genessia | Catchall for Feb/March

Namur wound his way along the slate-stone path, following the string of lights up to a door with a creepyass carving of a giant eyeball sitting on top of it, and shook his head. Sometimes he wondered if Koishi's trying to be edgy, but he's pretty sure the concept of edgy would go right over her head most days. Namur knocked on the door, silently hoping the eyeball statue wouldn't suddenly come to life and blink at him or something.

Edited 2019-03-01 22:35 (UTC)

Oh, but it does. Then it swivels a little to stare at Namur and the door swings open in response to the knock. It's Chireiden, what else do you expect from somewhere ostensibly in an abandoned Hell-realm?

And there certainly is a Komeiji sister behind the door. Shame it's the wrong one.

"Hoping to visit someone, are you, Namur?"

Satori's voice dripped with a mixture of acrid grumbling and legitimate worry about someone showing up bringing her sister anything, really. Koishi did like presents, most of the time, but it wasn't often that she understood their value in the same way as anyone else did. She's spoken to Namur in the past, a few times and she's noticed his interest in hanging around Koishi from Koishi prattling about it, but she's largely given it no mind.

That, and she knows of him as a foul-mouthed brute with somewhat of a good heart and a heaping helping of thoughtlessness.

"I won't be one to refuse a guest, but I must say that I find it easier to dull your high-minded kindness with a dose of reality before you'd consider dealing with my sister any further. Come in and follow me. But please don't tarry and don't stray from where I lead you. My home is massive to the point where even I get lost in it, and the last thing I want is for someone like you to get trapped in some forsaken wing of the building to starve."

She steps into the great hall and makes a turn to her usual sitting room, her gaze aimed down the hall in the middle distance. Despite being cordial, her actions feel...almost as if they have a hint of malice in them. Or, at least in some respect, a feeling of dreadful weight. Whatever the matter was with the elder Komeiji sister, it was clearly as a result of Namur being here and...not elsewhere.

Lord of the Sea, of course it looked at him. Shit. Namur waved at the eye, a little self-consciously and mostly with his fingertips, while he waited for the thing to open itself. Seeing Satori on the other side didn't entirely surprise him either, but it sure as hell made shit about a million times more awkward.

"Wow, 'kay. G'mornin' t' y', too," Namur greeted. He just showed up and someone's pissed at him? "The hell's the problem?"

"Like I said, I'd rather discuss things with you somewhere more comfortable, but if you're really intent on hearing more from me, so be it. While you have a monstrous appearance, Namur, as a fellow monster myself I'd find it a little hypocritical to insult your appearance. To a mind-reader, your mind is almost as...open as some of my pets, however. It might be best if we start off simple."

She leads Namur into the room and takes a seat from across a table. There's no tea, not yet. Instead of immediately addressing the issue, she silently heads off to make some.

By the time she gets back, the couple minutes where she left the room feel like a tiny eternity. She slides over a cup of tea to Namur, even if she figures his type isn't that fond of the stuff. Still, even if she was pretending to be friendly, it's a habit of hers.

"Koishi isn't like you think she is, Namur. And I can't guarantee that you'll be happy carrying on the way you are, right now. It's as simple as that. Though I'm sure she'd appreciate what you've done for her, I'm doubtful you'll find anything resembling 'love'."

Satori leans forward and takes a sip of tea, her third eye fixed upon the fishman's expression.

"Give up while you still have your pride and shame intact."

Most of the time when Satori talked, Namur had a look of abject confusion on his face. Why the hell was she giving him the third degree, when all he was doing is bringing Koishi a gift, on a day people celebrate by giving each other gifts? It's not like he's coming out of nowhere, here. But eventually he cottoned on, and his expression contorted, trying to keep it together. It lasted only a few moments, just long enough for Satori to finish, before Namur snorted, then gave up the fight and let himself go, filling the room with laughter.

