Rêves à Deux [Closed]

by **1000 Cats** » Sat Oct 29, 2011 4:08 am

I feel a twinge of guilt, and think of calling out to her; ask her what she's going to do, but I think better of it. She might be right, or I might be right. Either way, it means it's better that I don't get involved. Not unless I have to. I could tell her again how blind she's being: that no good can come of being anywhere near that worm, that it's been more of a threat than I ever have. A rising bubble in my stomach wants to blurt out that Nˑkooäz no longer has her parents: that I am the only mother she has, and this is best, but I push it down with hateful force, disgusted with myself that I could even think that.

Kidanlera may be right. It may be possible to return her parents. It's the potential cost that bothers me. It's the fact that everything that Ksò:äỳne causes seems to only cause more problems. Even now, bringing me back to life, has only resulted in conflict. But this is so clear. Perhaps I should say it anyway, but I don't. So Instead, I suffice with, "Where are you going?" which may sound just disinterested and potentially spiteful enough. Probably not.

"I'll do that, then." Less hateful. I cough. "Make sure you kill it anyway."

by **The Tavan Race** » Sun Oct 30, 2011 10:28 pm

The prophet wakes up with his limbs immobile, tied to stakes in the ground and spread out in an X shape. He does not remember how he got here, but he does recognize the face that leers above him, playing with a silver knife.

_eku, seraniyet! unjeri os?!_ His eyes are panicked, but Seraniyet is the picture of calm, staring down without a hint of malice.

_eku, nonjet. tau hevain gleralail'no? vuleika ideu te barain, tesheika mi te vusein, u eko. meyat, gleraeri a oyo._ The red-cloaked tavan begins to pace around its bound fellow, angling its head upwards, searching the sky. _liweipikaise. siol uno, tene'hau te seva di liwesivei, u iwedaka'ha uno a vi._

I glance back over my shoulder at the hopelessly naïve cat, and ponder how it is that it can give me such advice. Maybe it doesn't understand what I'll be condemning myself to, or perhaps it doesn't realize the divinity of who I'll be bargaining with. Maybe that's for the best, since I can see that it still worries about me. “Yes, I'll kill it, and everything will be back the way it was.” For you, at least, I think.

I pick my infant up and hold it close. I start walking, in no particular direction and in no particular hurry.¹ All I want is to away from this cat, to spare it its ignorance and, therefore, its innocence.

In time I come to a fat, mostly limbless tree; its name I can't remember. It's tall enough to offer me the comfort I need to clear my head, for I will not approach the Goddess with my mind unprepared. I dig my claws into its bark, holding the demon in one arm, and climb as high as I can. The view is excellent, and I lie down on the bark to think.

Firstly, I decide, after no short time, what it is I will ask for. I know that a simple demand for the lives of Nˑkooäz's parents is a demand begging to be taken literally, and who knows what horrible thoughts the creature might plant in their heads? There must be some way to circumvent this, but after a while I come to realize that the only thing preventing Ksò:äỳne from completely ruining her life is the infant which now sleeps in my arms. So the only way to ensure that the kit's parents return as themselves is for her to tell me if they don't, so that I may make good on my original intention regarding the demon.

But what once the demon no longer needs me to care for it? I have tried to think of another option, but it seems I will have to ensure that Ksò:äỳne continues to need me alive. And the only thing she seems to value more than death and suffering is her children. The solution is obvious, and it pains me to imagine it.

But it must be done.

“I've an offer for you, plague,” I yell, knowing the invisible monster can hear me. “An offer you can't refuse.” The monster materializes, looking at me with pure hatred. But it listens, and I go on. “I've no reason to continue living, and I know your wretched spawn needs me to. No reason, except this: to atone for the deaths I've caused with you. Bring back Nˑkooäz's parents, and meddle in this world no more, and I will make it worth your while.”

She gives me a sneer and replies, And just what are you planning to do?

“You need me,” I repeat, steeling myself for my own proposal, “because you can't raise your children without getting a mortal to do it for you. I will be that mortal for as long as that white kit needs me to. Raise up an army of your filthy offspring for all I care. I'll look after them all, so long as you honor your end.” I can tell this offer entices her, and I hope desperately that I haven't missed any loophole. “And the second you knock an egg from a nest² on this world, their dying screams will reach all the way down to Hell.”

Ksò:äỳne looks at me interestedly. That is a good offer, mortal. I am impressed. I glare at her; I don't need her admiration. More importantly, it is a good enough offer for me to accept. Though it is best if you raise my children one at a time. They need affection, and though you may not care for what becomes of them, you can surely feign love for your friend's sake. When she awakes from her slumber, her living parents will greet her, and when it is time for this little one to leave your company, I shall supply you with a second.

The last words of the Goddess begin to blur, for I have noticed something behind her. It is a faded image, like a painting that has lost its color, though of what I am not certain. Its face resembles my own, vaguely, and its many arms follow the rays of the sun. For some reason, it fills me with hope, and I cannot tear my eyes from it.

The Goddess sees my gaze, follows it, and twists away just in time to avoid a slice from an ethereal saffron blade. The creature in the sky has materialized, and it looks furious.

“Brave of you to show your face, Yakshe³,” it says, voice melodic and terrifying at once. “I hope you had a good reason for it.”

I should say the same for you, Ome. The Goddess has regained her composure and shrouds herself in fire, tongues of deep red flame bursting into existence around her, then disappearing just as quickly. Her wings now seem to stretch to the sky, covering her side of the planet in darkness. So much rests on your survival, and here she throws me the briefest of glances, and so little on mine. Perhaps you'd like to turn tail now.

“Spawn of Neglect. You cannot hope to defeat me, and you can't run this time.” Ksò:äỳne notices the image spread across the sky, and I swear I see fear flicker across her face. Such strange rules these Gods obey. But I count myself lucky, for I mightn't have to debase myself from guilt after all. The green, silver-eyed being forms a second blade from the sun's light and lunges, and I watch with eyelids wide.

by **1000 Cats** » Sun Oct 30, 2011 11:40 pm

There are two figures: a raven, and dissheveled-looking being dressed all in white.

Matthew.

"Eh?"

Are things always this complicated?

"Ha! Complicated, this? This is nothin'."

Oh.

"You think you woulda kept stuff like this from happening. Put up a big ol' barrier or some crap like that."

I expect I enjoy it.

"Uh-huh, I guess. You always had a thing for, y'know, drama."

I see. But I don't do anything about it.

"Nope. You can't really be assed, I figure."

The figure in white sits silent for a moment.

I like cats, don't I?

"Probably. They sleep a lot. And you never said nothin', but, heh heh... and this is just me thinkin' here: you and Bast... Actually. You know what, I won't go there."

Cats?

"I don't like 'em. Damn noisy, and there's the whole thing where I'm a fuckin' bird, but I don't suppose that has any bearing on the situation."

It might.

"Really?"

Probably not.

Nˑkooäz.

Àrüeâˑ! she dashes over. You are here! A lot has happened.

I know what's happened, I say. I saw it all.

She stops. You saw?

Yes. I make the last couple steps to rest my chin on her head. Why did you run, little queen?

I feel her breath catch, but she recovers quickly. Because every time I get involved in something it ends up killing someone.

No, Nˑkooäz-

Like you. Like my parents.

That wasn't-

So it's best to stay out of it! she yowls. It's time I learned how to run anyway. I'm on my own now.

No, you're not.

What?

Kidanlera's trying to bring your parents back.

Who?! she backs off, staring at me with pure incredulity. My parents!

Kidanlera's the sùcschŷx. She's actually a friend of mine. Kind of.

Of yours! It - she - killed them!

She didn't mean to.

How do you know that? She tried to kill me!

