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Entry tags:
The Way of the Eagle [Action, Open & Closed]
Who: Ted, Komeiji Sisters
What: Ted apologizes and bares his mind to youkai
When: Evening
Where: Fayren outskirts
Warnings: verbosity
[A meeting had been arranged between the Fool and Strength. No lions were involved, thankfully, and they had chosen as poetical and amicable a location as they could: A hill. Not quite the flat Earth of man, and not quite the chilly mountains of the 'enlightened' Youkai. For intimacy's sake It was in the evening, not quite imposing on either's curfew. The moon shed its dim, borrowed illumination, and Ted felt it very appropriate. So much so that, as is his wont, he was inspired to verse.]
"Queen, and huntress, chaste and fair,
Now the sun is laid to sleep,
Seated in thy silver chair,
State in wonted manner keep:
Hesperus entreats thy light,
Goddess excellently bright.
Earth, let not thy envious shade
Dare itself to interpose;
Cynthia's shining orb was made
Heaven to clear when day did close:
Bless us then with wishèd sight,
Goddess excellently bright.
Lay thy bow of pearl apart,
And thy crystal shining quiver;
Give unto the flying hart
Space to breathe, how short soever:
Thou that mak'st a day of night,
Goddess excellently bright."
[He's glad they were meeting out of Old Hell, or the subarchway that was named after the same. Kind of her, Ted thought, to choose somewhere outside. Somewhere natural, or as natural as Genessia could manage. So long as he's thinking, Ted thought it a little odd that a Youkai would like anything other than the harsh, uncompromising abode of nature, rather than something supernaturally tinged like 'Hell'. And then he laughed at himself, for Satori would now be privy to these and other discursive thoughts. After all this time, that was still what she wanted? She loved telepathy so much that she'd prefer the meanderings of his brain?
Apparently. He knew the subject matter was one of humble pie and the pain of contrition. Yet the night was not foreboding. Inviting, even. The Moon, perhaps, made it so. "A day of night" indeed! Even the prospect of having the contents of his brain laid bare gave a slight but noticeable trill of pleasure. It was, after all, a novelty, and Ted always loved those. He thought he wouldn't; thought some horrible secret of his would be found out and then something ambiguous and terrible would follow.
It hadn't. He had to laugh, for the present was so like and unlike the past. They had argued, apologized, and reconciled then, too. Was this a circle that indicated vain repetition? Perhaps a spiral; going around, but higher and farther than before. Things felt positively different; the scenery was healthier, as he walked a faint trail to the agreed upon hill with a thin veneer of grass. The moon cast its dim light. He thought of that lunar poetry: of simple advance, not knowing why one went on, but going on solely because going on is intrinsically more appealing than staying behind. A followed promise; an opened door. He knew not what lay ahead; only that it was worth seeing. Better something new, if perilous, than the old and the dead.
Up he went and up he gazed, observing that silver-white disc. The sky blended its wondrous shades of purple and blue. Dark clouds were the moon's company, drifting along the horizon. The hill beneath graciously accepted those shades, subduing its bright summer green for the horizon's colorful darkness.
Ted spotted Satori sitting on the grass, hard to see even with lunar light. There was something predatory about her, as in the legends of old. "I'm in for it now", Ted thought. And yet, it was a comic predation. It reminded him a little of his mother after he had made some gaffe, which honesty compelled to reveal before discovery. Why, he thought, does she seem so much older and younger than himself?
The evening was so quiet; it felt a little vulgar to disturb it with talk of anything. He laughed again; but of course he needn't talk. Or else, from his head he'd be talking whether he wanted to or not. Satori would suss out everything, wouldn't she? In that case, he may as well talk. He closed the distance between them.]
"Good evening, Satori. Apologies for rudeness."
What: Ted apologizes and bares his mind to youkai
When: Evening
Where: Fayren outskirts
Warnings: verbosity
[A meeting had been arranged between the Fool and Strength. No lions were involved, thankfully, and they had chosen as poetical and amicable a location as they could: A hill. Not quite the flat Earth of man, and not quite the chilly mountains of the 'enlightened' Youkai. For intimacy's sake It was in the evening, not quite imposing on either's curfew. The moon shed its dim, borrowed illumination, and Ted felt it very appropriate. So much so that, as is his wont, he was inspired to verse.]
