Difference between revisions of "GoldenCat/ObsidianAftermath11"

Revision as of 18:35, 11 August 2006

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Sex, Lies and Gossamer

Gennadi: Night. Blessed dark quiet night. Just the perfect time to sneak off, smoke a cigarette, and lay back to watch the stars flicker in the sky like diamonds on black velvet. Admittedly, it'd be a little better with some selected company, someone with a nice soft lap and reasonable breasts that won't block the important view.

Still, this will do. For now...

Child of Wyld Days: "Those things are bad for you."

Snow Monkey quietly pads closeby, wasting little time in parking his rear not too far from the relaxing Sidereal that he... thinks he's met. Yeah, it has to be him... or is it? Bah, stupid memory, he's usually good with faces.

"Then again, this Boil air's bad for you, the food's bad for you, and being alive is bad for you, so I suppose one more wrong won't make it any worse, eh?"

• Gennadi takes another drag. "I have lots of filthy habits, and enjoy most of them immensely. To stop just wouldn't be me.... and you are?" He raises an eyebrow, looking the newcomer up and down.

Child of Wyld Days: "If I remember correctly..." Days pauses, ears wiggling and tail thumping. "You left me last with a soaked crotch and a earful of interesting words, back when I was taller and slightly more feminine." He flashes a mouthful of pearly whites, leaning back on his hands. "I don't think I ever got your name, though..."

Gennadi: "Darling, you're gonna need to get a bit more specific than that. You'd be surprised how many people that'd describe... Oh. The Fae." He takes another look. "I think I liked the other look better. You're too normal now."

Child of Wyld Days: "Normal is relative. But, yes, this was intentional. Didn't need to spook the locals as much, and I was curious to see if I got different reactions while bearing a penis." He can only smile wider, before looking to the sky. "By the by, you do have a name, yes? I have something I need to give to you, but I'd like to be able to make it that much more personal of a gift."

Gennadi: "Oh, right. Gennadi." He shrugs. "I think you'd get more of a reaction if you were actually carrying a penis around, but that's just me. I can be a bit jaded sometimes."

Child of Wyld Days: "But whose?" Days snickers, then snaps his fingers and sets two things on Gennadi's chest---one is a bottle of liquid that feels rather chilly, even though cloth. The second is something bound in... plain brown paper and rough butcher's twine. Something large and rectangular and slightly heavy. "Anyway, for you. Do enjoy!"

• Gennadi eyes the bottle. "And what's all this? If it's an anniversary of some sort, I didn't get you anything..."

Child of Wyld Days: "Applejack. It's cold, and it should stay cold for all time. It's delicious, try some. And as for the package..." Monkey's eyes twinkle with mischief.

"Open it and see."

Gennadi: "Ah. Remind me to write that on the bottle, since you'll never be able to tell up here..." He sits up a bit to untie the twine, halfway expecting a steak. No doubt fae are somewhat obsessed with solid food outside of the wyld.... it's something they'd never think of otherwise.

Child of Wyld Days: Monkey smiles, watching closely. Within the plain wrapper is...

Hm. They appear to be about sixty or so thin sheets of some indeterminate paper-like substance. Of course, what's on them is what matters more. Each has a near-photographic depiction of acts of the most creative kinds of debauchery that only the Wyld can facilitate on either side. Even the slightest bit of focus on one of the sheets causes the image to begin to animate mastertfully.

"I remember what your touch felt like, so it was all I had to go by!"

• Gennadi blinks. "Well... well." He tiltss his head sideways something like a curious puppy, trying to get the right angle for the first sheet. "I'd ask how, but... I'm not sure I want to know. Pretty." He turns and grins. "Also, I suspect, somewhat unique."

Gennadi: A moment's more thought, and he flicks a cigarette and a match at Days. "Be impolite if I just ran off and ogled these, though. How was your trip? I imagine you're disappointed you miseed the big fight."

Child of Wyld Days: "Unique about sums it up! After all, you're a unique being!" He catches the cancer stick and match, looking at both curiously before lighting up and taking an experimental drag. "... unusual. And yes, I'm immensely upset. The perfect time to show all those high-and-mighty Exalts what the Wyld can do... and instead I come back here to watch the Broken Dragon womanhandle a handful of dead things like a child scatters leaves. Horrible choice in destination, horrible timing." He puffs more, quickly getting the hang of it.

Gennadi: "The nice thing about this particular filthy habit is that it teaches you to appreciate the small things. The difference in crops from one year to another, the local grown stuff against things shipped all across Creation. Slim cigarettes and fat cigars and every so often a carved pipe, all different variations on the same core." He shrugs. "It was nothing special, really. I strangled a behemoth, some shmuck in a metal outfit wouldn't die properly, and there's a couple of enemies left to be cleaned up."

