Alms for the Small One

[Visla Eraclaire]

Closed to Godhand

Terrible experiences pose the riddle whether the person who has them is not terrible.

The thin, paper bound book was heavily creased. Since she left Uiria with a satchel of similar curiosities, Visla had taken to reading at least one aphorism a day. Today's seemed particularly apt to her situation in life. Despite her early skepticism, she began to wonder whether there was something to this man's writings after all. It didn't hurt that there was a mostly empty bottle of white wine by her bedside.

"Aelva, you really should read this," she stumbled over and interrupted the succubus as she was examining a series of notes scrawled in her own hand concerning a spell.

"I think I'll leave the philosophy to you, Vis. Life is what it is. If a few pithy phrases make you feel better about it, I'm happy for you, but don't forget that man isn't even writing about our world," she replied without looking up.

"But that's what's so fascinating about it. Everything he says is as true here and now as it was then and there. Perhaps it is even more true, given the reception he received in his own time," Visla retorted, pushing the parchment down from Aelva's face to look her in the eyes.

"I'll make you a deal. If you will look for my notation on the dimensions of the circle for this ritual, I will read your dead man's words," Aelva said, passing the papers to Visla with a smile. She took them handily and placed the book in Aelva's lap, returning to lay in bed.

The mattress was still new and a little stiff. Since returning the Radasanth, Visla had spent almost all her money re-furnishing her small apartment to accommodate both herself and Aelva. As it was, they were scraping bottom in terms of monetary reserves. Still, for the moment, entertainment was free and only Visla ate, and at that very little. By her estimates, they could make it for a week or so before she'd have to admit to Aelva that they were broke. Maybe less, she thought, as she polished off the last of the wine and looked out the window. It was dark out, but perhaps there was still a stall open somewhere in the bazaar where she could get a replacement. She put the notes down without much of a look and grabbed her cane and a small coin purse before heading to the door.

"Where do you think you're going? We had a deal," Aelva chided her.

"Out of wine," Visla mumbled and let the door slam behind her.

"If one has character one also has one's typical experience, which recurs repeatedly," Aelva quoted and then placed the book on her lap and looked toward the doorway. She sighed and began muttering the words of the ritual to summon her wings. Visla would likely gripe if she went after her, but still, she did need watching, especially with the state she was in.

[Godhand]

"What can I get for you sir?"

"Yeah, I'd like a chicken sandwich...With just ketchup on it."

"Alright."

"Just, like-Bun, chicken, ketchup, bun. No lettuce, tomatoes...None of that. Is that okay?"

"One chicken sandwich with only ketchup."

"Yeah. Thanks."

"Next!"

Godhand paid and sat over at a nearby table, folding his hands and tapping the heel of his boot lightly on the floor. Not enough to make any noise, but enough to distract himself. He looked around the small bistro; all around him were landlocked werewhales, the blobby lobby. It was probably the most haunting and immediate warning that he should just walk away but what could he do? Chicken tasted good. Food tasted good. If listening to music made you fat and gave you health problems, would people give up rock and roll? Fuck no. He didn't have much time to give it any deeper thought though because soon enough, a waiter came by with his order.

That was the good thing about these express restaurants; they were real fucking quick. The whole set-up was designed to get people in and out as fast as possible, so that meant it was all stripped down and streamlined for maximum efficiency. He was pretty sure it was all based on one modular design. The food was passable and, depending on how long you'd gone without eating, even tasty. It wasn't real healthy. The help was curt but they were getting minimum wage anyway so the patrons were lucky they didn't start a fire and bar the doors. In any case, the whole thing had been thought up with convenience in mind. Godhand smiled and opened the wrapper of his sandwich, took off the top bun and what should he see?

A huge shot of mayonnaise, dead center on the patty.

He sighed, dreading what came next, half wrapped up his sandwich and walked towards the counter. The man was busy with someone else but paid a modicum of attention to Godhand.

"Listen, man..."

"Yes, sir?"

"You put some mayonnaise on my sandwich. I asked for ketchup. Just ketchup."

"The ketchup dispenser is right next to you. Can't you just scrape the mayonnaise off?"

"I really don't mean to bust your balls, guy. It's just that I'm sort of finicky about this stuff and..."

"We'll make you a new order right away, sir."

