The Weeks After the Ball: Golben

Re: The Weeks After the Ball: Golben

Postby Glenn » Sun Aug 11, 2013 6:35 am

"You knew it was coming? You fed off of it? You had a hand in it? I think that's good enough. I didn't build Golben with my own hands, so I didn't create it? Trust me, duckling, I think it's well past time either of us duck responsibility for what we've done." Though, then, there was a little, wane smile. Everything was wane with him due to his physical state but this had an emotional gauntness to it as well. "It was your nature though, right? We can understand it without absolving ourselves. That's my third story though. You'll break yours into three. Intersperse it."

He took the initiative in their walking now. He'd make her stronger in telling his stories, but she couldn't work her magic unless she was telling. He'd shape the tone of this, would encase her stories in her own. She seemed to think that the actual witchcraft she used was what impacted the world the most. He meant to prove her wrong even if it meant letting her tell a story and thus cast a spell upon him. She would tell him her own making and thus he would gain the thread necessary to unravel her story and herself.

"You've heard some of it from Giuseppe, no? From me too. Sold in the womb to a monastery like none even you have seen. Raised to administrate, to be a cog in a machine. Learned of something outside through books, stories. They kept them there as a way to understand cultural trends and their impact on behavior. I was nine when I started reading them, twelve when I ran away." So much of this she'd already heard through one means or another. If not her, then the labyrinth itself as he had told some of it to Audmathus. "The problem was this. I had nothing in my head but facts and fantasy. I had no sense. I knew how people were supposed to act but I didn't know how to act. I jumped at the first sign of adventure. Why wouldn't I? It was what I wanted after all."

His tone was wistful. It was lifetimes ago. Three? Eight? A good deal and he'd been through so much since. "You've seen it in other ways, this tale. The details could be a thousand things, duckling. Selling the cow for three magic beans. I wasn't so much the bumpkin. A map to adventure. The promise of nothing but. I was a boy who had been stifled. The old man, not much unlike your glamour. Maybe it was one of your people? Probably not but it's an amusing thought. He offered it to me for a fair price. I gave what little I had gathered. Then, my life changed.

"I was cursed by my purchase. I would wake up in a different place, would learn of it, would start to put down roots and make friends, and then the rot would show. If I stayed to share their fate, that would have been the end of it, but I saw the signs as an outsider, and I ran. When I got far enough away, doom and destruction at my heels, it all went black. I woke up, a little older, somewhere else." His body had grown and his mind could not, nothing but blackness to go along with the extra inch of growth. "The process repeated. I met such people, the scions of civilizations at their very nadir, so often trying to shine their brightest not realizing that their star was about to be blotted out. Sometimes I tried to turn and stand my ground, to warn them or to work with them." He's shake his head as they walked. "But in the end, I ran. I ran and I ran and I grew two or three days for every one that I was aware of. And eventually, I ran to Myrken, and in Myrken, I learned that surviving and living were two different things indeed."
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Re: The Weeks After the Ball: Golben

Postby Dulcie » Sun Aug 11, 2013 10:38 am

"Knew it was coming but there was nothing I could do to stop it. You act as if I had some manner of control in the matter, I didn't. To my people a favor is binding magic. As guaranteed as death is for your kind. Perhaps you can avoid it for awhile, but in the end you must comply with it."

She shut up then and just listened. He was telling a story and she was good at listening, taking in the details and the key bits of information, filing away the tale as she did all the others. Oh she drew no strength from the telling of the story. It was simply another tool in a toolbox, another book in a library that she could use when the opportunity presented itself.
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Re: The Weeks After the Ball: Golben

Postby Glenn » Sun Aug 11, 2013 11:43 am

"No," He stopped, stopped their walking, stopped his storytelling, stopped everything. He'd finished his first part anyway, but there was no letting this pass. "Don't you see," he pointed the walking stick at her again, "you're complacent. You're using magic as an excuse. It's not an excuse. It's never an excuse. Magic always has a cost." Didn't she hear his story? The cost he paid for a cheating taste of adventure. "Your nature is never an excuse. You're sentient. If you make a choice, you make a choice. If people die because you are incapable of making a choice, you're still at fault for the weakness of your nature."