Child of Wyld Days: "... strangling a behemoth warrants more than 'nothing special', friend Gennadi." Envy envy envy ENVY ENVY ENVY "But I suppose you're used to that sort of thing and find it boring and not worth too much of your attention." He takes the half-done cigarette out, looks at it curiously, then promptly sticks it back in, sucks it down and starts chewing on the thing. "... I think I like the taste more when I'm actually eating the tobacco." Snow Monkey snorts out two plumes of smoke as the thing's snuffed out, chewed to bits, then swallowed.

... ENVY.

Gennadi: "Oh, it was worth a lot of attention. It took some planning to do it without a scratch, and my first time too... but I don't think the eternal triumph of the exalted will is anything particularly out of the ordinary." He eyes Days. "They grow tobacco for that, too."

Child of Wyld Days: "So I've heard." Finishing up, he lies back completely, smacking his lips. "To me, it's... alluring. Then again, we Wyld beings can triump as well, and almost have in a few cases, so..."

Gennadi: "If you do, I'll just call you an honorary Exalt and bask in my moral victory." He chuckles. "I'm sure we can find you another terror of a fallen age if you'd like a shot. Make it like a fishing competition, see who can bring in the biggest."

Child of Wyld Days: "I'll break it over my goddamn knee and drag it back to the Boil with my bare hands if I had to. I deserve some recognition, and I will be damned if I don't get it..." He looks over for a moment, pausing. "You're a strange one... and definitely god or Exalt if you tangled with a behemoth. What exactly are you, friend Gennadi?"

Gennadi: "I'm a lover, not a loser. A winner, not a warrior. Not deathknight, not solar, nor moon-mad beast of the fields. No dragon in my blood, though I've had a little dragon in me on occasion." He winks. "There, that should get you most of the way to guessing."

Child of Wyld Days: 'Not of the Dead, not of the Sun, nor the Moon, nor of Blood. That makes you..." It takes a moment, but the miracle assisting his comprehension of Creation-lore kicks in, filling in the blanks for him. "... of the Sky and Stars, Heh, I should have guessed... although now that I know this..." He trails off, looking serious about something as his eyes go skyward again.

Gennadi: "You want my autograph?"

Child of Wyld Days: "Hah, as if! But..." He trails again, then shakes his head. "Naaaaaah... no dream's worth having if you have to ask for help in achieving it." His eyes close, and for a moment he just lies there, still and breathless not unlike a statue.

"I wonder sometimes. Why am I raksha?"

Gennadi: "Because it's better than being ahskar? So far as I know, it's a matter of being created that way. Nobody picks out selected fae for greater power but the fae themselves. If you'rer looking for a greater purpose...I would offer up to entertain me." Another wink and a grin. "About that dream... if you never ask, you'll never know what it's like. Given this gift, I'd think you'd appreciate the shared joy of a team's triumph."

Child of Wyld Days: "There is great pride encoded into my heart. Pride and self-reliance. It's part of who I am... to survive, to overcome, to use the Sword to defend the Cup. It's not easy for me to ask others of things, for such requests come with hooks and shackles. It is difficult enough to be raksha in Creation, where everyone demands oaths. It is worse when you much push yourself deeper into things that you can defy if you so choose, but can have worse consequences than breaking a sworn promise." Days snorts. "I do not like shackles. Freedom, as much of an illusion as it is, is something I cherish and will kill or die for."

"... but mayhaps I will ask, one day."

Gennadi: "Then you have a problem, oh raksha."

"If you cannot escape pride, then you are servant to it. Your freedom is as sure a chain as iron or black-sun's oath."

Child of Wyld Days: Snow Monkey's breath catches in his throat, and he looks at Gennadi sharply, perhaps even angrily... because perhaps the damned Sidereal's right. A few moments of deep breathing... and Days slumps back down onto the rooftops, eyes closed.

"Meh."

Gennadi: "If you want to compete in creation, I'll give you a little secret. Everyone lies, most especially to themselves." He grins. "And that's a truth. Maybe."

Child of Wyld Days: "Hmph! Being decietful is easy. If I wanted the easy route, I would've taken it a long time ago. You're failing to get into the mentality here." Snow Monkey taps at his temple with a finger. "The story much be dramatic, it must be full of highs and lows, it must be full of challenge and triumph and failure and learning. If it is just victory after victory, the hero comes off as... "

Invincible.

"... false. Undeserving."

Gennadi: "If being decietful is easy. Getting away with it, harder. Not only that, but all stories are lies." He waves a hand idly. "All stories are careful crafted words, designed to create a feeling, prove a point, omitting that which would act counter to your aims. Really, if you are so interested in stories, perhaps the Fae are more in thrall to creation that we thought..."

