Ted's IC Inbox

[youfool]

These are necessary, I discovered! Any private message to Ted's communicator will go here, if you please, so I may treasure it forever.

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[om_nom_namur]

[There's no warning. No frown, no scrunched brows, not even the attempt to hold it back. Namur lunges forward, throwing his fist across the table, aimed squarely at Ted's jaw. The table, like the rest of the apartment, is not very big, and Namur has long arms.]

Know what, asshole? How 'bout y' don't talk 'bout somethin' y' don't know nothin' 'bout? Slavery's shit! An' I'mma wreck every damn bastard thinks otherwise!

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[youfool]

[Away he goes! Ted nearly flew out of the window he might've entered with. He's rubbing his jaw, sucking in air. That was shocking both physically and mentally! He's just gonna take stock of the situation, for a moment, eyes steadily on Namur.

He should be mad. But it's a hard emotion for The Fool to muster, when he's so used to blissful oblivion. He'd just told his hopes and dreams in the span of ten minutes. All that gravity off his chest left a surplus of levity, and he could only speak from that.]

"Well, I don't know about my salvation, but my parentage is legitimate. Will you spare me for that, then?" [Yep, he's basically goading him into another hit. He'll try the old evade-counterattack, by leaping and jump-kicking him in the head. Should be an easy target.]

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[om_nom_namur]

The hell's that got t' do with anythin'???

[It is an easy target. Namur has a moment's worth of precognitive ability in these situations, so in the midst of his charge, he suddenly stops and twists, grabbing Ted's foot with his hand. He lifts him up high, nearly face to face- only Ted would be upside down.]

The hell kinda person looks another in the eye an' tells 'em slavery's good, huh Ted? Yer parents teach y' that? Yer human god?

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[youfool]

[You know, cause ya called him a damn bastard? If only he could explain jokes in the heat of battle. The Fool became The Hanged Man, seeing Namur from a whole new perspective. He was enjoying this more than sanity permits; he seemed to have tapped into a deep reservoir of moral outrage. He wondered if Namur wasn't a very good person.]

"You're lecturing me about manners, after sucker punching your dinner guest, no less! Who taught you hospitality, Atilla the Hun?"

[Thanks to his flexibility, he can try and clip Namur on his jaw, hopefully making them even.]

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[om_nom_namur]

Sucker punched a damn fool tellin' me my people's better off bein' drug away from their homes an' raped an' beat t' death! [Ted might wish to rethink that punch, though. Namur's teeth are fully bared, and he's feeling rather snappish.]

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[youfool]

[More of a leg man, but that does get him a little out of his violent gaiety. Ted spoke plaintively.]

"I'm sorry, Namur. I had no idea. That's not in the least what I meant; why would you think it was?"

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[om_nom_namur]

[Namur isn't immediately sure how to respond to that, so he grits his teeth, lets go of Ted's foot- yes, with Ted still nearly eight feet in the air- and drops into a restful crouch, elbows on his knees.]

Cuz that's what happens t' slaves. Every slave. Every damn time. 'Less someone comes 'long an' stops it, or they manage t' escape 'fore they're dead.

[He grips his left forearm with his right hand, and if Ted's being observant, he may notice a sliver of tattoo showing below the cuff of Namur's long-sleeved tee.]

Once y' escape y' ain't really free, either, since that makes y' a criminal the world over, an' hell knows what sorta shit y' had t' pull in order t' get 'way. All cuz y' happened t' be born with gills? Whaleshit.

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[youfool]

[When it's talking time, Ted's notice goes out the window. Obviously this isn't the kind of slavery he's talking about, though he is curious. Namely as to who did the enslaving. Humans, presumably; that seems to be the common story. Maybe fishmen themselves?

This seemed to be something particular to his original world. Ted wants to explain himself, but knows that Namur should come first.

He lands with less-than-catlike reflexes, but composes himself, trying to listen sympathetically.]

Is that what you had to do? Escape?

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[om_nom_namur]

[His eyes narrow at first, then he looks confused. He's tempted to deflect the question with a vague something like that answer, but no. That's not a struggle he can claim even by implication. He shakes his head, expression turning to resolute.]

Naw, not me. Lotta people I care 'bout, yeah, they had t' go through some pretty messed up shit, an' I seen 'em doin' lots more t' others.

[He pats his chest with his fingertips. If fire could be made of water, there'd be a tsunami in his eyes.]

I'm the one doin' the stoppin'.

Lotta people got shit t' worry 'bout. Families, jobs, whatever. But that weren't the direction my current flowed, an' I found me a family strong 'nuff t' deal with the armies a the world, so it ain't like there's shit the Celestial Dragons can do t' me. Means I'm in a good position t' bloody up their nose an' take back what they stole. So that's what I done. 'S what I'm always gonna do, no matter where I go. If there's slavery, I'mma do my damnedest t' wreck it.

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[youfool]

[Ted rest his chin on his hand, looking and listening sympathetically. He liked that being a fishman somehow obligated him for water imagery. He wanted to imitate that, for some reason. His monkey nature, perhaps?]

