[He had no trivial matters to attend nor important, important is subjective and he did not care in the slightest. This one had all that could be had in his grasp, aching to have more when he owned the infinite blue, black and colorless. It thought that perhaps he could relax and discuss pointless matters as he had observed so many times. He was hungry, he wanted to drink teh nectar of knowledge. The mounthless hatter would quietly move ahead without making a single sound, the ground could not contact him, he was different from matter, and yet now it could touch him. For a small minute, he, or perhaps she, wanted to be "human". Forming a mouth out need, and the black tendrils under his skin hiding deep inside, Melbourne spoke.] Greetings, I...seem to have lost myself in this place, this beautiful garden of life. My name is Melbourne Philip Lester, a pleasure, mister...? [He extended his arm towards him, wanting to give him a handshake, perhaps to make him feel at ease. Perhaps to feel.]

This Melbourne fellow, he didn't feel quite right. Something about him was simply...off. In a way, he felt a bit of kinship with the...entity. Was that even a broad enough word? Regardless, just as human fear was without definition, FH was without a clear form. He simply chose a humanoid form to feel closer to humanity. This one though, it felt as if it had nothing to hide, and yet nothing to show. Corporeal, unfathomable. True, false. There seemed to be no way to sum this thing up. It didn't feel human, nor inhuman. Still, he couldn't leave a guest without courtesy. FH stepped out of his chair, walking through the pond. The water moved away from his feet as he did so, leaving his shoes dry. He stops at the edge of the pond, and extends his hand to meet Melbourne's. The pleasure is mine, you may call me FH; and yes, life is a beautiful scene, is it not? I had hoped to capture that beauty in this garden, with this pool. He gestured to the reflection pond, and turned an eye to Melbourne. What do you say, Mister Lester? Care to take a peek?

FH, I do not share those views on life and beauty, I consider them...boring, to put it simply. This garden is beautiful, yet atrocious and alluring, it is perhaps the true essence of life or existance, or breathing the light, tasting dark. [It clearly showed a dishonest interest with his curiosity at peak. Melbourne, indeed, looked at the pond, the watery liquid of dreaming phantoms. Would it show his reflection or would it show into this world his true colors? To think they were colors, what an arrogant thought, truly he was posing as a human. The water, it showed him reality and the unconscious fang, blinking into oblivion with the green saliva. Through and through, calamity and peace...the water showed Melbourne as he allowed anyone else to see. He could eliminate his reflection, this substitute doppelganger, in reality, something born from his want and desire. Only Melbourne stood there, it looked back at him. Lost.] Would you perhaps explain how you made this entire scenery possible? You have made me feel interested, curious. Like a wolf gazing up at the moon I howl... [His fake human look kept looking back at his own abyss, but for a moment...he stopped. Instead, he stared back at this new sun, a system of possibilities unknown to him, or it.] Explain, if you so please.

FH stared down at the reflective surface as well. He frowned. Something still didn't sit right with him. He adjusted his tie, before turning back to his guest. The how...an odd question. I can answer, if you provide the same. A deal between two gentlemen, sounds fair to me, no? I formed this space from my own reality. I had a shape I wished it to take, and thus; it took said shape. Reality is an easy thing to mold, Mister Lester. All I desire, is a space in which others can reflect on themselves, and thus; that is what formed. On that note... The reflections do not lie, Mister Lester. Your "self", it shudders, as if unstable. It screams out to be freed, to be allowed to run wild. So, Mister Lester, could you not oblige it, and myself? Do away with this facade, and reveal your true self to me, and to the reflections.

I was never a prisoner, nor do I feel like running wild. Things and concepts such as this are far too limiting, too human...perhaps. I would like to call it alien as well, but it is not, it's something all living beings seem to consider more than once and then lose completely. It is absurd. [Surrounding her eyes, tendrils of dark form under them, blue, grey, black, pure void. His eyes lose the life it never had, its mouth disappears, covered in a goo, skin of liquid resonance. breathing without a nose, it lives, it dies each time it doesn't blink. Taking a single, floating step towards FH, it wonders. She would even find it humorous, curious and astonishing even. He wanted more, to feel, to eat, to drink. FH had it, the food for voids and black holes. Not even the sun can outrun this devourer.] I answer the interrogation of false pretense, true indomitable space of fear. There is no self but made up imagination, stable instability. Impossible, show it. This reflection is limited, go beyond that, let it free...let it consume you.

FH sighs, but smiles in spite of himself. You are a strange one, Mister Lester; or perhaps Melbourne would be a more fitting word to use? You are...beyond description. Your past is unreadable to me, your desires unpredictable. You are...a walking contradiction. One that draws one in, and makes them desire more. To comprehend the incomprehensible. A fruitless effort. He chuckles, before tugging on the end of one of his black gloves. He looks up at Melbourne, his smile dropping. A wave of dread washes over the area. FH's form shudders in and out of reality, as-if struggling to remain. I wonder...does a contradiction like yourself even feel fear? The beautiful scenery begins to grow dreary, fading away. A shadow envelopes the area, and FH's form is almost indistinguishable from the surroundings by now. Would Melbourne see anything in this place now? The tranquil facade has faded, and all that remains is a land of terror. What laid in this realm, if anything at all? That much, was up to the guest.

Fear is for those with a beginning and end, I cannot feel, I see the end but do not feel it. I can grasp my beginning but it does not rot. Eons or a single day is relative to my desire. Such is the will of it. I stand in the middle of uncertain and probability, a tense reality I have to consume. [It does not see or feel, hear or taste. Yet he find the imaginary number alluring. This land of pure nothingness...it's cold, it's missing from his understanding, her reasons. It looks for an answer suitable but he does not. His body trembles, his bones, they shatter, breaking violently as his mouth opens open, ripping is skins and throwing black smoke of dispair. Something inside of him feels rotten, dying, fearful. Perhaps it was the insects that one Fakelib gifted him. A shame, those small ones were no more as his body consumed them all at once, he wanted to feel their pain, but he couldn't. Not even a single taste of it. Empty. His fingers contort, tendrils of miserable match the darkness, escaping, gaping. This melody of forgotten yells for more, more. Everlasting his laughter, his razorsharp teeth for knowledge. Soon he says, he speaks and understands.] Pr'sla fleg'trn yslma'ak kathra. Bp'k k'xlatan Flr'gtrnm. [This delicious agony he couldn't feel. Yes, he never felt fear.] Marvelous.

Not even a wince. You are something else, Melbourne. I will give you that. The scenery shifted to the former garden, the reflection pond and all. FH returned to the world, now resting in his chair. He calmly holds out his right hand, causing a pair of thin, metal-rimmed sunglasses to manifest. The lenses are tinted black, and conceal the man's eyes as he places them on his face, moving his hair out of the way. He then snapped his fingers, this time causing two glasses and a bottle of high-class wine to appear on the ground between the pair. He pours two glasses, and extends one to Melbourne. Cheers, my friend. You are free of anything I had attributed to life...no, to sentience. You have earned my respect.

Likewise, FH. I do not understand this existence of your but I am dying to know. For you are unique among the lambs and toys. Perhaps the greatest gift. [Melbourne accepts this gesture and gently grabs the glass of wine offered to him. He takes a moment to look at this unique and refined beverage which he never tried before, but has seen countless other take like some sort of holy liquid. Regardless, curiosity got the better of it and drank it slowly.] Fun and knowledge is the end goal for what never ends.