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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/EighthMovement|Eighth Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT ADanceOfAngels |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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| − | == A Terrible Reality ==
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| − | Ryshassa tiptoes through the halls of Palace of Timeless Winters, looking particularly pleased with herself. She's found quite the stash in one of the unused bedrooms of the Palace... the prettiest clothes she's laid her eyes on! The most beautiful delicate things... All velvets and frothy petticoats and bows and puffed sleeves and skirts down to the knee (and sometimes above)!
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| − | As she lugs her pile of clothing towards her room, for sorting and for trying, she stumbles upon a little Monkey, huddled in the corner of a hall, watching her pass by... "Days, hello! You must see these dresses. They are so beautiful... they'd look wonderful on you~!"
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| − | Ryshy is always so full of cheer when she finds new clothes to wear.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Monkey doesn't reply at first, remaining in the corner as she watches Ryshy with wide, confused brass eyes. Those eyes quickly home in on the clothes, and as soon as Days catches what she's saying, Monkey recoils a little, mostly out of unease.
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| − | "I... I don't like dresses... too... too frilly. Too girly. I prefer loose things..." ''Please leave me be... ''
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "Really? But you're a girl right now. I don't want to force you, though... but don't you find those clothes uncomfortable? The vest doesn't really fit very well on your body now," she points out... trying not to be TOO eager. But ...but!
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| − | She pulls out a one piece dress from the pile, not fitted at the bust or waist but just gradually flaring outward from the shoulders down to the knees. With a pretty scalloped collar, lacy but not too ostentatious, long sleeves gathered at the wrists, the body of it a pale lavender, and a little pink fabric rose pinned at the throat.
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| − | "See, this isn't too tight! Or maybe you'd prefer red... I really think you'd look lovely in red..." Ryshassa beams at Days looking flushed with excitement to share her finds.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Days... just stares at it like it would jump out and bite her in half. Hell, maybe it would... she'd heard about wyld creatures that pose as clothing, only to devour their wearers down to their blood and hair. But... this was a Solar, who was smiling and blushing, seemingly insistant that she wear this outfit for her.
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| − | Somehow, that fact managed to bother Days even more than carnivorous clothes. But even then... deep down, she didn't want to offend, too worried to bother the gentle healer who'd likely saved her life.
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| − | "... I... well... I'd... I suppose I could try them. For you. I can't make any promises."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "It's okay! You don't have to keep them. Just try? It'll be fun. I won't hurt you... in fact... you could say that I can't." Ryshassa nods reassuringly.
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| − | "I am sure Fiona will not mind me borrowing you a little while... We can't do any trying out in the open here! So you can come and see my room for a little while."
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| − | Not touching the fae-girl, but walking beside her, Ryshassa so very innocently bings Days to her (and Alexsei's) room in Spire. Not realizing that in another state Days could very well have thought this another type of invitation altogether!
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| − | "So," she says. Smiling still as she indicates the bedroom and sitting area... the couch, chairs and bed all dark wood and pale blue fabric with winter rose design. The round table near a tall glass cabinet on one side has a fresh crocus bloom in a slender, fluted vase.
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| − | "Make yourself comfortable, I'll arrange some of these dresses on the bed here... I DO have other kinds of clothes too," she adds, indicating the large armoire where she stores her kimono and... other things.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' In another state, it is likely that by the time Ryshassa had closed the door, Days would have seduced, undressed and began gleefully molesting the 'poor' woman in under ten minutes. However, carnal pleasure is one of the last things on Monkey's mind as she looks around the room warily, nose picking up the scent of flowers and feeding maws the scent of passion, longing, conviction.
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| − | ,,, and then the good/bad feelings returned, and what little hunger she felt vanished in a wash of disgust, Days taking a moment to fight down the bile in her throat. "I... alright."
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| − | Monkey crouches a ways away from the bed, resting on her knuckles and watching Ryshy working nervously, occasionally looking towards the door as if wondering if the whole ordeal was a bad idea.
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa lays down a few garments on the bed. Seemingly randomly chosen, but not so much so, if one considers Ryshassa's eye for beauty. Of course, everyone's eye for such things is different...
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| − | First comes the lavender gown she had shown first, with the scalloped collar and lace trim, loose fitting and comfortable.
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| − | Second, a multipart dress in reds. Knee length, full skirt in deep red with a band of lace at the bottom edge pinned every now and then with small black bows. Matching bodice with square-shaped neck, this one a red brocade depicting a stylized tulip design. White blouse, subtly ruffled, to wear under the bodice, the collar like a flower opening up at the neck, and a black bow pinned right at the throat.
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| − | Third, a frock in cobalt blue, this one also a one piece, with a high, empire waist sitting right below the breasts. It too is velvet, this time in its entirety, the shoulders forming little puffs and the sleeves ending at the upper arm. A bow of matching blue satin goes around the waist and ties in behind. The collar is modest, circular, not meant to show any sort of cleavage, and the bottom hem stops just above the knee.
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| − | Fourth... something that turns out not to be a dress at all, exactly. Short red pants with a belt to hug the hips. A halter top in white and a short bolero jacket over it, also in red. "This one," Ryshassa says wistfully, "is something that reminds me of my sister's clothes... I found it with the others."
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| − | "Well... try something on! There's more... if none of those suit you." She hugs to herself a lavender, purple and black dress she seems positively ecstatic about finding. A dark green dress is tucked beneath it, another one in pale pinks. One thing is clear... Ryshy's most feminine side is frighteningly obsessive to behold.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "You... like clothes. I see. Maybe when I'm better I'll make some for you..." Monkey pauses for a moment, unsure as to what she should do next. Given a few moments, she finally looks at the four laid out for her. Dresses... don't really catch her eye, so she finds herself looking at the last one with a faint sense of dread. Visions of man-eating clothing return, and Monkey has to take a second before she simply starts to remove what little she does wear. The vest isn't at all difficult, and soon the matching sleeve, glove and boots join it in a haphazard pile to her right. The lioncloth is last, leaving Monkey in a simple twisted thong-like affair, the Boil medallion around her neck, the brass circle holding her mane back and that eery, writhing Cyst Binder covering her right forearm. That done, she pauses... and looks at herself.
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| − | ''Innocence defiled, devoured, enjoyed. You, monster, wear their skin as if it is penance enough. You cannot deny your hunger forever, child of Madness. ''
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| − | Supressing a shiver, she wastes little time in putting on the last outfit, joylessly. "... Ryshassa? Can I ask you something?"
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "What is it, Days?" Ryshassa turns around, having busied herself putting some clothes away in the armoire that seems not to have a back to it with how utterly full it is. "Oh, that's too bad... I figured you really meant it when you said you didn't like dresses though, so I thought I'd give you the option..."
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| − | "It looks good on you though!" Secretly, she wishes Days will keep it. Or try one of the others... maybe she still will...
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| − | Ryshassa waits for Days' question, though, first.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "I will... try them. Just once. But..." She picks at the cloth---it does suit her, but she looks more uneasy in it than anything, like she's worried she's imposing herself on Ryshy. "What do you do when you've done a terrible thing... and you liked it as much as you hated it?"
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| − | Since there's no need to elaborate, she does not, lest the memories return.
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| − | They return anyway, for a moment, and Days feels upset and vaguely warm in certain places. She blinks once, and the moment passes. "You seem such a gentle sort, and Creation has chosen you. You might have an idea of what I should do."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' The question gives Ryshassa pause, and she tilts her head upward thoughtfully for a moment.
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| − | ''Something terrible... I've liked or hated. ''
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| − | The images that come to mind are ones she is not sure she wants to dwell on, either. Her past in the Realm, that Alexsei had tried so hard to erase the influence of on her life and her self-image. Did she not enjoy servicing the clients her parents sold her time to, as their virginal whore? Even if it was merely because she thought it the only use she would ever have in her life? It gave her pleasure -- she wanted it. And it sparked her revulsion and shame -- for those who would use her, but most of all, for herself.