The second sandwich got made even faster than the first. Whoever it was that made them had put in a heaping helping of ketchup, but Godhand was hesitant to take a bite.

"Thank you, I think I'll take it to go."

That was the other problem with places like this. Whoever made the meals was hidden from view, free to do God knows what to the food of any customer who annoyed him. The mercenary tried to gauge whether or not they had spit in his sandwich, saw that the ketchup made it impossible to tell and hesitated only briefly before throwing it away. Why risk it? Whoever was in the back might have had mono and then he'd be laid up in bed for days over a three mark sandwich. It just wasn't worth it.

[Visla Eraclaire]

As the wine worked its way from Visla's stomach to her veins, the walk through the streets seemed to Visla like it was taking forever. She was conscious of every breath and every step as the world flowed by around her. By the time she reached the bazaar she was almost out of breath. She leaned up against a storefront and panted it a bit, glancing off into the distance through somewhat hazy eyes.

"Is that guy seriously complaining about his sandwich?" she said quietly, but still aloud. Evidently her inner monologue was taking a rest as well. "What a jackass. You have to expect people are going to mess things up when you go to a place like that. If I were that clerk, I'd give him some ketchup right in his face."

She stumbled on, within sight of the wine shop and noting a candle still flickering in its window. "I guess that's why I'm not that clerk," she said as she meandered closer to the little café. "I wouldn't last a week."

As she passed the picky customer, she turned to glare at him, but just as she opened her mouth, her eyes widened and she was speechless. There was no explanation for it. Rugged as he might be, there were a dozen others just like him that she saw any given day walking down the streets. Most were common laborers. Still, when words finally came out of her mouth, they were these inexplicable gems.

"Hey~! I'm Visla, who're you?" she was even twirling her hair with her free hand.

Aelva fortunately couldn't see that detail from the sky above. All she could tell was that Visla had stopped next to the burly man. Given her companion's temperament, this was suspicious enough to warrant further investigation. She swooped down onto the café's rooftop and leaned over to watch. It wasn't a subtle maneuver and she felt fairly certain the man saw her. That suited her just fine. A black winged observer was a fair deterrent.

[Godhand]

Just as Godhand was turning around to go visit a nearby winery who's owner he was friends with, he suddenly came to a dead halt as he nearly toppled a petite figure that had somehow gotten very close to him without him noticing. She wore a dull red dress and, while relatively unremarkable, had beautiful gleaming brown hair. While some might consider her a bit too plain, she stimulated the base kink that the mercenary had for pale book mice. What's more, though he'd barely laid eyes on her, she already seemed to be rather flirtatious. Since he very rarely found women to take an open interest in him, this, rather than boosting his ego merely sounded alarm bells in his head. He licked his bottom teeth and took a brief look around.

"Pleased to meet you, madame. I'm...", he paused, trying to think of a name, "Harley."

"Looks like you're a man who knows what he wants."

Godhand pursed his lips and tilted his head back just slightly.

"Pardon me?"

"What brings you out to a cafe this late?"

He now took to looking over the shirt girl and peer as best he could at anybody who wasn't idling nearby. Anybody who might be in on it. One of the tiles from the cafe roof slid off and broke against the ground, and Godhand allowed himself a minute smile. He extended his hand as if to take hers and bring it to his lips. The girl nearly swooned and placed hand on his, and as the mercenary brought it nearer to his mouth he instead smoothly brought his head next to her ear.

"So what's the con here? You lead me into an alley, your friend on the roof follows us and right as we're getting to business he hits me with a huge sap?"

[Visla Eraclaire]

All dialogue for Visla in Godhand's posts provided or approved

"Huh?" Visla turned and glanced along the man's eye-line toward the rooftops. Aelva stood, leaning over the edge, not even trying to hide. "What the hell, Aelva!? You were supposed to be reading."

The succubus jumped down and fluttered herself to a halt behind her summoner. The warlock simply turned back to the man she was suddenly and unreasonably interested in. "Pardon her intrusion, she has no sense of manners," she apologized with a clumsy curtsey made only more awkward by the fact that she was not wearing a dress, but common traveling pants.

Visla's tone was more than just inebriated, and Aelva glared at the man with critical eyes trying to discern what he had done to her. She sniffed the air and then in an instant revealed her demonic nature, with no regard for the staff or other patrons of the café.