"Queen, and huntress, chaste and fair,
Now the sun is laid to sleep,
Seated in thy silver chair,
State in wonted manner keep:
Hesperus entreats thy light,
Goddess excellently bright.
Earth, let not thy envious shade
Dare itself to interpose;
Cynthia's shining orb was made
Heaven to clear when day did close:
Bless us then with wishèd sight,
Goddess excellently bright.
Lay thy bow of pearl apart,
And thy crystal shining quiver;
Give unto the flying hart
Space to breathe, how short soever:
Thou that mak'st a day of night,
Goddess excellently bright."
[He's glad they were meeting out of Old Hell, or the subarchway that was named after the same. Kind of her, Ted thought, to choose somewhere outside. Somewhere natural, or as natural as Genessia could manage. So long as he's thinking, Ted thought it a little odd that a Youkai would like anything other than the harsh, uncompromising abode of nature, rather than something supernaturally tinged like 'Hell'. And then he laughed at himself, for Satori would now be privy to these and other discursive thoughts. After all this time, that was still what she wanted? She loved telepathy so much that she'd prefer the meanderings of his brain?
Apparently. He knew the subject matter was one of humble pie and the pain of contrition. Yet the night was not foreboding. Inviting, even. The Moon, perhaps, made it so. "A day of night" indeed! Even the prospect of having the contents of his brain laid bare gave a slight but noticeable trill of pleasure. It was, after all, a novelty, and Ted always loved those. He thought he wouldn't; thought some horrible secret of his would be found out and then something ambiguous and terrible would follow.
It hadn't. He had to laugh, for the present was so like and unlike the past. They had argued, apologized, and reconciled then, too. Was this a circle that indicated vain repetition? Perhaps a spiral; going around, but higher and farther than before. Things felt positively different; the scenery was healthier, as he walked a faint trail to the agreed upon hill with a thin veneer of grass. The moon cast its dim light. He thought of that lunar poetry: of simple advance, not knowing why one went on, but going on solely because going on is intrinsically more appealing than staying behind. A followed promise; an opened door. He knew not what lay ahead; only that it was worth seeing. Better something new, if perilous, than the old and the dead.
Up he went and up he gazed, observing that silver-white disc. The sky blended its wondrous shades of purple and blue. Dark clouds were the moon's company, drifting along the horizon. The hill beneath graciously accepted those shades, subduing its bright summer green for the horizon's colorful darkness.
Ted spotted Satori sitting on the grass, hard to see even with lunar light. There was something predatory about her, as in the legends of old. "I'm in for it now", Ted thought. And yet, it was a comic predation. It reminded him a little of his mother after he had made some gaffe, which honesty compelled to reveal before discovery. Why, he thought, does she seem so much older and younger than himself?
The evening was so quiet; it felt a little vulgar to disturb it with talk of anything. He laughed again; but of course he needn't talk. Or else, from his head he'd be talking whether he wanted to or not. Satori would suss out everything, wouldn't she? In that case, he may as well talk. He closed the distance between them.]
"Good evening, Satori. Apologies for rudeness."
no subject
"Koishi's not too far from here. She'll join us, whether you'd like her here or not. And that means we've plenty of time to talk." For a moment, her third eye turned and peered at him. That noise, that static, that emptiness was gone. A pause. Her tone changed, as if she was chiding Ted for being so slow on the uptake. He always was, really. "I understand that dealing with someone like me must be rather confusing, don't you think? I feel much the same way, in regards to you. I've caught wind of your overblown verses part-way up the hillside."
For a moment, she looked skyward, watching the moon as well. Why did the humans hold such an unusual care towards it? Her gaze shifted to Ted, meeting his gaze with all three eyes. "I suppose I mustn't dance around the issue much longer: your honesty is refreshing. After all, I am a rather jaded, old youkai when one reaches the heart of the matter. Humans are interesting to me, as much as they are utterly impenetrable, even with my abilities. And yet...as much as we might be at odds, I can't really say I despise you. That isn't to say that I haven't grown rather exasperated at you. You exasperate me greatly, sometimes, and drive me to conniptions just trying to understand half of what you say. And your actions recently...perhaps I should pace myself. But, needless to say, at least you are aware your actions had consequences, even if you attempted to flee from them. Our kind are monsters, but we can still be harmed by words. And yet, when I assumed you'd have turned your back on me, here you are. I needn't ask why that is. Your uncertainty says it all for you."