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| − | She takes a deep breath, steadying herself before responding. "I suppose you could start by asking yourself why you hate it. And why you like it. And whether those two things can coincide for you. If they cannot, perhaps you can find a way to change it, so that the like outweighs the hate. Turn the experience from something terrible to something mutually good..."
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| − | ''I never really had a choice. '' "If you can," Ryshassa adds somewhat gravely.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "I hate it because I aspire to be a hero, and it was a vile act."
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| − | Monkey pauses, and Monkey remembers anew, brass eyes taking on a faraway look to them. "I liked it because what I gained from the act was rare and savory and filling... and because I am Raksha. There can't be any reconciliation of the two, and I cannot make myself dislike it..."
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| − | ''The look in their eyes. Their screams, their moans, their words that sounded more from whores than from innocent youth... and the tearing of Temperance, the tang of virginal purity one of the rarest of dreamflavors. It was divine... and those two were destroyed to feed me. ''
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| − | "I feel I may have to give up the illusion of heroics... but I do not want to. It is a core part of me. And yet..."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "I am not as familiar with the ways of Raksha... but what you are saying is that you want to be a hero, that is a person who protects others, yet your hungers want you to devour them... their feelings?"
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| − | She almost shivers, talking about such things. But Days looks so fragile now... it is hard to think of her as any sort of monster. "Can you not... limit how much you take? They would still be able to recover, would they not? And perhaps those who are grateful to you for what you have done for them, they would willingly offer you some of their .. their dreams. Their desires. Their fears, their strengths. Those things you find ...palatable."
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Limiting is difficult! It's... it's possible, but I'm not as strong as others when it comes to pleasures. I try, but... it's like this." Days begins to remove the outfit, rather uncaring that Ryshy might be looking at her the entire time... and she soon homes in on the first dress she was shown, touching it nervously. "It is like the ways of the Immaculate. Water, rice, vegetables, bread, tea. It can sustain you, but it is bland and tasteless... and by then, you've trained yourself enough to resist temptation. For someone like me..."
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| − | Monkey trails off. "... if only you knew what it felt like, Ryshy. You'd understand the pull, the need..."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa, as soon as she can see it doesn't bother Monkey that she's looking, doesn't actually look away. She's seen enough nudity in professional setting not to freak out about it, and she could tell Days wasn't trying to be sensual about it.
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| − | "I'm sorry. I do wish I could understand. Perhaps I can... but if I read your mind it might not be a good experience for either of us." Past experience has taught her to be careful about mind-diving with... individuals not quite mortal. "You didn't... hate it before, though, did you? I mean, some of what I've heard about you before... um... before you changed again... Perhaps once you've dealt with your fear you'll not have to feel the guilt involved?"
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| − | In a way, it does revolt her. The Raksha way of feeding. But if she can abstract it, it's not much different from any feeding. People need to eat to survive. And yes, people would prefer, if they can, to have food that tastes wonderful, rather than ordinary. '' If only it didn't leave her victims so... helpless. But perhaps I could heal even that... ''
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "There are two former soldiers of the Bishop that I enthralled long ago, when I was a woman. I fed from them both, deeply. They are nearly dream-eaten, and I felt little about it because they were the enemy, the spoils of war. And yet... the shining hero is always supposed to show the defeated mercy and unfailing kindness. The hero does not tear away their hope, their will, their desire to be. But this hero did, and she could justify away all the nagging guilt. Who'd miss them, anyway? Who'd care? Heaven surely doesn't, as it has its Exalts." She slips into the billowy dress without a pause, quickly adjusting it. "But..."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "I would care..." Ryshassa says hesitantly, as if knowing that acknowledging that might make Days feel worse. "I care about all people. All who live."
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| − | "It's actually quite difficult to care so much," she confesses. "Everyone has different moralities, different needs. But I want to care about everyone. I want to believe they have good in them, that they deserve to live. Even you, as a Fair One. Even if you must take away the hopes of others and enjoy the taste of it."
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| − | Ryshassa lets a smile touch her lips, as she watches Days slip into the other dress... so pretty. Her eyes glitter. She wonders if she has a daughter whether she would protest at being dressed up this way, too.
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| − | "There are some that wish not to exist, though. That wish to have their pains taken from them. If you were to be both heroic and feed as you so desire to, perhaps you can take those dreams and feelings people no longer wish to have."
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| − | "Even if you can't, though... even if you must take their most tender of hopes greedily and willfully to satisfy your hunger... I would still want to care about you."
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "I have told many people this... and even now..." Days sighs shakily, trembling a little. "... even now, it holds true, Ryshassa. Do not trust me. The day might come, the hour may arrive, when I may turn my back on this circle, be it of my own free will or by force. If that day should come, I would hope that you all are capable of destroying me quickly. It may be in your best interest to not care... even I cannot say what I will do tomorrow." Monkey clenches her fist, looking at it. "Consider my warning. I've given it to many, and I will give it to more. Trusting the fae is a dangerous thing. And yet..."
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| − | Days sits on the bed, hands on her knees. "I thank you for wanting to care about me. It is good to see such a heart in this dark time."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "You... you're probably right..." Ryshassa says after a moment, looking sorrowful. "My husband would probably agree." ''In fact, he does agree, and he's probably already having miniature heart attacks up in heaven that I just brought a fae to our bedroom. ''
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| − | "It's just... seeing you like this, right now, it makes me want to comfort you. Even if I know that the next time you change you might very well want to take advantage of my body right now, as I stand here alone and undefended. When you express an emotion such as fear, or remorse... it makes me wonder... whether if such emotion can be birthed in you, it might actually be real."
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| − | "It is similar to how I see the Dark Angel," she says -- perhaps more candidly than she ought to. But she cannot stop herself now. "People may fear and despise her, simply for being Abyssal. For being Accursed. But I have seen, and verified, the guilt that festers in her, the self-loathing that drove her to become what others hated in her. Knowing that, I could not hate her. Even if she slayed an innocent child before me. I would weep for the child... but I would weep for her as well. For having allowed her hate to overcome the part of her that wanted to be loved."
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| − | Ryshassa shakes her head, sighs again. "But you are probably right. You are not mortal. You are Fae. You are Wyld. You will change. At least then, maybe, you will not be so afraid or hateful of your nature as a predator."
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| − | Her eyes are so sad.
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| − | Still, she lets a wistful smile show, as she looks at Days in the dress. "It's a softer look. I think it looks lovely with your hair," she comments gently. "But really... it is up to you to decide." ''How you want to look. How you want to be. ''
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "That is the great dilemma. Being a predator of men... but the prey of God-kissed. We walk a thin line, those that dare Creation. For all our tricks, for all our power... the Chosen have many ways of dealing with us. We did nearly obliterate Creation, after all." Days... doesn't smile at the compliment, although it looks like she wants to, badly. "As for my emotions..." She trails, looking at her feet.
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| − | "Raksha emotions can be real... but those emotions are dangerou things, for they carry us almost as hard as the Chosen themselves. They can be our salvation and our undoing... most often the latter. While I didn't fight my need to be a champion... there is one thing that I do fight. You see..."
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| − | For a moment Ryshassa sees, hovering before Days' chest, a flickering image of a brass-bound scroll, numerous locks and bindings wrapped tightly around it. "We are things of Oath, and death is less terrible than to be trapped in servitude, to have our will consumed. I have found that there is a terrible shackle that many afflict on themselves."
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| − | She hesitates. Ryshassa feels it, so she might not accept her words... but not it's too late. She needs to speak, and speak truth.