She's confused. She's not supposed to be here.

She should just go back to her own world.

Nˑkooäz, I say gently. She wants to bring back your parents.

No!

I furrow my brow, watching her expression turn from surprise and confusion to defiance. Didn't you hear me? she says. I'm staying out of it. I ran for a reason, Ùoöhŷx:x. I flinch. More than the abrupt change in her mood, there's something that deeply disturbs me about my name being spoken by this little white cat. And if this creature, Kidanlera or whatever, wants to make things better, then she should just run too. Let them die. Let everyone die.

I approach her gingerly and move to wash her ear, but she jumps back. And so should you. Just let me die.

Despite everything, I feel like nothing else right now more than a mother: the epitome of patience; and even though I myself said just the same thing to Kidanlera only minutes before, for whatever reason I need to convince this little one otherwise. In a facade, I get up, and move to walk away. If that's how you feel, then why are you here?

I want to be free.

I flinch again, but I hold together.

I'll leave you to it, then.

And I start to walk away. I don't feel my pawsteps as I go. I only feel myself moving slowly, further and further from her. The tension. Zeˑ seˑ reˑ keˑ...¹

Wait. It breaks. I'm sorry. I stop, keeping every sigh of relief to myself. Don't go. she whimpers. You're the only one I have left.

You want freedom?

I can hear her shuffling her paws. I actually came here to talk to you. I don't actually want to die.

I'm glad.

But I'm still afraid.

Of Kidanlera?

I take her silence as the affirmative I never needed in the first place. We'll see what we can do. Wake up.

What?

I finally turn around; just a glance over my shoulder, but it's enough. I can see the puzzlement on her face. I told you, I say. You're not alone.

Her eyes grow just a little wider. Intelligence, as always, burns in them like lightning. I can't help but purr.

Xî:âˑ, you didn't have to come here to see me.

I make sure I open my eyes first, there in the abandoned óce field, to watch the young cat as she comes back into the world. I'm so close to her that I can feel the heat off her body. She blinks blearily at me; already sporting a look of gleeful comprehension.

¹ "One, two, three, four..."

by **The Tavan Race** » Tue Nov 01, 2011 10:40 pm

Topisei hokaikaida sha Ome streitene di Ekusivei a'hafele tau ta'hein, u streitene di Siyowarin a'hafele ta'wesein.
--Te Nleva Hesi Ki

As the smaller Deity (Hý:äỳne, I will call it) leaps at Ksò:äỳne, its form gleaming with the light from its swords, its target merely purrs and sidesteps, knocking it from the air with one hand. The shadowy creature quickly begins enveloping the fallen one in darkness, causing it to writhe and scream with an ungodly terror. You like that, Ome? Ksò:äỳne taunts, before Hý:äỳne slices the cocoon in two and throws it to the wind. The demon stabs at it with tendrils of smoke, each one severed by a slice from the angel's blade. Its gray eyes shine with fury.

Behind you, the demon says offhandedly, and a pair of tendrils smash into the angel, holding it face down to the earth. Again they spread over the small one's form, and again it fights its way out, slashing madly at the ever-growing darkness around it. For a brief moment, those shadows' source is forgotten, and while Hý:äỳne is busied with them, Ksò:äỳne slips away, surprisingly quiet for a devil of her size. She lands gingerly on the tree I cling to, and though I fling myself off in a desperate attempt to flee, her armored claws close around me, and she holds my trembling form against her chest.

Ome. You risk your life for nothing. I'm not here to harm your child. I wonder what the demon is getting at. It doesn't look as if the angel is much of a match for her, yet she still wants it to leave her alone. It's as if she's trying to prove herself....

My thoughts are cut off by a sharp hiss and a screech of pain from Ksò:äỳne. One of the blades of light has pierced her eye, and she falls to one knee in pain. Fully expecting to be crushed in the creature's hand, I am surprised when she forces it open, and I jump out with an odd sense of gratitude. “Th-thank you,” I mumble, leaping back to avoid the rest of her body as she falls.

Hý:äỳne advances quickly, plunging its second weapon through the beast's second eye. Cleanly, efficiently, it pulls a third weapon from the sky, then a fourth. The hissing repeats itself over and over as the gleaming swords are forced through Ksò:äỳne's armor, pinning her to the ground.

“Liar!” the angel hisses, severing one of the creature's wings. “Your kind cause nothing but harm, and I plan to put a stop to it!” The angel cuts the second wing off as well, holding its last remaining weapon above the demon's face. But it hesitates. Though the shivering monster is blind and immobile, the angel doesn't kill it. Instead, it turns to me.

“Gifted one. You don't remember me, but I am your Deity, Omenuetilin. This creature has brought you nothing but pain since you've met it. It has caused me nothing but grief. Now we've a chance to wreak our vengeance, but neither of us can do it alone. I need your help to kill it for good. I need you to die for me.”

I look at Ksò:äỳne. She looks so small without her usual shroud of darkness. I look back to Hý:äỳne, face calm as it asks me to kill myself.

“I will. I'll do it, die so that she may too, but you have to promise me something.” I swallow. “Let the white kit's parents come back.”

The Deity pauses, and the world is completely silent. “My child, I cannot. Their souls are out of my domain.” And now the world is a bit less silent, for the wounded Goddess is laughing. Quietly, weakly, but with great pleasure: the sound of a Deity who has realized she has the upper hand. As helpless as she is, eyes and wings lost to the battle she was doomed to lose, she knows she has won.

Seraniyet flicks his tail, having found what he was looking for. A meteor, though small, races across the thin sky, trailing fire and, more importantly, light. He holds the knife up so that it may catch a bit of this light, and it does, gleaming brighter for a moment. _nelaka'ha uno, nonjet,_ he says, not meaning a word of it. Crouching down, he drives the knife into the prophet's chest, savoring the fear and betrayal in his eyes.

One by one, the tavan's organs are removed from his body, placed in a radial pattern around his chest, then buried, still connected to the torso by threads of flesh. It is not long before the prophet is dead, but Seraniyet continues, until each organ has its place out of the body and in the soil.

This done, he begins to walk. The prophet's death would give him power, but it couldn't be used here. The world must know of it, and for that to happen, the allin must know of it.

He can already feel his shackled God near. He will rule the world.

“Then this creature's life is out of your domain, too!” I yell, now angry that this being would interfere. I am not going to be ordered around by Gods anymore, especially not one so weak that it needs my life to take another. “We've got a deal to consummate. Begone.”

And though the Deity's face is unwilling, its body obeys my command, fading with the image in the sky. In the last moments that I can see it, its expression is dead, the anger at my insolence gone completely. I wonder if I have done something awful. But nothing awful occurs, so I put it out of my mind, instead running up to the injured Goddess.

“You're awful!” I scream, as she tries in vain to stand. “When my subconscious spoke to me, telling me to prove myself: that was you!” I seethe inwardly, the suspicions I once had confirmed by the Goddess' actions. She did the same thing with me that I did with Nˑkooäz.

Keh. The Goddess coughs blood when she talks, and her whitening eyes stare blankly at the falling sun. How I wish. Her words surprise me, but they don't convince me. “Of course it was! You just did the exact same thing not a minute ago! You--”

Yes, little one, I did. I am annoyed by the interruption, but I keep silent. You and I aren't so different, are we? We think in the same ways, and hurt the same kinds of people. Innocent victims.

“You bitch! I'm nothing like you!”

Ah, how mortals delude themselves. You think me such a monster. But I do what I do to survive. The only difference between you and me is that you survive by causing death when it is undeserved. I survive by giving life when it is undeserved. And like you, I wish I don't have to. But I do.