Satori still sounded a little bitter, but at the same time, offered a faint chuckle under her breath and she couldn't help but keep going. "No two beings can fully understand each other. This is fundamentally the trouble that self-aware creatures have, human or otherwise. And while we are made of different matter and have different minds, we still think, feel and act. Cogito Ergo Sum, so they say." Decartes. Seems she's been reading a lot more philosophy, these days. A sigh released itself from the mind-reader. "Our conflicting minds and thoughts aren't exactly wrong, either, Ted. We're altogether different, but there's something I can tell you aside from that: to reveal your mind to me at least shows me you aren't merely acting out your remorse."
no subject
Slight chuckles and giggles peppered their talk; Satori might see that his mind was always on the lookout for something comic, and usually found it. Whether he wanted to see Koishi or not? That would imply that he might not, itself implying that he might have a reason not to. "Yes," he remembered, "she was very upset. My skill in stoking wrath must be exemplary to make one as 'empty' as her feel so much." Still, he didn't dread. What calamity could Koishi really bring? He felt himself relishing her absence; it might be fun to speak of her without her immediate presence. Not so much behind her back as...outside her purview?
"Yes," he admitted with shy humor. "Very confusing."
Their last conversation on her inbox had sent him into a tizzy of research. He had flipped through so many tomes. Surely Feser, or Aquinas, or Aristotle, or someone had the answers he so desperately sought. How do you deal with Youkai you like? Are they not unjust, tertiary creatures? Cancerous figments of the imagination? How would one attend to the soul of the soulless?
Nothing came up. He was tempted to curse the Bible for not mentioning Youkai. But then, it had its select purpose and he couldn't reasonably despise it for its limits. Nonetheless, he was in mental gridlock and hardly knew the way out. Then he thought of something altogether different. The way out of thought.
He chuckled again. "I am glad you do not despise me." Despising them was a temptation attuned to tradition. That was how things proceeded in the beginning, wasn't it? Charging them with torches and pitchforks. Perhaps it might be done again. But since they had grown older and subtler, so would he. Thus, he would nimbly evade the two devils and, when they came, ruthlessly mock and quote scripture. Maybe stone, if stones were handy. It would have tidied up the matter of the subarchway nicely. "How efficient!" he'd have praised. "We're rather short on exorcists. Lucky for us, then, that the demons are banishing themselves." He could've reckoned them as devils and turned to convivial contempt.
No full understanding? That, Ted thought, seemed a little defeatist. Maybe they might, in heaven, where God understood everyone and everyone, in their beatitude, saw God.
He had another shy grin. Yes, he decided. They were very vulgar. They seemed always to be talking about themselves. Youkai and humanity, on and on. It was like that in the beginning, too. One day they might, he hoped, advance enough to talk about, say, what interests them, and know each other in the roundabout way common to the socially sophisticated.
"You're not as old as I expected." Not quite an insult and not quite a compliment. He thought of the wise old grandmother in The Princess and the Goblin. Indeed, being old and wise was synonymous in most fairy tales. Perhaps, he thought innocently, issuing from man's demented superstitions made their wisdom not all it ought to be. The very idea that Ted could confound them, with so many centuries to their name, rang ridiculous. But then, that's part of fairy tales too. The stupid small thing triumphs over the large and imposing thing through simple tricks. Who should be more mature? Which of the two should console the immature stupidities of the other?
He laughed and gave up the question.
no subject
"Sis. I'm back. The cuts aren't as neat as they usually are since the knife is new and I'm not sure how to use it perfectly yet. But it should taste just fine with some rice and soy sauce."
She placed the bowl down. Yep. That was absolutely raw fish. Though washed and cut as it was it didn't look too bad.
"Maybe get the tempura out and the sashimi too... And the custard and the miso soup." Koishi listed a few other things as she helped her sister take them out one at a time.
It was only then she turned to address Ted, her tone much softer than when he last heard it on the phone. "You're here too. And you're being nice again. That's good. Honestly Sis and I were worried that you would come and attack us. So we weren't sure if you would be joining us for dinner of if you would be dinner. I'm glad it's the former."