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| − | "I decided, long ago, that I could accept pledging fealty... for a hero has a lord. I could accept Oaths to soothe the soul, as I have with Kanti. But there is one pact I refuse, for I have seen the terrible things it does. Attachment, passion... love. It is the greatest, most enjoyable shackle of them all. I am bound enough. I have no need for that emotion."
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| − | ''There. It is said. May Heaven have no mercy on me. ''
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa seems to take this revelation with a straight face, all things considered. After all Days had just admitted she has no need for love. Yet Ryshassa loves... wants to love everyone, as a healer, as a caretaker... and most of all, is bound surely and willingly by her marriage to Alexsei.
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| − | "I can understand that. That is how you live. That is how you are. You are ultimately alien to me... just as the devotion I have for my husband --" she extends her hand, the wedding ring glittering there, orichalcum and soulsteel embraced "-- must be for you. I can accept we are different. Besides, there are mortals as well who eschew love."
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| − | "But so long as I accept your differences I hope you can accept mine, and not hope to change me." Her hand closes protectively, the one with the ring on it. "It would be a violation."
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| − | "What about Fiona, though? Do you not feel any affection for her?"
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "I wouldn't dare change you... you are perfect as you are. I could not, anyway. I... have seen the Sun's might. It is terrible and awesome, and I do not wish to be on the wrong end of heavenly retribution." She pauses mid-word, upon hearing Fiona's name. Her expression... falls.
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| − | "If I were in better shape, I would like to bed her. And... I admit I have been devoted to her as of recent, but only because she may have the answers I need to complete myself... I..."
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| − | ''Admit it. Accept it. You do no good hiding from your true self. ''
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| − | "No... no, I do not feel affection. Kinship, perhaps... respect. But I won't attach myself to her so. She deserves much better. She deserves something real."
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| − | '''Ryshassa:''' Ryshassa nods slowly. "Fiona is a smart girl, though. I don't think you would hurt her... too much. She knows about the nature of fae. She will accept it, I think, when you want to go."
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| − | "It is a danger for you to live among us Chosen at all, is it not? Prince Alexander has set an unusual standard by allowing you into our Circle. I still want to call you an ally while you are with us, though. While you do not hurt our betray our number, I would do you no harm as well."
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| − | "You are who you are. I will do my best not to hope you would become more. That would only be lying to myself... and an injustice to you, Fair One."
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| − | "Perhaps the inner conflict you have now is merely a reflection of your nature. You are a hero, and a hunter. Perhaps the paradox that lies between them is just part of what it means to be you."
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "I am who I am..." Days curls up, hugging her knees as she rolls those words around in her head. "... I am who I am. I wonder about that sometimes." Monkey... pauses, half-looking at Ryshassa. "Do you remember what it felt like when you were first brought into this world? I do."
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| − | She looks at the writhing crystalline brace on her right arm, almost longingly. "I was, for a moment, every person in Creation. And then... slowly, thoughts were pruned away. Emotions cropped, hopes and dreams peeled off. Soon... I was myself. But that is one of the great lies of the fair. We are a blend of what we see from Creation. Mortal ideas are easy to copy... but nigh-impossible for us to create. The Wyld itself can only imitate, not create. So we imitate the one thing that, at our core, we hate and fear and hunger for. It's... a strange relationship. Some accept it, some hate it so that they wish to hide from it, or destroy the source, or drown it in madness and blood. I..."
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| − | Another pause, longer than the first. "Sometimes I admire this place. Sometimes I wish it would just accept me for what I am. Sometimes I hate it so much I want to tear my hair out. But... I stated to Iron Tears a long time ago that I would die to defend this dry place. And I would... because without it, I cannot '''feel'''. Ennui would kill me first if Creation fell to nothing..." She trails off, her thoughts so random and jumbled... perhaps some of the Bedlam-madness taking its toll on her mind. "... I envy you. I envy all of you, sometimes."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa isn't sure whether to feel sympathy for Days or to... simply accept, as she had herself advised, that this is the way of fae. "I cannot say I remember my birth, no... I only remember... vaguely, my first years of life. They were... not pleasant. Yet at some points, filled with such beauty and inspiring moments that it makes the rest worth experiencing."
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| − | She sits on the bed, next to the red dress Days never tried, arranging it absently, admiring its shape and color. "So you cannot exist without us? A... dependent relationship, then. Sometimes you might want to destroy that which you depend on, and in doing so destroy yourself... the farce of what you call life. Is that why the fae attacked Creation so many centuries ago?"
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| − | "I wonder, would you prefer to destroy us, or become us?" Ryshy cannot comprehend what it means not to feel. Her first thought is that it would be the greatest bliss -- to be free of pain and worry. But even bliss would mean nothing, if you could feel nothing. To neither enjoy nor to despise. It would be the end of what makes life worth living.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "... I would..."
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| − | ''YOU ARE THE CHILD OF WYLD DAYS! ''
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| − | "... I... would..."
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| − | '''''YOU ARE RAKSHA! '''''
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| − | "I... would... w-well..."
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| − | '''''DO NOT EVER DARE TO DENY WHAT YOU ARE! '''''
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| − | Days closes her eyes tightly, and her fingers start to dig into her calves... deeply, to the point where fingers pierce flesh with sickening pops. "I... would be lying to myself if I said that I didn't want to be able to walk Creation without it feeling like it wanted to crush me. And... I would be lying to myself to believe it wound be possible. I am Wyld. There is nothing I know of that can change this, not even the ignorant Incarna themselves. I hate that the Sun and Moon and Stars shines so on you all, and the Earth embraces you with every step you take. And yet... I know that beyond the wall of shape, there is my home. My Marches. Where I can cast off shape and be like unto a queen.... the Chapel. I would like to take you all there sometime. It is a lovely place... ice and majesty, and there I am a ruler of many... there I belong. There I matter." ''... when Festival is not in control. ''
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| − | Days trails off, closing her eyes in a too-late attempt to fight back tears. "... I want to go home, Ryshassa. If only for a little while, even if my father wishes me dead or worse. I miss the Airs of Virtue... the parties... my allies and storymates... I miss being a god amongst gods..." At the end, she speaks in a whisper, wiping at her eyes and trying not to look Ryshy's way, far too embarrased to dare eye contact.
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "I'm sorry..." Ryshassa says sincerely. She wants to hold the girl. Fae or not... she is drawn to suffering, not to perpetuate it but to soothe it, to bring it far, far away. "I know it is futile to tell you it can get better... I do not like to give false hopes, as well. So long as you desire to walk on Creation the way its denizens do, the way we Exalts can, you will always feel at least a little pang of... jealousy. Of longing."
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| − | She rises again, the folds of her currently pale yellow kimono rearranging themselves as she moves, the cloth embroidered with lotus blooms in white set into nests of dark green leaves. Kneeling before Days, the healer reaches out... and touches the dress she wears, adjusting it so that it falls more neatly to her knees, smoothing down the circular collar. Letting her become used to her touch, not wanting to frighten her... then... downward... past the fabric... touching the Fair One's hands, drawing them gently away from her calves.
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| − | Healing is instinct for her. Mere seconds, and Days' flesh is whole, the holes knit cleanly shut. Ryshassa lets out a soft, shuddering breath, almost but not quite erotic, as she accepts the pain.