Let me tell you a story, the Goddess croons, and I sit down to listen. She tells me of the faraway world where she was born, and of the creature that left her to die. She tells me of her desire for vengeance, and how she was laughed at for her attempt. And she tells me of the reason why she needs suffering to live, and why her infants crave neglect to thrive.

When she falls silent, the sun is fled, and the world around me is dark. I have nothing to say, and I think she senses it.

It is true that I wanted you to kill. But I didn't need to tell you; you did it yourself. Have you ever wondered why I always appear to you in this form? Why, even in my business of manipulation and trickery, I have never once taken the form of your friend? It is because I cannot. What you see in your head is entirely your own. It is, she coughs, out of my domain.

I would have loved to force your hand with the face of another, or yourself. But it turns out I didn't need to. I brought you back from the dead, but after that, it was all you, darling.

With that, the Goddess returns to her realm, leaving only a sleeping baby and a lonely sùcschŷx. “Liar,” she whispers, but she's no longer sure of that.

by **1000 Cats** » Wed Nov 02, 2011 1:22 am

"So you did come back."

I assent. We're both lying as we were as we slept, quite motionless. Nˑkooäz is staring at me.

"From the dead?"

"Pretty much."

She doesn't move. She's just watching me, as though I might vanish if she blinks. "What was it like?"

"Coming back?"

"No. Being dead."

I suck on my lip. I know that instant that she isn't actually thinking about me. But she is thinking.

"They might come back. Kiˑanyera is trying to bring them back. I know you want them back." She doesn't say anything. "I would."

She blinks and looks away, for just a moment, before fixing her gaze squarely at my chest.

"I'm going to see her," I say. "See what she's doing. You can stay here if you want. You should be safe."

"No."

"Nˑkooäz, I know she's done horrible things, but I have to-"

"That's not what I meant," she says, and she stands up. "I'm coming with you."

I grimace. "You said you didn't want to have anything to do with it."

"I know. And I won't. I just want to see what happens. Àrüeâˑ, they're my sire and my dam."

I look her over. She's still so tiny, but she seems as though she's grown a little. Maybe she's lost some of that naïvety. Maybe she's actually just gained some. I sigh. "Alright. But stay behind me."

She snorts. "Do you want me to keep a hold of your tail, too?"

"Actually, yes. That's a good idea. Do that."

She gives a little growl as I get up, but a sharp pain in my tail - more painful than it probably has need to be - tells me that she's complied.

By the time we reach the grassy area at which the unearthly Ksò:äỳne had made her appearance, I've wrenched my tail out of Nˑkooäz's spiteful jaws. I sniff the air around, and chew on a few blades of grass. The little queen just watches, which makes me realize that despite her confidence at times, she really is quite helpless. At last I am certain of the precise direction Kidanlera and her adoptive Ŷnksò:äỳne had gone, and wave with my poor tail for my own adoptive daughter to follow. It isn't long before we come to the current scene.

There sits Kidanlera in clear despair, with her charge sleeping alongside her. I lower my tail, commanding Nˑkooäz to stay where she is, and approach.

"Kiˑanyera," I mutter. All my anger with her has dissipated, seeing her like this. It surely means that my last words to her turned out to be true; but as much as in the past I've enjoyed making others out to be fools, I feel only empathy right now. That has to mean something.

So I don't comment on the continued existence of the worm. I don't ask her what happened with its mother. Without a hint of arrogance or emotion, I sidle up next to her, and sit.

by **The Tavan Race** » Thu Nov 03, 2011 12:17 am

Yakshemelaya crouches before a fire, a small, sickly fire that must be tended constantly to keep it alive. From this fire, a thin plume of smoke arises, and the Goddess leans over it as if it were her offspring. Slowly, painfully, the smoke hits her face and congeals, forming black lumps of armor where her working eyes once were. After a time, these masses have filled with liquid, and a long time after that, the Goddess stands, the dark orbs functional enough for her to begin her next task.

She begins to snap branches off a nearby tree, using a smoldering log from the fire to mold them to her back. The searing pain reminds her never to get into a fight with a God again. It is a wonder she survived, all things considered, because she and Ome both knew she was doomed to lose from the start. No agent of Chaos may triumph when Order is near.

Not in a fair fight, anyways. And she counts herself lucky that it was not a fair fight, though between the two sides it rarely is.

The Goddess returns to her work, the branches having took to her body nicely. All that are left are the shadows, and there is no shortage here.

I had hoped that Ùoöhŷx:x would take the hint and leave me alone. It seems I have once more underestimated her concern for me. I turn to glare at her, but it doesn't feel very scathing. More like I'm confused, and I am. Why does this cat care so much about me, after everything that's happened? If I were her, I would have shrugged and let myself walk away.

“Eh,” I whisper, my voice caught in my throat, but as the silence drags on I begin to feel guilty. She deserves more than that. Even if I didn't ask her to be with me, she still is, and forgoing the little one for it at that. Still, a halfhearted “What is it, Ùoöhŷx:x?” is all I can muster.

Having healed herself in the roundabout manner in which she must, Yakshemelaya appears once more in an open field, obscuring her presence against any who might happen by. She finds the bodies of the two cats Kidanlera has killed with little trouble.

Gathering roots, soil, and sinewy blades of grass, the Goddess begins a crude ritual not unlike that which she just performed on herself. She carefully removes the ruined flesh from the creature's necks, realigning bones and replacing the missing parts with materials on hand. Upon contact with the bodies, each forms the part it is intended to: tendon, muscle, and artery.

Surveying her handiwork, the Goddess is pleased. The last thing she does is to reunite the bodies with their lost souls, restoring the connection that makes them alive to begin with, before fading, once more, to the Underworld.

by **1000 Cats** » Thu Nov 03, 2011 12:41 am

"Eh," I grunt. "Just seeing how you're doing."

I shuffle around a bit. "You have done some good things, you know. I mean, I'm alive. Again, I mean. I don't really deserve it. It was a fair fight in... well, you remember it yourself, I guess.

"I bet your death wasn't all that different, to be honest. Maybe it was stupid, but it was probably a good thing to do anyway. Maybe you were protecting someone who was close to you. Maybe they're off living it up on that other world thanks to you."

"You- You tried, too," says the little voice from behind me, much closer than where I recall leaving it. "That matters. Doesn't it?" I can tell she's not herself convinced and is just trying to emulate me; but only because I've gotten to know her surprisingly well over these last three days.

"You should stop trying to die," I press on, with much more conviction. "I don't care what Ksò:äỳne said to you; I know it can't have been good, and you shouldn't listen to a word it says.

"Can't you say something?"

by **The Tavan Race** » Fri Nov 04, 2011 1:30 am

Of course I can speak, but I don't say a word. Instead, I get up and put the sleeping infant behind my frill, as I did when I first met it. Then, I walk past the cat and towards the kitten, my eyes meeting neither of theirs, and stop a few meters in front of her.

“Take care of Ùoöhŷx:x,” I say, glancing at the kit's face to affirm that I'm talking to her. “I mean, you did the right thing back there, running from me. If this àrüe gets herself into any more fights, you need to tell her: 'Run, Ùoöhŷx:x, and don't look back!'.” I pause, averting my gaze once more. “That's what she should've done. That's what I should've done. It will save you both a great deal of pain in the future, I am sure of it.”

With that, I keep walking, past the kitten and away from the staring eyes of my friend. I feel nothing as I do so, but my mind is not empty. I am picking apart the kit's timid statement, no doubt intended to cheer me up, which has instead caused me to wonder just how fucked up this world is. You tried. Does that mean I've failed? Has Ksò:äỳne decided that the life of her infant isn't worth the lives of two mortals? It seems ridiculous. She has every reason to honor our arrangement, the most important one lying on my head right now.