"Holy shit, y' think I'm here cuz I wanna get up Koishi's skirts?" Namur laughed a bit more, then took a deep breath. "Ohhh man. A'ight. No. Listen. First, y' gotta check yer brain scanner, cuz that kinda shit ain't even in my head when it comes t' Koishi. Second, I know I ain't on her radar anyway. Hell, most days I'm like 99 percent sure she ain't even got a radar t' be pingin', so that's double nothin' happenin' there. Listen, all that's goin' on here's that she helps us out over at Jolly Eddy's, an' I know she likes gnawin' on crabs so I brought her some. Handful a nice crunchy li'l shits. If all she gets outta 'em's a couple minutes a enjoyable torture pickin' the damn things' legs off one at a time then I done gave her a token a our 'preciation good 'nuff, catch me? Give up while y' still got yer pride an' shame intact, oh hell, y' gotta be shittin' me, sheheheheheh!"

"y' think I'm here cuz I wanna get up Koishi's skirts?"

She mocked in a butchered pastiche of Namur's voice with a dark, displeased expression which soon gave way to a cruel little smirk, very much unlike the calm smile she had earlier of self-assurance.

"Oh, you must think my centuries of life have made me naive. You say that, but why do I remember Koishi telling me about a black dress, Namur? She's worn it out a few times and told me a little of how she got it. It's rather nice. Come then, if you won't tell me about it yourself, why don't I let your mind do it FOR you? Surely it's something you wouldn't want to have your friends hear. But that's a bit of a stretch, I suppose. Companionship of any kind is a rare thing among the more monstrous of the world, myself included."

She leaned back a little, her eyes a little too red, glittering, her third eye almost mesmerizing. Assuming her suggestions hit his walnut of a mind, he'd spill his secrets. But that's not even nearly approaching enough.

"Koishi might get a couple minutes from a single crab, but I can certainly get many weeks worth of blabbering from someone like you. But I don't need to pick away your legs or hurt you at all. All I need is for you to understand what I'm trying to explain to you. And if that hurts you in the process, I suppose that's your own fault for thinking too hard."

No, not for this. She had to keep going...

"You should know most of all that my 'brain scanner' is a lovely way of ratting out liars. So I'll say this once. Lie at your peril in my house, especially if it's about my sister. I've tried to understand how Koishi feels about me for centuries. Even now, I can't entirely grasp how she functions. If I can't have that luxury, what above or below the earth makes you so special, so high-minded, so utterly faultless to approach her with those intentions in mind?"

She pulls herself out of her chair and stands to full height - still positively childlike in front of someone as stocky as Namur, arms to her sides but with a face of the most ultimate and grave of seriousness.

"Let me make this clear. You will never have what you want. Not if you try for fifty years. Not for a hundred. Not for a thousand. Not for a million. Even the Gods would crumble and die before that happened. Not because I refuse it but because what you want is utterly impossible. It isn't that Koishi isn't fond of you. It isn't quite that Koishi isn't ready for what you want from her. It's mostly because your simple mind has blindly assumed Koishi's capable of returning those feelings in the first place. You want to have her as a lover, to seduce her, to make her yours. But even if that were possible, even probable...you'll find nothing but a pale reflection of what you want. I should hope, if you keep up this farce, that you'll avoid killing yourself out of shame when you realize the truth is exactly how I say it is - I don't want your misspent life on my conscience along with a worried sister. But that's the issue: She'll never truly love, just like she never truly hates or feels. Her life is empty, her emotions are sterile and nothing will fill it. Especially, most emphatically, neither will you."

One final pause...

"Love is for people who have emotions left to give. To Koishi, emotions in themselves are like a ton of sand running right through her fingers. Like water through a sieve. Now stop this foolishness and grandstanding before I cut down any--"

Edited 2019-03-10 06:00 (UTC)

At some point yellow and black had wrapped around Satori's shoulders from behind. Arms. Commected to a sister that held her close, head slightly inclined as she rested her forehead against her sister's temple. She let out a small hum, a hand reaching up to gently cover Satori's eyes for several seconds before combing through her bangs. Koishi's third eye gently nudged her sister's, open a sliver.

