. Miss that lady. Snakes can get two, yup. I had a casual thing with a snake dude for like a year. Mers, too, I guess? Knew a mer dude who said he had two, anyway."

And Jack hasn't asked his current mer-friend, he does not think that dude would appreciate it.

"Dunno about marsupials. Never met one, but I haven't met every friggin monster running around. And yeah, me and my BFF used to come here all the time. Owner's used to me, doesn't care if I get wasted and bust up some furniture or accidentally set a fire, as long as I keep tipping him exorbitant amounts. And he keeps batteries on hand for when I'm a robot."

"I mean, I wouldn't expect you to have," Steven says. "I certainly haven't met everyone that's my kind running around back home, even if I'd met most of them in San Diego."

He knocks back the rest of his drink, then signals for another one.

"So what do robots get?" he asks, with a grin. "Is it detachable? Does it vibrate?"

"Doesn't seem to be standard, but honestly, there ain't many 'bots running around." And most of the others are or were kids, and Jack's not gonna ask a kid about their junk. That's messed up.

"And my robo dick is not up for discussion right now, on account of I don't have it right now. There's a slim chance I might let you ride the Handsome Jack tonight, and I'm not gonna get ya all worked up over an experience that isn't on the table."

He might hook up with the guy. He is pretty good looking, but...he's also still human. All fleshy and vital and organic. That...could actually present some problems, if Jack does decide to go for it.

Oh well, whatever, bridge to cross in the future if necessary.

Steven just looks amused at that statement. "You're assuming I'm interested in riding anyone tonight," he says. "I generally don't on a first encounter. Fucking, yes. Being fucked... that's if there's a repeat." He takes a sip of his new drink. "I'd blow you, though. If you're interested. It's been a while, but before my previous monster bullshit, it was a specialty of mine."

He smiles wickedly at Jack. "How about it, handsome? Want to get deep-throated in the alley out back?"

"You do realize 'riding' could easily refer to either in the context of that euphemism. And I dunno, I'm not even done with my drink, cool your jets."

Jack has options, after all, he's not going to just make a snap decision. Is he even in the mood for a BJ in an alley? He could just go home and do whatever the hell he wanted to Virgil, and in the comfort of his own luxurious bed. Plus Virgil would make him snacks after. Benefits of banging your house steward or whatever the fuck the dude was.

But...it's tempting. Aside from that one little possible issue.

"That aside...I did have a thought. See, you're human right now. And what I am right now? We kinda do awful things to humans when we touch them. I can't promise I wouldn't rot your face off. Or age you like twenty years, or make you experience waking nightmares for the next hour. All of those are possibilities."

"Sorry," Steven says, his cheeks darkening. "I suppose I was getting ahead of myself there. Just-- my usual friend with benefits back home won't let me get my mouth near his dick anymore. It's the whole teeth thing. I missed it, I guess."

He takes another sip of his drink.

"Is it just direct skin-to-skin contact?"

"I really don't know, it's not something I've messed around with too much. It's not like...immediate, it takes prolonged contact, but...just figured you oughtta be aware of all of that before you make any final calls about putting your mouth on my dick. You wanna have me slap on a raincoat and give it a go, that's up to you."

Assuming Jack does, indeed, decide to go through with it of course.

"I've got a sex buddy right now, real casual thing, but he's a vampire so it's not a thing with him. He's already dead and stuff."

Steven nods. "I'll keep that in mind. I did bring protection, if we decide to go through with it. If we don't..."

He shrugs. "You're an interesting guy. I can have a conversation with you. I wouldn't be against just-- hanging out. Having drinks." He eyes Jack thoughtfully. "Whatever else there is to do around here to have fun. So--what do zombie-ghosts eat, anyway?"

"Oh buddy, I'm an experience!" Jack grins, glad he can. His face might be maskless and marred, but it moves. He can convey his expressions. And honestly...the whole purple sparkly eridium glow spilling out of his face? Way neater than the old brand.

"I work at the labs, I'm head of the tech development department, which is pretty cool on its own. Plus I saved the whole place last year with a really sweet off the cuff idea. There's a pretty sweet theater here in town, they got all kinds of shows. Sexy and not, something for everybody. There's a spider dude that sexy dances, I kid you not. Or there was, I dunno, I haven't been in a while. As for what I eat...honestly not much."

He waves his disembodied hand through the open space between his neck and chest.

"Lots of liquids. On the other hand...you wanna talk pretty awesome blow job skills...." He waves his hand through the open space again, thumb pointed upwards and eyebrow raised lewdly.

Steven laughs. "I believe you," he says, leaning a bit forward against the table. "If we decide to go with this, maybe we could trade one blowjob for another—because I am into what you're suggesting. I mean, I've trusted condoms to keep me alive so far--I might as well trust them that much further."

But then he shakes his head and takes another sip of his drink. "Is that the Typhon Theatre? I met one of the bouncers after I washed ashore. Angela, I think her name was. I did say I'd go--maybe I'll get lucky and it'll be when the spider guy's there. Which labs? Are you a programmer or an engineer?" Please don't let him just be middle management. He does kind of remind Steven of the Silicon Valley assholes his dad worked for, although not completely in a bad way.

