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alwaysanotherrainbow · 5 years ago

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my boyfriend never texts first

Remus just wants to not be the first one to send a message every once in a while. That’s not too much to ask, right?

relationship: romantic remrom, background remy and emile (also romantic)

warnings: major character death, extended mourning (secondary warnings- brief discussion of religious holidays, brief underage drinking mention, a lot of all-caps) notes: unrelated, human, hs/college au. virgil, emile, and remy are here too. If you need anything in the secondary warnings (or one of those latter three characters) edited out, please let me know and I can put that up for you!

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Remus always texted him first. Always. It didn’t matter the situation, didn’t matter the time date place name face. Who what when where why. It first started when he texted hi roman :) when they first got phones; for whatever reason, Roman just never texted first. Either he’d call or they’d talk in person.

No matter. Remus could cope.

May 1:

8:37 PM tody i saw you by my locker 8:39 PM *today 8:42 PM why didnt you say hi?

May 2:

9:30 PM a teacher talked to me today 9:30 PM wanted to talk about how i’m doing after 9:52 PM well you know. he’s a sick bastard

Really, it wasn’t too much to ask for, was it? He just wanted to see him text first once in a while! May 7:

3:32 PM: by the way idk if you got this last time 3:36 PM: my class ring size is the medium 3:44 PM: hopefully you order it by the deadline :P 4:03 PM: no idea when the deadline is 4:20 PM: bLAZE IT 4:24 PM: sorry i have like 0 money so i got it from the consignment shop 4:31 PM: i hope you like synthetic rubies!! leaving them with ur dad 10:40 PM: update. i cried for four hours with your dad.

June 2:

7:30 AM: gRaDuAtIoN dAy!!! 7:32 AM: there’s cookies in the reception menu 7:35 AM: snickerdoodles your favorite [eyes] 10:02 AM: i’m getting some for u 10:05 AM: [kissy face] 7:40 PM: the announcement was Weird 7:43 PM: anyways i have the snickerdoodles (Remus couldn’t go over to where Roman was staying, so he left them in the living room. He knew Roman would appreciate them. Hopefully he’d come over (wait, probably not, given...))

Well, actually, he could understand why he never texted first. June 11:

12:14 PM: roMAN 12:16 PM: [Attachment: Remus_Picani-Kleitman_Acceptance_Letter.pdf] 12:18 PM: YEAHHHH 12:24 PM: I’m sure you got in too SEND ME YOURS WHEN YOU GET IT 12:32 PM: WE MIGHT SHARE A ROOM YEA 12:35 PM: [Attachment: celebration.jpg]

Everyone was probably saying that he ought to just move on, but to be honest, he couldn’t... Actually, to be honest, no-one had told him to move on to his face yet. In fact, everyone was surprised he was doing so well, given how bad the circumstances were! The situation was stressing him out so much, even his dads were gently advising him to rethink things. (Well, that was part of the territory with one of them being a therapist and the other being a barista.)

“I got y’all some kouign-amann from the cafe,” said Dad, putting it down on the counter. His shirt had SLEEP scrawled on it with a Sharpie; it was the one that Remus had made for him as a joke. He still wore it. Huh.

“Sweetie, what’s a queen amahn?” asked Papa.

“It’s a... er, it’s like a... this is kinda like a croissant that had dreams of a muffin tin and salted caramel. One for you, babe.... then one for Doodlebug-”

“Can I leave some for Roman?” asked Remus.

They exchanged a glance.

“Of course you can,” said Papa with a smile. “Your candle’s on the table. Also, I got the news about being accepted into university? Good job, kiddo. You know, that was your father’s alma mater.”

“Are you sure you want to go to school right away after...? No problem taking a gap year.”

Papa glared at Dad. “Be nice.”

“I’m sorry, Remus, it’s just...” Dad put down his coffee. “If you’re not ready, if you need more time-”

"I’m sure,” said Remus with a grin, trying to get rid of what he just remembered. “Trust me.”

“Please find a good way to put away the snickerdoodles, they’ve been there since last week!” shouted Papa.

June 12:

12:12 AM: its twelve twelve make a wish 12:15 AM: hey when does your phone bill go out? 12:20 AM: im just saying that would Explain some things 12:22 AM: i know your dad pays Everything like a year in advance 12:34 AM: tell him i say hi 12:34 AM: 12:34 MAKE A WISH

July 12:

3:30 PM: guess who’s a double major in bio and theatre!! 3:32 PM: marine biology babey 3:53 PM: it’s good for the SOUL 4:04 PM: this cute octopus reminded me of you by the way 4:10 PM: [Attachment: for_roman]

August 14:

6:24 PM: moving in is the Worst 6:32 PM: by the way i got a single 6:35 PM: no roommates 6:41 PM: still have the bunk tho 6:44 PM: also got ur favorite pillo

August 30:

2:12 AM: roman it is like two o’clock in the morning what the Heck are you doing here, 2:15 AM: if u see me wave Hi 2:32 AM: ok >:c 2:42 AM: dont mind Me just studyin on top of the planetarium 3:15 AM: tbh i didn’t even know we go to the same campus? haven’t seen you around or anything 3:17 AM: shit phones gonna di

September 28:

2:20 PM: i failed my test 2:22 PM: idk what to d 2:24 PM: *do

September 29: 7:30 PM: remember that octopus you gave me that eats negative emotions? 7:32 PM: it works!!