There was no emotional manipulation. No psychic pressure. And it was several seconds before she chose to say anything. "Shh..." The sound was soft. "You don't have to cling so tightly, sis. Your reflection is always by your side. As is mine. There's nothing to be afraid of." She squeezed Satori's shoulder gently once more before letting go, drifting back, head inclined slightly.

And she just... watched her sister. Smiling. Not joyfully. Not sorrowfully. "I don't need to read your mind to see you haven't changed at all. I just wish you'd noticed me sooner. It's hard to get your attention when you're mad. I wish you wouldn't dwell on such mortal, transient things all the time. It makes me worry about you sometimes, you know?"

Edited 2019-03-10 06:10 (UTC)

Satori's words caught in her throat as she noticed the emptiness of Koishi around her. Then her arms. She froze, mid-castigation as her mouth opened and then immediately shut again, turning back a little over her shoulder, even as her sister covered her eyes.

"...I assumed this one would know better. At times, a harder approach against...a thick skin is better to let things sink deeper. I...-"

She paused again, this time not to issue leaden proclamations of spite but to formulate what she could even say in response to her sister, so clearly worried for her well-being in berating her guest...

"I...I tend to get caught up in matters like these, don't I? But while you're here, I may as well let you have your say about it, Koishi." She looks to Namur, perhaps a little apologetically, but still with considerable suspicion. "As much as the idea makes me...displeased, perhaps I shouldn't have spoken on your behalf. But I only wanted what was best for you, you know."

His friends could absolutely hear about how he took Koishi shopping on her birthday and let her pick out a dress on her own. They wouldn't think anything of it. And Satori would know that, if she was really paying any attention to what's actually in his head. Sure, he gave people shit sometimes, but for the most part lying didn't get him anything and just made things more complicated, so he didn't bother. People would think what they wanted of him, regardless of the truth- as Satori was currently so blatantly proving- so he didn't see much sense in worrying about that aspect, either. He didn't know shit about how Koishi felt about much of anything, other than he knew she enjoyed eating crabs, and he'd be the first to admit it. All he wanted was to bring her a pot full of crabs as a gift so hey, if Koishi wound up with it in the end? Then he got exactly what he wanted. It wasn't impossible. In fact, it was quite doable. Just let him hand the cage full of crabs to the Squidlet and bam. Mission accomplished. The rest of that shit? Sounded like hardcore projection issues.

So Namur sighed, resting long arms on the table, and leaned his head on his fist. Let the girl say her piece, then maybe he could go. He'd already stuck around a hell of a lot longer than he'd intended. When Koishi showed up, he huffed with relief, and moved the crab cage over to the floor on the same side as her, where she'd definitely see it. He met Satori's suspicious glance with a level one of his own.

"Sounds like yer jealous more'n anythin' else," he said, then patted the crab pot, complete with a half-assed bow and a little flower clip on the top. "But that's for the two a y' t' sort out an' it ain't got shit t' do with me. Squidlet, good t' see y'. Happy Valentine's Day! Hope y' have a good'n! Now since y' both got shit t' work out with each other, I'll jus' leave y'all t' it, aye?" Namur gave a quick salute as he stood, edging toward the doorway. "Been real, sweethearts. Later!"

Maybe, with some luck, he could get out the door without complications. Lord of the Sea, please let him get out the door without complications.

Technically it was the clerk who picked it out. Koishi couldn't tell hot from not if it came up and smacked her in the face.

She gave her sister one final squeeze before flying after Namur, the little youkai attaching herself to his arm and refusing to let go. "Waaaait! I'm sorry. Sis gets grumpy sometimes. She doesn't mean it. She's a nice person." She's just a living, breathing buzzkill is all.