"Show yourself, incubus. What are you doing on this plane?" she sowled. "This human's mine."

The air was heavy with demonic pheromones, and powerful ones at that. At close range, the scent was unmistakable to the succubus. They had her companion almost completely entranced. For her own part, Aelva possessed no such vulgar methods of manipulation. She viewed those who developed such an aura with pity and contempt, tactless hacks who took the easy way out and were useless in anything but the most simple of scenarios.

As Aelva sized up the situation, Visla simply stared with mild bemusement. Under normal circumstances, she might be offended by her companion's possessive outburst, but as it was she was mostly flattered and intrigued to see the drama play out in front of her.

[Godhand]

It surprised Godhand that the person he'd surmised would be clubbing him unconscious at the first available opportunity was nothing but a skinny girl. Pretty, he supposed, in a more obvious way than her companion. But she was just a little off. Something about her didn't seem quite right; she seemed artificial. Plus there was something else Godhand couldn't place, a feeling of familiarity even though he was sure he'd never met her before. The other girl apologized for her and the mercenary had to give them credit for sticking to their guns even though their whole show had been blown.

"Listen, ladies...I respect what you're trying to do here. Well, no, I don't. But I understand it. I mean, Hell, I've worked similar beats. There ain't no shame in it. Similar, obviously, not the same. I don't think I'd be very good at romancing some silver dollar."

He gave them as charming a smile as he could manage, and the girl who apparently fell in love with him at first sight nearly swooned. Now that was follow-through.

"But I'm not really the best ma-"

Before he could finish the sentence the over-anxious madame lunged forward and her already harsh visage morphed into something ghastly. Horns, who's small tips he could only assume had been hidden under her dark hair, suddenly extended from her temples red and ugly. Her hands became savage claws as her delicate feet turned into obsidian hooves and the black wings on her back extended to their full span. Godhand could smell the brimstone. He recoiled and took a quick step back, his hands shooting into his coat and drawing a pair of massive revolvers, one of which he pointed at the demon and the other at the seemingly innocuous girl, cocking them both in the same motion. If her friend had managed to keep her true nature hidden so well, who knew what monstrous creature the flirty brunette actually was?

"Back off, sister! You wouldn't have walked away the winner even if you had gotten the drop on me. What the Hell do you think will happen now?"

[Visla Eraclaire]

“What makes you think I wanted to get the drop on you? I'm just watching after her,” the succubus pointed at Visla. “And she's falling right into your pathetic little trap. Honestly, I have to ask you, what made you so lazy as to choose to develop an aura to ensnare your pray?”

Visla simply leaned on the table next to the man and pretended to ignore Aelva. “I don't know what she's talking about, but you've certainly ensnared me. What do you do with what you catch?”

Aelva would have thrown up if she were capable of it. She reared her hand back and slapped Visla across the left cheek. “Snap out of it, you twit. He's controlling you with pheromones. It's all a trick.”

Visla clutched her face and felt the pain, but the red mark formed across Aelva's instead and Visla began to snicker. “Hahah, that's what you get,” she said mockingly. It was now more the alcohol than any effect the man had brought upon her. She turned back to him. “Now, as I was saying. Want to go grab some wine to go with your sandwich? I don't know what goes well with cheap chicken, but we could just try them all until we find it.”

[Godhand]

"What are you-", he paused to answer the intoxicated young woman's question. "I throw them back. Listen, who..." He turned his eyes back to the demon, a curious smirk on his face as though he'd forgotten that he was still training his revolvers on the two girls,"...Do you think I'm one of those sex demons?"

His face lit up with a broad smile.

"A Moontae? Ahahaha oh man, I haven't...Why? Why do you think that?"

At first he thought these girls were trying to mug him, and once they didn't scatter once he pulled a pair of guns out on them he was starting to think maybe they were just going to try and shake him down by threatening to report a phony rape charge. The abrasive demoness seemed like she could easily be the inebriated girl's madame. And after all, who would they believe? A convicted felon and reputed assassin or two sweet virginal girls in their early twenties, spouting some hideous lie about how he'd clubbed them over the back of the head and savagely penetrated one of them while the other watched in mute horror, helpless to stop that monstrous ape while her younger sister (?) was brutally sodomized? Jesus, they'd cut his balls off. But it turned out to be something far more interesting; with all this talk of demons and auras, he'd surmised they must have mistaken him for one of Natamrael's brood. It'd been years since he'd had contact with any of them and he was shocked that whatever special print they'd left on him on their last meeting lingered so long that the mercenary had managed to pass for one with someone he assumed shared the same blood.