October 3:

1:10 PM: You’d like the theatre program, really 1:15 PM: just so u know they’ve listed your name as an ‘honorary member of the class of’ 1:19 PM: that’s really nice of them. idk if your dad knows

October 23:

9:45 AM: i had to explain one of our inside jokes 8( 9:52 AM: i can’t Explain the deodorant thing that was One Time 9:55 AM: also why i’m called The Duke 9:56 AM: its bc you said it. not my fault 9:58 AM: its still cute pls call me that still 9:59 AM: pancake brunch pancake brunch pancake brunch October 31: 6:12 PM: sun’s down! joyous samhain 6:15 PM: i remember when you sewed me that octopus btw, the one that eats ucky feelings 6:19 PM: how long did it take you to get the laurel sachet into it?? 6:34 PM: also thank you thank you thank you for helping me find a friendly church to celebrate all saints day 6:47 PM: that year was a NIGHTMARE because you forgot to get your white candles and carnelian, and i forgot my holy water, so we were driving around town like Madmen 6:59 PM: it was worth it though 7:03 PM: i left you a script, i think you’ll like it.

November 9:

11:19 PM: i miss you so so much.

November 10:

12:20 AM: ignor this i drank like 12:24 AM: a lot 1:15 AM: i’m sorry i should’ve been with you 1:22 AM: i shouldve been there With You. 1:45 AM: but i wasn’t 2:20 AM: i didn’t know thered be a 4:11 PM: shit i just saw these. Sorry to bother you December 2:

10:10 AM: hey roman, been a bit. yea sorry about last time. too much of the Alcohol 10:13 AM: gonna go over to my parents’ house 1:00 PM: if you wanna come over, you can. dad’s making snickerdoodles and papa’s gonna watch atla (yes i still have that dvd you got me do not @ me it’s with your candles on your table just like everything else) 1:03 PM: that was on the dot, i’m happy.

December 21

8:34 AM: hey, it’s snowing 9:13 AM: couldn’t help leaving you some hot cocoa. and snickerdoodles of course 10:12 AM: i love you Remus went to go help his dads with making breakfast, but by the time everyone was done cleaning and they had finished watching some shitty Hallmark movie, he remembered that he had left his phone upstairs. Going upstairs and looking at it, he felt something in him break.

[2 Unread: Roman <3, bf’s dad]

10:22 AM, Roman <3: Why are you texting this number? 11:15 AM, bf’s dad: Remus, disregard that last, I’m so sorry. I just found his phone and I saw only the recent message first

The phone started ringing. Remus answered it as quickly as he could.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Sanders I didn’t know that someone was actually getting these messages I thought the line was out,” he said within a few seconds before the person on the other side sighed.

“No, it’s quite all right. And Virgil’s all right, by the way, if you prefer. I... I was just looking through his things for the first time. You know, it being a holiday and all... Memories, things like that.”

“Yeah, I understand.”

“I just turned the phone back on, I’m getting a lot of messages.”

“Oh.” Remus stared at the wall, trying to come to terms with everything. “Well, I--”

“I’m not going to stop paying for his phone. I’m sorry, I just... I still have his voicemails on it, and I can’t stand the thought of it going offline either.”

“Right, I... I listen to it too.”

“I happened upon the last one he sent to you.”

“You looked at the messages?”

“I only looked over when I stopped getting new ones, but I saw the last question he sent you. For your ring size.”

“Yeah? He asked my ring size so that he could--”

“There’s no easy way to say this, but.. I found something of his. Can you come over?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t, but can you please tell me what it was? Please?”

“I really think I should tell you this in person.”

“Please, Mr. Sanders. Please, I... I can’t manage that.”

He sighed. “All right, Remus. I found an early acceptance letter to SJAU, and... and a ringbox.”

Remus felt his grasp on the phone grow weak. It fell onto the bed, Mr. Sanders’ voice still clear.

“I think he was going to ask for you to....”

“No, we... We were just out of high school, I-- that doesn’t make sense.”

“He always was one for those romantic gestures. There’s some poems here, too. A life-plan. I’m not sure exactly what malacology is, but--”

“Mollusks. Like octopi and squids.. Sorry for cutting you off, what was that?”

“Some of it’s in your handwriting, but one of the entries is ‘ask him’, for the day after... you know.”

God, he could hear his sad smile through the phone. He knew exactly how Mr. Sanders looked right now just talking to him, probably wearing that hoodie that was too big on him, in a dusty room full of things that used to belong to the most vibrant person that Remus had ever met.

But then Roman had died.

He was the most wonderful person, and he had just died.

“I’ll come over to deliver the ring to you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s... that’s fine. Uh, call my dads first, though. They’re still not convinced I’m doing okay.”