There's only one way to know for sure. When I was reborn, the Goddess used the remains of one body to make another. I remember Ùoöhŷx:x's corpse vividly. Thus, I will go to the place where I killed the two, and if their bodies are still there, scarred and dyed yellow, I will know I have been betrayed once more.

I motion with my tail that the two living cats may follow, though I care little whether they actually do.

As I walk, a horrible thought occurs to me. If I was reborn from the dead body of Ùoöhŷx:x, then where did her new body come from? What form has she been given, if flesh need be present for rebirth? I shudder, thinking of the unlucky cat who had to die for this purpose, and my disgust for the Goddess grows deeper.

by **1000 Cats** » Sat Nov 05, 2011 12:21 am

I grimace at Kidanlera's words. That's not what she would have said the first time she was alive. Fraternity, she had said. Union and fraternity are not useless. That was only a short time before I found his little white cat hovering over me so far from her family, and only a little while longer before I died for that same cat. Perhaps I wouldn't have if I hadn't, on some level, been thinking about what the sùcschŷx had said to me; and here she is now, saying precisely the opposite.

I look at Nˑkooäz out of the corner of my eye and see that she, too, is wearing an expression of disdain. Perhaps she has come to a similar conclusion that I had: that what Kidanlera is saying is that she, Nˑkooäz, should be dead. But there seems to be an apprehension, there, too; something much more basic. I mentally claw my own ears once I realize why. It's obvious.

It's also obvious where Kidanlera is going, and I wonder if I shouldn't command Nˑkooäz to stay behind. I know I wouldn't want to see the corpses of my parents. But there doesn't seem to be anywhere for such a young cat to hide; the only place would be the abandoned óce field we'd just departed, and I don't expect Kidanlera to wait. Nor do I plan on letting her go alone; after a lifetime of living nonchalantly and caring nothing about anyone else, I suddenly feel inextricably tied to both of these lost creatures, and responsible for each of them. If it weren't for them, I would have jumped right back into the void the instant Ksò:äỳne had spat me out of it. I would have happily lay and slept until I'd forgotten I'd ever existed. I can't leave either of them.

"Nˑkooäz?"

She walks up to me. That resentment still hovers over her like a storm cloud. She whispers, "She's going back to the range."

"I know. I'm going to go with her."

"No. Please, don't-"

"And you have to come. I'm not leaving you behind. The sun's going down."

She snarls under her breath, "I'm certainly not going! I can take care of myself!"

"No," I say patiently, "you can't."

"You did." I glare at her. "I've heard the stories of Ùoöhŷx:x. I know why you-"

"Shut up," I hiss, though without any real conviction. "I'm going with the murderous scaly monkey, and you're not leaving earshot. Do you know why?"

"You're not my mother."

I sneak a glance behind me. Kidanlera has almost disappeared, though her smell lingers. I turn back to the glaring kit. "Answer my question."

She growls, "I don't know."

"It's because you know all about my life," I say, "and you think that is how a cat takes care of herself. Let's go."

It's not long before we've caught up with our depressive target. The sun's setting by the time we pass the scent markings placed by Nˑkooäz's parents. "Stay here," I tell her once we're well within the border. She does, without a word. I swallow hard as I follow Kidanlera the rest of the way in. I wonder if she at least had the decency to hide the bodies, but I suppose that doesn't matter. I've never seen a corpse before. Not a cat corpse. There are enough superstitions surrounding them that the only time one would is if they'd killed it in the first place. My nervousness, I like to think, is well-warranted.

As we continue, just the sùcschŷx and I, in my anxiety I pick up movement ahead. The same smell, but stronger; I realize with far more than relief: it's not the smell of something dead. But the elation I feel is swiftly put down by sharp terror as I remember my companion. I turn to her, thinking quickly. We shouldn't be here. Not now that the situation's changed. "We should go back," I say.

by **The Tavan Race** » Sat Nov 05, 2011 3:05 am

Go back? But I need to know.

I see the look in Ùoöhŷx:x's eyes, and I realize that she already knows herself. Maybe her ears have picked up movement. Maybe her nose has picked up a scent. Whatever it is, it's something I can't detect. But of course, if there is anything alive in this place, I can detect it in my own way. I close my eyes and open what I'm pretty sure are eyes, but different. The grass no longer obstructs my view, and I see that Ùoöhŷx:x is right. What were once lifeless corpses are awake and moving.

I breathe in deeply, ecstatic that my work has been undone. Though I may have to watch over the revolting creature on my skull for as long as I live, I can do so knowing that it will be for a purpose. In one fell swoop, I have a reason to live again.

A few moments later, the other meaning of this revelation hits me. I killed these two, and since they have no idea that I'm the one who brought them back, they won't like seeing me on their range again. Letting them do so would be laughably stupid, so I'll heed my friend's advice and leave them be. No point getting into a second fight, for they would suffer no matter who won.

“Yeah,” I whisper, “we should,” and I turn to run. Staring at the ground two meters in front of me, I sprint with a renewed vigor, for I have done what I must to redeem myself. Nˑkooäz will have her parents back, and maybe then she won't think of me as such a monster.

I am already picturing the look on her face when I tell her.

by **1000 Cats** » Sun Nov 06, 2011 12:08 am

I watch Kidanlera run off, but don't immediately follow. There's something that she's forgotten, but I recall all too well every time I speak with her. Ksò:äỳne is not known for its benevolence. Who knows what state the two reborn cats might be in?

So I keep walking towards the movement I'd sensed earlier until I can see the two. They don't immediately notice me, which itself is worrisome, but they look just like they did when I met them here before, to tell a story and take their meat. I chirp, and they each look over with some surprise. They look weary.

"I'm sorry for encroaching. Do you remember who I am?" I ask.

They only stare at me for a moment, almost as though they're looking right through me. I know who I must remind them of, just as she does to me. Finally, the queen speaks: "Yes. The àrüe."

I purr, "Yes. I came to tell you your kit is safe. She's waiting on the edge of the territory. I'll go get her."

"Thank you." Anytime else, I know they would have themselves bolted westwards, but they seemed a little worse for wear. Apart from a general tiredness and disorientation, though, it didn't seem they had any memory loss, or some other illness inflicted by their aptly-named reincarnator. Perhaps, Nˑkooäz might be able to lead a normal life. My spirit light, I run off to follow Kidanlera.

Nˑkooäz is resigned. She cares about her parents very much, but right now there are too many emotions running about her brain, like tiny frightened humans, for her to feel any one of them. She's devastated by the deaths of her sire and dam. She's furious with the one who killed them. She comforted it, certainly, but only for the sake of Ùoöhŷx:x, for whom she feels nothing but admiration. She would emulate her, become her if she could, and with pain she finds that she has never felt this way for her own dam. And she's confused. Over the course of one day, she's been attacked, reduced to being a lone cat, spoken to her heroine in a dream, woken to discover that the dead can come back to life, spoken kind words to her parents' killers, and was now waiting on the edge of what's technically her land while the sùcschŷx and the àrüe explore it for her. She can't go anywhere, because anywhere else that's not here can only give way to some new trauma.

The fur on her back raises as she sees the monster darting towards her through the grass, but then she notices Ùoöhŷx:x's shape a little behind, not noticeably injured, or hurried. Steeling herself, she waits until Kidanlera reaches her. Other than to make adamant eye contact, she makes no acknowledgment of the fact that, for the moment, she's alone with the sùcschŷx.

by **The Tavan Race** » Mon Nov 07, 2011 1:30 am

I get to the white kit, panting slightly. My head still lolls a bit, presumably because this body is designed to look down on things rather than up at them, and it is for this reason that I am still happy when I reach her. I look up by way of standing up, and that happiness dissipates like a flock of birds. God, the eyes. Somehow they contain exactly as much anger as they would if I hadn't just adopted hell's most vile resident for her good. I wonder briefly why I bothered. She told me earlier that trying counted for something, but I can see she didn't mean a word of it. I suppose she was mocking me.

