"What kind of gift is that, then? You can eat but you can't keep it, and when you can, it's not what you want." She's less irritated at him and more at Aster. "Should I be giving you congratulations or condolences?"
Exhaling, she shakes her head, but all told, it's milder than if Erik struck an actual deal.
"Congratulations are far more appropriate, Fever, I assure you," he soothes, as he busies himself with pouring the tea. (The actual tea.)
"I have spent hundreds of years yearning to taste foods that were invented long after I lost the ability to eat. Even if I must be careful to pace myself, the fact that I can now taste a slice of Max's chocolate cake for the very first time is more than worth it to me. I do not regret this."
"As you say, then. If you personally have no regrets, and he's not trying to put more hooks in you, then I suppose I must yield, and can only lament that I didn't know sooner so that I might bring you new things to taste."
Accepting her cup, the warmth blooms in her hands, and she nods in thanks.
"He's been trying to make some offers, and I worry about my friends. That's all." A pause. "Now you can see why Max's bakery is so popular, though."
"You're right to worry, of course. I can't fault you when I'd be giving you the same scrutiny if our places were reversed." He has some suspicions about that now, actually.
"He wanted to make me an offer. He legitimizes Dahlia Leeds as an infernal noble, free to choose where she aligns - and free from her obligations to the Dark Feast entirely. Free her from her particular needs. He breaks the contract with Nyarlathotep, and dissolves the barrier, as soon as it's 'strategically viable', so he says."
Her hand makes the air quotes, telling him how much faith she has in that statement.
"What he asks in return is me helping raise him to power, and then me helping him keep his throne from any threats to his claim."
Erik frowns so hard it causes rare wrinkles in his forehead. "You cannot take that deal. You would be selling yourself into eternal servitude."
As much as he aches to free Dahlia from her torment, as much as he's sure Fever wants to as well, it wouldn't be any more or less than a captive life traded for another captive life.
"I know. It was why I asked him for time to consider it." A beat, as she sips her tea. "Without making this talk depressing, I have been fighting too long to be my own master, and I do not long to be at the beck and call of another again. That he'd ask this of me, who has more reason than most to despise him..."
Her eyes close for a second.
"But. I thought about the barrier."
If it could be shattered sooner, if people could be free, if they could choose to live where they would...she knows she can't do that. But it still feels like letting everyone down.
"The barrier will fall," he says with iron conviction. "So will Aster. He will pay for what he has done. But I cannot accept the loss of you, Fever, as a trade for having it done sooner."
He reaches for her hand.
"I'm sorry he made such suggestion to you. I suspect he knew exactly what he was doing. But if he is asking for powerful people to guard him, then it does make me wonder if we have him worried."
She gives it, fingers automatically curling to hold his hand, seeking comfort from her friend.
"I think he's planning a coup. If he wants powerful sorts to help his ascension, then he needs them - I don't think Eligos would go quietly. Convincing people who aren't beholden to this land to be a standing kingsguard means he wants those he can trust to not be swayed by old loyalties. I mean, that's what I would do, in his place."
Her shoulders shrug, before she adds:
"He won't have me. I swore two oaths - one to not try and solve anything with my death, and one to not sacrifice myself. I cannot betray the ones who I promised so."
Erik nods, agreeing with her assessment. "Of all these demon princes, Aster seems the most cunning. I think you're right. That is exactly what this looks like." Erik worries Aster may just have the resources to pull it off, too.
"You cannot, and you must not. Promise to me, as well. I do not ever want to see a day where I am forced to face you on that battlefield."
"I swear it to you. The only time you'll be witnessing my powers will be when they are fighting with you, and not helping an infernal army. I will not throw myself away for the sake of the future."
Her grip tightens a little into a comforting squeeze.
"We're going to get Dahlia out, too. She may have cause to hope sooner rather than later."
"Thank you, Fever. Everyone who loves you thanks you."
He nods in agreement, just about to open his mouth to comment on Fever's statement about Dahlia when a new noise interrupts him.
Chills and Maxly have been play-wrestling this whole time, as they often do. The ruckus has been going on in the background of this conversation with no incident, until now.
"Ghaaaaast!" Maxly suddenly cries out, just before light envelops his entire form. The air stirs in a sudden wind as Maxly lifts into the center of a small magical swirl of energy.
"Maxly!" Erik shoots up out of his seat and races to his pet's side, but the light is so blindingly bright that he cannot see his Ghastly anymore. "What's happening?!"
She's on her feet and as uncertain as Erik, but Chills retreats back to her, and Fever's arm is outstretched, ready to cast and defend if she has to. It's bright enough to leave spots on her visions, and this doesn't feel like magic going outwards, but...
