[ If we're still going with the physical cues for telepathic things, the Grandmaster's chin digs into Taneleer's shoulder a little with his answer, but slackens a bit with his question. ]
No.
[ Physically, the Grandmaster wets his lips. ]
Did you have a vision you think applies to the near future of this universe?
[Succinct, but totally following the rules of the game. Yes. Taneleer's hands go to two places, one rests on his shoulder and his other touches his lower lip. His breath grows heavier and whatever lump of cardiac flesh lies in the center of his chest, or somewhere whereabouts, practically stops where it is.
But that tempest contained in his head only grows. So hungry, this ache, so greedy.
Taneleer Tivan, the Collector, the head of the infamous Tivan Group, etc., etc., etc., simply remains rather still, barely discernable from the bookshelves and other pieces of furniture around him. After a good, little spell:] Of course.
[There are many questions, now, that Taneleer has about Topaz (and the curious reaction his brother had). Where she is, if she's running Sakaar now, why she isn't in the know (in spite of acting as his Brother's right hand for so long). But none of those are yes-or-no questions. So, instead, Taneleer sends this:] Does anyone else from Sakaar know where you are? Other than yourself. [Couldn't leave his Brother an opening for telling a technical truth.]
[ The Grandmaster himself is currently lounging on the sofa in his shared condo. Well, ok, he was lounging before they started playing this game of theirs. Now he's sort of perched on the edge, dividing his attention between the communicator settled on the arm and his surroundings. One of his thumbs runs absently along his lower lip.
Darryl was cute, cute enough to ask the Grandmaster to start doing some chores around their abode. Of course at the time, he'd tactfully moved the conversation along to making Darryl do his laundry without making any agreements. Now, though, as he considers the question that comes through, he takes a little time to tell the particles of dust in the room to dislodge themselves and collects them in a little ball before him. He pushes the brown-grey ball into little fractals with just a twitch of the pinky before he looks down at the communicator. There is no need for him to physically type. ]
Technically speaking, there are very few people who are from Sakaar.
No.
[ He weighs his options for the next question. A little smile curls over his lips. ]
[Taneleer Tivan grits his teeth, practically hissing back at this answer. Of course. Of course. This seriousness, sandwiched between such odd questions and his..."answers". It's to discombobulate him. A horrid, horrid strategy from his Brother.] Only my socks are a shade of currant. You'll have to ask if you want to know what else I'm wearing.
[Alright. More careful wording. Taneleer presses his thumb into the sizeable vermillion of his lower lip, digging a black nail into that divot.
Topaz. Mentioning his right hand/guard/etc. seems to have invoked the most...fascinating response.] Will you be sending for Topaz soon, so that she will live with you and your Darryl?
[ It should have just been a "yes", but he's not going to try to enforce rules while he wants the specificity.
Taneleer isn't soon to get the same sort of expansion, especially not when the subject of Topaz arises again. There's a twitch on his side, like a cat's tail flickering with annoyance. It's almost like he's holding in a sigh. ]
[Probably could have just been a yes, but, well, somebody felt a little like going extra with his answer. Hint, hint.
That finger of his digs a little deeper, testing the strength of his lip's skin and daring to break through with just the right amount of effort.
It's tit-for-tat, the Collector conjectures. Answers that pose little threat to him get silly answers/questions, things involving Topaz invoke the more personal questions. Interesting.] Yes.
[ There's a little sense of dread, which always seems to be the case with 20 questions and a worthy opponent. Sometimes it's easy to think no one else is capable of understanding you, and while such thoughts can make an existence lonely... sometimes it's even more horrible to feel like you're being figured out.
The Grandmaster lets the dust ball begin to trickle down into the empty candy bowl on the table like a suspended hour glass. ]
[...why not? What could have happened to Topaz? Could it be that she'd been taken? Ah, but whose hold is great enough to deny his all-powerful and all-mighty Brother someone so dear? (Unless, of course--ah, Taneleer would have to have that verified.) The Collector becomes so absorbed in this thunderous pain in his head and this concentration required for such a game that he lets slip that fingernail into his lip and manages to draw some blood.