Edited 2020-06-08 09:02 (UTC)

"Alright, alright, calm it down a little. There's a thing as over-eager, ya know." And Jack's not feeling that right now. He's got that. He honestly doesn't know what he's exactly in the mood for, really. Which is kind of weird, not something he can remember feeling in a while. But in the last month or so...

He's not sure he likes the deeper implications of that, so he's not going to think about it right now.

"....seriously? I'm a friggin zombie ghost that casually mentioned how I saved the world, and what you follow up with is asking me about the specifics of my job title? This is the bit of personal Jack info that is of most interest to you? Plus...I just told you I'm a department head. I run the whole friggin tech department."

As far as Jack is concerned, that should answer everything.

Steven's brown cheeks flush darker. "Right. Sorry." He shoves his fingers back through his hair, a nervous gesture. "My dad's in tech," he says, awkwardly. "Programming. I'm not, because I've never had a head for any coding more sophisticated than mark-up language, but I like that stuff? Even if I'm staring at it from the outside looking in. It doesn't matter. I guess I was... more asking what you did before you were promoted, but yeah. Doesn't matter."

Charley... Thorne had had a head for code. She'd been good at making things too. She could have been a programmer or an engineer or studied pathology like Tio Carlos had... why on Earth had she gone into the liberal arts? He'd never understand that, anymore than her getting into Berkeley and choosing instead to go to a CSU school less than twenty years old.

No. Fuck. He needed to stop thinking about her. Finally finding out how she died six years ago didn't make her any less dead, even now, days later. Especially now, days later. And all this-- delayed processing shit was messing with his ability to do social bullshit.

"How did you save the world?" he asks, a bit more subdued.

Edited 2020-06-21 00:05 (UTC)

"There ya go, that's the important question here." And way more exciting than anything Jack does on the job.

"So this place, obviously! is pretty fucked up. And some pretty fucked up shit goes down on kind of a regular basis. While back we had this virus or some shit, I dunno, magic bullcrap. But people were spontaneously combusting and blowing up and just basically making fire happen everywhere. Like...all the fuck over! It was nuts! And the only real way to deal with it was kill the infected, but good friggin luck getting close enough to do it. So I get my hands on a couple of those poison packs that exterminators use, with the spray guns? And I just so happen to know how to whip up poor man's liquid nitrogen in a garage. Which I do. Modify the sprayers so they shoot super friggin far, load up the packs with bootleg nitrogen and bam! Problem solved."

Jack's animated as he talks, hands drifting and waving all over, all grins and confident posture. Few things liven him up like talking about himself saving the day.

And in this case, he actually had.

Steven is staring at Jack like he's never seen anyone so impressive in his life as the lich before him. And honestly? He's not sure if he has.

"You built a freeze gun," he says, with a shaky little half-laugh. "My God. You built a freeze gun. I-- Holy shit, Jack. I-- Wow. That's. Wow."

It's too bad that he's probably scared Jack off by being over-eager because that? That is the sexiest goddamn thing that Steven Durante's ever heard.

"Cryo-gun. Or as close as you can make here with all the backwater, primitive technology. It wasn't hard or anything."

Not really. Just a little creative thinking and an hour or so of work.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I enjoy the awe, but that was nothing. Guessing you don't have much cool tech where you come from? God, so many assholes around here from the friggin stone ages."

Fuck but does he miss Rick.

"Not really," Steven says, his cheeks heating up. What is it about this guy that makes him want to-- Fuck, he doesn't know. Impress him? Find a way to persuade him that he's actually worth spending time with?

Because that's the thing. It's not that Steven doesn't still want to have sex with Jack, because he does, the guy really is handsome, that part of his name is actually pretty accurate--but more than that he... kind of just wants to hang out with him? Listen to him talk? Be his friend more than anything.

"I mean, the tech's better than most of what I've seen here, your cryo-gun aside, but. Um. Hm. I'm trying to think of what would make a good benchmark. I guess it might be that at-home hobbyist 3D printing's only become really common in maybe... maybe the last decade or so? Someone could definitely come up with your cryo-gun back home... the thing is finding someone with both the ability to and the mind to, I guess?"

Bombastus could have, Steven thinks, taking a long sip of his drink. From everything Charley had wrote about him in her private journal, he'd had both mind and ability. Those prototype spider robots they'd found clearing out the Brooklyn facility had been proof of that.

(Steven hates the old man, who was nothing short of directly responsible for Charley's death twice-over. But he'd also been brilliant in his twisted way and Steven could admit that, even if he still wished he could have staked the old man out on the roof before he'd ever thought to turn Steven's sister.)

He takes another long sip of his drink.

"I do like hearing about that," he admits. "Cool tech. Cool weaponry, especially. I mean, not that there's anything wrong with your classic handgun, don't get me wrong--it gets the job done--but it's more interesting when people get creative."

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i might have stolen that particular dick detail from the short-lived dwrp game 'changed'

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Super NSFW Dialogue

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WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, HANDSOME JACK. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 021.07.222.57 * H.Jack69 has joined 021.07.222.57 <USERNAME> First sentence of message. <BANNED USER> SCREENED MESSAGE. UNSCREEN? Y/N -- sample for when you ban someone <USERNAME> First sentence of message. <USERNAME>** First sentence of message.