He pointed it right between her eyes, and if she wanted to take her staff and fence him, she'd lose. If she wanted to push it away, he'd put it right back up there. "Here, it's both. You couldn't act because a favor had to be returned. That's still your fault. You did what you did. There's no talking that away with a because. That said, it's doubly your fault because you asked for that favor in the first place. She called it in. You needed it in the first place, knowing what she was capable of or not knowing. Then it's STILL your fault because of your ignorance in such weighty matters. No matter how you shake it out, duckling, it's your fault." He'd point the walking stick. He'd let that just sit out there. "Tell the first part of your story and then I'll tell the second part of hers." For her it's was a tool to retell later, to shape into something she could use later. For him, these stories were weapons to be used now, bits of understanding that he could turn into a dagger to drive into the heart of her.
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Re: The Weeks After the Ball: Golben

Postby Dulcie » Wed Aug 14, 2013 10:04 am

She massaged her forehead the way that a mother did when she was trying to get something through to her child.

"How do I explain something to you when you are so rooted in your humanity and the rules of such? I can no more deny a favor than you can deny your body a breath of air. It is not a choice. It is a part of what I am. It's why I can't give you my name. If you had my name you could Call me. No matter how much I could hate that you could it would happen anyhow. You humans presume everything can be fought against, and yet in the end you must give way to hunger, to breath, to the need for rest. I am as limited as a human, merely in a different way."

She'd sigh deeply, sure that wouldn't make a dent in his belief anyhow.

"How far back do you wish me to begin? I'm rather old, I don't remember much of childhood."
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Re: The Weeks After the Ball: Golben

Postby Glenn » Wed Aug 14, 2013 10:19 am

"She had to get your name somehow." His stomach grumble as she mentioned hunger. He had defeated it for a month but not without huge cost. "If you have such limitations, you have to learn how to get around them. Our natures cannot be completely supplanted but they can be anticipated and prepared for." Almost on cue, he reached down to a mushroom groeing in the shade, a foul looking thing, one that fit Golben, a gift from his Alessandra.

She asked where she should start and he could not help but smile there. "The storyteller asking me how to best tell her story." He would not linger long on the irony, though. "You obviously think I need to know more about your people, Duckling. Why don't you start with such generalities then?"
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Re: The Weeks After the Ball: Golben

Postby Dulcie » Wed Aug 14, 2013 10:56 am

"I would like to see you stop breathing then. Please go ahead and try." She'd say. There was no point in trying to explain something that you had already explained and wasn't understood.

"Fine. I'll tell you about what I am and then you can continue your story." She'd seem annoyed, as if her tale would have no impact on his beliefs.

"I'm a breed of Fae. If you want to call us that, I assume it's the closest thing that you can associate us with anyhow. Most of us live beyond the veil, emerging when it's time to feed, and returning to be with our own kind when they're finished. It's harder for you humans to find us there." She'd toy with her own walking stick, letting it sway back and forth in her hand.

"We're all different of course. We have different ways of feeding, as you've presumed mine has something to do with stories. Harmless really compared to some of the others like Fiona. Humans are are food, for all of us. Some are just more harmful than others. I'm sure there are others of my kind that have been here before that have passed you as unnoticed as I would have if my timing had been better."

She paused then and looked at him curiously.

"Does it bother you to know that your precious human race is really prey for something much greater?"
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Re: The Weeks After the Ball: Golben

Postby Glenn » Wed Aug 14, 2013 1:02 pm

"I sent a man to the bottom of the lake." Deadpan, cold, eyes narrowed. It wasn't exactly the same thing but it certainly was a thing. They could o back and forth about this all day. It was, in some ways, one of his greatest moments, a true conquering of nature. The coldness gave way to something wry. "Or did no one tell you that story?" It had been futile but an accomplishment nonetheless.

He listened carefully as she gave her explanation. It wasn't a story, not really. It was a list of facts or at least facts as she saw them. There was no magic in the air, no electricity, nothing to draw him in. They were both hungry right now, but he rather imagined she could best him in an open physical battle. He would intervene if she started to weave a spell around him but that would be desperation on both of their parts and this wasn't that yet.

She ended it with a question and he smiled despite himself. If only she had heard his conversation with Audmathus. "There's always something stronger than you, Duckling. There's always something smarter. There's always something more dangerous. That's why we mortals have to live every moment of our lives as if it matters. That's why our tales are so rich and full of life. Our mortality is our greatest strength. None of you ever seem to realize that."
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Re: The Weeks After the Ball: Golben

Postby Dulcie » Thu Aug 15, 2013 11:11 am

"I fail to understand how mortality can be a strength." There was no story to weave at the moment, there was a time for such things and this wasn't the moment.