“I understand. I’ll talk to you later, Remus.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sanders.”

The line went dead in his hands.

Remus held himself and wept.

December 28:

12:30 PM, Remus Picani-Kleitman: Mr. Sanders, would you like to come over for our New Year’s party? 12:34 PM, Remus Picani-Kleitman: It’s a tradition we had. You don’t have to if you’d rather not. 12:45 PM, Virgil Sanders: I’d love to go.

January 1:

12:00 AM: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!! 12:05 AM: [Attachment: :)] 12:07 AM: we are all smiling in this photo and for that i think we deserve a hug. 12:10 AM: this rings the most beuatifl thing i’ve ever fuckign seen. thank you,, 12:14 AM: never gonna get rid of it <3 12:16 AM: it looks Good on my finger 12:30 AM: jsyk your dad’s asking my dads for the kouign amann recipe 12:32 AM: thats a pastry, i left those for u a while back 12:39 AM: okay i’m crying a bit but honestly, i love u 12:44 AM: I love you so so so much, Roman

Somewhere out there, whether it was from some wonderful paradise or beyond the veil or even only in wishful thoughts, Remus knew that someone was saying I love you too.

#remrom #remrom writing #my fics

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icharchivist · 7 years ago

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New session with A. and T. o/ this time from episode 92 to episode 105, we advanced a lot in the CA arc!

this time I took notes as they spoke so I have... Tons of stuff.

-A: “I’m scared to move on…. we’re at episode 91 and the arc already went to shit so bad i’m worried at how bad it’ll get”

-they forgot who kite was. they had to remember by saying “guitarist legolass”

-T: “The queen shouldn’t be proud of the King i mean it’s a fuckboi, look at that turtle on his head, it’s the shape for a a fuckboi”

-A: “Leol looks like a drummer in Kite’s band”

-A: “I wonder if it would have gone better with responsible adults” Me: “i think that’s why Leorio and Kurapika aren’t there. wait… maybe not Pika.” A: “i love Pika but he’s not what I’d call collected and responsible. Leorio tho...” -T: “I’m sure Hisoka would have flirted with an ant if he could. or ate one. its like chicken”

-they say they have no pity for the queen ahah. They are WTF over the other baby.

-they got so sad at Gon and Killua crying

-T: “Why is there pipe on a strip tease” A: “there’s a cat a butterfly and a turtle trying to dominate the world and you question the choice of music?”

-A: “It gets so bad already and there’s still 30 episodes of that arc how bad can it gets…”

-A: “the only responsible adult of that arc is Killua and he’s neither an adult nor responsible”

-When Gon said he’d do anything for Palm after she said she wanted him to date her, T. spit out his drink and A. facepalmed in a pillow, both laughing “i cant deal with that kid anymore”

-A: “does Palm has any other ability aside of being creepy?”

-A: “the thing with Gon is that you never know if his ideas are genuis or terrible” T: “you especially dont know when he says “it’s a secret” if he knows what hes gonna do or if he doesnt”

-When Killua asks Gon about his dating past: T. “that… became really gay suddenly” Me: “do you get why people say Killua is gay?” A: “Now yes.”

-A: “The presentator on tv has weird eyes…” T: “now she can see in 3D”

-A. at Palm and Gon’s date: “i relate to Killua… what a cringe…”

-T. at the date: “and let’s play my favorite game: what if we added hisoka to the situation?” A.: “im sure him and Palm would get along”

-they yelled at Killua remembering Illumi because of dissociation. they’re worried for him

-A., who loves classical ballets, told us that the Zoldyck’s theme is based on a romeo and juliet music

-A.: “When the zoldyck music plays, it always end up bad for the adversary…” T.: “It always end bad for everyone in that anime. except for Hisoka and Gon’s father. i dont even remember the name of that asshat.”

-After the date, as Killua and Gon shares Chcorobots, A: “Thats it i cant take it anymore i ship them. they are too cute i cant resist them”

-A, as Cheetu vs Morel and Knuckle starts: “this arc is such a mess i love it it goes so wrong”

-when gon was faced to Kite’s puppet , they started yelling about how no one was stopping him. when Gon started blaming himself, A. threw a hairtie to the screen in frustration. they are worrying for Gon now, feels like he’s losing it. they worry that the adults are using him. like they say “i dont care their reasoning, we’re talking about 12yo. they never saw what gon can do while angry he risked his life on a dodgeball game. it’s dangerous.”

-A: “dont tell me they will put rhe two unexperienced kids as a team…”

-They are overjoyed to see the Troupe again. A. wanted a showdown between the ants and the troupe. “at least i wont mind if there’s death on both side”

-They are disgusted by Pike and they dont get why Zazan is all dominatrix.

-“the goth team and the clear hair team”

-A: “i understand why you say Shalnark is probably linked to Kurapika, they have the same (lack of) survival instinct”

-T: “nice to have some anthropology exploration with that mummy guy" about Beleonov

-A: “wait is Phinks’s condition really to only turn his wrist? he didnt think too hard about it, and Pika whos putting his life on the line like a moron….”