"Don't go yet, okay? Please?" Tug tug. Actually she was pulling pretty firmly but she wasn't going to stop him while floating. Even if she was strong she needed traction to get anywhere. "Thank you for the crabs. But I also want to show you something. You like to swim, right? So I want to show you a nice spot."

Damn it. So close! Also very much not helping.

Shit.

Namur dropped his head. There was no way he was getting out of this quickly. So he sighed, and checked Koishi's floating eye. There wasn't much point in trying to explain if she didn't have much chance of getting it. But when he noticed it was partially open, Namur figured he might as well give it a shot. There might not be a better opportunity.

"Actually, sweetheart, she sounded pretty damn legit," he said, turning as he tried to peel her off his arm so he could guide her back to sit in his seat. "Maybe if I was anybody else I'd take it personal, but I know sometimes folk gets mad 'bout one thing an' takes it out on 'nother, an' for whatever reason I always wind up the target. So sit yer ass down an' listen t' yer sister bitch 'bout me 'til she's ready t' tell y' what's really twistin' her knickers, an' I promise t' stick 'round 'til yer done, a'ight?"

Koishi shook her head, looking back over her shoulder. Satori wasn't there but no doubt the little youkai could sense her sister. "I am my sister's other half. There isn't anyone who knows her better than I do. She's heading up to her room to sulk right now. She does this and then just needs to cool off."

A pause. "It's not your fault at all. She doesn't like it when I have an excuse to leave. I'm out and about all the time. She thinks I'm going to leave one day and never come back. And then she'll be all alone. But that wont happen. Because I always come back. She gets lonely really easily."

She pulled out her device with a tentacle and poked at it several times. "Bitter twists through teeth. Yellows and greens. She probably doesn't want to talk to me right now but she's been dating the nice vampire lady so I'll get her to call sis and that should help a lot. So please don't worry about it, okay?"

She tugged on his elbow again. "Come with me. I want to show you somewhere special. By the time we get back sis will be feeling better."

Huh, well damn, that was a neat disappearing trick. Convenient, too, that she got out of dealing with her shit instead of having to face her sister and work it out. Namur frowned at the now unoccupied chair, and shook his head.

"What, an' yer hunnerds a years t'gether not leavin' her don't count for shit, eh? Damn that sucks," he said, letting himself get tugged and heading in the indicated direction. "Oh well. Guess that's less time I gotta wait 'round. What's this special place y' wanna show me?"

"Well... That's not exactly..." A frown. "I'm not like how I was for most of our lives. Our minds were one. And I always had this thirst to go out and do things. And when we were away our voices would become more and more faint. She's always been afraid that I would find something I enjoy and leave her behind. But now that she can't know my mind it's a lot scarier for her."

She took Namur by the hand (as best she could) and began pulling him along. "You'll see. There are lakes here underground." As soon as they left the area around Chireiden itself it quickly was growing colder. A lot colder. But Koishi didn't seem to mind. Off to the left Namur could see the faint glittering shape of some hills in the dark, pockmarked by motes of strange light. Far off in the distance was an eerie red glow highlighting some truly frightening structures... But the direction they were headed in seemed to be misty, the hanging fog highlighted by a faint blue glow. It was some distance away but they would no doubt get there quickly with some brisk walking.

"Don't worry. Nothing scary really roams between home and where we're going. So there shouldn't be any problems."

"How long's it been since y' cut her off?" Namur asked. He assumed it was something that had happened a long time ago, not relatively recently. He went along with Koishi willingly enough, and while he noticed the cold, it wasn't like it worried him too much. His race flourishes ten thousand kilometers under the sea, in a passageway through the only continent in the world. He could take a little cold and a little darkness. Or eerily lit fog, as the case may have been.

"Nothin' scary, eh? Means there's somethin' skitterin' 'bout. What lives here?"

[Ted's footsteps crunched through the snow as he trudged toward the slab, heart heavy with anticipation at the result of his weekly, solemn ritual he reserved for Sundays. He knew Faye was gone; all that's left is to see how many accompanied that departure. Judging by how much longer the slab seemed, the prospects looked dim.