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| − | | |
| − | "But you did say you have a place," she continues, still holding Days' hands, "and you should hold that close to your heart. Your home may not be with us, but we will accept you so long as you wish to remain among us. Perhaps you can go home for some time, as you wished? Perhaps the sight of these things you miss would revitalize you? Your ...father, if he has a quarrel with you, you will have to face him eventually..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' ''... you enjoy... suffering? '' Monkey... boggles quietly, looking at Ryshassa, catching the hint in breath and appearance. She knows of many raksha who take great pride in how much pain they can take, but none seemed to enjoy the actual act. Before her, however, was a woman gentle and kind... who swallowed her wounds and accepted their aching into her without pause. A healer... perhaps more? Maybe there was a hint of the woman's true self in that exhale---Monkey couldn't help but open her Cup to the airs of emotion swirling around Ryshassa, taking a deep, famished breath and letting it all digest.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I have a place. And... I have a father. And it will end with one of us dead. There is no other way around it. I would prefer one of you destroy him, so as to rid the world of such a cold beast... but my battle is mine, and I should face him. Still... yes. The Wyld is home... I should go there soon. Or at least to the zone here in Spire... I miss shaping so much..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | By then, she noticed Ryshassa's hands on her own, and it takes a moment for her to realize what another, prouder, more courageous Days would have done... and would be doing. "... so I have to live with being a walking contradiction. I... I can accept my fate."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Exalt she may be, but Ryshassa is almost ''too'' vulnerable, kneeling there, her hands holding Days' with such innocence and deep desire to help. A bastion of Compassion... it is what she lives for, to help others. Because without it she would have no worth.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "If not for the war, I think, there would be more than one who would spare the help for you against your father... But if you wanted it to be your fight, alone, it is a desire to be respected." Ryshassa nods, smiling up from her prostrate position, short enough that her head is level with Days' chest.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I am happy for you, if accepting you are as you are will bring you some peace. It is saddening to see you so fearful. It brings out, for me... for some of us... an instinct to protect. Yet I can tell you are a proud individual, a heroine, a figure around which stories revolve. You are not meant to be so meek... you should walk proudly, that you dare to make your mark in Creation."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "No... I'm not. But... the way our Graces function... think of them as wells." Monkey cups her hands slowly. "They are filled with the Airs of Virtue... but when you dip into one to give your actions strength, the water does not come back readily. And a terrible, terrible beast lurks at the bottom of each. The one beneath Valor's ripples is Meekness. Cowardice. Fear. It will remain... until my madness harms me or grinds my spirit low enough times. Then the beast will drown again, and the path begins anew. Even then..." Days pauses, uncupping her hands and just looking at Ryshassa. "... heroism... the acts of a champion, are my drug, my desire, my Lure into depleting that well. When the time comes, I cannot resist dipping into it... so this may occur again. And again. And again. I can try to mitigate it, but..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Silence. Awkward, embarrased silence. "... we fae are mad, after all."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "Perhaps you are mad..." Ryshassa stands, taking a step back so Days can see her. She is all dark hair and pale skin and cloth of pale sunlight and lotus blooms. "Some have called us Sunchosen mad, as well. And have slain us for such."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "But... do you fear me, now? It is far from my desire to startle you... or to have forced you into spending time with me. Or trying these dresses for me." The healer ducks her head in brief embarrassment, several locks of smooth black hair swinging forward from her shoulders as she does.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I wish I could help you, truly," she continues almost longingly, when she's straightened again. "Talking like this will not remove the meekness you now suffer. Still, I hope I have helped you unburden your concerns, a little..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Mmmmm." Monkey looks at the woman before her, beautiful in the manner than mortals are, and clad quite finely... and she finds herself looking down at her own frame, slight and boyish, then touching the almost mane-like wave of hair sweeping away from her head. Even in this childish shape, she is disturbingly appealing, the perfect vision of a tomboy ready to fight and frolic with the boys almost as if she were male herself. Still, those brass eyes of hers convey a kind of sadness as she traces a finger down her arm, along the tattoo-like brass inlays swirling along her skin, part of her flesh.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "You are being... a friend. I do not have many of those, and for good reason. I do not even really recommend it stay this way... but thank you, still. I feel a little better..." Her eyes cast back up at Ryshassa. "... I fear the power within you. I have seen what it can do. I know what it is capable of. And still I know you are a vessel for this power. The chosen of a god. I fear it... not you. I at least know you are something I can understand... I will never understand spirits."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' ... suddenly, a great butterfly, trailing faerie-dust the color of dawn's light over green leaves flies into the room. Its wings are translucid, colors ranging from violet to the brightest burning red. Its body is beautiful, as beautiful as an insect can be, its color a deep golden... as it flies on the room, beggining to circle around the Monkey...
| |
| − | | |
| − | ... and landing on her head, and as if it relaxed, flapping its wings slowly...
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "I hope you will allow me to decide when I ought not to be your friend," Ryshassa says, still smiling. "I have heard your warning and I will heed it, when the time comes." It ''will'' sadden her. But she will always take the risk, while there is still the possibility that she can give and have her care received.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I am joyful I could provide you with some relief, at least. I could not harm you, even if it is to help... it is... too distasteful. I could force myself to, but I would hate it. Very much. I have never even used this power you so fear to harm another... not as far as I can remember..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''And it has not been long, really. Five, six years... no more than that, since I fled the Realm as a Solar... ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | The appearance of the butterfly makes her laugh, a bit startled, as it is not even her own, though butterflies are in her anima as well.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Monkey was about to reply... and can only do what a Bedlaming raksha can do when something unexpected lands on her head when she'd not even noticed it was in the room to begin with.
| |
| − | | |
| − | She screeches, turns in a random direction, and bolts.
| |
| − | | |
| − | The wall in her way, however, protests her course of action, and Monkey hits it hard enough to put a rather large crater into its surface, bouncing off and holding a hand to her head as she whimpers pathetically, all the fear rushing back into her.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "Oh no!" Ryshassa gasps, hastening over to Days as she lifts up the hem of her kimono... "You hurt yourself again..." Already she aches, to take that pain away as well.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Don't worry, I think it is Fiona... It seems like her, anyway... You should be happy to see her!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | The healer pauses, almost feeling foolish. "...you are here somewhere, aren't you Fiona?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' Then, a butterfly mask appears on the door, and a young Solar looks in... smiling. "Ryshy? Is Days he..." and then she notices Days. And then she screeches. And then Fiona winces.
| |
| − | | |
| − | And tries very, ''very'' hard not to laugh.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Yes, I am! Sorry... my locating spell scared you, Days...?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | She says nothing yet, but Ryshassa can see her looking at the dress Days is in, admiring and puzzling over it...
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Mmmmmmmmmnnnnn." It's almost a whine, Days not quite rising from her spot on the floor. To be seen like this by her creator is so... so... so '''embarrasing'''. No, she must be strong. She much fight it, try to control herself. Control. Fight.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Sorry... I'll not do that again, Fiona..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "Oh, well..." Ryshassa blushes a bit, inclining her head to Fiona, "I just 'borrowed' Days a bit, to try on some pretty clothing I'd found..." Besides the lavender one-piece Monkey wears now, there are also the two on the bed, ornate red and elegant blue, and crumpled nearby, the pants/halter top/jacket combination Days had tried before that.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I just thought her old clothes just didn't fit her new form... so..." A giggle escapes her; she's a little embarrassed to be caught playing 'dress-up' with Days. "I'm not sure if Days likes it though... do you? Or any of the others I showed you?" she asks curiously.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' She giggles a little at Monkey, hand over her lips, finding it hard not to do so...