-A: “im sure kite’s nen was Ging’s idea. it’s a thing with Ging’s idea, it seems terrible and you dont even know if he would himself believe it’d work but it does”

-Feitan against Zazan: “thats violent…”

-A: i dont know what to think of that arc anymore. i dont even know what to comment.

-about Kalluto: “it’s killua’s LITTLE BROTHER??? HOW OLD IS HE. 10??? WHY IS HE WITH THE TROUPE”

-“are Feitan and the Mummy in a contest of who is gonna blow up the biggest planet”

-*seeing the kimera* “is that nina”

-A when Phinks blushes when Shal and Feitan makes fun of him for looking for Chrollo: “do everyone has a crush on Chrollo holy fuck”

-T: “When it’s to the spiders to be in charge of lifting the weight of the arc….” A: well we wanted responsible adults, we got them”

-A. finds impressive how that deep ib the arc, the story is still coherent. the ants are all exploited and you dont feel lost in the substories. she finds it impressive

-Me: “fun to have a geopolitic story in a furry arc” A: “i wonder what the next arcs will be. will there be a cooking arc” Me: “i mean, isnt it the cooking arc? “ A: *splilling her drink*”… you know what i dont say anything anymore”

-A:“… was the Queen on drugs when she created Shaiapouf?”

-A: “i think i hate (pitou) more than hisoka…. i mean hisoka, you get used to him. she…. is too unsettling and sh’es too cute it makes me uncomfortable” T: “well i mean… hisoka is a p/edophile…” A: “i mean true but at least you can predict hidoka, she replies to orders. you can discuss with Hisoka, not with her. Like how Pika talked with him” Me: “well then with Pika it was all on Hisoka’s intend...” T: “well you can discuss with him if you’re a teen” A: “Okay true but you can have an ally with hisoka at times. with Pitou, nah”

-T “now i thought hisoka was coming” Me:“if he was in this arc he would have had the boner of the century” T: “thanks Chloé”

-when Gon trusted Meleoron right away “what the fuck with that kid. me too Meleoron”

-when Ikalgo appeared in that first corpse and started singing, T started laughing and loving him and almost spilled his drink, and A. burried her face in a pillow saying “i dont even know what to say anymore…”

-as Killua catches ikalgo: A-: i love this kid T: me i love this octopus omg

-as Ikalgo says he wanted to be a squid: A: “how can it be that fun, that wtf and that tragic at once?”

-T: i really love that octopus A: i really love that kid

-T is determinates and really really love the octopus :’)

-the darts game started and A . started to pull very worried faces

-When Gon says he will kill Meleoron if he betrays him, A:“this kid really scares me…. he always scared me.”

-they’re cheering as Killua won against the orsos bros and faked his death

-turns out T. plays darts too so as Killua was explaining how he survived, he kept figuring how it made sense

-they were tense as Killua almost died and they both left out a gasp as Killua apologized about not being of use for gon

-they adore Ikalgo, both of them and now they worry he’ll die

-A. keeps reading Meleoron as Melanchon, a french politician she doesnt like. we compared that politician to Leol

-A. saw Komugi and gasped because “oh no i saw her on your blog”. I’ve been yelling at her to stop looking at my blog and her reaction was “but I’d have to stop using tumblr!”. rood.

-T.’s mother walked in after a scene with Meleoron and with the King and she started laughing, not understanding what was going on, just surprised by the designs. she finds the plot about the games to be fun ahah

-Morel just told Cheetu he lost because hes an idiot and they both applauded

-at the King trying to destabilize Komugi and failing T: “well it’s turning against him hes getting destabilized” A: “she controls him so much”

-When the King ripped his own arm, they both gasped and A. froze and yelled “WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED”

-A: “the king is acting reckless and hurts himself… sounds so much like Gon.”

-A loves how Komugi is in total control of the King ahah

-Me at the king's arm being ripped: "hxh and the constant abuse of arms". A. "ye i saw your posts about it. im still baffled by how much of them belongs to Gon"

For the most part, they seemed to like it! A. Kept repeating it was such a mess and she loved how much of a mess it was. It was getting worse and worse and they are seriously getting worried about the situation at hand.

They are really, really involved in the arc and I’m so glad. For a lot of people I dragged in hxh (and.. me included to some extend) the ca arc was the hardest to get into, and I’m really glad they’re enjoying it that much.

They are looking forward for more and are impressed to have gone this far in the serie.

Despite the fact we skip opening/ending/previews (not my own will, they really don’t wanna see them dkjfhd shame for the previews but oh well) they keep singing the opening theme too. That’s fun :’D

So ye, a good session, a ton of fun, they liked it :D

See you all in another session o/

#ichablogging hxh2011 #ichatalks about hxh #:'DD another session and this time a tone of notes yay

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lenin-it-to-win-it · 8 years ago

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“Who knows in the end? What has risen may sink, and what has sunk may rise”

Summary: When Lovecraft decides to take care of Chuuya once he is abandoned by Dazai after using Corruption, Chuuya is touched by Lovecraft’s kindness and starts feeling things he thought he had lost the ability to feel

Notes: rarepair week day four! ahhh i actually really love chuucraft u guys, dont ask how or why, and I’d love to someday see more content about them! in the meantime, here’s a really sweet fic about chuuya learning to love a good soft squid and i hope you enjoy it!

