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:

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?

From:

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.

From:

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.

From:

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?

Edited Date: 2016-08-25 01:31 am (UTC)

From:

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?"

From:

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.

From:

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!

Edited Date: 2016-08-27 01:38 am (UTC)