I've about had it with her refusal to see any sort of good in me. It's all I can do not to kill the damn worm right now. But I remind myself that she's only a child, and like all children, she's not well-equipped to see the complexities of any situation. Perhaps it's not her fault she's mad at me. I take a moment to reflect on the situation, to guess whether, someday in the future, she might see the lengths I've gone to in order to correct my lapse in judgment.

That is, if it was really my lapse at all. There is still a chance that the worm's mother is merely a very convincing trickster, and had thought of this moment even when appearing to me. Would I not be more likely to believe her deception if it were the only one of its kind? In addition to that, why would my subconscious take the face of a white cat when, in my dreams, I stayed in this form?

My thoughts are interrupted by a sudden, oddly familiar crack, though as soon as it fades, it fades from mind. I realize that I couldn't see for a moment, but now that my vision is returned me, it is scarred in a worse way than mere absence. The little one's face has grown older, wiser, and it gives me a look I try not to trust.

“I know what you're going through. This kit doesn't understand that you did what you did to help her. You're the one who's been doing everything right, and she's not even a bit grateful,” it mirrors my thoughts. “Why do you keep subjecting yourself to torment for its good?”

I barely notice that the new face has slipped into the neuter form. I myself have never seen the kit as much more than an it. A frustrating it.

Because I'm better than it. I know my mistakes and atone for them.

“But you have done your part. Why hinder yourself further, if it shows no gratitude?” The cat begins to lick itself, talking intermittently and without a trace of doubt. “Don't you just want to live? This world isn’t so bad, you know. And you know what else? You're a queen here. Nothing can challenge you on even ground. There is,” the cat glances at me with eyes that gleam with wisdom, “nothing stopping you from carving our your own territory, or wandering in peace as the àrüe do.”

“Nothing, that is, but the thing on your head. And that brings me to my idea.” I don't remember it mentioning any idea, but what it says makes more sense than my own thoughts, so I listen raptly. “Give it to the ingrate.”

Of course.

There is no snap or shadow to herald the sense-speaker's disappearance.

I stare for a moment at Nˑkooäz, then remove the worm from its resting place and stare for a moment at it.

“Here,” I hiss, and place it once more at her feet. “I brought back your parents. Take care of this thing if you want to keep them.” My breath quickens, though the kit has said nothing. “I'm through with you both,” and I walk past her. If next I see the parasite in hell, it will be too soon. If next I am judged in heaven....

I quicken my pace.

by **1000 Cats** » Mon Nov 07, 2011 2:28 am

My eyes widen in confusion at the scene that had just played out in front of me. I couldn't hear anything that was said, though I know Kidanlera had said something. But there was little Nˑkooäz with the squealing worm writhing at her feet, and Kidanlera racing off into what's left of the sunset. The kit seems frozen in place; I put on a burst of speed to get to her.

She's just staring at Ŷnksò:äỳne, not even blinking. She gives no sign of recognition of my arrival. I murmur her name, but I find my own eyes drawn to the grub.

"She said my parents are alive."

I look up, shocked for a moment, then remembered why I had come down here in the first place. "Yes, they are," I reply. It's not nearly as jubilant as I'd imagined.

"The sùcschŷx keeps giving me this thing. She said they'll die again if I don't take care of it." The complete absence of any sort of feeling in her voice hurts more than tears. It's so flat she's almost impossible to understand.

"Go and see them," I tell her.

"I can't. I can't bring it with me. They won't understand."

"Leave it. I'll deal with it."

She doesn't even argue; she just walks into her home, back where I came from, towards her parents. She's lost somewhere, not unlike them. For the first time, I can't look at her and say that I know where she is; that I can sympathize with her. She's just experienced something I never have. When something terrible happens, and one acts on it, we call that justice. But what if that something terrible now didn't happen; if it was erased or undone? What is a cat, especially such a young cat, supposed to think then? I can only watch her go; not sure, for the moment, how she'll be.

I'm lost too. I don't know what I'm to do with this wretched thing, defiling the grass with its unnatural presence. However little I respect gods, I know them to keep their promises, if not when it comes to life, then at least when it comes to death. I don't know the extent of Ksò:äỳne's powers, but if she can be so foul and yet bring the dead back to life, I have no doubt that she can just as easily do the reverse. It doesn't seem, for the moment, I have any choice. I groan and am momentarily glad that I have an empty stomach.

"Alright, you overgrown maggot. We've got to go somewhere, and you're going to crawl up on my back, because I sure as the sun am not putting any part of you in my mouth. I know you've got claws; you're going to keep them to yourself. I know you're a deceitful little wretch, and if you try anything I will pop off your limbs until you can't anymore. Do we understand each other? We're going to have a nap."

I lie down to allow the monstrosity to undulate its way onto my back, biting down on what might be my own esophagus.

No words are exchanged when Nˑkooäz at last reunites with her sire and dam. They touch noses, rub against each other, but no sound punctuates the strangely melancholy moment apart from the shuffling of grass underfoot and in the wind. For once, Nˑkooäz doesn't think. She doesn't wonder about what's led up to this point. She doesn't dwell on the past or attempt to predict the future. She doesn't imagine what she might do in the coming hours, or days, or months. She's a passive recipient of the present, and for that fleeting instant it's as though her parents were never gone. And she's happy.

by **The Tavan Race** » Tue Nov 08, 2011 9:37 pm

The wormy creature awakens, takes one look at Ùoöhŷx:x, and begins crying, a horrible, completely unsympathetic moaning that can be felt in the stomach as much as in the ears. It is thankfully not loud, for the creature senses that this creature hasn't the patience, but it is unpleasant all the same. And it certainly doesn't move to climb on board, but rather shrinks back, covering itself with wings that have not yet been cleaned.

Some distance behind me, I hear a sound that stops me in my tracks: the soft moan of something in pain. It is both chilling and somehow, endearing. It reminds me of death, and of what comes from death. It is like a coo that veils a threat.

I stop running against my own best interest and look back, seeing my friend and my orphan eying each other. It seems the little one has shunted her duty, that or Ùoöhŷx:x volunteered. Something about this strikes me as unfair. Why should she be the one to deal with the ridiculous creature when I'm not willing to? But I can't protest. Neither cat seems to want to listen to me, and if the kit convinced someone else to do something for her, good for her. My tail makes a neat loop, as the idea comes to me that perhaps the devil deserves some credit as well.

_feleipikada,_ I whisper, then pandiculate, for it has been a long time since I've slept. I am oddly pleased that this body does the exact same thing I used to do when tired. It makes it a little more my own.

Nevertheless, open fields are unacceptable when it comes to sleeping, and the urge to find a high place almost overpowers my urge to simply lie down, predators be damned. So I keep walking, angling my direction towards the large, fat tree I found earlier. I consider it my own now, though I'm unsure who's territory it's actually in, and it is a fair bit taller than all the others around it, so it offers a good view.

Not, of course, that I'll be needing it. But it's a nice place to wake up, I imagine.

