youfool | Ted's IC Inbox

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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From:

om_nom_namur

[Maybe he has or maybe he hasn't. Namur doesn't bother keeping track. If he's shitting around he's shitting around and they'll figure it out sooner or later.]

Somethin' like that.

[Talk of the elements like that puts him a little on edge, but he shakes his head. That was another world. This is... wherever here is. He nabs a fish and swallows it whole, uncooked. Ted will find that they're incredibly fresh, like they might have been dragged out of the ocean an hour or so earlier.]

Saw some pretty boy on the network jawin' 'bout Everglade's mayor an' shit. Talked 'bout maybe overthrowin' the guy. If necessary.

[Namur makes air quotes with his webbed fingers.]

Hate it when people pretend t' be all noble when they's plottin' a coup. Jus' plot the damn coup! Y' know? Anyway, figured yer a bit more long winded'n that guy, so maybe y'd have a bit more t' say 'bout what's goin' down. 'M workin' there cuz a y', so fill me in, boss.

From:

youfool

[He puts the silverware down. It's good fish, no doubt about it, but it's clear the subject is something of a sore spot. Even so...]

"I really appreciate that you've done that Namur, thank you. That city means a lot to me...even though it's probably healthier otherwise. I'll try and keep it concise.

You know about the Guardian system, I expect. I had the spot for a time, and made some meager efforts towards improving things. Banning necromancy was my greatest act of iconoclasm. Unfortunately, popularity rules the roost in politics, so now Fai's there instead.

During his term, Dracula, as obvious a villain as you could ask for, made an unsubtle advance on the mayor, and got the 'law' passed allowing humans to be freely killed at night. Fai was indolent about it all, at best lightly addressing symptoms but otherwise taking the hands-off approach. Why, I can only guess. The barrier, a pretty important defense against the Apocalypse, works off of fear, so perhaps he nursed some evil thought about ends justifying the means. Either that or some bizarre respect of wishing to 'respect' Everglade and keeping its corruption constant. More about the letter of the law than the spirit.

If he's seriously making aims towards removing the mayor, he's once again being short-sighted and stupid. I wouldn't call that oaf innocent, but it's obvious to anyone with eyes that he's but a pawn in the power plays of much fiercer foes.

How's that for an upshot?

Edited Date: 2016-08-14 04:10 am (UTC)

From:

om_nom_namur

Don't know much 'bout the Guardians an' shit, naw. But a'ight, so y' used t' be head honcho an' y' got voted out but y' still wanna be a part a it all. An' y' want the mayor t' stick 'round for reasons. Was y' plannin' on usin' 'im or somethin'?

From:

youfool

[He shook his head]

That's close. Truthfully I've grown cyncial about politicians, mayors and Guardians. I simply believe punishment and blame should fall on the right heads, rather than scapegoats. The mayor there is, in all likelihood, completely worthless, but that doesn't mean he was in his right mind, or even his own mind at all, when the house of cards went down.

From:

om_nom_namur

A'ight, so whatcha wanna see happen then? If someone wants t' oust 'im jus' let it happen cuz it ain't our business or what?

From:

youfool

[He spurt a laugh]

What do I want?

Every man, woman, and child converted to the faith. The barrier being powered by something nobler than fear, like, say, charity. Mercy and justice for all. A populace that trusted and loved one another, rather than cowering in mutual anxiety. A city where no one's diet need mean the death of any living thing. A place free from the influence of black magic and vile sorceries. In a word, I'd like a perfect city, if it's not too much trouble.

For the mayor I'd like to see him treated as he deserves, though it's not a hill to die on. Seeing him put away quietly wouldn't be so terrible.

From:

om_nom_namur

[Namur scratches under the gills on his cheek, one eyebrow raised as he listens to Ted's oh so realistic list. His expression goes kind of blank for a few moments, like he's not really sure he actually heard all that. Then he shakes his head as if coming out of a stupor.]