You'd try and take apart the practice no matter what, then? Even if it were accepted by all and sundry? Even if people swore to you up and down not to judge, not to say 'boo' to something that a whole society more or less enjoyed?

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[om_nom_namur]

Then I'mma be the one givin' a shit 'bout the less, cuz it sounds t' me like no one else will.

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[youfool]

[Boy would Namur be surprised to learn that slavery was in vogue in Everglade still. That and necromancy, which of course was the allusion he was making, and exactly the way Ted thought and felt. A universally wrong practice, full of evil for all its participants, willing or not. It was not as conventional as slavery; doubtless Namur would find more allies for his cause than Ted. But otherwise...the comparisons were irresistibly easy. He wondered if Namur caught on to the game.]

[Ted grew a smile, burning fiercely under a cover of courtesy.]

Oh Namur, I could love you like a brother. You are speaking with the same tongue, the same language, but about another subject. How much I hate that even now, for the sake of truth, I might endanger that.

I hope it's apparent that I was not speaking of slavery of the flesh, but of the spirit. You see...I believe, in some form or another, everyone's spirit is enslaved to something. To sin, or nature, or to the self--it hardly matters which, in the end-- on the one hand, and on the other...to righteousness. The latter master is one not many have chosen, imagining themselves "free" in the bondage of the former. With all my heart I should like to put upon them the yoke of God, but it is something they shall have to wear on their own. If they've any freedom, any liberty, it must be used only to give it up to the right One.

And now you see the terrible dilemma. Here you are, fishman after my own heart, and yet I do not know whether our beliefs will make us allies or enemies.

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[om_nom_namur]

[Obviously it wasn't apparent, otherwise Namur wouldn't have slugged him. As it is, part way through Ted's explanation, Namur starts rubbing his face in his hands, then facepalms as Ted finishes.]

That ain't the same thing at all, y' schoolie dumbass! Can't choose yer master if yer a slave. Maybe a servant. Maybe somethin' else, like a fanboy or a monk or some shit. But that's the freedom slaves is deprived. Don't getta choose who breeds on 'em, can't choose who beats 'em or buys 'em at auction. Jus' now yer talkin' 'bout people that's free t' choose what they'll follow, an' it ain't even a thing y' even could force on a person. Might make 'em pretend one way or the other, but y' can't guarantee that someone ain't followin' all yer god's rules jus' t' save their life, catch me?

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[youfool]

[So he was unperturbed. The meaning was inoffensive. There was still hope! Ted spoke with joyful tremble.]

"That's the goodness of my Master; he can always be chosen, no matter how destitute the slave.

So you're saying then, that no matter what the thoughts of The World, you would fight against evil?"

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[om_nom_namur]

Uhhhhh... probly not yer version a evil. Don't give a shit 'bout what anyone else says an' that means I don't really give a shit 'bout someone else's idea a what's good an' what ain't, either. Jus' hate seein' people unable t' make their own decisions or live their lives the way they want, an' I'll fight for that any day.

[Namur leans forward, eyes narrowed curiously.]

Know I'm a pirate, right? Mark I sent y's my brother's jolly roger.

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[youfool]

[If he didn't before, he does now. His face fell at the proud amorality on display. Ted felt utterly betrayed. When Namur leaned forward, Ted wondered if Namur wasn't being better than his philosophy, and offering up his own head as punishment for his treacherous talk.]

[Far be it from Ted to refuse him. His feelings grew cold, then hot, as he contended with the death of the fishman he thought he knew, and the betrayal of the one now. With life-fiber speed, he thrust out his legs and swung upwards, striking at the proffered chin, just where Ted was hit, and transitioning from his sitting position to a standing one, body bent forward with indignation.]

That almost makes us even! God help you if you're not a liar! What the hell was that just then, Namur? I so much as mentioned slavery and you were ready to Crusade with the best of them, denouncing with zealous fervor! Now you have the gall to sit here and say you don't care about right and wrong, except whatever milk-and-water pabulum you've made for yourself. You don't have the right to be angry; not half so much as I do! Where do you get off making me think you actually had a conscience? [So hurt, so disappointed. And in the heat of the moment, Ted wanted to hurt in kind. He wanted to see the fire that had made even a pirate, for one glorious moment, speak out with the light of the prophets who condemned the world.]

Slavery's too good for you!

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[om_nom_namur]

[Namur surges forward, slamming his head into Ted's gut and driving him into the wall, then takes a few steps back. Guy's fast, he'll have to remember that. Namur turns his body slightly, facing Ted with his right hand raised, but otherwise he looks relaxed.]

Everbody's got a conscience, dumbass. Jus' cuz mine don't line up 'zactly with yers don't make me less of a person. The hell's yer deal, anyway? Could love y' like a brother, y' says, but the second y' hear somethin' y' don't like y' turn on me, eh? Some shitty brother y'd a made!