So automatically, the younger Elder balls his hand into a fist and cushions his new wound in the flesh of his thumb.
Truly this is one intense game of twenty questions, yo.
Ah, but his words--Taneleer must, must, must recall to mind his words.] Yes.
[ It may be horrible, but he's flattered in the way any narcissist would be to hear they've been caught on the prime slot news. Nevermind that he's dying in this broadcast ( that's another concern for another time ), his Brother has seen himself worried enough to reach out.
Of course, this just may translate as a general happiness to hear that he could be dying soon as far as Taneleer is concerned. ]
[And--there's that confusing warmth Taneleer's registering, coming from the other end! His Brother is...effusing about this. Bubbling, like champagne poured into a flute. He's enjoying hearing something like this somehow. (Oh, but he wouldn't really be if he knew...ah, but time will tell if he'll figure this out.)
And this answer of his. Could it be that he's too distracted by news of his own death? Or--] What does it matter.
[ While Topaz is important, she's easily second fiddle to his fellow immortal. And wow, what a dodge! En Dwi Gast can only imagine the pouting that's going on right now. His presence leans a little against Taneleer, nudging him. ]
I'm sorry, but that isn't an acceptable answer. Try again.
[The Collector simultaneously bellows, releasing a terrible groan, while impulsively twisting his torso so that his elbow would block his Older Brother's nudge (albeit a bit too late, but, then again, this sort of thing is common betwixt older and younger siblings).] No.
[A question lost. A question lost!] Now I repeat my previous inquiry: do you still care for her?
[ What a brat. What a brat! En Dwi Gast can feel his fight, and while he yields a little, he isn't letting go of this proximity. He can sense Taneleer is in pain, perhaps even feel some of it himself, but he knows there's very little he can do to help him. There's more to that pain than folds of nerves; the best En Dwi's ever seemed to be able to do in the past is either pique the endocrine system into numbing things or putting the man out entirely. Of course, now that they're playing this game, he's unable to try either. ]
You know it's only going to get worse for you if you don't try to swallow something, even if it's that nutrient jelly. I know you've got plenty of that, so don't be a fool. And don't think I won't tattle to your little canine friend.
[No! ΠΊΠΎΡΠΌΠΎ couldn't be allowed into this! The prying little creature might attempt to dig into his ailing master's mind, and then his blabbermaw--] You bring my Head of Security into this game, you may very well wind up forfeiting and, then, you wouldn't be able to ask a boon if you would be victorious.
[It's a cruel thing, truly, pitting his Elder Sibling's need to win against his concern for his younger sib. But there are just some things Taneleer absolutely cannot allow now. Not while he's in this state and so psychically unprepared for another element to be thrown in too unexpectedly. Under no circumstances could En Dwi Gast learn the entire contents of his vision or learn the true reason for his sibling's headache.
I can always wait until the game is done to do so, Brother. You might consider taking care of yourself in the meantime so I don't have to take such a measure.
[ Nice try, little bro.
But then... with this priority sorted and an ultimatum dispensed... ]
Your answer is "yes".
Are you also a participant in this vision, a tangible witness of my demise?
[Tivan has found himself hunched too horribly over his dispatch device, with the screen too close to his face. What terrible posture! And at his age, even! The blond stops to breathe for a spell and, after straightening his back, so that he leans more into his chair, he sends this:] No.
[So there is no falling out between the pair of them, and, yet, his Brother cannot bring her to Terra.] Was Topaz taken by a greater foe than you?
[ The dust is still running, seeping down into the bowl, and the flow is a soothing thing for him to not only observe, but hold in check. His lower lip hurts, and he thumbs it, but finds no breach in the skin.
A greater foe than him? Oh, there's your mistake, Taneleer. ]
[Yeah, Tivan really should have thought of the implication there but he'd missed it; he's still not really seeing it either, so oops.] Of course. He kills everyone, like he's always done when I'd seen him. [ahaha ok he probably said too much there, but, dadgummit, he really loathes the Purple People Eater.]
