damnpire | (no subject)

[Great, time to be a nerd. This may be one of the few times he's ever spoken as much to anyone since being here. But he finds the discussion interesting with someone who can be rational and unbiased.]

A classification system can cause a great deal of problems. [So he's saying he agrees.] Humans are prone to creating labels to discuss things with one another. The separation is typically about survivability.

Saying, "I saw a human," is different than, "I saw a suspicious alien."

Even though Drakstaden civilians are all human, they have done the same with labels. If you ask about the Vakdir above, they are considered allies. If you ask about the Vakdir below, they are considered ones to be feared. In the end, the Vakdir are just like everyone else: human.

[ Violet listens intently, taking in D's words with her usual impassive face. Then, finally, she nods. ]

... You have thought on this a great deal.

[Well, after that spout, he's again suddenly more so quiet, as if he had talked a cup full of words and decided he didn't want to talk anymore forever. He blinks, but doesn't little else than gently stare.

FInally:] I have been alive for a long time. [To explain the discourse.]

... You do not look that much older than myself. ... Though I am not good at guessing ages in any case.

Edited 2018-05-11 13:01 (UTC)

I do not age the same way as humans.

[He doesn't age at all, it seems, honestly. Immortalized at the edge of youth, so perfect he is shunned by most on the Frontier because they are intimidated.]

[ She thinks about that for a few moments.

Then, softly-- ]

... I do not think I would like that.

Why? [He doesn't sound shocked or insulted. In fact, it sounds almost as if he agrees.] Many humans go to great lengths to escape death.

... I am not afraid to die. But I think I would be unbearably sad ... if my friends grew old and died, but I did not.

[She isn't wrong. He's seen many, many people live and die. He's seen them from birth, and he's seen them being put into the ground. It's why he doesn't care much for attachments, for companionship. Human life is so fleeting to someone like him.

His face holds a strangely heavy air of sadness.]

That is why human life is most precious of all.

[ Hm. ]

... You do not regard your own life as precious?

It is not a life that should have existed.

[ Plainly-- ] But it does.

I know.

[Which he couldn't help, and yet, his answer doesn't change.]

...

[ Violet doesn't say anything to that for a moment. It seems like that puts her at a loss for words. But then, in a small voice-- ]

... Well, it is precious to me.

[Likewise, D doesn't seem to know what to say, so he's quiet for a long time without doing anything more than blinking. She wouldn't understand that he shouldn't exist as a product of a human and a vampire, and she wouldn't understand that he shouldn't exist because he was merely an experiment. She wouldn't know, and D wouldn't tell.]

Why? You don't know me very well.

... Is that necessary?

You said it was precious to you specifically.

It is.

But I also do not believe it is necessary to know a person in their entirety in order to cherish them. Only to understand what they mean to you.

You are always kind to me, and I find it easy to be in your presence. If you died or departed, I would be sad. Therefore, it is a life that is precious to me.

I see. [Again, he's not sure what to say. It seems wrong to dissuade her; whether or not she is alright in his company is not his choice in the end. And, yet, he also doesn't necessarily agree in regards to himself.

Suffering and pain always follow him where he goes.] Very well.

I won't stop you.

[ A curious turn of phrase. Violet only tilts her head. ]

... You could not even if you wished to.

Why do you think I couldn't?

Human emotions are not so easily changed.

They do not appear to operate on either logic or will.

[D's chin tips down, his head nodding in acknowledgment and agreement. But he keeps it down once it's lowered, his eyes likewise cast to the ground.]

Your kindness is wasted on someone like me.

Fallacy.

It is not a finite resource, therefore there can be no waste.

[With a flick, his eyes lift to glance at her, deep and rusty red, almost brown. He looks as if he wants to say something, but changes his mind. She's stubborn, and he's familiar with stubborn women. Arguing isn't in his nature, so he relents.

The only way she'd understand this kind of morose demeanor would be if she had lived his life--perhaps. He can understand that.]

Alright.