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''But, but, she is hurt! ''<br>
| |
| − | ''But... it was so funny... ''<br>
| |
| − | ''Fiona, you are a terrible, terrible woman. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | But then she looks at the dresses, and her mirth and guilt is replaced by... fascination! Now clad in her dress from the Boil - the dark green cape and the champagne dress - and already feeling like her wardrobe is to limited, to see all that was, like... wonders. "Ryshy... those are so ''pretty! '' You really found a nice one for Monkey... lavender looks ''great'' with her white hair!" She says, rushing to Monkey and petting her hair, running a hand to feel the dress' fabric... "Ryshy, why are you talking like that? As if apologizing? This is ''great! '' You have such a fashion sense..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Monkey can do little more than whine again, still a bit too upset to move from her spot... although she does peek up at Fiona for a moment, between splayed fingers. The giggling just makes her sulk, but she does her best to hide it. ''I look like such a coward.... when will this end? ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa rests a hand atop Days' head, briefly... the bump is quickly gone, replaced with a faint splotch of bruise on the healer's forehead. Already, as soon as it appears, it begins to fade subtly around the edges.
| |
| − | | |
| − | That done she turns back to Fiona, still blushing... "Oh... Fiona... thank you! I just love dressing up... myself, or others! But you could probably tell that," she says shyly, looking down at her kimono. One of her many kimono.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I found some of these dresses in the Palace, actually... they're so pretty and feminine..." Some of the happily fashion-obsessed mood returns, as Ryshy's eyes sparkle excitedly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' ... and Fiona's spark in kind. "Ooo... they are... they are..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Fiona's eyes stray to the red one... and she looks to one side... and then another, as if she was feeling guilty of something, afraid someone would catch her saying something wrong... but mostly, so she could feel free to say it to healer, her voice with all the excitement of one about to do something so delightful it ought to be sinful, it ought to be forbidden... and that thing is... "... can I... can I try one?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "... they're just clothes."
| |
| − | | |
| − | The pain gone and the fear receding some, Monkey speaks plainly... then glances back down at her own outfit.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''How can women wear these! They're so... so... so... frilly! If I had my way, each and every one of them would be wearing a thong and a smile. Hrm... maybe a litle bowtie around their throat... mmmm... ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | For some reason, Monkey starts to giggle, tail wagging... happily?
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: '''Ryshassa laughs, and nods vigorously, "Of ''course'' you can! Like I said, they aren't mine, either... you might as well!" She encourages Fiona, almost hastening her over to the dress herself!
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Yes they're just clothes... beautiful, luxurious, colorful, fun clothes!" Having found a fellow dress-enthusiast, Ryshy is fairly singing with enthusiasm once more.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' "''Yay! ''" She says, gushing, rushing to the red dress, picking it and looking over to see a mirror, to see if it would look good over her before she tried dressing... and then, she sees monkey's tail waggling... ''so... cute... '' and her smile broadens. "See? You are starting to enjoy it too, Days! You should try the blue one, while I try the red one!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "I... guess I could. Just for you, just this once." She wastes little time in wiggling out of the clothes she's wearing, and carefully pads over to the bed, picking up the red affair and giving it a look. "... mmmmn. So used to gossamer. Even silk feels rough on the skin..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa gives Days a look-over... wondering if it's really that... the Fair One sure seemed to protest at first when she mentioned the dresses...
| |
| − | | |
| − | But that's not about to burst her bubble. She almost dances over to her armoire... to pull out the dress she'd stashed away there. "I'll try too," she says eagerly, pulling out the dress that had been her favorite... lavender and black with violet... shorter than what she usually wore in public, but so pretty~!
| |
| − | | |
| − | Turning her back -- partially hidden by the armoire door -- she begins to undo the knot on her obi, humming to herself.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' Fiona walks - nearly jumping - to stand in front of the full-length mirror in Ryshassa's room, placing the ornate red one-piece in front of her, moving a bit to one side... a bit to the other... seeing it over her in all angles before she unlocks her eyes-shaped brooches, letting the dark green cape fall to the ground... and begins to wiggle out of her dress. Dress half-fallen out of her, she looks over to Ryshy on the mirror... "It is very good, gossamer... but it is not ''all'' that, really! I mean... I do use that pearl dress Days gave me alot for a reason, but I think Days just has to get used to Creation's clothing..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "And we will help in that, won't we?" She says with a smug grin, as the dress falls to the floor, leaving her only in bra and panties, small roses in the trimming of her cute underwear, a slim body between child and woman in front of herself in the mirror, as she admires herself... and pouts a little she is not as developed as the healer.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: '''"Don't feel bad. I'm smaller."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Monkey grins, a little... a glimmer of her old self shining through the darkness... and then she simply gets dressed again without much fanfare... it's obvious that she's so used to clothes that don't really rip, what with the quickness and nigh-ferocity with which she dresses herself. "And Fiona! Gossamer is a beautiful thing! It is the building block of dreams and hopes... I should make you two a dress sometime, when I'm more... ah... stable. Yes."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Monkey glances down at herself, sighing. "Hate this."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' The young twilight's face blushes to a deep red as the Child speaks, and she looks down, hoping her hair will hide her face, now, ''really'' not wishing to see Ryshassa's face, if she noticed it like Days did, if she understood... ''Days noticed, how could she notice, I only thought it, I was not staring, I thought I wasn't staring, I was '''sure''' I wasn't staring... ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa is... perhaps simply by force of habit... shy about disrobing, even around girls. Especially when one of them... used to be male! and is a fae! So she makes quick work of it... she lets the pale yellow fabric of her kimono slip away, leaving her bare but for her lacy rose-shaded underthings, and slips into the dress she has chosen -- missing Fiona's glance, though hearing her words.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I've never even worn anything made of gossamer... though the dresses one finds in the Palace are of exceptional construction, and my kimono, well... most if not all of those, my husband has brought me from Heaven." And perhaps he would bring her more -- of course he would! Alexsei has never failed to do so before.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Some moments after Ryshy emerges from the cover of the wardrobe, to stand at the mirror beside Fiona. Her dress is a two piece -- the top a lavender blouse buttoned up with pearl white buttons, with short somewhat puff-rounded sleeves, and a ruffled neckline curving somewhat low, not quite to breast level but showing the neck and collarbones thoroughly. The skirt is black cotton with violet lace trimming; it is also part bodice, rising from the fitted waist but stopping just below the curve of the breasts. Straps run up either side from the bodice part to secure it around either shoulder.
| |
| − | | |
| − | If anything, the clothes she wears now accentuates the chest even more -- but Ryshassa ''seems'' to not have noticed anything about the topic at hand. She just smiles... spreading the skirt she wears, which falls just above knee height on her... "You both look lovely," she says genuinely, if shyly. "Even if you hate it."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Hate is... a bit strong. I'm used to more functional attire. I guess it's... a habit? I fight, and dressed tend to get in the way... or be distracting." Even in a dress, she completely fails to show it off properly, in her now-common four-point crouch. On top of that, her tails seems to dislike being covered so, and twitches mightily underneath the skirt. like some kind of living thing.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I will admit, it's pretty. Just not quite my taste..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' First the knee length, full skirt in deep red with a band of lace at the bottom edge pinned every now and then with small black bows. Even among girls, she felt she had to cover her modesty first, after all! Before doning the matching bodice with square-shaped neck, a red brocade depicting a stylized tulip design. Then the White blouse, subtly ruffled, to wear under the bodice, the collar like a flower opening up at the neck, her warm amber brown hair falling over it, strands like branches of a tree providing shadow for the flower... and the black bow pinned right at the throat seeming so out of place in front of sught a brilliant child of the sun.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Finally, she looks at the mirror... not resisting to glance at Ryshassa, to admire the older woman, and even her... ample bosom, compared to the little girl, before she does a little twirl... "And now? Do I still look lovely in it?" She asks, tentatively...