*****************************************************************************************************

Chuuya woke up on a couch in an unfamiliar room covered in a soft, thick blanket the color of sea foam. When Chuuya tried to sit up, he was nearly blacked out and collapsed back onto the couch with a searing migraine, unable to hold back a cry of pain. For a while, the pain was so strong he could hardly see straight; everything seemed to bend, to blur, to fade away until nothing was left but the burning agony infesting each of his body’s cells. Even breathing was difficult, and it felt as if his throat and lungs were being scraped raw with every breath. A dull sound, somewhere between buzzing and ringing, infested his ears. At first, Chuuya wondered where the sound could be coming from, but he quickly realized it was in his head.

Corruption.

Even thinking the word made Chuuya sick, made the hot, acid taste of blood in his mouth feel stronger than it had before, made the gentle sunlight trickling in through an open window seem sharp as dagger blades piercing his eyes. Chuuya closed his eyes and rolled over, biting his lip to brace himself against the fresh wave of pain, and buried his face in the couch. It had been years since he had used Corruption; Chuuya couldn’t remember if the pain had always been so terrible or if he simply wasn’t used to it after all the time that had passed.

Or maybe the pain gets worse the more I use it, and I only have a certain number of uses before I fall apart. . .

Chuuya was distracted from his thoughts when a limp, fleshy appendage gently tapped his shoulder. “Awake yet?” asked someone with a low, monotonous voice. “Or screaming in your sleep again?” Chuuya heard them sigh. “You’re very loud. It makes it hard for me to sleep. If I had known you would be so troublesome, I would not have brought you here.”

“Dazai?” Chuuya whispered. The voice did not sound anything like his, nor did the thing that had touched his shoulder resemble Dazai’s hideous, bony, absurdly long fingers, but for all he knew, that bandaged bastard could be playing some sort of prank on him.

“Lovecraft.”

Lovecraft? The octopus? Isn’t he supposed to be dead?!

“What are you doing with me?” Chuuya croaked, trying his best to sound as threatening as he could while wrapped up in a fluffy blanket, unable to do so much as sit up without collapsing in pain. With great effort, Chuuya managed to roll over so he could glare at Lovecraft. “I beat you once, and I can do it again.”

Lovecraft blinked slowly. “Wouldn’t you need your partner for that?”

“Dazai is not my partner!” Chuuya snapped, angry enough to ignore the sharp stab of pain in his head. “And sure I as fuck don’t need his help to kick your ass!”

Lovecraft tilted his head so far to the side that it was resting on his shoulder, extending his bony neck. “Why do you want to fight? Aren’t you tired?”

Chuuya spit in Lovecraft’s direction, but, weak as he was, only managed to get drool on his chin. “Fuck you, bitch,” he hissed. “I’m never too tired to fight.” A wave of naseau struck, and Chuuya couldn’t suppress a groan. “I’ll make you into calamari,” he threatened in a breathless whisper. “I’ll chew you up and spit you out.”

“There’s no need to be rude.” Lovecraft sounded almost hurt. “I only brought you here so you could rest. You seemed so tired after blowing me up, and then your partner-” Lovecraft cut himself off. “Your. . . not your partner. . . left you behind.”

“So you captured me?” Chuuya forced himself to sit up, biting his lip to keep from crying out. “The mafia will come for me,” he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “I’m one of their executives- they wouldn’t just let you take me without a fight!”

But they probably wouldn’t suspect I’m in any danger since you were technically defeated. Maybe they’re expecting me to handle this on my own?

Chuuya closed his eyes. Despite all his posturing, if it really did come to a fight, there was next to no chance of victory. “I’ll never help you,” he murmured. “Or the Guild. I’d rather use Corruption and wind up dead than betray the mafia.”

“You’re very dramatic.”

“I am not dramatic!” Chuuya shrieked dramatically, launching himself off the couch so he could fight Lovecraft. Instead, he landed in a heap at Lovecraft’s feet, whimpering in pain.

Lovecraft patted Chuuya’s head. “It is okay, small human,” he said, lifting Chuuya off the ground and gently depositing him on the couch. “I have no intention of keeping you prisoner- that would be so tiresome. You can leave whenever you want.”

Chuuya grunted. In his condition, he doubted he could make it out of the living room without passing out, let alone make it back to headquarters. Especially, as it just occurred to Chuuya, since he had no idea where he was. Sighing, Chuuya decided that the best thing he could do was cooperate with the squid-man until he was strong enough to put up a fight and hope Lovecraft didn’t murder him in his sleep.

Of course, if he wanted to do that, it’s not like he hasn’t had enough chances already. . .

Chuuya narrowed his eyes and examined Lovecraft’s dour face. “Why did you bring me here anyway, if you’re not trying to use me for something?”