She tilted her head. "And your mind is rippling again. Under flowers and glass with a clear note. that's good too. You seem much more balanced now Mister Spades. Which puts my mind at ease too."
Koishi settled down next to Satori, removing her hat and placing it on the older youkai's head before snuggling against her side. She pointed at an extra bowl and chopsticks set aside for him. Presumably where he was going to be sitting.
no subject
Satori found Ted's internal (or eternal?) confusion equally amusing. Even if they weren't the same, they could still find each other amusing, mysterious and interesting, nonetheless. "The concept that we are quite different always seems to perplex you, Ted. It's almost as if you seek some kind of understanding of Koishi and I on a deeper level, yet in coming so close us, your fear or worry is clouded by a legitimate wish to make the effort. None have truly tried, let alone succeeded. Who knows if you'll be as lucky."
The elder youkai's smile, wry as always, turned out to be an affectionate one this time. She was only a little startled when Koishi suddenly returned to common perception, but thankfully, she'd at least come back on time. "Excellent work, Koishi. You've done a marvellous job with this bounty. I suspect even Ted's appetites will be sated by something like this."
And to Ted... "However strange it might seem to your palate, sashimi is quite a delicacy where you come from, I assume? Expanding even your tastebuds to new horizons might do you some sort of good."
It seems Koishi had forgiven Ted for his transgressions, at least. Satori was still very much pointed and barbed but couldn't entirely stay angry, either. Instead, she found this much better. Adjusting Koishi's hat on her head, she found herself with a small but slightly more obvious smile.
She, too, gestures to the bowl and chopsticks... "Take your ease, and we might talk more about these matters, later. For now, let's direct our thoughts to something much more pleasant." The moon, a fresh meal, perhaps a friend brought back to his senses. "Let us eat well and embrace this moment for what it is: a fond one, I should hope."
no subject
He couldn't quite enjoy the joke about their monstrous appetites. His disturbance lasted only a little as he dutifully took his place on the blanket. "Thank you," he said, in a faint, expansive way suggesting more than gratitude for the meal. Speaking of which, Ted stopped himself from eating too quickly to remember to say grace. He insisted on the ritual.
Well, if Satori wanted to speak about the why's and wherefore's later, he'd oblige. Ted's skill in not thinking about things is peerless. Still, one thought echoed throughout everything: none have tried. None? In so many years?
There was something terribly exciting about that. Even if doing all this was a vain mistake, it was, at the very least, a new thing. For him that makes it worth it. And what, precisely, is he trying to do? Evangelize? Something along those lines. Goodness, he thought. Even Christ didn't do that in earnest until his thirties, and that was among his own kind! He wondered if he wasn't in over his head. Which made him laugh again, for that was precisely what The Moon would want.
no subject
Koishi did finally let her sister go, picking up her own bowl and helping herself to the rice and the raw fish she had brought and the sashimi- whatever that was... It looked raw too though, actually, though it had clearly been carefully prepared and marinated. And it certainly wasn't fish. Knowing Satori's hunting preferences it was likely deer.
At least the tempura didn't seem raw. In fact most didn't even seem to be meat. They were vegetables, breaded and presumably fried. There were also several roasted sweet potatoes next to the tempura.
Likewise the egg custard was still hot and it was surprisingly solid. Ted would find that it wasn't sweet in the slightest. In fact, it seemed to have a variety of goodies in it. Including steamed shrimp!
Mugs of miso soup were also being passed around. In addition to the tea.
There was also a basket of something that hadn't been broken into yet.
Regardless, with an 'itadakimasu' Koishi dug in, going for a little bit of everything.
no subject
"For years, my sister and I had been despised for our gift and curse of reading minds. Thrown stones, monsters worse than us appearing at our door to shame and ridicule us, spoken and unspoken words of hatred from nearly everyone that realized our ability's darker depths. For so long, people have feared us. And even if we feed upon the fear of humans, it is difficult for us to be feared and hated. But because of this, my sister wounded herself physically and I've more than a few of my own mental scars to show for it."
Satori left a hanging pause between them and took up a piece of the venison sashimi rather delicately in her chopsticks. She was quite cognisant in giving Ted a moment to mull that over in his mind while she calmly placed it in the mouth, likely gauging Ted's reactions as she chewed.