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "Well, that is understandable, Days. My sister was like that, too. She so hated to go to formal functions if she couldn't get away with wearing pants!" Ryshassa giggles wistfully, remembering that... remembering her younger sister, Atmadja. Who could very well be her enemy now, if they met again.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Saddened somewhat, she instead turns to Fiona, who has by now dressed fully -- "Yes, you do! It's beautiful on you! Red suits you just as well as green," Ryshassa says, smiling broadly. Fiona IS a pretty girl; Ryshy can only imagine what she herself looked like at that age, but she might have envied Fiona then.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Well, Days, if you hate dresses so much, would you like to wear the first outfit at least? Then you and Fiona will both have red..." she suggests, happy enough she got Days in a dress at all!
| |
| − |
| |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' She smiles, so happy to be complimented like this by Ryshassa... remembering the days before, with Queen Adrianna, Millia, Carina... but there was something else, a little bit of kinship there... between her and the Monkey, as she felt her existence within her, within the door of her mind that led to Glitter and Dust... and between her and Ryshassa, due to their power, their existence, and faint traces of memories..."What is your taste then, Days? You are a girl, and if not dresses, then something, but you will learn to dress well!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | She says it as a ultimatum, pointing at the monkey... before she realises it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | And full of the curiosity that led a little girl into tombs, ancestral secrets and the strongest of sorceries, she turns to Ryshassa...
| |
| − | | |
| − | "... sister?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa nods to Fiona, almost surprised at the interest apparent in her voice. "Yes, my younger sister, Atmadja... I left her behind, back in the Realm. I don't think she even understood what was happening, really. Alexsei just... whisked me away, before questions could be asked."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "It was for the best, I think." The healer gives a quiet, somewhat sorrowful smile, as she looks gazes at the three of them in the mirror... Fiona in crimson, she in purples and Days, crouched uncomfortably, in blue. "I never ...assimilated well, into Realm culture. And given what I've become I would not have survived long there, whether my sister would have accepted my Exaltation or not."
| |
| − | | |
| − | It is a question Ryshassa has asked herself often. Would Atmadja have still shown kindness to her, knowing that she has become Anathema? Would she have kept the kinship and protectiveness she built up as a child for her gentle-hearted, unambitious elder sister?
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I wonder if we will meet again as enemies, one day. That would break my heart," Ryshassa admits softly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: '''"Life is pain."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Monkey looks into the mirror ahead, not so much at the others' reflection... but instead at her own. "A raksha told me that once. He liked to torment people by taking what they cared for the most. But he also said that mortals didn't live to their fullest unless they felt one of four things. Agony, love, acceptance and sorrow. He wanted agony and sorrow... said it was a bitter taste he enjoyed. It's... not much to comfort you with, but you at least know that if you hurt, you're not dead, outside or in. If... that makes any sense, anyway." Monkey doesn't sound so sure herself, but nods anyway. "... a broken Heart... how different that is for mortal and fae..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' Fiona touches her flower-like collar, adjusting her hair around it... and listening "That is... so sad, Ryshy..." her amber brown hair touched the white petals, and she smoothed the long, deep-red skirt, touching its small bows, making sure she is looking just ''right''... and smiling up at the older Twilight, whose body she was envying so.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Count your blesings, it could be the Dark, Pale or Silver Angels... they have such... bodies. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | She thought with a slight blush, looking at her own chest. And then... back at her curiosity, filtering each and every word from Ryshassa's lips... "She won't, I'm sure... she is your sister. If she loves you, she won't fight with you..." She says. then looks at Days... shivering. ''Monsters'', she thinks. She had known acceptance... before... "What is a broken heart, for the fae? How you are being now...?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Death."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Her comment is simple, yet heavy with dread.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "I like to believe she wouldn't fight me," Ryshassa says wistfully.
| |
| − | | |
| − | She does not consider herself exceptionally beautiful or built, especially not compared to... other company... so it bewilders her why Fiona would be blushing at anything at all. It is enough when people compliment her on her fashion sense... perhaps that is her way of compensating, by dressing well to enhance her beauty.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Not that Ryshassa is at all vain. Self-conscious maybe. But not vain.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Life is pain," Ryshassa agrees. "Pain is what helps us realize we are alive. Pain is what makes joy and comfort so desirable. But I like to think that my work helps to ease the pain of those who have borne too much unfairly. It is... my duty. My pleasure, to bear it for them."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Pleasure..." Monkey looks down at the floor again, knuckles on the ground and tail patting slowly behind her. She seems to be lost in thoughts both good and bad, face scrunching up in a look of disgust for a second, although for some reason her cheeks color faintly. Finally, eyes open and posture relaxes. "I suppose that's what drives us. What pleasures us, what makes us happy. I know that I like..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''To fight. To kill. To plunder. To ravish. To save. To enthrall. To overcome. To seduce. To devour. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | "... many things. We fae are... either very broad in our tastes, or far more narrow than is normally possible."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' "... ah."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Is all Fiona can say.
| |
| − | | |
| − | The young twilight twiddles her thumbs, looking about... around the room, at the mirror on the ceiling...
| |
| − | | |
| − | And then, decides she has to say something.
| |
| − | | |
| − | But Ryshassa does it for her, and she smiles. "Yes, it is pain. I wish it wasn't... that we could live without it. And without the loss... I wish the loss would just... ''stop''." Her eyes seem lost in the distance as she remembers her lost life in Whiteshield... and then back, she shrugs with a little embarassment, changing the topic... "And you have broad tastes? You have said you will try to keep to ''nice'' ones now, right?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "I will try. When I am whole, I can make no promises..." ''And the thought of an Oath scares me even more than failing. '' "... but I will try. For you, Fiona." Monkey finally looks up, almost hopefully, at Fiona---friend, ally, spiritual mother---and hazards a shaky, uneasy smile. In the back of her mind, the broken feeling remains, the fear not having fully pulled itself back into the well of her slowly-filling Courage. Even then... she grins, slyly, a moment of True Monkey shining through.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I know at least one nice thing I need to do, but I'd prefer to show you that in private." Monkey's intent is quite obvious.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "I'm sorry, Fiona... You have lost so much. I am so used to seeing you in high spirits... I had never really thought of it. But you, and Alexander, and... everyone, who had been there in Whiteshield..." Ryshassa shakes her head sadly. "I had seen some of it, when I healed Cedric..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | But she did not want to focus too much on the negative thoughts, and clearly the others were moving on. The healer blushes, hearing the suggestion in Monkey's voice. "Ah... I... can leave, if you want?" she says, trying not to stutter in her embarrassment.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Still, she cannot help but be at least a little curious. "You and Fiona have... I don't know... ever since the two of you returned, you've seem different together."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' "... alright!" She smiles to Days... apparently oblivious to all.
| |
| − | | |
| − | But then, she turns to Ryshassa, the curiosity still on her eyes..."But, but, before you leave... tell me, tell me, you didn't fit well on the Realm? I thought that... being a child of their great culture would be such a wonderful life! They are demanding, but to be with all those libraries... and, and, the ''Heptagram! '' And luxuries, and safety... I wouldn't mind people being demanding. I was so angry at my parents once, for finding it right for me to be just a peasant... when I dreamt of the stars and the world!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Snow Monkey... lets her smile grow... and then settles in to watch Fiona grill Ryshy for information. She was such a curious girl... her blessing, her curse. ''Such is the life of a Sunchild, it seems. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: '''"Parts of it were wonderful, Fiona," Ryshassa begins carefully. "I lived in the East of the island, in Pangu Prefecture. It is so lush and green there. And I was given all the clothes I would want, and beautiful trinkets and things. Pangu was not one of the more populated places, but what palaces were built there were large and grand, part manor part plantation. Wonderful fruits and produce grew there, from Sorcery and from the hands of Wood Aspected... and... and from slaves..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Ryshassa's face is deeply pained -- slavery is a sensitive topic for her. It shames her to admit she had ever been a part of it. "I suppose the price of it was responsibility, and a certain... desire to excel above your peers, for the society of the Realm is one of constant competition. Either you are agressive enough to hold your own, or you are likable enough to have others do it for you -- I was neither."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I saw both great beauty and great corruption in the Realm, and particularly in my family. I was a granddaughter of Cynis Wisel, and thus their livelihood was primarily the trade of slaves. Particularly... slaves for... sexual purposes. It is one thing to hire a servant, who willingly serves, for money or whatever else they hope for. But these people.. they... they were not human in the eyes of the Dynasts. They could be used... they could be experimented upon... they could be tortured or punished as one saw fit."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I saw it all..." Ryshassa takes a long, sad sigh. "Some of the darkest sides of the Dynasty. In their most depraved of parties. I saw... and in time was made to serve..." She swallows, feeling the burn of shame flushing her cheeks a deeper pink. "My parents were not happy with me. They thought me too soft. And ultimately, worthless. So I would be of use to them in another way..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "...and I was... for a time..." Seeming almost worn out from having talked this much about a topic she finds so discomfiting, she crosses to the bed and takes a seat.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' ''Sorrow. Intense sorrow. ''
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| − | | |
| − | Monkey feels a bit ashamed at liking how that feeling 'tastes' in the air, and it shows as she whimpers, looking down at her feet as thoughts of gleefully ravishing Fiona fade into guilt. ''You can't even keep yourself contained... the shining ones are going to destroy you at this rate! Focus! ''
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| − | | |
| − | "If it's any consolation... no matter your past, you've become a pleasant person to be in the company of, lasy Ryshassa."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' It was like seeing the day go by, in the clarity, shadows and colors of earth and sky. First, so bright, filled with dreams and happyness over the descriptions... imagining it, wanting to be part of it... the wonders, the Sorcery, the sights! The ''Realm'', center of Creation, center of culture and civilization! Oh, how she wished to be part of it...