While he enjoys all weather, especially the kind that sports his favorite color, nature seemed to share a grave sympathy with the surroundings that afternoon. The maple and cherry trees adorning the park were skeletons compared to their usual greenery. It were as though the whole world were plucked and shorn of everything that wasn't evergreen. Even souls. And now he came to look, per his habit, at gray rock and all the gray souls that could not withstand this cleansing white.

Ted's silent as his finger underscored every name. Most he didn't know, though a good number he'd enjoyed talking with once or twice. But that, it seemed, was all, and a host of promises and potentialities were closed as he came to the end, kneeling beside the memorial.]

Seventy souls shunted out. Good God. What storm awaits this deadly calm?

[A question posed from his own dramatic superstition. He couldn't help but feel Genessia was building up to something; some advent that would not stand any but the most stalwart of its strangers. He's inspired to prayer, but for the approach that broke him out of these meditations.

It was Namur, probably there about Ace. What fate, Ted wondered, conspired these odd encounters? He breathed in, and greeted with a faint smile.]

Good afternoon. I'm tempted to say we should stop meeting like this.

Edited 2019-03-03 19:18 (UTC)

[It's not about Ace in particular- he would visit Ace's grave if it were. But Sabo and Faye and Selphie are gone and, while they hadn't been integral in his life here, they're still friends who deserve some parting respects. Namur smiles at Ted, sitting cross-legged in front of the stele and opening a bottle of sake.]

Can think a worse ways a meetin' up.

[Namur glances upward, noticing the new length of the list of names, and whistles between his teeth.]

Damn, no wonder everbody's bitchin' on the network.

[He raises the bottle toward the new names, then pours it out slowly over the rock face.]

Wind in yer sails an' a followin' sea, y' bastards. May y' find what yer lookin' for out there wherever y's gone.

[Once the bottle is empty he sets it to the side with a sigh.]

'S it weird I'm kinda glad? Means there's the possibility a some a these folks that I knowed comin' back with the same memries as me. Even though it'd be kinda a pain in the ass if they did. Sheheh! Didn't interrupt y', did I?

[Ted watched the sake trickle over the slab, smiling.]

Libation, eh? I wondered whether you knew ritual.

[One less thing to worry about. For a moment Ted's tempted to do something similar, taking out his phone to write an epitaph. It makes it halfway out before he puts it back again. He used to make his own mark on the stone with bad poetry, but he gave that up. Everyone else had. Why bother? Why waste words on those who wouldn't read them? If he had something to say, he should've said it before.]

Eheh, I'm not one to judge weirdness with any legitimacy.

[So many, with far more experience with the fantastic and strange thought Ted stranger still. And yet, Namur's contentment did feel strange to him. Too calm, too tame to tolerate. Whenever Ted sees the slab, he feels it like the banner of an enemy; a proud proclamation of their defeat. In a defiant way, born of his youthful vehemence and a reaction to Namur's tranquility, Ted's heart smoldered. Someone ought to be upset about it. He wanted to tear it down; to fight and struggle and win. If he only knew how. There had to be some measure he could take. Some action, however small, to rebel. Even if it was as irresistible as gravity.

Maybe there was.]

Oh, no, you're fine. Fortuitous, perhaps. I wonder whether it isn't morbid to view it alone so much. Namur, of those newly added you were close to, did you notice anything peculiar near the end?

[To Namur, leaving this or any alternate world is similar to leaving for the next island. Maybe you die, maybe you end up where you started from, or maybe you find new horizons to explore. He and Marco and Grell have managed to stick together in some form or another between several worlds, sometimes willfully pulling each other through realities. Ace and Thatch have come and gone more times than Namur can count, but seem to also inevitably turn up at some point. And Rip had followed them, too. He can't see other peoples' comings or goings as an enemy to be subdued, much like a tempest isn't an antagonist to defeat. It's simply something that is. Learning to weather it, to position oneself to best withstand the wild waves and high winds and not lose hope of eventual sunlight, that's what Namur thinks people ought to be doing. There are plenty of other things a person can choose to live for.]