"And look at us, now. In this new world, I've opened myself to others and Koishi has done many great things and good deeds for others, making our network of friends and allies much larger. I'm...not quite sure what I'd do without Kiryuin, yourself and everyone else I've met along the way. But that, of course, circuits the topic straight back to you."
Satori put down her bowl for the moment and looked right in his eyes, focused and rather intense. All the while, she reached for her mug of tea, drinking deep. "Despite your attempts to introduce me to your beliefs at times, I believe your God must be rather noble in embodying forgiveness for others - even if at the same time, he wishes monsters and demons away. But, under the right circumstances, humans may be just as cruel as the foulest demon. I hope you're aware of that. Such sinners, we both agree, belong in Hell."
Satori chuckled a bit. Debating theology was always a pastime of hers, when Ted was involved. "A little more on topic: Regardless of what troubles you do have with my sister and I, you don't seem nearly as cruel to cast us to the wolves. That's a small glimmer of hope for the both of us. Moreover, you've seen fit to accompany me many a place, willing or unwilling, so I just might have to get used to you..." Quite deviously (devilishly?), Satori points to the side, and when Koishi turns her head she placed a tiny object into Koishi's serving of custard when she's not looking. Closer inspection reveals it's a tiny toothpick-flag with an image of a rose on it. For the briefest moment, Ted might be able to notice a rather amused smirk cross her face, swiftly reaching for another morsel of food as if nothing was amiss.
Even Satori, as dour and bitter as she was, could have a little fun with her younger sister, after all.
She paused for a moment, taking her bowl and chopsticks back up to keep eating , continuing only once she'd swallowed her next mouthful and before Koishi might feel an opportunity to turn back around. "...In some way, I think you are in over your head, talking to a pair of centuries-old people about their lives as if you understand how that feels. And yet, your curiosity is refreshing to me. To us. But you needn't be a preacher or prophet, Ted. All I ask is that you be..."
It had been so many years since she'd said such a thing.
"...our friend."
What would Ted say in response, she wondered. Then again, the moment he thought of something, she'd already know.
"You don't need to say a thing, Ted."
The Moon (1/2)
The challenge of The Moon. He envisioned its obstacles: the wolf, the dog, and the two towers. He could've agreed to come out of a simple, servile desire to please. Because he liked them and wanted to fuel his nostalgia. The dog. He could've refused her on equal yet opposite grounds; because they did things he disliked and spite could come just as easily. The wolf.
Too simple; he set the canines aside. That left the towers: thesis and antithesis. On the one hand, it is good to be kind and make yourself agreeable to your friends, when one can. On the other, the barrier was armor, and what good, dutiful warrior--like he sometimes fancied himself to be--would so carelessly discard armor so painstakingly forged? The morality came at a crossroads, and it was impossible to reconcile both. His thoughts had twisted and writhed endlessly and fruitlessly around that perilous, moon-lit landscape, and he found no answers. Only anxiety.
Once he'd exhausted himself trying to find them, it was not until he considered The Moon, in and of itself, that the answer, or at least the way to it, was revealed. It did not seem, at last, to be a question of appeasement, or of satisfying this or that dogma. The choices narrowed down to two: the way of the scorpion, or the way of the eagle. The former involved armoring to the utmost; shutting himself away from the Komeijis, sinking back into the depths, content with what he had and none too eager to lose for what he couldn't be absolutely sure he'd gain.
The way of ascent held no such surety. It asked for a leap of faith, and so could not, as a a matter of pure and plain principle, give grounds for its demands for flight. The only way forward was upward. He was dealing with something utterly new, something his brain had not and could not conceive. No amount of thinking could take him there. Nothing articulate was strong enough. The true wisdom lay buried in the dark and the light that ruled over the night. The circle, however clear, was closed, and only action--thoughtless, perhaps--could break it. And so The Moon posed its riddle: sink into what you know, or rise into what you don't? Will you have a closed or open door?
Well, he's here, isn't he? He chuckled again, thinking of how often Koishi had tried to reason with him, and how unsuited she was for the work. Bless her, she made the effort, however far outside her wheelhouse. How poetic that he only knew what she was trying to say when she gave silence. She might be the wisest woman on earth, Ted thought, If she never spoke.