Recalcitrant and bitter, the worm stares at the cat with a look that suggests a grudging fear more than a pure one. Actually, a bit of anger might be seen in its eyes, and it uncoils a bit to hiss something. Though its mandibles are innocent to the art of articulation, they are unneeded, and a word can be distinctly made out in the sibilant cry:

Kiˑaŋyeya!

by **1000 Cats** » Tue Nov 08, 2011 10:00 pm

I glare over at the screeching thing. I'm not losing my patience. I lost my patience a long time ago, and I couldn't care less if the thing had started a whole yarn on dreaming and the nature of existence, let alone bother with being surprised that it can utter a single badly-formed word. "Kiˑänyàrâˑ left you. She doesn't like you anymore, understand? In fact, I don't like you either. No one likes you. Do you know why? It's because you're a bilious little liar and you have no legs. Now get up, or I'll find the nearest hyena pack and see how well they can take care of you!"

I groan, and force myself to speak more calmly. "We're going to see your mother. That's what we're going to do. And she's going to take you back. My daughter's gone back to her real parents. It's about time Kiˑänyàrâˑ's did too. Come on."

by **The Tavan Race** » Tue Nov 08, 2011 11:35 pm

Ŷnksò:äỳne merely stares, its body undulating slightly even in stillness, eyes betraying an equivalent reluctance to touch the cat. It realizes that it is intended to ride on Ùoöhŷx:x's back, but it maintains the hope that it won't have to. Perhaps, it thinks, this animal is simply stupid, and doesn't understand its own disgusting nature. It will have to stoop for a moment down to its level of communication if it wants to remain pure.

E kkˑcaa ac? it attempts, hoping the cat gets the drift.

by **1000 Cats** » Tue Nov 08, 2011 11:57 pm

I squint at the wretch. It takes me a moment to figure out what it's said, and I screw up my face to enunciate the fact that I believe wholeheartedly that it's an idiot regardless of its slim linguistic ability. "She's gone, obviously," I tell it. "Left you here in the grass under the authority of the kitten whose parents you had her kill. That's right, I know about that." I glare, looking for any sign of emotion, or elation, in those blank black orbs. "So you should think yourself very lucky that I came in her stead and also that I haven't the stomach to eat you. Now.

Get. On."

by **The Tavan Race** » Thu Nov 10, 2011 10:22 pm

With more than a little reluctance, the demon slithers onto Ùoöhŷx:x's fur, trying not to touch it too much. Its claws cannot be felt as it grasps the cat's fur, for it holds them gingerly out of the way, and its wings and tail do their part to grip on as well. The majority of its body, however, is suspended a centimeter above any part of the cat, and she can tell the demon is strained to realize this goal.

It gives a tiny squeal to indicate its readiness, shifting itself in discomfort.

I look up, but this time, I don't see Light. All I see is Void. But my tail beats regardless, gyrating like a flagellum, pushing me inexorably up. My head breaks, but no water slicks off my scales. I am swimming in mud: black, choking mud, and I wipe my eyes frantically. My vision is blurred and gets no better, for my hands are just as filthy as my eyes. I swerve my head, trying to spot something cleaner than myself, but all is this way.

A dark shape, and a voice. Kidanlera. I asked you to care for my child. Though I cannot see much, I know who's talking. I look at what I think is her head, but only glare. I don't care about the child anymore, because I know her mother can't hurt me. I don't care about anyone anymore.

Yeah? So do something about it. I bare my teeth and hiss, but it doesn't seem to have much effect. She's not angry.

I have a present for you, Kidanlera. For breaking your word, I am going to give you something. In spite of my previous words, I gulp. Somehow that seems much worse than just killing me, or taking the kit's parents back. The Goddess' tone is genuinely kindhearted, which worries me for some reason. You're worried. Don't be. I am serious, for you have done something I didn't know could be done. You have taught a Goddess a lesson, for which I thank you. What is she talking about?

What do you mean? And why is it so wet in here? She ignores both my questions. Instead, the surroundings change, and water begins to pour from the sky. The ground is a mess of wet leaves, and the Goddess' fur is slick and drippy. Though the rain slides off my scales, it stays in my eyes. I have no idea where we are, and yet somehow, I know it as if I were born here. It is a fine gift.

I look over at the Goddess, who is staring at me with what I think might be compassion. It's so strange, to see it in her eyes, that I don't quite believe it, and try to imagine her as her usual callous self. I'm getting sick of this life, she tells me, out of nowhere. I didn't think a Goddess could feel that way, but it's harder to think that she's lying. Her eyes are so truthful. My child spoke for the first time. It's no good, and she clicks, but it means something. To me. As a mother.

All the others, they weren't like it. Just drones, who did what I said. They couldn't defeat a spawn of Order if it were bound and unconscious in front of them. But this one spoke. It is the most disconcerting thing in the world, to hear her talk like this. I'm still crying, or I think I am, but not for the same reason. I think you did that. All the others, they weren't like you. Just slaves, who did what I said. Cowards. They always thought they had so much to lose. I think she's talking about the other fosters, those who made their own deals with the Devil. They must have been a lot smarter than me, because they asked for things they cared about. How stupid my request must seem to her, a being with no sense of nobility. Heh. I might be better than Nˑkooäz, but who's happier?

I'm sure I'll die for this, because it's not in my nature. But I've got a replacement now, and this is something I've always wanted to do. Her face is still calm and maternal. She must have thought about this for a long time.

Wha-- I swallow. What's that?

Do you know why your God chose you? She keeps changing subjects, but I'm not annoyed. The rain keeps falling, and neither of us move, or speak. A few moments later: It's because you've got ambition. You can conquer worlds, and you wanted to. But you're a drelli, too. Nobody would miss you. The perfect seed, but not on your own. Someone had to come with you. A little crack in my head, and I know what she's talking about. I promised something, about unity and fraternity. But it seems now that those things were wasted.

Ironically, you never did get your day in the firelight. Your fraternity got in the way. But that's my present, Dustwalker. Fraternity. And Firelight.

The Goddess fades quietly, leaving me alone in the rain. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do, but I know what I want to do.

I set off through the slippery tree limbs, calling, _hokakalai?_.

by **1000 Cats** » Thu Nov 10, 2011 11:35 pm

I shiver with disgust but pull myself together and make further into Nˑkooäz's territory. There would be an óce patch somewhere in it; that much is certain, and something tells me none of its owners will be using it anytime soon. Besides, it's not like I'm unused to finding it. As miserable as my common name is, it's not inaccurate.

A few days ago I wouldn't have cared - maybe I would have even been proud - that I could find the drug so quickly from such a distance. But however common it is, there's no respect for a cat that's dependent on it. There's no respect for a squatter, and it's only lately that I've realized why. Nevertheless, I only have to bear this slimy burden for a very short time before I unceremoniously shake it off like a clump of dried mud.

I turn to glare at it, "We're going to sleep here. We, as in you and I. I know you've been napping since you tried to get Nˑkooäz killed, but regardless, you're going to stay right where you are and pretend to be dead. Otherwise you just might be. Are we clear?"

I don't wait for its undoubtedly garbled answer before toppling over sideways and, as I've always done before, passing out in someone else's bed.

X h:ò:cë ócenhù:öì X sàòˑcckxkë zˑccksònhù:öì X zùâë xînhù:öì X crz:òë ihunhù:öì X nˑy Oˑ nˑzn: X ecxˑh:ò:c
Òce grows in the earth. Flies grow in a corpse. Kits grow in their mothers. Minds grow in dream. It is not good or bad. It is only how the world is.

-Unnamed àrüe

I open my eyes to nothing whatsoever: just darkness, and a general sense of filth. Ksò:äỳne? I'm probably in the right place, but if I must search for it, I will. If I take too long, and by the time I've awakened the worm and I have been discovered, it can only be worse for it. I've got your maggot, you overgrown fly. Let's talk.

by **The Tavan Race** » Sat Nov 12, 2011 8:17 pm

As I run, I feel weightless, as if the trees and the earth are trying to push me away rather than hold me down. I am able to overcome this feeling, but it's very strange to have to hold myself down, and I don't focus much on my surroundings. Sometimes, the going'll get easier, and I can raise my head to look around. Whenever I do I see that the world has gotten less and less distinct, with only vague impressions of trees about and a feeling of panic replacing the concrete rain of earlier. I am no longer calling with words, or they are indistinct, for I can no longer understand myself.