Not particularly. Ace kept hisself outta trouble awhile, but it ain't like he weren't always capable a that from the get go...

Why?

Edited 2019-03-13 20:15 (UTC)

[From what he knows of Ace, that didn't sound like him at all. If he wasn't making trouble, he might as well not be breathing. He was usually up to something, even if it was idiotic. Ted swallowed and nodded.]

I see. Just confirming a guess.

[He'd rather not elaborate. After all, he doesn't know concretely why people leave. But then, he's not concretely sure of free will either, yet he lives according to that truth because one has to choose, even in the midst of doubt. Still, it didn't seem a truth worth arguing about. There was probably some charity expressed in supposing it was as innocent as Namur thought. As to Ted, what he ought to do next was as urgent as it was uncertain. He'd never made the attempt.

First time for everything, so here goes nothing.]

Namur, please promise me something.

[He went along without waiting for response.]

Should you ever feel...hopeless, or depressed, or listless, like you're trapped in an inescapable rut, or...you know, dreadfully lethargic. Like it's too much to get out of bed; like waking is as dull as sleep. If apathy, in any of its forms, casts a pall over you, would you please talk to me of it?

[Namur looks surprised for a moment, then pensive.

He has felt that way before, though it's been years. He's taken back to his days at Trabia Garden, in the immediate aftermath of having watched a traitorous brother steal his father's life- and his Devil's Fruit ability as well. It broke the bounds of what should have been possible and then...

And then the earth had cracked open and swallowed Namur whole, and his entire perception of what was and was not possible had shattered entirely.

Thatch had been dead for months, but somehow he was the one to find Namur and tend to his wounds. Thatch claimed to have never died, just gone somewhere else, and would kick him so hard he couldn't breathe if he talked about Teach or the war or anyone that had been lost. There'd been no ocean in Trabia, only frozen mountain reaches and tiny humans that considered he and his brother to be giants. He'd taken to soaking in water troughs meant for livestock in order to wet his gills, and hunting snow lions to offset the hunger cooked human food always left- until he found the lion's fur caused other problems and made the whole situation worse. That new world had been nothing but a feeling of loss, pain, and confusion. In return for the natives taking him in he'd been expected to join a local mercenary military, an international peacekeeping organization that tasted like Marines, but tolerable if only because they did not also taste like some otherworldly equivalent of Celestial Dragons.

There had been many days, back then, when he didn't care if he woke up again or not. Maybe entire weeks. He couldn't remember clearly. What he did remember was that eventually he'd found his feet again. And other than being in such fierce denial that he deprived Namur of his ability to openly mourn, Thatch had been there to help drag him out of that darkness, and slowly come to embrace a new way of living. It was hard to imagine anything bringing him that low for that long ever again. But it had happened in an instant, like dousing the flame of a candle, and Namur now knew he wasn't invincible to it.

He takes a deep breath. If he ever got that way again, Ted was probably last on his list of people he'd want to talk to. He couldn't ever do anything right in the smolt's eyes, and he doubted having the lengthy list of superficial sins Ted knew about rehearsed to him in a moment of weakness would do him any sort of good whatsoever. But maybe if he hit that point he wouldn't want to show Rip or Rowan or Marco, either. So what the hell, why not go to the one who already views him as common sea scum? Namur chuckles.]

A'ight, sure. Goes both ways though, aye? I'unno what the hell I could ever say t' y' t' help bring y' outta it, but sometimes 's important t' not keep shit quiet, catch me?

[One of the reactions Ted expected was to be laughed and boasted at. Namur had made claims of invincibility before. As he watched Namur's changing, thoughtful expression, he knew that wouldn't be the case. Good, he thought. If it had been some flippant confidence, he wouldn't have believed it.]

