At the end of the day, he's just glad they're through the worst of it, and that there's light on the horizon for Jedao - and by extension, a few other people too.
"Right, so." He doesn't pull away, but he does pick up a stick nearby with his cheerful rally. "Miles are imperial units of measurement, as opposed to metric - centimetres and metres and such. One mile is five thousand, two hundred and eighty feet, and a foot--"
Here he uses the stick to draw a line in the mud, and it is, roughly, about as long as his own foot is. "--is about twelve inches, the most basic unit. I think it's, er- about two and a half centimetres, or something. I am about five foot nine inches tall."
"Blame the Romans, probably," he hums dryly. "War-mongering conquerors of ancient history. Though numerology's been a thing since the Egyptians first invented a proper numerical system, or something to that effect - they're even older, allegedly one of the oldest civilisations on Earth."
He idly tosses his stick into the water. "Numerology's a crock of shit on Earth, of course. It's invariant all the way down- the premise of calendric mechanics exist, mostly as- as a sort of joke, a more philosophical, nonsense series of beliefs. A-at least to humans, though, but the idea of masses devoted to a single idea is how beings like the King in Yellow amass power."
Jedao flinches a little to hear Arthur call it calendrical mechanics, a forcible reminder that Arthur knows the details now. Still, it's done, and the only ways to undo it would be things John wouldn't allow and Jedao wouldn't forgive himself for.
"I have a theory that your universe's thing is having irrationals at the handshake nodes instead of a central integer. John feels very Phi to me, sometimes."
"Uhm-" There's no hiding the flicker of confusion in his eyes when Jedao goes further than the limited bits of calendrical jargon that Arthur does remember - and even then it's not much, given that it was very much not an Andan-typical field of study. "R-right, er. Yes."
The laugh that nets is both surprised and relieved, and he bumps back against Jedao with a broad smile.
"I didn't know its mathematical name, no. I'm aware of it in the arts - painters crow about it, there's a way to do it with music but I never experimented with it myself."
"Well, it's important in math, too," Jedao tells him. "It's...it's the number that's the most impossible to ever fit in a finite fraction. It's endless and beautiful...it shows up in the places wherever the universe is twisting itself away from simplicity. It's in the way seashells coil and sunflower seeds grow and honeybees breed and the angle your DNA turns around itself."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Eventually, though, he asks quietly. "How much of this would you prefer that I tell John later? Besides the obvious- nothing at all."
They both know he's going to. So he'll at least leave how much he's leaving his raw nerves exposed to Jedao's discretion.
no subject
no subject
He gives Jedao one more squeeze, tugging him to press tight against him.
"I'm proud of you."
no subject
no subject
"Right, so." He doesn't pull away, but he does pick up a stick nearby with his cheerful rally. "Miles are imperial units of measurement, as opposed to metric - centimetres and metres and such. One mile is five thousand, two hundred and eighty feet, and a foot--"
Here he uses the stick to draw a line in the mud, and it is, roughly, about as long as his own foot is. "--is about twelve inches, the most basic unit. I think it's, er- about two and a half centimetres, or something. I am about five foot nine inches tall."
no subject
no subject
He idly tosses his stick into the water. "Numerology's a crock of shit on Earth, of course. It's invariant all the way down- the premise of calendric mechanics exist, mostly as- as a sort of joke, a more philosophical, nonsense series of beliefs. A-at least to humans, though, but the idea of masses devoted to a single idea is how beings like the King in Yellow amass power."
no subject
"I have a theory that your universe's thing is having irrationals at the handshake nodes instead of a central integer. John feels very Phi to me, sometimes."
no subject
no subject
"I know Earth has Phi. Y'all even call it the Golden Ratio."
Which makes the comparison almost unbearably twee, except that it also works.
no subject
"I didn't know its mathematical name, no. I'm aware of it in the arts - painters crow about it, there's a way to do it with music but I never experimented with it myself."
no subject
no subject
"I think that suits him perfectly," he says warmly.