After a time, I come to a ridge, or maybe a mountain range. The structure is of an indistinct size, and I climb to the top with ease. Looking down, I can see a complex of buildings surrounded by a chain-link fence, the ground having changed to a barren and rocky surface around it. The buildings are all on fire, the rain doing little to quench it, and each flame seems to stare at me, as if it is my fault that the rain falls.

I walk to the fence and stare through it. There, surrounded by the burning buildings, sits a lone tavan, arms wrapped around its knees. It doesn't see me. I call out to it, and it looks up, eyes widening with surprise. It (he, I should say) runs to the part of the fence behind which I stand, and grabs onto it, mouth open. I lower my head in response, and tell him to leap the fence. His mouth is still open.

Come out here, I say. It's much nicer, and we can talk. He tries, obviously halfheartedly, but his last foot can't leave the ground. The earth yanks him sharply down again, and he picks himself up with a look of resigned apology, wiping the damp soil from his face.

Slowly, the darkness leaves, and with it its aura of terror. The dusk that replaces it carries only the aura of unease, barely detectable under the stench of death. The trees of this realm are bathed in dim light, though they scorn it with their nakedness and take no good from it. Their bony forms cast thin shadows, overlaying the creature which floats among them. She looks pleased with herself.

The small cat's proposal is met with a chuckle. Oh, you do? I don't see it with you. Perhaps you forgot to bring it. Ksò:äỳne lands and begins to carve out a place to sit with her wings. But if you want to talk, I'm all ears. I'm sure you've got something of great value to say to me.

by **1000 Cats** » Sun Nov 20, 2011 11:17 am

I sit with my shoulders back and sneer up at Ksò:äỳne. You've missed a lot, fly. The surrogate you've chosen wants nothing more to do with it, and, if you'll remember, I'm alive again. In fact, I'm asleep in a field, with your larva right next to me. If things don't go well here, I have no problem with waking up right now and leaving it to die of hunger in Èˑs:söhý:nhú:. Perhaps you've heard of it. It's a beautiful place to visit... in dreaming. Sand as far as the eye can see, and not a cloud to blot out the sun. Nothing moves there but the dunes, and that which will cease moving before long as they're burned from both above and below. Maybe you'll like to visit your child there.

Or, I flick an ear, maybe you would just prefer to take it back with you. Maybe you'll decide to be less of the parasite you so resemble and more like the mother one ought to be. Or maybe you'll just shuffle it along to another recently deceased to cause more havoc in their world. But not here. I have ownership now, and I want that thing out. And if you don't want to do it on your terms, I've no qualms with doing it on mine: if it's there when I wake up, it won't be for long. Beat. I hope we've reached something of an understanding?

I give my chest a wash with cool nonchalance, but before the wretch can answer I anticipate it. Oh, and don't think you can hold Kidanlera or Nˑkooäz over me. I've a feeling this mucous-covered maggot is worth more to you than anything's ever been to me. I don't know whether this is the truth or not. Not whether Ŷnksò:äỳne is worth much to its mother, but whether, now that I have them, I could ever be without the two strange and difficult relationships I've developed over the last two days. I almost can't imagine it, but I feel an odd pain in my stomach when I try, but with any luck, Ksò:äỳne wouldn't know that.

I press on, Besides, we both know you don't want me raising it. Let's just say I have neither Kidanlera's patience nor her motivation. What do you think, Sickness-Bringer?

by **The Tavan Race** » Mon Nov 28, 2011 6:12 am

A small pang of pity hits me as I watch the poor creature struggle to jump a fence no more than twice his height. Now the bleak surroundings make perfect sense; he didn't pick them, nor whatever mind-bending laws govern them. Is this what dreaming is like for everyone? I can't remember the last time my dream wasn't completely lucid, but my dreams are, heh, probably not the norm by which to judge.

So this is your dream? I ask through the fence. The other tavan says nothing. He doesn't seem to understand the question. What's your name?

Evoliyet. His voice is mellow.

Evoliyet. You see this place? Look around, and tell me if you like being here.

The tavan opens his mouth briefly, then adds, It's scary here. The buildings-- some of them-- Unable to articulate what exactly it is about the buildings that's frightening, he falls silent once more, head held a bit lower now.

I thought not. Evoliyet, I need you to stop thinking about the buildings. Just put this whole place out of your mind. Try closing your eyes, if that helps. For a moment, it looks as if he hasn't heard me. Then his eyelids snap shut, a look of wonder on his face. It occurs to me that since getting here, I haven't once seen him blink. I am a bit disturbed by that, and more so by the strange mental state he seems to be in. There must be some reason why he didn't think of this earlier.

Imagine your homeworld. Our homeworld. Less of an exercise in trust than you might think. In as much detail as you can.

Apparently, though not promptly, he does so, the rain giving way to filtered sunlight and the complex behind him growing into the foliage that filters it. I recognize it, because I have seen it, and on the edge of wherever we are I ran through it. Still I am amazed; this forest is infinitely more beautiful when the sun dapples the trees and their vine-covered limbs can properly gleam. I tell Evoliyet to open his eyes.

Did you do that? His nostrils are wide with wonder.

No, I reply. You did.

Ksò:äỳne, very calmly, continues to scoop wingfuls of mud out of the ground and shape them into the rough outline of a chair all throughout Ùoöhŷx:x's monologue. She never says a word or makes any attempt to interrupt, but, after waiting a few moments to ensure that the cat is really done talking, she sits down, turns to face her, then begins to chuckle.

I suppose you were going to make some kind of demand of me? I suppose you think that I can somehow make your friend take my daughter back, or, and it seems like an insult to your intelligence even to mention it, that I can take her back myself? Her expression is one of ironic glee, but it is something of a hollow one, and, compared to previous instances, it looks as if she's putting on an act. No, and as you'll soon come to understand, I don't need to.

Let me explain. All the times she's been away from her rightful parent, she's done things the way I would get them done, despite not yet knowing her own strength. She hasn't died yet either, which, you'll love to know, I've been expecting every one of those times. I'll be honest with you, I don't entirely know why not. But I suppose that's to be expected. I've never actually had anyone abandon one of my children before.

Regardless, I'd love to see you get rid of her. Drop her off in the desert, and maybe she'll end up with a less self-contradictory domain than I've got. Try to cut her throat for all I care. Though her tone is dismissive, her eyes sparkle with wonder, and for a moment she looks genuinely gleeful rather than simply purposefully cruel. And maybe she'll end up getting her power from it.

What I'm trying to say is that your victory was as illusory as it was insignificant, so you hold nothing over me. She smirks, though again it is weak, before adding, And I hope you left Kidanlera on a good note. She's one of the less stable yolks I could have picked.

Have fun existing.

by **1000 Cats** » Mon Nov 28, 2011 2:29 pm

"I will," I say. But I'm already awake. The worm's still next to me.

That didn't go as I had hoped. If that deformity had felt any weakness, she hadn't shown it. She seemed confident that I could do nothing to harm her offspring, but then... she had still given her daughter to Kidanlera. It needs contact, caring of some sort; the obvious reaction would be to not give it myself. To me, that means doing precisely what I said I would do.

But first: food. Since coming back to life, I've slept twice and not eaten once, and even though one of those naps has been next to the most gut-wrenching organism ever to slime its way across the savanna, that doesn't stop my stomach from growling. I hope I won't have to eat it, especially not after what Ksò:äỳne's told me. Try to cut her throat for all I care, and maybe she'll end up getting her power from it. I give an involuntary shudder. She may be a liar, but she wields fear and inability like well-honed claws.