Erik can do nothing but stand and watch in horror. And then, as suddenly as it began, the wind stops, the dust settles, and in the place where a ghastly once floated, A haunter drifts above the ground instead.
"M-Maxly?" Erik asks, bewildered.
"Haunter!" Maxly replies, raising both of its disembodied claws in celebration. "Haunt! Haunt!"
Oh, God, it has hands now.
"I..." Erik turns to Fever as if to make sure she's seeing the same thing he is. "I think that's still him..."
Oh no. As if the ghost type wasn't a menace enough before hands.
"Maxly? Are you all right?"
"HA!" the ghost declairs, before he zips forward to float circles around Erik, then Fever, then Chills in his excitement. It's a very Maxly thing to do.
Slowly, Fever lifts Chills off of where he is clinging, and looks him directly in his eyes.
"Don't get any ideas."
A small chirp is her only response, before she turns her attention back to Maxly.
"He looks healthy enough. And...I don't sense anything strange in the air. Nothing that would harm or change you. This might just be another way of becoming, now that he's had time enough to grow. Just growing all at once, instead of gradually."
"Is Chills a... they said it's a pokemon...is Chills a pokemon?" Because, now that he's gotten through the shock, he recalls that there was a store in the mall that featured food and toys for creatures like his. They called them Pokemon. He got Maxly a treat there.
"I think you must be right. I can see no other explanation and, aside from the fact that he now has hands, I see nothing concerning about his new appearance. He seems happy."
The haunter zips around them as if to answer that he is. He claps his new hands together, too, shouting, "Haunter Haunter!"
"If he's happy, then...congratulations to him on his new growth, I guess. Strange, but at the least he's so energetic that he must be well."
Chills lets out another little chirp, and then wriggles out of her grip, fluttering back to the woven rug near the warmth. Fever lets him go easy, eyes busy following Maxly now, still thunderstruck by the change.
"Chills isn't a pokemon," she adds, feeling out the unfamiliar word. "He's from Paradesium - he flew up here during migration season and didn't want to go back. I tried to send him back, brought him there, and he kept returning." A strange beast, that one.
"Must be..." Erik says, deadpan, as Maxly uses one of those new hands to play with his hair, tussling the auburn locks until they stick up at odd angles. But when Chills moves he abandons that and goes to the rug to try petting the dragon's head instead.
"I see. He's like a barn cat who decided he'd rather sleep by a hearth than hunt for his dinner. You'll be stuck with him for life. I do hope he won't get too large."
Chills seems confused, but then relaxes under his friend's touch, settling into the new state of affairs with far more ease than the others in the house. Meanwhile, Fever reaches over to Erik almost thoughtlessly to fix it, trying to not chuckle at the situation.
"If he gets too big, I'm kicking him out. My apartment is suited for one. Two, if we compromised. I barely even want him there in the first place, but he's been a thorn in my side since summer."
Shaking her head, she glances back over at Maxly.
"...I would suggest locks, but then I remembered he can bypass them with ease. You may have to look into wards."
Erik makes a soft sound of surprise when she reaches for him, but he settles into her touch with a smile.
"Has he now? But he looked so content wrapped up in your coat." You can lie to yourself all you want, Fever, but he knows you'd kill anyone that touched a scale on that dragon's hide.
"Wards," he perks up at that, and so does Maxly but unhappily. "Is that something you could do?"
"I could try, but I'd need a starting point to build from. The closest thing to a ward I can cast is a reflex to prevent physical damage, but that's not precisely what you'd need. There'd need to be some research. Honestly, it might be worth asking Anzu, if you get the chance - Dr. Menelikov. He knows enough about the dead and spirits that he might have some concept of where to begin."
There. Now his hair's back in order. If someone were to ask her why she did it, it was a mere whim for her friend's sake.
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lordoftheozarks) wrote2023-06-13 08:20 pm
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Exhaling, she shakes her head, but all told, it's milder than if Erik struck an actual deal.
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"I have spent hundreds of years yearning to taste foods that were invented long after I lost the ability to eat. Even if I must be careful to pace myself, the fact that I can now taste a slice of Max's chocolate cake for the very first time is more than worth it to me. I do not regret this."
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Accepting her cup, the warmth blooms in her hands, and she nods in thanks.
"He's been trying to make some offers, and I worry about my friends. That's all." A pause. "Now you can see why Max's bakery is so popular, though."
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"He didn't come to offer you a deal, did he?"
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"Yes. He sought me out for it, actually. Or I just crossed his path at the wrong time."