Child of Wyld Days: "Aaaaah, but you see! What is the shame in that kind of lie, hm? I imagine you live something like it every day, shaping your world to fit your means... only instead of words you shape Creation itself. We are not that different, really. A lie is real when enough people believe in it... you can see me, after all, yes? But is this body the real me? Heh, of course now!" Days sits up, grinning. "Even this body is a carefully-crafted bunch of Essence and dreams, made as I want you to see it. But at the core of me is what makes that lie possible... just like the strength of the Exalted that makes all of their lies into truths. Man being able to lift mountains and run without end should not be... but it is! Because the Exalted have crafted this world and themselves into their shared story, and battle every day to control the narrative."

"... as for being enthralled, I'd beg to differ. I'm a worst-case scenario, as it were. Many want this place turned to ash and gossamer. Sometimes I can see why."

Gennadi: "That is being enthralled nonetheless. Creation calls to them, for love or for hate, the strongest point of meaning in their existence. A crusader defines himself by the enemy he fights, after all."

Child of Wyld Days: "Ah, well that is a side-effect of the thousand-times-damned weapon that the Scarlet Bitch used so long ago. Those it did not kill it bound, and that binding has affected us ever since. It's amusing, really, being trapped between Shape and Unshape. Amusing and highly deadly, but amusing nonetheless. Not that you care, of course... your duty lies here, yes?"

Gennadi: "Another advantage of being a lying liar. One can hold many contradictory duties and oaths at once, picking and choosing which to serve at the moment. Not only that, of course I care. While you and your ilk are within Creation, walking in those bodies formed of falsehood, you're as much a part of what we do as people and gods."

"Ugh, thinking of more work on my break." He opens up the applejack and takes a sip, carefully re-wrapping the cards and tucking them into his shirt afterwards.

Child of Wyld Days: "Beh. Oaths." Days rolls his eyes. "At least your kind can break them. And now, now. Not all of us walk within Creation and are of it. There are some who've mastered the ways to remain out of the Eyes of Heaven. I imagine I will have to learn it myself one day, lest I be tampered with more than I like." Days does look at Gen, though. "Pheh, that's not care, that's protecting your personal interests."

Gennadi: "There's a difference?"

Child of Wyld Days: "There is a difference in where the care is directed, my friend." Days flumps back down, looking skyward. "Although... to be honest, I would not like to see Creation fade. I haven't explored it all yet, nor have I had a suitably grand adventure or fifty... and not to mention the countless conquests I have yet to bed! The Shaped World owes me a thousand lifetimes of experiences, and I shall wring every last one out of it before I grow weary and lose my love for this place like all the others." Monkey sighs, almost as if that idea bothers him. "... sometimes it doesn't seem like there's a difference between caring and protecting your things, no."

Gennadi: "You're fun to convince, even if you'll be unconvinced tomorrow."

Child of Wyld Days: "I am only convinced of one thing, and that is that I am the Child of Wyld Days, and raksha. Anything else matters little." He looks over, grinning. "It helps keep you insane, really. They can threaten you with iron, hunt you like a dog and simply close their hearts, but they cannot make you into something that your heart of Hearts decrees you cannot and will not be. It is like this with your kind... you have uncompromising truths as well, deep down."

Gennadi: "They don't have to, you know. They can just change your heart of hearts. The only uncompromising truth is compromise. It is the one thing that Creation has that the Wyld never can, and never will fake. Not definition, but certainty."

Child of Wyld Days: Snow Monkey visible stiffens at that, sits bolt upright and glares at Gennadi. "I cannot and will not be changed my core! It is enough that I have to spew forth oaths to please the dead women and gods, and that I do because otherwise there is no room in this place's story for me. But to suggest that... you shaped things don't, can't, will never understand what truly makes us what we are, even if we wear shape on the outside. You say that certainty does not exist in the Wyld, and perhaps it doesn't... but limitless possiblity does, free to all who dare and not just to selfish blowhard gods who could give ten shits about their underlings so long as the prayers keep flowing. I imagine many of the peasents here would do much better with themselves as nobles... at least their lives would be more interesting."

He remains tense, obviously wounded emotionally.

Gennadi: "You have a contradiction there, oh Fae. If you are Raksha, formed of the wyld and brilliant in your glory, then you have no certainty, and have no rights to cannot and will not." He smiles apologetically. "Really, it is not as if I have conversed with many fae before, so I thought I'd sieze the chance to talk of the most interesting, important things first, rather than simply asking where you get your marvelous toys."