“When I re-materialized my physical form, I tripped over you, and you stayed sound asleep.” Lovecraft almost smiled. “Anyone with that much dedication to sleeping has my eternal respect.”

Chuuya laughed, then groaned as his internal organs contracted. “I’ve been told I’m a heavy sleeper before,” he said when the pain faded a little. “But it’s never been much of a compliment.”

Lovecraft reached out and straightened a stray lock of Chuuya’s hair. “Your hair. . . it is very soft,” said Lovecraft, blushing. “I hope you know that is a compliment.”

Chuuya was too stunned to say anything as Lovecraft left the room. After a moment, he decided the best thing to do was get some rest, then make a break for it. He fell asleep almost instantly.

***

When Chuuya woke up, the sky had already grown dark and the only light in the room came from distant stars. The pain had lessened, became bearable, so Chuuya managed to stand up, gripping the edge of the couch for balance. When his head stopped spinning, Chuuuya saw Lovecraft sitting alone at a table in the dark, eating what appeared to be an entire salmon with his bare hands. When Lovecraft spotted Chuuya, he beckoned him over. “There is enough to share,” he said, holding up a chunk of fish. “I had thought you would be hungry after such a long nap.” Once Chuuya got closer, he realized that the fish was raw. “Dude, that’s just not right!” Chuuya exclaimed, scandalized. “Salmon like this needs to be pan-seared with lemon and served with a fine wine- you can’t just shove it in your mouth raw! What are you a fucking animal?” Chuuya took the plate away from Lovecraft and marched toward the kitchen. In the heat of the moment, Chuuya totally forgot about escaping and returning to the mafia; all his focus was on the fish.

Lovecraft trailed behind Chuuya, staring dolefully at the half-eaten fish. “Where are you taking our dinner?” he asked. “It’s good and fresh. Do you not like fish?”

“I don’t like raw fish,” Chuuya corrected, setting the fish down on the counter and digging through cupboards in search of a suitable pan. “And neither should you.” Eventually, Chuuya found a pan and began rooting through the fridge and pantry for other necessary ingredients. Much to his surprise, he had little to no difficulty finding what he was looking for; he had not expected the maniac who ate raw fish to have fresh lemons and an assortment of various spices.

As if reading Chuuya’s thoughts, Lovecraft replied, “Steinbeck does most of the grocery shopping. I just get the fish.”

Chuuya turned on the stove, then paused. “You live together?” Lovecraft shrugged. “More or less.”

“Oh.” Chuuya wasn’t sure why he could feel his cheeks flushing; maybe he was feverish after using corruption. He took his anger out on the fish, hacking it to pieces with his dagger and tearing out the bones. “Will he be, ah, joining us for dinner?” Chuuya asked in a calm, even tone he thought Kouyou would be proud of.

“I don’t think so,” Lovecraft replied, staring at the fish. “He tends to leave me alone for a day or so after I go into my true form. He knows it makes me tired.”

“Huh.” Chuuya threw the fish into the pan with a vengeance. “Sounds like a really considerate partner.” The fish hissed in the pan; Chuuya hissed back. He didn’t know whether he was jealous of Lovecraft’s partnership with Steinbeck or if he was jealous because what he had with Steinbeck was more than a partnership.

Why do I give a shit about this walking calamari, anyway?

Chuuya glanced over his shoulder and studied Lovecraft’s face. He was not especially handsome, but there was something to be said about his sharp cheekbones and fathomless eyes. His dark hair looked thick and soft, and it was probably long enough for Chuuya to use as a blanket. Still, it wasn’t his appearance that had Chuuya’s interest: it was his kindness.

Kindness was not a quality you were encouraged to cultivate in the mafia; kindness was a liability more often than not, something to get beaten out of you in the earliest days of training. Chuuya’s ribs still ached when he remembered how Mori had kicked him there after a failed mission where a much younger, softer Chuuya had been unable to bring himself to kill his target. In the present, an older, tougher Chuuya peered up into an alien, expressionless yet somehow kind face and felt his heart stir, almost as if the softer Chuuya had not been beaten out of him after all.

As Chuuya cooked the fish, he allowed his mind to wander, daydreaming about what life would be like if he and Lovecraft put the war between their organizations aside and stayed together in this strange little house together. Theirs would be a quiet life. They would cuddle on the couch beneath the gentle light of the stars and moon, maybe whispering, maybe silent. Chuuya would brush Lovecraft’s hair with remarkable patience until it all hung in a single unbroken silken sheet without so much as a single knot or tangle, and Lovecraft would pat Chuuya’s head. Chuuya would not mind when Lovecraft called him small so long as he said it with a trace of affection. Their life would be a peaceful one, and perhaps it was merely the after-effect of Corruption, but Chuuya felt as if something deep in his bones was crying out for peace.

When the fish was done, Chuuya neatly sliced it in half, put each half on a clean plate, and brought the plates to the table. “You eat every last bite of this and try and tell me it tastes better raw, I fuckin’ dare you,” said Chuuya, pointing his knife at Lovecraft in a mock-threatening gesture. “You’ll never want raw fish again.”