Eheh, sometimes, eh? A mountain of quiet just went by.

[By now it's familiar when Namur's thinking much and saying little. He should know; he does that too, which is why he's only observing, and not critical. It felt a little off; he'd just asked to be used as a safeguard against despair, after all. If that's granted, why not other vulnerabilities? But then, it's no good pressing if you don't have to...isn't it?]

Well, the rash oath's given. Don't worry; I doubt you'll ever have to.

[Whatever Ted's sins, he doubts despair is among the top. Despite all the loss and heartache, he remained. If he didn't have what it took to survive in Genessia, who did? Sure, he got sorrowful in exact proportion to how much he loved, which meant a lot of sorrow indeed. But he never, ever doubted that he or anyone else was here but for a reason. There was a destiny awaiting fulfillment, and like all destinies, it was good. He just had to meet it. It's inevitable, so long as he stays the course. This, then, was his attempt to ensure another met theirs.

But then, why Namur, of all people? Because he just happened to be the first one available to try this experiment? Perhaps. Because at least half the Whitebeard pirates were proven flight risks who weren't enough for each other? Certainly. Was it out of gratitude? Love?

If so, it was a very strained love. "Scum" might've fit the bill, though "common" certainly didn't. Ted had tried to say what he really thought during their first haki session, though Namur proved more interested in hitting him than letting that cynicism go challenged. Truth is, Namur wasn't the only one who felt perpetually punished.

Ted, being a simple soul, is wont to believe the good in others others tell him, explicitly or otherwise. And what were Namur's?

That he defended the weak, like in Whitebeard's heyday? Not if he believed in the universe of predator and prey, which meant, at bottom, that the weak were destroyed.

That he wished for Everglade's welfare, the thing that sparked their acquaintance in the beginning? What a shock, then, to find that Jolly Eddy's only motive was mercenary.

That he stood against slavery and for liberty? A little digging proved that, if the circumstances were different, he'd go so far as to say that slavery was a right if one needed it desperately enough.

That he preferred truth over fabrication? Then what was he doing with Marco's subarchway, which tore out his own brother's reality only to provide a comforting falsehood?

It wasn't just that Namur was wrong; he was wrong in all the ways he should've been right. If ever Ted trafficked in despair, it was as a punishment for being naive enough to believe in advertisement. What virtue could he hold up that Namur wouldn't eventually beat down?

There was one, but he dare not say it: self-sacrifice. That virtue, to Ted, was more terrifying than any vice, for it meant death for his sake. How could he encourage that? How could he tell someone that they were at their best when he was at his worst? That they shone brightest when they were in the grave?

So he points out hypocrisy, he chastises, he tries to remove dross from ore and give the faithful wounds of a friend. But Namur didn't see it that way; to him, they were just wounds. To Ted, there was nothing superficial about those sins. He knew virtues enlarged a person; made a self more itself, whereas vices shrank and killed them. What else can he do but hate them, and make war over them? The more he loved, the more he hated the deadly infirmities of the beloved.

Even so, Ted's aware that love-born hatred only goes so far. He could stand to reward a little more; to grow as well as prune. Yet even that surface negativity was born of a deep optimism: that if the thorns were only clipped, the rose would come into and quite on its own.]

Thanks for agreeing so readily. Oh, before I forget, I believe I've finally found out the meaning of your name, if it won't scandalize you too much to hear it.

Fair 'nuff, but it ain't a mountain, 's water under the bridge.

[Namur waves it off dismissively. Ted's right, he probably won't ever have to. But it's kind of nice to know he can. He chuckles again.]

Called my Ma up an' asked her what the hell she was thinkin', eh? Sure, lay it on me.

[No offense to his mother, but Ted figures she put as much care and consideration into that as the rest of his upbringing. Yet that made it more mystical and significant, as though a superior unknown worked through the unknowing. A man saying something is usual. An ass saying something commands attention.]