Child of Wyld Days: There's a moment when the Child looks like he's going to burst a semi-imaginary vein... but it all bleeds out---the anger, the frustration, the nagging feeling that the fucking Sidereal is somewhat correct---with a long sigh and shake of his head, hair swishing about. "All that is important to me right now is glory. Glory, conquest, majesty and honor. I have need for little more. Two mortals and a handful of stronger beings is not enough."

A pause.

"Why are you even here? This place is madness, and I imagine most sane mortals would have turned around and gone someplace warmer and safer."

Gennadi: "None of the Exalted are sane, Fae. It's where we get the real power. Besides, I'm enjoying myself, things are going according to plan, and I'm getting paid for it." He waves a hand, and the stars wink back at him. "It's good to be me. You should try it some time, if you can."

Child of Wyld Days: "I do not want to be mortal, or Exalt, or even god."

Days says this with a chilly ease that sounds more fitting coming from an gallowsman executing a loved one. "That would be the first and final denial of myself. I can only be what I am, even if you think it is a cheap imitation of your ways and doings. As for your kind being insane... I am apt to believe this to a point, but the power of madness is more fitting for our kind. You play with strange fires walking down that road."

Gennadi: "Aren't you the one speaking of limitless possibility? If you can only be what you are, then you should aspire higher." He sighs again, another drink of the applejack. "I am being a terrible conversation partner, serving only to poke at your beliefs. Is there something else you'd prefer to consider? I could tell you stories about which starmaidens are dating which starmaidens, of a hell you'll never see, or... I don't know, we could make out or something." He offers the bottle to days. "Drink?"

Child of Wyld Days: "Limitless possiblity... on my terms. Not Creation's. What I am can and will grow. Must grow. I must, for am dance with godchosen, and soon I will begin to lose steps. I will not let myself lag behind merely because Heaven does not know my Name." He doesn't react to the bottle, looking at the cyst binder. "I am not particularly aroused at the moment, and I care little about gods. Hell... heh, Hell is Creation."

Gennadi: "In apology for my words, I'll tell you that's not the way to go. The first secret of dancig is that you don't have to keep up with your partner... your partner has to keep up with you. Dictate the pace, and you need but wait for glory. Hell, by the way, is often much more interesting than Creation. It's like the bastard child of creation and the wyld, as if one great unshaped prince was the heart of all the wyld."

Child of Wyld Days: "I'm not readily willing to believe such a thing is, but I imagine you have seen more than I, as you're certainly older than I am." Monkey cracks a faint smile. "Ah, but there comes the problem of stepping on your partner's toes. I tend to do that alot, and simply because it is my way to keep people wary of me. I imagine this will backfire spectacularly one day, but for now..."

Gennadi: "You should talk to my snow-pure whore. She's from there, and would be most happy to tell you of its wonders."

Child of Wyld Days: "... now that is a concept that I'm certain I've heard and seen before, but I wonder how you fixed things do it." Days cannot help but smile broadly, mental gears already in motion. "Hell, you say..."

Gennadi: "She is a demon courtesan, and yet as near as I can tell, virginal in mind, spirit, and body. She's a priestess, and while I'd like to say for fuck's sake, it really isn't." He shakes his head. "Oh, and if you seduce her, I will find someone to rend your Cup from you and use it as an ashtray."

Child of Wyld Days: "You're no fucking fun."

Whether Days is serious or joking is hard to tell. "Besides, I'm no simp who just wears their goods out in the open... and anyone who tried will learn what is it like to swallow their own legs." Snow Monkey smiles. It is the smile of someone who's done that before and would likely do it again.

Gennadi: "Then we have an understanding. Sort of." He yawns. "Besides, you're wearing your goods pretty out there, Fae. Your loincloth is not clothing anymore..."

Child of Wyld Days: "Hah! Well, that's less of a vital thing and more of an everyday tool, as it were. Besides, I like this new attire. It's comfortable and quite easy to wear, and being that the cold doesn't bother me one but, it doesn't hurt to show off some. I gave myself a grand form, the fixed world should see it all!" Days does not yawn, even when noting Gennadi's. "Heh, sleep. Silly mortals..."

Gennadi: "You should try it sometime. I like to think of it as a necessary handicap."

Child of Wyld Days: "I do. It's dull. I could be doing something else, like rooting around the Boil or fucking one of my charges or something that requires thought. Sleep... beh, not for me." Snow Monkey pauses again, frowning. "... meh."

Gennadi: "Dreams, Fae, dreams. I seem to recall you liking those."

Child of Wyld Days: "Other people's. I don't dream." It's a haunting reply, to say the least.

Gennadi: "Call me when you master it. I think the results would be... interesting."

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