Force (2/2)
Cerebral activity crowded out the visceral, however, and other appetites prevailed. He couldn't hold back a snicker as he listened to Satori talk, especially the way she talked. It tended so easily to broad and expansive speechifying. No wonder Koishi pushed her into politics if that style came so naturally to her. Perhaps, Ted thought, automatic telepaths are so intensely intimate as a matter of course that coarser talk is part of that balance they're so fond of.
"Curse and blessing", eh? His thoughts flicked to his bag, the void. He wondered if their feelings were really so foreign.
Thoughts of Satori led to others. Another reason he had gone through with undoing the barrier was to redeem himself from hypocrisy, for that's the same sort of thing he'd hoped from her. To give up comforts and sure pleasures she did know for abstract, far-off things she didn't, all for faiths' sake. The subarchway business again, in other words. His worry over it had shrunk, though not vanished entirely. It made sense, he thought, that she would be Koishi's inferior in that regard. The intellect was, after all, the weakest part of a man. Perhaps it's the same for Youkai. However much he reasoned and argued and exhorted, in the end all he had was the promise of better things he couldn't demonstrate. A reversal of the maxim: two birds in the bush for one in hand.
He laughed. Here are those two birds he wanted. But they aren't in his hands yet. He'd let go, and so opened his hands to receive something more. There was still grasping to do.
Was he asking too much? Satori had just told him how much progress she was making, and how quickly. No, he thought. Life and death are all-or-nothing games. He's glad, of course, that Satori is having her own updraft and forward momentum. But if it doesn't carry one to heaven, then it's all for the naught of hell.
Would heaven be such a hard sell to the soulless? Ted didn't think so. Their Valentine's date was so long ago, but he still fondly remembers. Especially her singing. She was merely humoring him when she did it; he doubted she meant the hymns. Suppose she did mean them? Advanced beyond mildly praising God to loving Him? Ted couldn't quite picture something so grand and impossible. Satori, he sometimes thought, was cursed with too many eyes and too much sight. Could one such as that learn to walk by faith? But if she could...why, it would increase her inner beauty as much as longer hair would increase her outer, if not more.
Indeed, it seemed only appropriate. The tragicomic story the Komeijis were penning was one of most brutal nature rising and responding to something better. That was what Force meant. The principle of the virgin; of nature putting on super-nature by acquiescing to the divine. The eye would not covet nor scrutinize, like a basilisk, but see and perceive, like the angelic wheels. Bend the knee and lift the soul. Exaltavit humiles.
Ted tittered, thoughts rising into something like rapture. It seemed too good to be true. A Youkai worshiping God? The worst superstition turning towards the best? And yet, that was precisely what Strength meant. The brutish becoming the beatific. Oh, if only it could happen now! This very instant! If the flesh and blood of men appealed so much, just wait till they have the Eucharist!
They'd be better than just friends, then. Oh, make no mistake, Ted enjoyed his friendship. It was his dearest pleasure, and succored his sorrowful spirit when he had to give up his pokemon. Again he felt like Satori: where would he be without his friends?
It was good, but it wasn't the best. If Satori were strong enough--virginal enough to join the ranks of the faithful, "friend" wouldn't suffice. They would call each other something else; something no man has ever called a Youkai, he's sure.
Ted's rising and roistering religious reveries died down, giving way to the tender and the personal. What would he say? What could he truly say, both in his mouth and mind?
Sister Satori. The sweetness of his pierced his heart and wet his eye.
Sister Satori. It had a nice ring to it.
1/2
"Umm... Sis? Did you sense something by thought again? Because I don't see..." She looked down at her food, blinking at the little flag, and immedeately pounced on her sister. She squished their cheeks together, the hug accompanied by more than a few of the younger sister's tentacles. "Sis! You're silly! I got a flag and you're siillllyyyy!"
Unfortunately she didn't catch any of Ted's introspection. She could not read minds like her sister. Even so, she did incline her head a little at Ted's brief words, letting her sister go after a moment to pick up more venison. This bite, however, was offered to Satori... And by "offered" Koishi kind of half force-fed it to her sister. But her intentions were nothing but the best.
"Mister Spades! You should try the sashimi. It's really good." That didn't change the fact it was raw deer meat. She looked up at Ted. "And you should say what you're thinking too. You're not usually this quiet. Normally you talk way too much." At least Koishi was honest with her feelings.