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Her hand makes the air quotes, telling him how much faith she has in that statement.
"What he asks in return is me helping raise him to power, and then me helping him keep his throne from any threats to his claim."
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As much as he aches to free Dahlia from her torment, as much as he's sure Fever wants to as well, it wouldn't be any more or less than a captive life traded for another captive life.
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Her eyes close for a second.
"But. I thought about the barrier."
If it could be shattered sooner, if people could be free, if they could choose to live where they would...she knows she can't do that. But it still feels like letting everyone down.
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He reaches for her hand.
"I'm sorry he made such suggestion to you. I suspect he knew exactly what he was doing. But if he is asking for powerful people to guard him, then it does make me wonder if we have him worried."
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"I think he's planning a coup. If he wants powerful sorts to help his ascension, then he needs them - I don't think Eligos would go quietly. Convincing people who aren't beholden to this land to be a standing kingsguard means he wants those he can trust to not be swayed by old loyalties. I mean, that's what I would do, in his place."
Her shoulders shrug, before she adds:
"He won't have me. I swore two oaths - one to not try and solve anything with my death, and one to not sacrifice myself. I cannot betray the ones who I promised so."
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"You cannot, and you must not. Promise to me, as well. I do not ever want to see a day where I am forced to face you on that battlefield."
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Her grip tightens a little into a comforting squeeze.
"We're going to get Dahlia out, too. She may have cause to hope sooner rather than later."
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He nods in agreement, just about to open his mouth to comment on Fever's statement about Dahlia when a new noise interrupts him.
Chills and Maxly have been play-wrestling this whole time, as they often do. The ruckus has been going on in the background of this conversation with no incident, until now.
"Ghaaaaast!" Maxly suddenly cries out, just before light envelops his entire form. The air stirs in a sudden wind as Maxly lifts into the center of a small magical swirl of energy.
"Maxly!" Erik shoots up out of his seat and races to his pet's side, but the light is so blindingly bright that he cannot see his Ghastly anymore. "What's happening?!"
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She's on her feet and as uncertain as Erik, but Chills retreats back to her, and Fever's arm is outstretched, ready to cast and defend if she has to. It's bright enough to leave spots on her visions, and this doesn't feel like magic going outwards, but...
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"M-Maxly?" Erik asks, bewildered.
"Haunter!" Maxly replies, raising both of its disembodied claws in celebration. "Haunt! Haunt!"
Oh, God, it has hands now.
"I..." Erik turns to Fever as if to make sure she's seeing the same thing he is. "I think that's still him..."
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Does that just happen?
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Oh no. As if the ghost type wasn't a menace enough before hands.
"Maxly? Are you all right?"
"HA!" the ghost declairs, before he zips forward to float circles around Erik, then Fever, then Chills in his excitement. It's a very Maxly thing to do.
"I guess this is... normal for them."
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"Don't get any ideas."
A small chirp is her only response, before she turns her attention back to Maxly.
"He looks healthy enough. And...I don't sense anything strange in the air. Nothing that would harm or change you. This might just be another way of becoming, now that he's had time enough to grow. Just growing all at once, instead of gradually."
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"I think you must be right. I can see no other explanation and, aside from the fact that he now has hands, I see nothing concerning about his new appearance. He seems happy."
The haunter zips around them as if to answer that he is. He claps his new hands together, too, shouting, "Haunter Haunter!"
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Chills lets out another little chirp, and then wriggles out of her grip, fluttering back to the woven rug near the warmth. Fever lets him go easy, eyes busy following Maxly now, still thunderstruck by the change.
"Chills isn't a pokemon," she adds, feeling out the unfamiliar word. "He's from Paradesium - he flew up here during migration season and didn't want to go back. I tried to send him back, brought him there, and he kept returning." A strange beast, that one.
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"I see. He's like a barn cat who decided he'd rather sleep by a hearth than hunt for his dinner. You'll be stuck with him for life. I do hope he won't get too large."
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"If he gets too big, I'm kicking him out. My apartment is suited for one. Two, if we compromised. I barely even want him there in the first place, but he's been a thorn in my side since summer."
Shaking her head, she glances back over at Maxly.
"...I would suggest locks, but then I remembered he can bypass them with ease. You may have to look into wards."
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"Has he now? But he looked so content wrapped up in your coat." You can lie to yourself all you want, Fever, but he knows you'd kill anyone that touched a scale on that dragon's hide.
"Wards," he perks up at that, and so does Maxly but unhappily. "Is that something you could do?"
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There. Now his hair's back in order. If someone were to ask her why she did it, it was a mere whim for her friend's sake.
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