Did she willingly choose to leave you for good, then? [Only other option he can think of at this time.]
Honestly from what I've heard of him, I have to doubt your vision. I'd like to think he'd have to stand up first and I haven't seen a record of that happening in a good millinea. Have you?
[ Obviously the best way to combat this revelation is by throwing some shade. ]
No.
Was it a violent death? Right now I would think it'd have to be, smearing me over the cosmos like the finest swatch of paint.
[Taneleer's only told En Dwi vague basic things, things that he'd probably already known or heard of prior to this. But not the details. The blond senses something running down his temples. Are those--yes, sweatdrops. He's sweating. Ah, this is ridiculous. Truly. The man knows this, while he wipes this wetness away with gentle flicks of his fingers.
But this latest question tho.] I'm taking the penalty for this, Brother; I refuse to answer this question.
That's two down for you now. I'm at my 10th question. I think I'd like to let you be the first to name your stake, since you let me have the first question.
But for my question: Does the concept of my death make you feel sad?
[There arenβt really many things Taneleer can feel anymore. His nerve endings have simply weakened. His body doesnβt respond as it did to chemicals it produced (like the equivalent of dopamine) . Heβd simply seen too much, lived through too much.
But the thought of losing his Brotherβ] As much as I am able.
Should I win, I want you to take over Terra. I would offer whatever aid I could to this cause, if you should need it.
You know, I've always considered this particular sentiment of yours to be redundant. As if anyone could possibly do more than they're able or as if the term isn't completely subjective.
It seems you're having a hard time following the rules of this game, so I'll reiterate. The answers are: yes, no, I don't know, and sometimes.
Some answers simply can't be divided neatly into those categories, especially not an answer not like this.
[Big Bro really wants to hear it aloud, doesn't he? (Or, at least, receive written confirmation.) He so craves to hear how this will tear his little Bro apart.
Sorry Bro.] It's a yes, a no, a sometimes, and an I don't know. When you organize a fight and you already know what's going to happen, do you put on the proper expression for those that didn't share your same knowledge? Do you force yourself to feel what you know you ought to be expected to feel?
[ No, he didn't think it'd be that easy. It hadn't stopped him from being frustrated, however. He also suspected a veiled demand for information would yield him something more than what seemed to him a pithy platitude. ]
You may only put forth one question at a time, Brother. Choose.
[ There's such a wry slither of a smirk across his face, grim. ]
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No.
[ Physically, the Grandmaster wets his lips. ]
Did you have a vision you think applies to the near future of this universe?
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But that tempest contained in his head only grows. So hungry, this ache, so greedy.
Taneleer Tivan, the Collector, the head of the infamous Tivan Group, etc., etc., etc., simply remains rather still, barely discernable from the bookshelves and other pieces of furniture around him. After a good, little spell:] Of course.
[There are many questions, now, that Taneleer has about Topaz (and the curious reaction his brother had). Where she is, if she's running Sakaar now, why she isn't in the know (in spite of acting as his Brother's right hand for so long). But none of those are yes-or-no questions. So, instead, Taneleer sends this:] Does anyone else from Sakaar know where you are? Other than yourself. [Couldn't leave his Brother an opening for telling a technical truth.]
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Darryl was cute, cute enough to ask the Grandmaster to start doing some chores around their abode. Of course at the time, he'd tactfully moved the conversation along to making Darryl do his laundry without making any agreements. Now, though, as he considers the question that comes through, he takes a little time to tell the particles of dust in the room to dislodge themselves and collects them in a little ball before him. He pushes the brown-grey ball into little fractals with just a twitch of the pinky before he looks down at the communicator. There is no need for him to physically type. ]
Technically speaking, there are very few people who are from Sakaar.
No.
[ He weighs his options for the next question. A little smile curls over his lips. ]
Are you wearing a red today?
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[Alright. More careful wording. Taneleer presses his thumb into the sizeable vermillion of his lower lip, digging a black nail into that divot.
