Syx turned over one of the clear ravioli on the plate, humming in interest, “Another difference between them, then. Wayne could cook, but it wasn’t a passion from what I could tell,” not that Wayne really ever opened up much to him. But he didn’t want to focus on that heartbreak with when he had a wonderful man sitting across from him. He smirked, “I am in awe of your’s skill then. It must take a strong man to keep cooking under a lustful blue gaze.”
“Also, most of this has made sense in one way or another… but why is the wine growing?” Syx queried, watching Harrison study the wine glass.
Watching the subtle shift in facial expressions, the look in Harrison’s eyes as he spoke… Syx wanted to see the man work. Wanted to see the look in his eyes as he discovered the solution to a problem. To see his face transform in frustration and delight and concentration. That and all the other fun that began to invade his thoughts at the idea of haveing a sexy blue man beside him in a workshop. While the villain was all about workshop safety… a perfect height lab table was a wonderful thing… as his thoughts wandered, he ran his thumb idly over the rim of his own glass, his green eyes hooded from his imaginings.
“It seems to be a sprig of basil ….” Harrison mused. Normally he would be more polite than this, but he figures he is out with a blue man who is just as curious as himself. Ah well, manners be dammed. He takes his knife, unused so far in the meal, and sticks it in the glass. He pokes the burgundy bottom and is surprised to find it is quite firm. A little grin crosses his face and he claps like Devin does when he succeeds at something brand new. Oh he does so love things that are clever and this, this is quite clever!
“The basil isn’t growing, its merely suspended by the stem in a gelatin,” he explains, looking up at Syx as though he just remembered the other man was still there. “I wonder what it tastes like. I suppose it depends on the wine…” He gingerly picked it up the glass and takes a tentative sip. “Hmmmm…. Not too old a vintage but …. the basil adds a little… brightness. And the gel might have a touch of…. cardamom. And something sweet. Maybe its cranberry or…. beet.”
Syx peered into his own glass, “Basil? Really?” he frowned thoughtfully at it. He was far from a wine connoisseur. He usually drank what was cheap or what Uncle Freddy recommended. He sniffed the drink experimentally, “What are they going for with this?”
Watching Harrison proved to be far more entertaining. His face split in a wide grin at seeing that happy clap. Green eyes dancing as he drops his chin into the palm of his hand, elbow braced on the table, “You’re adorable.”
“Sweet is good…” Syx took a sip himself, pursing his lips, “Very… odd.”
“You know… the good bad,” Syx gave a helpless sort of shrug and waved a hand as he spoke, “Not I’m going to murder you, evil, just…” his gaze wandered to the direction his Uncle had left by, “The sort of bad where you have to decide between following the law or surviving.”
With a look of faint confusion, he tried to explain what to him seemed obvious, “Good bad is taking care of your family and protecting your people. It’s not giving up just because some jerk sheeple in a fancy suit tells you that you’re worthless. It’s rejecting the faulty ethics of a corrupt city where everything is stacked against you and making a life despite it,” he waved his hand around at the restaurant around them, “It’s surviving despite the law, and the government, and the corrupt cops, and the hateful assholes. It’s not letting them turn you into something you’re not. Not giving into them.”
He sighed, fidgeting with his fingers, “I… haven’t always been able to hold to that idea as closely as I’d like… but I always shoot for good bad and not evil bad,” because he felt like that might need clarification as well, he added, “Evil bad, not bwahaha I’m evil, like I do, but like… serial killers and murderers and sadistic thugs. True evil is the people who don’t give one fuck who they hurt. Not just that they don’t care, they enjoy it.”
His eyes were hard and distant, “In prison terms… if you know those? Good bad is min-sec, white collar or those that got jailed for drug possession or minor theft. True evil is ultra-max. None of my Uncles were ever higher than medium,” he bit his lip and looked back to his hands, “You’re already sitting with the only person in my extended family to ever be in max.”
Paige was quiet as Syx obviously struggled with whatever it was that he was trying to convey to her, brows slightly furrowed as she began to tap her tongue ring against the roof of her mouth without thought. She did listen to what he was saying, though she found his explanation a bit odd. Weren’t they all trying to make a life despite what the government tried to do? Weren’t they all stacked against…? It was something she certainly felt about herself, having gained a bad set of cards from the very beginning of her life. Struggling with an abusive household that held a hint of neglect, Paige had been surviving from the very moment she could walk…
All through his explanation she didn’t interrupt him, letting him talk as he saw fit, trying to figure it out in her own mind as he attempted to explain it. While it certainly shed some light on how it was this man thought, it still confused her to think that so many people in this world were apparently this… good bad combination? She certainly felt as if she was, but she had done nothing actually illegal in the process. Did that make her just good? She wasn’t entirely sure, and quite honestly the entire ordeal was giving her a headache.
Though his admission that he was in max prison had her frowning, brows furrowing, “Max? I thought you said you were good bad? Why would they put you in max prison..?” she was so damn confused, and that was evident in how she was looking to him. Didn’t he just say that true evil got the max? He wasn’t true evil though, that much she was for certain. She had lived with evil, lived with a cruel man… from what she saw, even on the news, Syx was not cruel.
“Heh… Well… technically? I mean-” Syx fluttered his hands about wildly “-I do keep escaping. Warden said I was up to…” he looked up in thought, “99 life sentences? Destruction of property, disruption of the lives of Metrocity’s sheeple, death threats against the city’s hero…” he ticked off on his fingers, “there was was a public indecency accusation in there somewhere but that was total rubbish. I wasn’t the one who was naked, Metro Man was. Yes. I caused it, but how was I supposed to know that was going to happen?”
“But mostly I’m in Ultra Max solitary for the escaping part,” he shrugged. He’d always just assumed that was common knowledge.
OH MY GOD roxanne and megamind decorating for christmas for the first time
minion is APPALLED lol
(these ornaments go on the tree that stays in Sir and Miss Ritchi’s bedroom)
ALSO
((this made me think of like…a possible fertility holiday on M’ega celebrating Malir-tek where you decorate things with fertility symbols like seashells and octopuses))
RP backup 