| |
| − | | |
| − | And then... the slaves. The sexual slaves. Her face became somber. Darker. Ryshassa could see the pain there... the pain like the one she would see on other slave's faces as she told of her own plights. The face of someone who ''understands'', who knows exactly... what it means... "House Cynis... not much different from the Abyssals, then. The Vestal... was much like them. There was a Cynis there, too. Mae... ra..." She shivers at the name. A name almost painful to utter.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa smiles faintly, brushing at the lacy violet hem of her skirt, smoothing down the black cotton...
| |
| − | | |
| − | "...It's all right. Thank you, for your understanding, both of you. But it was years ago, for me. The life Alexsei brought me to was a harsher one, in some ways, but also one so much freer. And it has allowed me to meet all of you!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | She turns, and holds Fiona's hands tightly for a moment... not speaking a word... merely holding them. Holding her. Just for a moment, to convey that understanding back, and the compassion that comes with it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "You know..." Fondness creeps into the healer's expression as she steps back, her voice becoming more thoughtful. "The reason why Alexsei brought me so many things from Heaven was because he feared I would miss the beautiful things in the Realm. Gethamane is... quite lacking, after all, in such things. Not like this fabulous palace, or Whiteshield and Windia, where you've kept such things preserved and important."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "When he first took me away, I would not even speak to him. I was completely mute. He brought beauty back into my life, in his own way..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "The Vestal, though... I met her once." Ryshassa adds, almost belatedly. She needs not say more than that, a slight tremor all that she betrays.
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| − | | |
| − | Years ago it was... but so, so very easy to be reminded.
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| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "The Vestal."
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| − | | |
| − | "I have only heard the name in passing now and then... but I am certain that I should dread it." Something in the air? Maybe a memory pulled down with one of my miracles? Could a mere being have that much of an effect on the dreams of Creation? "But... hm. Let's think of better things. I'm starting to feel nervous again... ah..." Monkey does open her mouth, but seems to be at a loss for words, as if what she'd planned to say to lighten the mood decided it needed another mouth to come out of. "... well."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' Fiona finally smiles, her fingers seeking Ryshassa's, feeling the compassion, the warmth...
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| − | | |
| − | "I am... glad, you met someone like him. From the little I've seen of him, he is so... wonderful. Nice..." She smiles... "You are a really lucky woman, Ryshy. Really, really lucky. I bet you can't even wait for him to come back..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "You're right... I miss him dearly. Every day. He will probably need my care when he returns... from what I can feel from here, his master is working him hard..." Ryshassa laughs softly, rubbing the ring on her left hand.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "But yes, perhaps we should change the topic..." she continues quickly -- almost too quickly. She gestures to the dresses... and the pants, jacket and top ensemble too. "Will you be keeping any of them? You should take the dress with you, Fiona! It looks beautiful on you. I... I'm not sure about Days though..." She giggles a bit, thinking the Monkey looks quite a bit disgruntled in her pretty clothes.
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| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "I'll think about it. Keep the red one handy. Maybe one day when I feel like... dressing up, I'll wear it. Until then, I'm sure you'll keep it safe and secure." Monkey is already rather shamelessly pulling the last blue outfit off of herself with a tug of arm, a ripple of faintly-visible muscle, and a few flicks of a tail happy to be free of such a confined space. "Although I really should make you something one day, Ryshassa... you have a fondness for kimonos, yes?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' "I... if I can, I will keep this one, yes!" She says with a twirl... looking very much like a child after receiving a beautiful, beautiful gift that she enjoys so much! Nearly jumping up in delight, but keeping to her feet and property... "I... do I look good in this, really?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Another giggle... "You could tell?" Ryshassa says, not even needing to point to the kimonos filling up her armoire. "I do love them, Days, and... I've yet to have one made of gossamer in my wardrobe, that would be so fascinating!" Again the girlish enthusiasm, when the topic returns to clothing... her eyes shimmer gleefully sunset.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "And really, the both of you are free to take what you wish! Like I said, they're not really mine... I just found them, and thought I'd give a few people choice picks," she says with a wink, then turns to Fiona, beaming...
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Yes, of course you look good! It's stunning on you! Perhaps I have some pins that would match, if you would wear it on a special occasion..."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Days merely nods... and finally does look at herself in the mirror, almost as if for the first time. Snow Monkey proceeds to look... thoughtful, reaching out to touch the mirror right about where her face is. She doesn't say a word for a bit...
| |
| − | | |
| − | "It's strange. To have a body and yet not be the body... even if there's connection. I have a heart that pumps blood, but it's not my Heart. I have a mouth full of teeth, but it's not what I eat with. I am... small, but I have been tall, and immense, and even male." Monkey glances down at her present lack of external genitalia... but smiles for some reason or another. "I have to admit, that did have its fun moments... but still... it's strange, being shaped. To limit myself in order to interact..." Another glance down... and one over at Fiona. "Heh... Fiona? Rhyshassa? Can I ask you both something?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | Days takes a second to collect her thoughts. "What does it feel like... to be real?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' "''Yay! ''" She ''almost'' jumps this time, but still squeals in delight!
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Then I will! Thank you, Ryshassa, thank you so mu..." She is cut short, stopping, looking at Days... and boggling.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "... er... um..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa finds the question more intriguing than bewildering, and she tilts her head, consideringly...
| |
| − | | |
| − | "I... I guess I've never not been real, so it's hard to think of what it would be like if I weren't," she begins slowly, pacing the room in slow, ponderous steps, self-consciously tugging at the skirt of her dress briefly -- it really was short, more towards the things she wore in private, than in public...