It wasn't easy; a red herring nearly defeated me, led as I was down the meaningless meanderings of the Micronesian and the Marshallese--a tropical people, so I thought them a fit.

I had to go gravedigging in the lost and faded tongue of the Celts to find anything. Well, the form comes from "Namuco" which signifies a...temple, or sacred grove.

[He was serenely shut up after that, letting it sit and enjoying the honey of it. That the name, at least, ultimately proved sanctified made him reverently content. Then again, knowing Namur that probably means a forest fire in the future.]

[If an ass saying something commands attention, people ought to be enraptured by Namur's every word.

Namur scratches just below his gills, head cocked to the side.]

Never heard a none a them folk. They from yer world?

[~~Well he definitely knows a Marshall~~

Is that the premonition of doubt? It better not be doubt. He prepares pen and paper on top of the void, just in case.]

Of course.

[Uh huh.

Well, it's a cute thought. Too bad it has absolutely nothing to do with where he came from.

Namur smacks Ted on the back.]

Good job trackin' it down, Smolt. Sounds like y' put a shitload a effort int' it for me.

[He might've accepted the congratulations better, if they didn't feel dismissive.]

It was my pleasure. Do you believe it?

Sailed all over the world an' I ain't never met a single Celt. So no, I really don't think whatever it meant t' them's what it means t' anybody in my world. But I do believe y' put a shitload a effort int' it, which means y' was thinkin' a me when I weren't 'round, 'nuff t' motivate y' t' some kinda action. 'S a way a showin' y' give a shit, aye? So thanks, for yer time, effort, an' givin' a shit. Means a lot.

[He was denied one satisfaction in exchange for another. How to respond?

Ted was prepared to be gloomy again; nothing unusual there when it comes to their conversations. He'd wanted to give something, some clue to one's deepest meanings and destiny. It didn't take. He couldn't quite argue with the reasoning, either. Even if he'd tested it, even if he'd proved that their language and characters shared many striking parallels, he still couldn't claim the onomastics with complete certainty.

So it was vain. Ted and vanity are old enemies, growing bitterer all the time. Well, Namur said that the goodwill behind it was good enough. He couldn't help but look again at the slab, and all the names for whom it certainly wasn't.

One in particular he had the misery of losing twice, and before the last departure he'd sent a letter effusively packed with all the goodwill in the world. There was no reply, and eventually, no receiver. After that, Ted lost hope that he'd ever mean anything to anyone when it really mattered. If he couldn't keep the ones he loved most from the abyss, what good was he? That taught him full well what thinking and caring for others meant: not enough.

But a name? That might help. There's a meaning he hasn't tried before. That could provide something to try and live for, if nothing else. Maybe so many wouldn't quit their destinies if they had some clue, however faint, about them.

Yet that was not to be. What might possibly work lost to the tried-and-untrue. Even so, Namur seemed sincere. The effort had yielded a good, even if the good's demonstrably not good enough. It's better than nothing, and if he hates vanity as much as he says, he'd better take it.]

Sorry I missed the mark. You're welcome.

[God willing, one day he'll find what will work. Or bring an end to this rotten system altogether. Whichever comes first. He stood up, stretched, and shivered.]

Goodness it's cold. Well, suppose I'll see you at the office. Good morning.

[Namur takes that as a cue, and stands and stretches as well.]

Yup, later t'night when I start my shift. Don't let nothin' too crazy happen while I'm asleep, eh? Sheheheh!

Catchall for Feb/March

Valentine's Day Adventures with Koishi (Chireiden Subarch, Fayren- Feb 14)

Re: Valentine's Day Adventures with Koishi (Chireiden Subarch, Fayren- Feb 14)

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BIG SIS TWISTING THE KNIFE (1/3)

No knives! (2/3)

No knives, only dreams. (3/3)

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Sorry had so many things going on all at once.

It happens! No stress XD

Re: It happens! No stress XD

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Memoria Park (Gen. City, Feb 17)

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