2/2
"...Strength though I am, you seem to think I require other strengths, besides. You ought to see me as a rock of common sense in a world far from home."
Ted's ramblings and inner guesses about her nature were par for the course, so far. Satori couldn't help but laugh a little to herself, perhaps at some inscrutable thing Ted's mind that conjured. But even she couldn't deny that her time with Ted, though infuriating and sometimes exasperating was...'fun'.
"In your own way, you believe that even a Youkai can be forgiven. But that forgiveness need not start in your God. It only requires a little effort. Many of your holy figures were kindly to animals, were they not? And my defense...I am not a murderer nor a thief, a philanderer nor a blasphemer. I am myself, monster though I am, and I am only apt to place my faith in something I might trust. Perhaps not your beliefs, but in you as a person. In Ted, the steadfast - if misguided - friend to all."
Looking to Koishi for a moment - as Satori felt it was appropriate to give her a little signal in this regard, the mind-reader decided it was about time to tell a small tale. Who knows if it'd reach the Fool, let alone end up having any effect on him.
"There once was a conflict of faith in my home world. One figure, a calm-minded and enlightened one who enjoyed the company of Youkai and preached acceptance of humankind alongside them. The other, a blustering Saint of sorts who rallied humanity beneath her, claiming that humans deserved greater than what was owed. None of it appealed to me, having only heard it secondhand from Koishi. And what's more, neither of them really won out in the end, leaving them both in the same position they started. But the point of the story, however, is that promises are one thing and action is another."
The promise of Ted turning her to the eyes of God, the idea of 'Sister Satori', all that was well and good. The problem was that Youkai, of course, are Youkai. Old and set in their ways, even Satori's opening mind since entering Genessia had a hard time parsing that mindset at all. That said, the idea of a longer hairstyle or changes in her wardrobe might be something she'd have to look into.
From scanning his mind so carefully, peeling through the proselytizing nature of his speech and thought, he had some point. But she knew in her heart of hearts that if she attempted to join his beliefs, it would only lead to peril, as she'd already explained. Why then, did he constantly dream of the day he'd succeed in making her 'pious'?
"I only live as honestly as I might without losing sight of myself. To turn the other cheek, even in the face of a Youkai, is commendable. Though you should really be focussing more on the food." She let her third eye drift closer to the spread for a minute, sizing up things while taking furtive glances from its large pupil over to Ted.
Re: 2/2
But if that's what Koishi wants, he'd gladly oblige. Likely to her deep regret.
"Aha, it's funny. Satori, the sensible one, is privy to all my internal fancy. You, the silly one, hear only what I deem fit to print. Is that contradictory or complementary?
Anyway, I was thinking about The Moon, and Force. About eagles and scorpions. Aren't eagles very noble? One of the four beasts of the gospels, that. The others, of course, being the lion, ox, and the ah...man, I think. Satori, you must be fond of at least three of those, eh?"
He laughed at his own joke and to cover his own shyness.
"Heh, I even managed to daydream at evening. I thought how nice Satori would look with long hair. I also thought how extremely nice it would be to call you two...sisters..."
Saying these things out loud was a tender, tenuous thing for him. As if all his secret, happy hopes might show their fairytale-fragility and break upon speaking; a secret told, some trust betrayed. They were all being very candid tonight, weren't they? Laying their cards on the table. And yet, there was something that was both hidden and good. A beckoning from a place unseen that would not reveal itself just yet.
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Ted laughed and scooted away, bunching up the blanket as he avoided the sudden roughhousing between them. He adored them both, and he especially adored the way Satori handled it. No words of rebuke, no lashing out for wounded pride or solemnity. A gentle "All right, that's enough", silently asked and silently granted. Now that, Ted thought, is what Force looks like. Wouldn't she make a good mother? A fairy godmother, perhaps.
He laughed at her self-praise. "Well yes, that's the way of things, isn't it? Nothing's quite what it ought to be just yet. There may be some credence in the idea that we're living in a kind of purgatory. Still, ought I? I might need a second opinion. What do you think, Koishi? Is your sister's sagacity so simple?"
He had some trouble parsing Satori's talk. Goodness, he thought, how women talk. Now to comb through the noise for the signal.