She'd walk with him, the walking stick touching the ground as they moved, her green eyes looking at the area, considering what might be a decent way out of this situation.

"I think it's your turn to tell a story."
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Re: The Weeks After the Ball: Golben

Postby Glenn » Fri Aug 16, 2013 12:41 pm

"You weren't listening when I spoke to Audmathus? If we go back there and perhaps grind up his bones and make a lovely broth for you, could you gather up his memories? Then maybe we could..." He exhaled. He had said some of it to Catch as well. He couldn't again, not the same way. He was already in a labyrinth. He couldn't go around in circles like that.

"Fine," he stalked on, sudden energy in him once again. "This is a famous story that will help explain. It's called The Tale of the Very, Busty Drow and the Brilliant but Desperate Man Who Did Not Want to Sleep With Her. Perhaps you've heard it?" He gave maybe half a second, not enough time for her to speak, before moving on. "No, fine. It starts like this.

The Tale of the Very, Busty Drow and the Brilliant but Desperate Man Who Did Not Want to Sleep With Her

There once was a Drowess. She was of a middling house, but was the prime daughter, set to inherit. She was beautiful, voluptuous. Men desired her. As a Drowess she spent years treating them as toys. This was until one young man denied her. He simply wasn't interested. Therefore, she had to have him. He was the first that she truly felt she had to possess. He was human. He was male. He was beneath her in every way so she was driven by his rejection, by his sheer apathy. He chose another. She hurt her. He saw her exposed and driven away. She waited until the two had need and preyed upon it with an inane plan. It caused them to pull together, not further apart and in her rage she severed the Girl's hand.

The Drowess thought she had nothing to fear. She had magic. She had the experience of years and years of living. She had a coeterie and immortal power. The Boy only had one thing that she did not: his mortality. He knew how fragile he was, how it could all end, so he worked hard, every day, every moment of every day, for he knew how few of them he had and how valuable they were. He faced off against the most dangerous creatures he could, he trained and became better and better with a sword, using any means he could to keep his body healthy so he could push it farther. He crossed lines that the Drowess didn't even know existed because, in her immorality, she never had any need to find them. A year later, they faced once again. It had been almost no time at all to her but it had been the hardest year of the Boy's life and he stabbed her through. Despite all of her advantages, he had surpassed her.

Then, at the moment of his triumph, her people swooped in and captured him. This was still a game to the Drowess for as long-lived as she was, nothing in life had any real meaning anymore. She disguised the Boy as one of her people, the lowliest of the low, and tried to have her way with him. He leapt out her castle's window instead, shattering his leg. So there he was left in the darkness of their land, friendless, penniless, with a shattered leg, and only a cursory knowledge of their language. Once again, all he had was his mortality. Drow society had become calcified, had been stuck in its immortal rut. Rules and customs mattered overmuch when change was so infrequent and life was so long. They played their games but all within the lines defined by their long-lived habits. There was no real need for passion or desperation. There was always another day, another year, even another generation. The Boy had different needs and different proclivities.

Once again he crossed lines that they would have never imagined existed. He did things that even he, previously, wouldn't even have imagined himself capable of. The Boy kept himself three steps in front of them, because they could never imagine a need to move so swiftly. He used their own institutions against them because they thought them immutable and eternal, perfect in the way a mortal mind should have never grasped. And then, ultimately, he turned them all against one another, threatening to collapse their entire society. He had been sent to a hell and the devil there, immortal and omniscient had deemed him too dangerous to stay, so he was finally sent back at their own hands, pilfered wealth along with him. The Drow, incapable of growth and change due to their immortal nature, pretended none of it happened and went on with their very small lives.

Burnie finally stopped, finally looked back. There was a bit of a lopsided smile upon his face, almost a glow. "Had you heard it already?"
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Re: The Weeks After the Ball: Golben

Postby Dulcie » Sat Aug 17, 2013 2:35 am

"I'm Fae, not a witch." She spat back at him as he commented about grinding up bones to learn things from them.

She listened to the story. Human embellishment and the details of a story that is extremely personal.

"No, I'm afraid I haven't heard it before. It sounds like quite an ordeal, although I have to admit, I'm not sure how your story, or my story are going to get us out of this place. Now if you'd consider a deviation from our prior agreement I know a lovely tale about a boy and a beanstalk that I think would be of much more use than our indulgence in memories of the past."