Think yer gonna hafta open a sub-arch or whatever if y' wanna find that. An' y' picked Everglade as yer start? Shit, y'd have better luck here in Nova, an' that's sayin' somethin'!

[At least... he's not laughing?]

Anyway, 's gonna be a tall order gettin' everyone on board t' commit suicide an' eat only salt. Ain't some kinda genius or nothin' but I taught a biology lesson or two an' I'mma tell y' right off, that part a yer dream ain't gonna happen. People die if all they eat's salt. Dries up all the cells. So what the hell's people s'posed t' eat if we're tryna not kill any livin' thing?

From:

youfool

[He shook his head, smilling plaintively]

No; subarchways are worlds of illusion. Besides, they're based off of memories, and I doubt whether any have memories of something so utopic.

Heh, you think Everglade so hopeless? An obvious temptation, true. But I'm not ready for despair, yet. Sometimes even the darkest city gets sick of itself, and looks to repent. There may yet be some righteousness within, waiting to be cultivated. It's worth trying, at least.

Ever the biologist, eh? Admittedly that one's pretty dreamy. But there are some people who go farther than these fish; those who insist on eating the flesh of other sentient people and drink their blood. Parasites, practically. That, at least ,must not persist.

From:

om_nom_namur

[Namur picks a fish up in his hand, running his thumb over the faintly opalescent grey scales.]

Think fish ain't sentient? Jus' cuz a human can't hear their voices don't mean they ain't got 'em. Hear 'em jus' fine if y's me. We're all parasites when y' get right down t' it. Like, what the hell're y' gonna do with all the vampires an' shit? Tell 'em t' starve for the rest a eternity cuz y' don't like what their bodies is made t' eat?

[He slips the fish behind his teeth, then reaches for one of the bottles of rum. Something tells him he's going to need some alcohol in his brain before too long.]

From:

youfool

[And there's the equivocation. He'd ask whether the fish could create art or become priests or any other signature of man, but figured Namur wouldn't appreciate metaphysical gossip like that. To say nothing of Adam's dominion over the beasts and all that implied.]

There's only three things for them. Death, charity, or a miracle.

From:

om_nom_namur

[In his world, there's a starfish that is a world renowned fashion designer, so that answer would be yes. Yes they can. Namur's never heard of this Adam guy, but he's pretty sure he could kick his ass. He leans his chin on his fist.]

Got the means t' make their miracle happen d' y'? Cuz what I know a vampires is they already had t' make that choice once an' that's how they wound up bein' what they is, since their miracle didn't show up on time.

From:

youfool

[Ted chuckled and smiled. He couldn't say whether this was hopeful or hopeless.]

Not yet; that's usually the job of the hierophants. Someone vampires are loathe to see, I'm told. But I'm working on it. How about you, Namur? Any miracles you'd like to see while I'm dabbling in them?

From:

om_nom_namur

Yeah. All humans everywhere finally pullin' their heads outta their asses an' understandin' that they ain't the be-all an' end-all a creation an' that other races got jus' as much a right t' live free as they do.

[Namur shrugs, swinging his hands out wide, and clicks his tongue.]

Since that's kinda the opposite a yer's, I won't be holdin' my breath. Sheheheheh!

From:

youfool

"Hah, a futile understanding. For one, we're made in God's image. I'm afraid you'll have to make peace with the idea that we're the most important people in the universe. As for living free, well, if freedom means egotism, I think I'd prefer slavery. I sometimes wonder if freedom isn't best when freely forfeit." [For no reason he can pinpoint, somehow he feels more at ease half-joking like this, and he's back to the fish.]

I wonder, Namur, did your fishmen ever conceive of the romance of slavery? Were they ever able to find anything good in it?

From:

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!

From:

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.]

Edited Date: 2016-08-15 01:52 am (UTC)

From:

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?

From:

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.]

From:

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.]

From:

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?"

From:

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.

From:

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?

From:

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.

From:

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?