empathicfault | IC Inbox

[ Will notices Thrawn's attention to the surroundings- of course he does, it's the first thing Will does when in a new place. So he waits, and he'll be happy to repeat the question if needed-- but no, his new acquaintance has it.

The assessment has him smiling, amused. ]

I would say that's extremely accurate. Although from my perspective, I would have to sometimes replace 'exhilarating' with 'nauseating'. Here, come on through the living room, our painting area's in the back.

[ That has the added benefit of showing Thrawn more of their place. The living room, not entirely viewable from the entrance, is elegantly adorned, with brick walls, bookcases, and a large, comfortable couch. More notable are the display cases of weapons on either side of the barely-used fireplace. There's a long notch or hatch in the ceiling above it.

On the left wall are two large art pieces, in ornate frames.

The incongruity continues here, with comfortable throw blankets on the couch, some ratty-looking dog toys and beds, and- yep, there are the two dogs, curled up on the couch next to each other. Winston raises his head and thumps his tail against the couch a little. Will seems to automatically scratch his head and tell him quietly that he's a 'good boy'. ]

These are my dogs, Winston and Buster. I...you probably don't have dogs wherever you're from. But I'm sure you've seen them around. The Barge has a lot of them now.

[His eyes silently take in everything, already studying the two paintings with care as he passes them. The same painter did both, with a striking use of black pigments and haunted expressions. Thrawn eyes Will and then bends down to pet both dogs.]

I have. Solace and Elvis.

[Thrawn stands to move to the middle of the room, for a better view of the whole of it. The weapons warrant a closer inspection; they, too, are art.]

The other man who lives here. The two of you share a strain of...intense pathological disturbance. Woven into each other's lives so thoroughly that even from immensely different backgrounds and schools of thought, you've managed to find common ground in what the two of you hold dear.

[ Will doesn't exactly smile at the assessment, but he does look almost desperately fond. He stares at the floor for a moment, as if trying to hide a blush. ]

Yes. My partner is Malcolm Bright. This is his cabin, which I imagine you already knew. All the weapons are his.

[ The display cases are fully of weapons of a large variety types, clearly all from different eras and different civilizations. Nearly all of them are in excellent usable shape. The display cases themselves only use a simple lock, and- notably- neither of them are locked right now. There is a spot missing for a short, but very thin blade. ]

We've both been subject to mental and physical torture at the hands of serial killers. It's difficult to find people who understand what that does to you.

[this is cataloged with interest. Most people who display weapons don't go through the trouble of maintaining them to this caliber, or if they do, they certainly don't leave the doors unlocked.]

It would explain why you seem to be expecting trouble here.

[He says, gently opening and then closing the case door without taking anything.]

Strange that that could be read as a threat, but I'm not sensing hostility from you.

[ Will was lost in his thoughts for a moment, so he blinks with slight confusion. ]

Expecting troub-? Oh, because of the weapons? No, that's more of a hobby of Malcolm's. And both of us know that almost anything can be a weapon. Don't need a mace or a sword to kill someone.

[ He licks his lips for a moment. ]

There's no hostility, though. You're one of the most interesting people to come onto the Barge in a while. You're analytical and extremely observant. It seems like you're able to understand people from the outside in. I do the same, but it's more...from the inside out.

No, you don't.

[It does make things more efficient, but he has his suspicions about this pack he's been hearing about and acknowledges that there is more to Malcolm and Will than appears at first glance

He makes no outward movement at the word interesting, but Thrawn does blink once when Will describes himself in turn]

An enviable skill. I regret that I often categorize living beings into threats, allies, enemies, but I have never been able to understand them as they wish to be understood. One of my greater failings.

Understanding them doesn't make it all that much easier, trust me.

[ He says it wryly, then gestures to one corner of the large living room. There's light pouring in the window of a kitchen nook, and an easel poking out from behind a corner. The last stop on Will's inadvertent tour. ]

Most would prefer that you have the same level of understanding that they do, so they feel familiar with interacting with you. But people especially hate when I notice things they hadn't intended to reveal, sometimes even to themselves. I might've been well served by your categorization system. Even as an adult, I often didn't catch threats in time.

[ He walks over and onto the tarp laying on the floor. There are two easels next to each other, one with a rather juvenile-looking picture of a dog. The other is clearly Will's, as it has multiple canvases and a couple of sketchbooks next to it. The portrait on the easel is one he's been struggling with for awhile. The layered paint is still there, but there's a strong frustration to this one. Blues are all but banished from the man's 'face', with only a small hint of them left among the yellows and oranges. Streaks indicate Will putting his fingers into the wet paint and tugging.

Will lets out a sigh, seeing it's that one. ]

Most of my art, I don't really have a use for. It's just getting out all the emotions so I can organize them more easily.

[Thrawn isn't given much for overt emotional expression, but his eyes grow narrower and he's more stiff and cold when looking at this latest painting of Will: it's akin to him recoiling in horror.

Not terror - horror. A dread of seeing one's fate in immaculate detail.

He scans the painting again, to grow used to its presence if not the repulsion it evokes]

I understand.

[He's not an artist himself, but Thrawn likes to sit and observe art around him more than anything. It's akin to meditation. He glances back to Will, but doesn't ask who is in the painting. It's not anyone on the ship, clearly: anger and obsession so intermingled would be far more present in Will's day-to-day interactions. Suffice it to say he will not be borrowing this one any time soon, unless it's to meditate on his own enemies he has yet to annihilate]

....I believe I enjoy your true-to-life landscapes most of all.

[ Will gets ready to take that portrait down, but catches Thrawn's immediate reaction and stops for a moment. Honestly, he should have guessed this would be the reaction.

He lets a heavy breath out before carefully setting it aside, and pulling one of the landscapes he has out of the more dry paintings. A jet-black wolf with shining yellow eyes in a winter woods landscape, this time. The wolf has a thick winter fur coat, with occasional raven feathers sticking out of it. ]

I do paint these when I'm...doing better. The last one was the result of a particularly bad flood. The last threat I failed to catch in time.

[ He opens his mouth to elaborate, but just shuts it a few seconds later. He's not sure he could sum up everything about it without that frustration coming back ten-fold. So he just gestures to the one he got out. ]

I don't think there's other influences on this one. It's the rare painting of mine that's just me.

Edited (missed a sentence) 2024-08-14 19:42 (UTC)

If you paint to process your emotions - as evident here - then repressing them will do you no good. Even terrible failures and threats must be considered before one is to achieve peace.

[Thrawn replies, his features smoothing out a second or two later, back to normal. He won't ask Will to elaborate: it would feel like poking a raw wound]

So I see.

A magnificent creature in his element.

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