Lovecraft lowered his face to the plate and sniffed the fish. “It does smell nice,” he admitted. He was about to tear into the fish with his hands, but Chuuya handed him a fork and knife, blushing when their hands brushed.

“This way,” Chuuya said, demonstrating how to use silverware on his piece of fish.

Lovecraft copied him, opening his mouth at exactly the same time Chuuya did and popping a bite of fish into his mouth. His eyes widened as he swallowed. “This is. . . not like anything I have ever experienced.” Before Chuuya could ask for clarification, Lovecraft brought out his tentacles and began launching hunks of fish into his mouth so fast that his tentacles melted into a single grayish-green blur. Within seconds, his plate was polished clean.

Chuuya laughed. “That good, huh?”

Lovecraft nodded solemnly. “Very good.”

Chuuya glanced down at his plate, then up at Lovecraft’s hungry eyes, and pushed his plate of fish across the table. “You know what? You can have it,” he said, shrugging as if it was a totally casual gesture with no emotional meaning behind it whatsoever. “I’m not hungry.” Although it was true that his stomach was still upset after using Corruption and it would probably take another day before the sickness wore off entirely, Chuuya would have given Lovecraft his fish no matter what.

Something approximating joy came over Lovecraft’s expressionless face. “Thank you.” He tore into the fish with just as much voracity as before, and when he finished, Chuuya reached out and touched one of his tentacles.

Deep his heart, Chuuya could feel the hard edges of his mafia shell beginning to crumble away, sinking down into depths unknown, while bits and pieces of the softer Chuuya he had once been began to to ascend, like a sunken ship rising from a watery grave to sail beneath the silver moonlight once more.

“Thank you, octopus.”

#bungou stray dogs #chuucraft #rarepair week day four #here come dat fic o shit waddup

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alienvirals · 8 years ago

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Alien intelligence: the extraordinary minds of octopuses and other cephalopods

After a startling encounter with a cuttlefish, Australian philosopher Peter Godfrey-Smith set out to explore the mysterious lives of cephalopods. He was left asking: why do such smart creatures live such a short time?

Inches above the seafloor of Sydneys Cabbage Tree Bay, with the proximity made possible by several millimetres of neoprene and a scuba diving tank, Im just about eyeball to eyeball with this creature: an Australian giant cuttlefish.

Even allowing for the magnifying effects of the mask snug across my nose, it must be about 60cm (two feet) long, and the peculiarities that abound in the cephalopod family, that includes octopuses and squid, are the more striking writ so large.

Its body shaped around an internal surfboard-like shell, tailing off into a fistful of tentacles has the shifting colour of velvet in light, and its W-shaped pupils lend it a stern expression. I dont think Im imagining some recognition on its part. The question is, of what?

It was an encounter like this one at exactly the same place, actually, to the foot that first prompted Peter Godfrey-Smith to think about these most other of minds. An Australian academic philosopher, hed recently been appointed a professor at Harvard.

While snorkelling on a visit home to Sydney in about 2007, he came across a giant cuttlefish. The experience had a profound effect on him, establishing an unlikely framework for his own study of philosophy, first at Harvard and then the City University of New York.

The cuttlefish hadnt been afraid it had seemed as curious about him as he was about it. But to imagine cephalopods experience of the world as some iteration of our own may sell them short, given the many millions of years of separation between us nearly twice as many as with humans and any other vertebrate (mammal, bird or fish).

Elle Hunt with an Australian giant cuttlefish at Cabbage Tree Bay, Manly, Sydney. Photograph: Peter Godfrey-Smith

Cephalopods high-resolution camera eyes resemble our own, but we otherwise differ in every way. Octopuses in particular are peculiarly other. The majority of their 500m neurons are in their arms, which can not only touch but smell and taste they quite literally have minds of their own.

That it was possible to observe some kind of subjective experience, a sense of self, in cephalopods fascinated Godfrey-Smith. How that might differ to humans is the subject of his book Other Minds: The Octopus, The Sea and the Deep Origins of Consciousness, published this month by HarperCollins.

In it Godfrey-Smith charts his path through philosophical problems as guided by cephalopods in one case quite literally, when he recounts an octopus taking his collaborator by hand on a 10-minute tour to its den, as if he were being led across the sea floor by a very small eight-legged child.

Charming anecdotes like this abound in Godfrey-Smiths book, particularly about captive octopuses frustrating scientists attempts at observation.

A 1959 paper detailed an attempt at the Naples Zoological Station to teach three octopuses to pull and release a lever in exchange for food. Albert and Bertram performed in a reasonably consistent manner, but one named Charles tried to drag a light suspended above the water into the tank; squirted water at anyone who approached; and prematurely ended the experiment when he broke the lever.

Most aquariums that have attempted to keep octopuses have tales to tell of their great escapes even their overnight raids of neighbouring tanks for food. Godfrey-Smith writes of animals learning to turn off lights by directing jets of water at them, short-circuiting the power supply. Elsewhere octopuses have plugged their tanks outflow valves, causing them to overflow.