| |
| − | | |
| − | "It is a delicate balance of good and bad sensations. Like I said, life is pain. But life is pain because there is also pleasure. Life is sad because there is also happiness. You learn to appreciate why you should hold on so deeply to those good, comforting, beautiful things. Why you should fight to preserve them in every way you can."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Everything that makes you feel good feels so much... more precious, this way. Because you can lose it. Because you can understand what it ''means'' to lose it. And when you do..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "It is almost like dying."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Almost like dying..." Monkey pauses, all of that hitting very close to home. For the longest time, she just looks at herself. "The concept of loss being painful means much to me... let me explain."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Monkey reaches for the mirror... into the mirror, four times into the reflection of herself, removing things... and the reflection reacts, amazingly enough, each time.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Her hand sinks into her reflection's forehead, and withdraws a simple, small brass ring. The reflection blinks, and touches its forehead for a moment.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Her hand sinks into her reflection's breast, reaching to the heart and removing a dagger, brass with a thin metal cutting edge. The reflection protectively covers its chest, looking annoyed.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Her hand sinks into her reflection's belly, right above the navel, and removes with looks like a writing tablet that has a pencil stabbed through it. The reflection winces, and looks down before scowling at the 'real' Monkey.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Finally, her hand sinks into her reflection's more intimate parts of her lower abdomen, drawing forth a surprisingly large ivory tankard that reeks of booze and bananas. The reflection... blushes deeply and seems to almost moan, crossing her legs... and then the reflection is normal again, Monkey holding those four objects in her arms.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "These... are the physical representations of my Essence. Well, most of them. My Heart is far away, and I cannot take it from its resting place, lest Creation crush me. These are more than just objects... they represent the powers of my Graces. To own them is to own a part of me. To own my Heart is to hold me completely under your sway. We raksha fear this more than death in the Wyld. We can shape death away... being made a captive does not vanish when you want it to... and sometimes lasts until you are no more... and even beyond that." Monkey's voice quivers with unease... as if she's speaking of something that terrifies her in ways untold and unimaginable.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' Fiona listens...
| |
| − | | |
| − | To Ryshassa, putting life better than she ever could...
| |
| − | | |
| − | To Days, showing... those things... Fiona reaches, touching the tankard lightly...
| |
| − | | |
| − | "So in the Wyld... they can be stolen? The... your soul? Heart... what are those called, Days?" She asks, in awe, curious, eyes shining... her curiosity, the lore, overpowering the solemnity of their topic. "Is this... I don't suppose you are supposed to show them, right? It is... I guess it is an honor...?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa is... impressed, and a little bit awed, and a little bit... frightened? She certainly could not pull out all that is most precious to her, right out of her reflection, and display it to people, like this.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Your concept of loss is... much more tangible than mine, then. If you could have these... these treasures simply stolen, and lose... part of what makes you you. Or to be enslaved due to their capture..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "It is a terrible loss, to lose yourself that way. I hope that you will never have to feel that, Days." Ryshassa nods, hoping quietly that she will put them away. They seem so... ordinary. Yet she did not dare touch them like Fiona did. She wonders what it might be like for one to touch her like that. Touch that which makes her compassionate, or courageous, or determined.
| |
| − | | |
| − | It would be better to keep such things safely tucked away...
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "It is a risk. In the Wyld, they have to be won in shaping. In Creation... you simply take them." She does flinch a little at Fiona moves in, but doesn't withdraw, instead pointing the objects out to her in order---"Cup, Ring, Staff, Sword."---the tankard, ring, tabler, dagger. Upon closer inspection, Fiona sees something terrifying in the reflection of the dagger. A man... a faerie, terrible and majestic, tearing into a pulsing lump of bleeding flesh with his bare fangs, chewing and swallowing. Suddenly... she realizes who that being is, and what it's eating.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' Fiona sees... the creature...
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''That is horrible... just... who...? Wh... that is... not Days... ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''... that... who... ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | The memory burns in her. It burns deep in her soul. On a moment, she sees herself in that place... at the center of a wheel of ever-moving gold, all the doors... all those open doors. The doors the Virdynn has opened in her mind... each one of them larger than the world. Within one, a portal of Glitter and Dust...
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''''Him'''''
| |
| − | | |
| − | It was her. It was him. He was still her. '''''He was eating her!!! '''''
| |
| − | | |
| − | With a shierk, she jumps back, wide-eyed, falling on Ryshassa, eyes wide, mouth gaping, wide...
| |
| − | | |
| − | "'''''Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo! '''''"
| |
| − | | |
| − | "''Stay away from me! ''" She shrieks, in a voice not her own.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa sees nothing of this, not daring to come too close to them. She'd rather not... not even risk the idea of touching something so much a part of Days...
| |
| − | | |
| − | ...and then...
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Fiona, what's wrong?" Ryshassa asks, wide-eyed with alarm as she holds the girl from behind, trying to soothe her, stroking her forehead with cool, gentle fingers as she screams.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Days, what is this?" Not wanting to accuse. Wanting to understand.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Days seems almost shocked into silence at first... and then she sees the Sword, her broken Valor... and it all makes sense. Immediately she wills her Graces away, and skitters over to Days on hands and feet, apologetically gripping onto Fiona's legs and hugging them tightly. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I forgot! I should've known! You.... you... please forgive me please don't be mad at me please don't punish me please please '''PLEASE''' I'll never bring it out again I promise please don't hate me..." A torrent of almost-insane rambling dissolves into tears as Monkey starts sobbing uncontrollably, unable to even look at Fiona,
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''You've done it again. You've done it again. Stupid monkey, you've done it again. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' "He... that monter... it is a monster..." Her hands hold to Ryshassa's blouse, nails digging on her puffy sleeves, nails digging on Ryshassa's flesh... her eyes wide, remembering her death, remembering... knowing... knowing what that thing made with her. With her body. She coughs, tears streaking down... "Keephimawaykeephimawaykeephimawayfromme..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''''Festival'''''
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' It doesn't quite strike Ryshy that Fiona might be talking about something she saw. It confuses her, particularly since Days is no longer male... and without context she can only soothe Fiona, hold her close.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "It's all right, Fiona. No one will hurt you. I won't let them." It is the voice she adopts when she is soothing the hurt and weary. The voice with which they drop into gentle slumber, or wake into comfortable warmth. The room fills with sunset light, her anima awakening, scintillating stained-glass wings, folding gently to embrace Fiona. Warm... vital... pulsing with light. Healing light. She hums with the rhythm of it, a song like a rainy day spent inside, nestled with loved ones near a fire, in blankets and comfortable sweaters, surrounded by care.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Whatever you saw... it's gone now. Isn't it?" Ryshassa looks at Monkey beneath them, still clinging to Fiona's legs. crying and half mad herself, anything but monstrous in this state. "It's all right... you're safe now."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona: ''' The light washes over her like the most soothing sounds, like the most soothing pool.
| |
| − | | |
| − | The hum relaxes her body, relaxes her mind, relaxes her soul.
| |
| − | | |
| − | She feels like a bird, nested under her mother's wing, and her body relaxes... her hands just holding to Ryshassa... and, eyes close, she makes a soft, content sound of being held like that. Surrounded by care... warmed like she hadn't been since Whiteshield fell. Like she hadn't been even before...
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Yes... it is... thank you, Ryshy... thank you..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | She does not let go, not wanting to leave that warmth so soon...
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "So sorry..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Mere proximity to such an awesome display of Solar might is enough to even quell Days' frightful apologizing, leaving her gently clinging to Fiona's legs, unconciously nuzzling in like a cat gaming for affection after it knocked over some esxpensive vase. "Please forgive me..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa smiles, evidently relieved, letting the wings shimmer away... she doesn't let go of Fiona until she is ready to be, though. It comes so naturally to her, the instinct to mother. The instinct for kindness. Why, then, does she want so much to feel pain?
| |
| − | | |
| − | "And you'll make up with Days, too? I don't think she meant to scare you..." The Solar reaches down, gently, unthreateningly... offering a hand to Days so she can stand with them.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Days quickly, almost gratefully, rises and clings tightly to Ryshassa like a baby bird desperate for her mother's protection. She mutters a smattering of incoherent thanks and things, before going quiet, simply basking in the warmth and kindness of... something real.
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''This... this is what real is. It has to be. ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | ''Can I be real like this, one day? ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | | |
| − | | |
| − | ----
| |
| − | | |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/EighthMovement|Eighth Movement]]
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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