I won't be stealing, either. Not today, not accompanied by this thing. It's been a long time since I've hunted for myself, but the sun is well down now. Unless I've completely forgotten what it means to be a cat, anything that's awake at this time won't see me coming, even with a pelt as white as mine.

"Alright, maggot," I say, turning to face it. "Your sorry excuse for a mother isn't about to take you back. And here in this world, unwanted children have to fend for themselves." I pad over to it with square shoulders, "Some of us live. But for now, you're going to be staying with me, because I know the sort of mayhem you create when you're off on your own. Make any noise and you'll be buried before your next meal."

I walk out of the garden and taste the rapidly cooling breeze. The watering hole is still relatively close by. That's where hunting cats go to prey, isn't it? My dam, I really don't know what I'm doing. On top of that, I can't smell anything else; the smell of óce is clogging my nostrils. Maybe it always is. Whatever. I'll go fishing if I have to.

"This way," I tell the worm, and head off at a trot.

by **The Tavan Race** » Fri Dec 09, 2011 6:22 am

There is nothing here except the winged Goddess. The usual scenery has paled and disappeared, with no one left to keep it in existence. One might assume that the Goddess herself might keep up the charade of reality, but she is preoccupied, sitting cross-legged with an orange stone in one hand and a gray stone in the other. The orange rock is smooth and polished, with innumerable tiny, pale grooves running in geometric patterns across its surface. The gray rock, in contrast, is like any other one might find walking along, rough and shapeless, with one sharp edge. Most of the time, the Goddess merely stares at the scarlet oval, as if unsure what to do about it, but every so often, she drags the sharp edge across it, slowly and carefully, pleased at how easily the recipient yields to it. Each new stroke elicits a blaze of white from the oval stone.

After a while, the Goddess stands and puts both objects down, summoning from nowhere a second oval of similar structure and coloration. At first glance it would appear identical to the first, though if one were prepared to spend any amount of time looking, one could discern subtle differences in the positioning of the grooves. This observant fellow might also notice that, without any special show, the scenery is back, in all of its gloomy oppression. The Goddess stares at the second stone for a moment, as if to make sure of something, then breathes out upon it, her raspy exhalation withering the stone as if it were a fragile sprout. It crumples and implodes before finally dissolving into ash and blowing away.

That’s amazing! You can change the world just by thinking about it? Evoliyet leaps over the fence with ease, now that gravity is as he remembers it. He is staring at me with some kind of admiration, though I don’t feel as if I necessarily deserve it. After all, this isn’t reality, but just the mixing of our two subconsciouses. I try to tell him as much, but he doesn’t seem to get it.

Sure you can! You just made those buildings go away, or I did, but the point is that we didn’t do anything to get rid of them.

No, Evoliyet, you misunderstand me. This isn’t anything real. We’re in a dream right now. Again a stare of blank incomprehension. Let’s talk about something else. My time here is limited.

No it’s not. I don’t have to be anywhere, so we can talk for as long as you want. His face is expectant. It breaks my heart.

Okay, but you can’t just follow me back to where I’m going. Sad face. It’s not that I won’t let you, just that, well, it’s very far away, and I can’t bring anyone along with me. Soon, I’ll just disappear, and wake up on some other world. I don’t know where it is, and I can’t ask anyone living there. They’re savages, probably think their world is flat or something. Evoliyet doesn’t appear to get it. It’s possible he thought that, too, since he doesn’t look very old. Maybe he’s never met another tribe to tell him stuff like this. Maybe, if we met in the Overworld, he wouldn’t even speak my language. So we can only meet in dreams. I know you don’t know what that means right now, but you will. Later.

Okay. Not convinced. Um, what’s your other world like?

I swish my tail and begin to imagine it.

The demon watches the cat slink off, relieved. It didn’t much like being around that creature, and not just because it’s callous and cruel. There’s something about its mind that seems off, as if its motivations were chosen at random. Why now does it leave, when ere it came this way? And more importantly, why are none of these actions concerned with caring for the demon? The creature is almost trying to reject it, when all it needs is to make the demon the center of its existence to be happy. The other one understood this. The other one accepted it. It may be true that the other one abandoned it, but this is only a minor glitch in an otherwise fundamentally good system. It was loved then, and it could be again.

As for being stuck with this thing. The infant has always wanted to go back to its rightful servant, to return to someone that saw its own greatness and acted upon it, but this desire is being slowly displaced. Displaced, that is, by a nagging pain at another’s neglect, and by the thought of the joys of this being feeling the same profound abandonment. So it would be; only knowledge would be necessary from here on out.

A moment after the cat has departed, the vermiform monstrosity follows, silent and outwardly calm, forgetting its form in its fury. Wings and fur are only comforts to the living, no more, and these it sheds, slithering forward on a more primitive body, trailing shadow.

by **1000 Cats** » Mon Dec 12, 2011 6:20 pm

I don't turn around for the remainder of the journey to the water hole. I can hear the thing behind me; I didn't need to torture myself further by looking at it. Instead, I set myself on wondering how precisely I could get rid of it. I realized, of course, that I could do so right now: once I got to the pond, I could toss it straight into the middle. Maybe shove a rock down its thick, slimy throat so it sinks. Ah, but I don't want a fish from a pond that's got that thing sputtering in it... maybe I'll do it after I've eaten. Or right before. The fish won't go anywhere (will it?) so I'll have a little more amusement watching it drown while I enjoy my meal.

And here we are: reeds rustling in a light breeze; the surface of the water hole shimmering quietly - but not too quietly. Even the worm in its idiocy must know there are fish here. If it can't hear it, it must be able to smell it.

"Alright," I say, turning around. "You. Stick that glutenous aAAAIII-"

I manage to land on all four feet, leaving a neat trail of fur and saliva behind me. "What-" I hiss, breathless and with every hair on my back standing straight up. The creature has changed, and was now, if possible, even more disgusting. Only now, there is a terror about it: it's sleeker, meaner. It has metamorphosed. Like some twisted caterpillar, into... into... "What."

I back away until I'm at least ten tails away from it, keeping my eyes on it. There's no change of plans, I tell myself. In fact, if anything, it just means I've got to get rid of it sooner. I find that I'm more able to do this, as my appetite has by great coincidence fled me in mid-air. But for now... for now... the worm had better just stay where it is.

Nˑkooäz is thinking. She's thinking about her name: Nˑkooäz. Not àrüe. She's thinking about the events of the day. It was so long, and she's so tired now; so much has happened. But looking around her, she can hardly tell they did. Her parents are alive; they greeted her jubilantly but, apart from seeming a little confused in general - maybe she was only imagining it - there's nothing to suggest that for a considerable length of time they had in fact been dead. There's nothing to suggest that she, Nˑkooäz, had traveled with an àrüe and even, for a time, a homicidal beast out of nightmares and the very one responsible for her parents' deaths. There's nothing to suggest that there was ever something wrong, and in reality, there undoubtedly still is. And that it, however tangentially, involves her. So she is thinking, so she doesn't forget what's already happened, and so she can decide just what she is going to do.

Perhaps she'll do nothing. No, most certainly, at least for now, she'll do nothing. She's tired, so she will sleep. Though her stomach is twisted into knots right now, upon awakening she will most undoubtedly be hungry; so she will eat. Perhaps everything will be clearer then.

There is a spot of the nest among the óce leaves her parents grew that is already indented, still warm, but in her exhaustion she doesn't notice. Dream has her wrapped in his paws before she even hits the ground.

Rêves à Deux [Closed]

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