Topaz. Mentioning his right hand/guard/etc. seems to have invoked the most...fascinating response.] Will you be sending for Topaz soon, so that she will live with you and your Darryl?
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Taneleer isn't soon to get the same sort of expansion, especially not when the subject of Topaz arises again. There's a twitch on his side, like a cat's tail flickering with annoyance. It's almost like he's holding in a sigh. ]
No.
Did this recent vision of yours involve me?
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That finger of his digs a little deeper, testing the strength of his lip's skin and daring to break through with just the right amount of effort.
It's tit-for-tat, the Collector conjectures. Answers that pose little threat to him get silly answers/questions, things involving Topaz invoke the more personal questions. Interesting.] Yes.
Are you unable to retrieve Topaz?
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The Grandmaster lets the dust ball begin to trickle down into the empty candy bowl on the table like a suspended hour glass. ]
Yes.
Do I die in this vision?
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So automatically, the younger Elder balls his hand into a fist and cushions his new wound in the flesh of his thumb.
Truly this is one intense game of twenty questions, yo.
Ah, but his words--Taneleer must, must, must recall to mind his words.] Yes.
Are you still on good terms with Topaz?
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Of course, this just may translate as a general happiness to hear that he could be dying soon as far as Taneleer is concerned. ]
I don't know. I think so.
Have you eaten a real meal in the last 72 hours?
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And this answer of his. Could it be that he's too distracted by news of his own death? Or--] What does it matter.
Do you still care for Topaz?
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I'm sorry, but that isn't an acceptable answer. Try again.
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[A question lost. A question lost!] Now I repeat my previous inquiry: do you still care for her?
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You know it's only going to get worse for you if you don't try to swallow something, even if it's that nutrient jelly. I know you've got plenty of that, so don't be a fool. And don't think I won't tattle to your little canine friend.
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[It's a cruel thing, truly, pitting his Elder Sibling's need to win against his concern for his younger sib. But there are just some things Taneleer absolutely cannot allow now. Not while he's in this state and so psychically unprepared for another element to be thrown in too unexpectedly. Under no circumstances could En Dwi Gast learn the entire contents of his vision or learn the true reason for his sibling's headache.
Tivan could not allow it!]
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[ Nice try, little bro.
But then... with this priority sorted and an ultimatum dispensed... ]
Your answer is "yes".
Are you also a participant in this vision, a tangible witness of my demise?
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[So there is no falling out between the pair of them, and, yet, his Brother cannot bring her to Terra.] Was Topaz taken by a greater foe than you?
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A greater foe than him? Oh, there's your mistake, Taneleer. ]
No.
Does Thanos kill me?
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Did she willingly choose to leave you for good, then? [Only other option he can think of at this time.]
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[ Obviously the best way to combat this revelation is by throwing some shade. ]
No.
Was it a violent death? Right now I would think it'd have to be, smearing me over the cosmos like the finest swatch of paint.
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But this latest question tho.] I'm taking the penalty for this, Brother; I refuse to answer this question.
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But for my question: Does the concept of my death make you feel sad?
Alright Iβm gonna hit the hay after this, but this intense 10 out of twenty questions has been fun
But the thought of losing his Brotherβ] As much as I am able.
Should I win, I want you to take over Terra. I would offer whatever aid I could to this cause, if you should need it.
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It seems you're having a hard time following the rules of this game, so I'll reiterate. The answers are: yes, no, I don't know, and sometimes.
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[Big Bro really wants to hear it aloud, doesn't he? (Or, at least, receive written confirmation.) He so craves to hear how this will tear his little Bro apart.
Sorry Bro.] It's a yes, a no, a sometimes, and an I don't know. When you organize a fight and you already know what's going to happen, do you put on the proper expression for those that didn't share your same knowledge? Do you force yourself to feel what you know you ought to be expected to feel?
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You may only put forth one question at a time, Brother. Choose.
[ There's such a wry slither of a smirk across his face, grim. ]
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