"Oh, everything starts with God, more or less. First Cause and all that. And every sin is against Him as much as anything else. Ahaha, well I'm very glad you don't put faith in things you don't trust. Goodness, Satori; what on earth do you suppose 'faith' means?"
He looked away and warmed at the compliment. Friend to all? Goodness, that's flattering. Would be nice if true; to some he was not especially friendly. What did she mean by that?
The tale was a strange one; unsatisfactory, for an estimation. A story that ran too short and seemed to mean too little. It was a good enough joke, however.
"Ahaha, two idealogues don't get what they want. They have my sympathy; perhaps my empathy. I know the feeling very well. Alas, I'm afraid the didactism of the tale is a little lost on me. Were they not sufficiently actionable? Did they need to do great deeds or something?"
Sadly, his powers of intellect could not penetrate her last.
"Hmm. That sounds suspiciously like that old saw: 'to thine own self be true'; a pernicious phrase which, I hope you'll remember, Shakespeare put in the mouth of an idiot. Do you read the bard much?"
Obediently he turns to filling his mouth after so much spilling. Doubtless the sisters would enjoy the reprieve from his verbosity. He has but one more thought to add.
"Say, might I get a fairy blessing from you two?"
Without further ado!
Which is why, once things settled down, she immediately went back to talking and eating. Not at the same time, mind. One after the other in a very careful and deliberate manner, as if she was showing off the fact that she could carry on that sort of thing without any effort whatsoever.
"...I've a small correction to that: I may dislike man's ways, but that doesn't imply I despise them entirely. Their ignorance in some matters is balanced by their remarkable genius in others. But, overall, to a youkai, humankind is an oddity. My particular dislike stems from persecution, after all. As you know, you've heard no end of that story from me, so I won't repeat it. Though, we do end up locked in an odd struggle because of this. Youkai prey on humans, and humans in turn prey on us in our rare moments of weakness. But humans, of course, are equally subjects to the gods, yes? And their faith carries two facets: firstly, as the belief that their gods will protect and aid them in times of strife, and secondly as that which nourishes the divine. For in my realm, gods walk among men and faith is their lifeblood. Without faith, a god has no choice but to fade or die."
Satori wouldn't dare lie about how circuitous and dismissive Ted's thoughts usually were once she'd gotten more than a bit philsophical. However, a bit more repartee wouldn't be out of the question if he was getting all too Christian on her. Despite the fact that she'd queried him on the matter plenty, before.
"As for your thoughts on those animals, I suppose I may as well contribute: We know that the eagle flies where it pleases and is free to roam, the only bird claimed to look into the heart of the sun, the "king of birds". The bird who flies to the heavens without fail. Also, as it happens, one of my more interesting pets." She snickered a little. Of course she had one, who else could have so many animals? "...The lion, always a symbol of courage. Though mine prefer to laze about rather than acting fierce. And the ox a symbol of strength, hard work and following orders..."
Satori shook her head and decided to turn his analogy on its head for a moment... "Some humans are the same: Some fly about the world as they please, believing they are kings of all they know and see, but are too high above to notice what lies below. The lions, brave and strong, often use their might to police others. And the poor oxen would be easier targets for the lions, wouldn't they? That is why, I suppose, they bow their heads to their masters so easily. But you must wonder where that leaves "man", don't you think?"
And yet, she looks him straight in the eyes - all three of them narrow down on his sister-comment once more. But she doesn't say anything, just yet.
"Consider that Saint to be an eagle, for example. She was once a great leader of men, but only used the will of the people for their own ends. And the Priestess of my tale, the lion, brave and indomitable, eager to protect her own. But that only leaves "man" to take the place of the oxen, when two great and powerful people desire their cooperation. Perhaps what I mean is that mankind should be more like mankind and think for themselves."
After so-filling his head with verbal barbs, Ted's last request caught her offguard a little. Perhaps fairies were different in Ted's world than hers. Perhaps they didn't exist at all or hid far from human sight. But nevertheless...
"...If I were a mere fairy, I'd be much less inclined to question your motives. And I am not a god, so I shall have to stretch the idea of "blessing" somewhat thin. But I suppose that even a sour blessing of mine might be enough to temper your optimism with some common sense. What sort of boon would you ask of me?"