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[youfool]

[He sure does find himself against walls a lot. Something desperate and poetic about that. The nice thing about walls is the way they let one rebound and, say, deliver righteous jump kicks, which he'd do presently.]

" 'Doesn't line up exactly'? 'Something I don't like'? Must you water down everything! Now I see why God despises the lukewarm above all others!"

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[om_nom_namur]

[Namur lowers his head, then disappears.

Or seems to.

The fancy super suit might help Ted track his movement as he darts faster than vision, dropping into a crouch under the flying jump kick and forward, spinning with his elbow out to catch Ted from behind. That should hopefully break up Ted's momentum, and just to make sure he goes crashing to the ground, Namur rushes forward, having turned completely, and grapples the young man so they'll land in a heap, fishman on top. It all happens in a fraction of a second, so fast that a normal person would have seen Ted leap and then the two on the ground, and wonder if and when they had blinked.]

Thrive in water, so sure. But listen up, man. Yer fixin' t' make a big mistake. Ain't gettin' all heated up cuz I don't wanna kill y' over somethin' so dumb as havin' a differnt opinion. Don't mind a good scuffle now an' then but both sides gotta have cold water in their gills, aye? One a us starts suckin' in heat then shit gets deeper'n either a us means t' go an' that's how "unfortunate accidents" happen. Got me seein' red earlier but it was a misunderstandin', an' that's fine. Now's yer turn t' stop an' think, 'stead a actin' like some judgmental bastard an' pushin' 'way someone y' might wanna keep 'round as an ally, catch my drift?

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[youfool]

[That's humiliating. Both Ted's body and spirit were heavy-laden. He briefly gave a thought to simply pushing off and putting them both through the ceiling, but that would be rude to the other tenants. He wanted to talk? Ted's favorite past-time, or would be if he had happier things to say. He's surprisingly eloquent underneath however many pounds of fish.]

"There it is again; as if philosophy were frivolous. What on earth does being an 'ally' mean if it does not mean banding together for the same cause? As if viewing the entire universe differently meant nothing!"

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[om_nom_namur]

Cuz if y' got shit that overlaps then there ain't no reason y' can't work for it side by side. Duh! Ain't never gonna find someone thinks 'zactly the same as y' do, so yer better off makin' friends outta the overlaps 'stead a enemies outta everyone.

[Namur sits up a little, indeed surprised that Ted is able to say as much as he did without gasping. There's something weird going on. Namur discretely sniffs at him. Maybe Ted isn't as human as he claims to be.]

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[youfool]

[Depending on the sensitivty of Namur's sniffer, he might make out that Ted's clothes aren't the usual. Cotton, polyester, life fibers. Though just how alive they are is a matter of some debate; a symbiotic organism with a very slight hint of parasitim. But even this one came from an archway, whose denizens are completely soulless. Not that Ted's very clear on whether they had souls to begin with. Or maybe Ted's just used to talking a lot, even with a little air.]

[Ted waned. He hated it when people preached practicality. Even when they were right, they were enervating. Now Ted's too tired to be tactful, and so came to merely saying everything.]

"...I want more than that.

You helped my city simply because I asked. You gave me a nickname. You invited me into your home to eat and talk and divulge dreams. Best of all, you burned with enough righteous indignation to boil the sea. All rare and precious as buried treasure. Then you go and say a thing like that. You show me nothing but gold, then, like the worst pirate, you lock it up and throw it overboard to the bottom of the ocean. Who wouldn't be incensed after that bait-and-switch? Who's turned on who?" [Ted had no idea what to do with Namur. He came so close. And now he...what, should be content to make strategic alliances? Be satisfied with strange bedfellows? It wasn't good enough. So little was. And yet...]

"Why, then, do I still like you, Namur? Why, after being such an ass, do I still believe you're decent?"

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[om_nom_namur]

[Namur smirks, rolls over, and flops back against Ted's thorax, hands propped behind his head. It should at least be a little more comfortable, if for no other reason than it isn't an active, aggressive pin.]

Hell if I know what's in yer head, man. Taste emotions comin' off people so sometimes I know what they's feelin' better'n they do, but that don't tell me what's in their head. Ain't a mind reader.

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[youfool]

[Ted gave a small 'uhf' as the weight was re-applied. The allegory was very fine, at least. Namur had deflated and crushed his dreams just as surely as his flattened form now. The vest was keeping things bearable.

Actually, this wasn't so bad. He did say he could hug Namur once he'd discovered his good deeds. This felt similar. It just hurt, having his ideals doused like that. He could weep.

But he didn't weep. There was a kind of peace in surrender, as he closed his eyes, then laughed almost imperceptibly. He really could nap here. But need he surrender? Was Namur a lost cause? Could the treasure be unburied? Could the gold be dug out of the dross? It hurt to hope, but it hurt to extinguish it. Much like he is now. Down, but not out. Just...comfortable, and silently so.]

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[om_nom_namur]

[Broke his heart and he ain't even a girl. Damn.]