This apparent problem-solving ability has led cephalopods (particularly octopuses, because theyve been studied more than squid or cuttlefish) to be recognised as intelligent. Half a billion neurons put octopuses close to the range of dogs and their brains are large relative to their size, both of which offer biologists a rough guide to brainpower.

The coconut octopus is one of the few cephalopods known to exhibit the behaviour of using a tool. Photograph: Mike Veitch/Alamy

In captivity, they have learned to navigate simple mazes, solve puzzles and open screw-top jars, while wild animals have been observed stacking rocks to protect the entrances to their dens, and hiding themselves inside coconut shell halves.

But thats also reflective of their dexterity: an animal with fewer than eight legs may accomplish less but not necessarily because it is more stupid. Theres no one metric by which to measure intelligence some markers, such as tool use, were settled on simply because they were evident in humans.

I think its a mistake to look for a single, definitive thing, says Godfrey-Smith. Octopuses are pretty good at sophisticated kinds of learning, but how good its hard to say, in part because theyre so hard to experiment on. You get a small amount of animals in the lab and some of them refuse to do anything you want them to do theyre just too unruly.

He sees that curiosity and opportunism their mischief and craft, as a Roman natural historian put it in the third century AD as characteristic of octopus intelligence.

Their great escapes from captivity, too, reflect an awareness of their special circumstances and their ability to adapt to them. A 2010 experiment confirmed anecdotal reports that cephalopods are able to recognise and like or dislike individual humans, even those that are dressed identically.

It is no stretch to say they have personalities. But the inconsistencies of their behaviour, combined with their apparent intelligence, presents an obvious trap of anthropomorphism. Its tempting, admits Godfrey-Smith, to attribute their many enigmas to some clever, human-like explanation.

A paradox: octopuses have big brains and short life spans. Photograph: Peter Godfrey-Smith

Opinions of octopus intelligence consequently vary within the scientific community. A fundamental precept of animal psychology, coined by the 19th-century British psychologist C Lloyd Morgan, says no behaviour should be attributed to a sophisticated internal process if it can be explained by a simpler one.

That is indicative of a general preference for simplicity of hypotheses in science, says Godfrey-Smith, that as a philosopher he is not convinced by. But scientific research across the board has become more outcome-driven as a result of the cycle of funding and publishing, and he is in the privileged position of being able to ask open-ended questions.

Thats a great luxury, to be able to roam around year after year, putting pieces together very slowly.

That process, set in motion by his chance encounter with a cuttlefish a decade ago, is ongoing. Now back based in Australia, lecturing at the University of Sydney, Godfrey-Smith says his study of cephalopods is increasingly influencing his professional life (and his personal one: Arrival, the 2016 film about first contact with cephalopod-esque aliens, was a good, inventive film, he says, though the invaders were a bit more like jellyfish).

When philosophers ponder the mind-body problem, none poses quite such a challenge as that of the octopuss, and the study of cephalopods gives some clues to questions about the origins of our own consciousness.

Our last common ancestor existed 600m years ago and was thought to resemble a flattened worm, perhaps only millimetres long. Yet somewhere along the line, cephalopods developed high-resolution, camera eyes as did we, entirely independently.

A camera eye, with a lens that focuses an image on a retina weve got it, theyve got it, and thats it, says Godfrey-Smith. That it was arrived at twice in such vastly different animals gives pause for thought about the process of evolution, as does their inexplicably short life spans: most species of cephalopods live only about one to two years.

The study of cephalopods gives some clues to questions about the origins of our own consciousness. Photograph: Peter Godfrey-Smith

When I learned that, I was just amazed it was such a surprise, says Godfrey-Smith, somewhat sadly. Id just gotten to know the animals. I thought, Ill be visiting these guys for ages. Then I thought, No, I wont, theyll be dead in a few months.

Its perhaps the biggest paradox presented by an animal that has no shortage of contradictions: A really big brain and a really short life. From an evolutionary perspective, Godfrey-Smith explains, it does not give a good return on investment.

Its a bit like spending a vast amount of money to do a PhD, and then youve got two years to make use of it … the accounting is really weird.

One possibility is that an octopuss brain needs to be powerful just to preside over such an unwieldy form, in the same way that a computer would need a state-of-the-art processor to perform a large volume of complex tasks.

I mean, the body is so hard to control, with eight arms and every possible inch an elbow. But that explanation doesnt account for the flair, even playfulness with which they apply it.

They behave smartly, they do all these novel, inventive things that line of reasoning doesnt resolve things, by any stretch, says Godfrey-Smith. Theres still a somewhat mysterious element there.

Other Minds: The Octopus and the Evolution of Intelligent Life is published by William Collins. To order a copy for 17 (RRP 20) go to bookshop.theguardian.com or call 0330 333 6846. Free UK p&p over 10, online orders only. Phone orders min p&p of 1.99. It is out through Harper Collins in Australia.

Read more: http://www.theguardian.com/us

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viralhottopics · 8 years ago