She looked at him then, a brow arched to see what he'd think about it. He didn't want her escaping certainly, but surely he wanted out of this place.
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Re: The Weeks After the Ball: Golben

Postby Glenn » Sat Aug 17, 2013 3:23 am

Had she learned a thing from that? There was no sign of it. It was probably frustrating for both of them. "We had a deal, Duckling. You still have one more story out of me, but you need to keep telling me your tale." He wasn't smiling anymore. "Maybe when we're done I'll be open to hearing something else, but if you try right now, I'll stop you." He didn't seem much the physical specimen right now but then neither was she.

"Anyway, I'm a mapmaker. Do you really think I can't find my way out?" He hadn't walked into a mirror in at least an hour. "The only thing I need you for is to sate my curiosity. Carry on with your story."
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Re: The Weeks After the Ball: Golben

Postby Dulcie » Sat Aug 17, 2013 4:44 am

"Do you really think a map could help you climb in the state that you are in?"

She'd shake her head and sigh audibly. She'd bow her head in acknowledgement. A deal was a deal and she'd have to try to figure another way.

"The story about the boy and the beanstalk is more interesting than my story. A Storyteller hardly compares to her stories." She'd shrug and then think about where she was at in the story.

"I'm still not sure what there is to tell you. Your story is much more comprehensive than mine. I was born, I think, a long time ago. I stopped counting after the first few hundred years or so. Ive always been around in one form or another. Someone's grandmother, a court steward, a messenger boy, collecting stories and finding people that are willing to listen to them. The years where the gypsies were most common were among the best. There's nothing quite like a travelling show to bring people to listen to your tales. I'm a wanderer however. You live as long as I have and there's very little interest in staying in one place for very long. You learn what you can from one group of people and you feed while you can and then you simply move on to find the next place."

She paused. "Unlike some of my brothers and sisters I rather enjoy humans. You're far more than food to me you know. You are rather fascinating. Most of my stories involve humans at some point after all."
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Re: The Weeks After the Ball: Golben

Postby Glenn » Sat Aug 17, 2013 5:16 am

"It's not about climbing. There's an entrance. We were dumped in but not everyone is." Every labyrinth had a way out. He had not followed its creation closely because to look directly at it caused him pain, reminded him of his lingering insanity, but he had followed it closely enough, just closely enough, to know that much at least. "And i can find it, even if you can't."

She spoke on and it was general. It gave some sense of her age; it had her claim that she enjoyed them. It prompted his next question. "Do you care about us? Can you care about us? Gloria gave you respect. I remember her not letting me press you for questions when we were together. She tried to argue for you at your trial, didn't she? There are good people there, good people whose stories you heard and good people who showed you kindness. You may have not wanted harm to befall us, but that's not the same thing. Are you capable of caring about any of us or are we just too lowly for you?"
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Re: The Weeks After the Ball: Golben

Postby Dulcie » Sat Aug 17, 2013 8:21 am

"You presume you know that there's an entrance. There are no guarantees. Humans are capable of many things, I can't see an reason why the creations here couldn't have been lowered in. Ladders and pullies and the like. Of course we can look for the entrance for days. I don't need to eat. Your mere presence is enough for me." She gave him a hint of a smile, once again emphasizing her earlier statement that humans were food.

And then he brought up Gloria.

The smile faded and she shook her head slightly. "It's unfortunate that the girl got caught up in it. I truly did enjoy her company." She considered the question for a few more minutes. "I do care about people from time to time. I try not to get attached. I don't stay, I will never stay. Gloria is perhaps the reason I got caught." She paused and closed her eyes a moment, thinking about the girl. "I will miss her."
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Re: The Weeks After the Ball: Golben

Postby Glenn » Mon Aug 19, 2013 8:18 am

"There's an entrance." It was the simpliest, most obvious thing in the world. Then, with a little grin, a weak thing, for he was fading more quickly than her. "I know." He tapped at his forehead and then just barely avoided walking into another mirror. Catch had provided him with some food, yes, but he would falter before she did and then, with him collapsed, she could tell any damn story she pleased.

Then, of course, she opened up about Gloria. "That's another thing. You're immortal. You'll lose anyone mortal you ever care about. It means you can never open your heart up too big. That makes you a monster as much as anything else. Why couldn't you just guide people with your knowledge, help them, help their stories become better ones? It's because the tragic stories taste better and you're a slave to your stomach."
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