He hesitated for a moment but finally re holstered his guns. These women were harmless. Well, the flirty one anyway. The other one was likely to tear out his heart, but he still felt this was all some bad misunderstanding. Better to give them a chance to explain themselves than do something horrible right there in the middle of a crowded street.

[Visla Eraclaire]

Visla had never heard the word Moontae before. She didn't much care; she just leaned back against her cane and continued to snicker at the idea of sex demons. For all of the reputation succubi seemed to have developed over time, she found that Aelva was surprisingly frigid. She figured it was either more complicated than the various grimoires and old wives tales made it out to be, or she had just picked a dud. Either way, she continued to fawn helplessly over the man while her companion attempted to reason with him.

“Now that you mention it, yes. I hadn't been that precise before but you do smell like a Moontae. Why else would my beloved warlock be flirting with you like the giddy schoolgirl that she never was?” Aelva responded, glancing over and noticing that Visla was leaning in toward the man again. She gripped her tightly by the shoulder and leaned her back against the wall of the cafe.

“Aww, how sweet. It's no offense to you, ya know? He's just, wow...” Visla rambled.

“You – are – drugged. I don't know how much more clearly I can put this, Vis. I've never seen someone so stubbornly entranced by a simple aura like this. You're pathetic,” she rolled her eyes.

“If you hadn't just said... whatever nice thing you just said, I'd be very upset with you,” the warlock responded, falling forward a bit and catching herself conveniently against Aelva's bust.

“Now you're just drunk,” the succubus sighed and pulled Visla's head back up by her long hair. “We're going home, and I'm going to start rationing the wine.”

“I'm a grown woman!”

“Then act like one,” Aelva started to drag a resistant Visla back to their apartment like an impudent child. She glanced back over her shoulder toward the strange man, “If you really aren't a Moontae, enjoy having this happen for the rest of your life. I think that's the greatest punishment.”

[Godhand]

Strange women in this nervous night in Radasanth. That was one of the problems with being the world's melting-pot; you got all the freaks and weirdos along with anybody of consequence. For every brilliant young scientist there was some deranged demagogue and the egos of various stubborn races inevitably clashed, turning some of the more metropolitan parts of town into a real hellbroth of real and imagined offenses. The elves didn't get along with the drow who didn't get along with the dwarves who were always at odds with the Draconians who hated everybody else. And in the middle of it all? Humans. It was a wonder the capital hadn't already been burned down. Godhand watched the two young women saunter off, taking the time to gaze appreciatively at the demon's backside. It was such a shame she was crazy.

Such a shame.

Godhand thought about Natamrael. It had been years since he'd heard the word Moontae, but even now he still couldn't manage to divorce it from the woman. He'd crossed paths with her when he was a much younger, dumber man. Boy, she'd played him like a fiddle. She'd seduced him practically with a snap of her fingers, and thinking back on it he considered it a wonder that she hadn't slit his throat or devoured him while he recovered from their little encounter. The mercenary had been a truly different person back then. Not quite naive but not paranoid either and dumb, dumb, dumb. How had he ever managed to survive that long? He'd learned a decade or two later that the Moontae matriarch had perished not long after. Some rabid swine had cut off her head and her two bodyguards were nowhere to be found. Some goddamn infighting; it was always the same old song. It was almost inconceivable to him that he'd outlived the immortal succubus but he supposed that's the way it went.

He'd met her daughter. Nice girl.

The walk back to his apartment seemed longer than it actually was. Heady thoughts and intense, almost searing nostalgia dogged him every step of the way. He'd followed the Moontae train of thought all the way back to his first battle in the citadel versus a fledgling necromancer, his first victory over a stronger opponent in Kurtox Kobain. Assisting in saving one of the Ice Reaver's premier members from being executed and then his inconsequential contributions to the Ice Reaver - Facade war and the Red Hand occupation of the Bazaar. His losing effort in the Grey Braves conflict. His joining and then subsequent departure from the Brotherhood. And everything inbetween. God, he was once young.

He was once unbelievably young.

Godhand shut the door behind him once he'd reached his apartment. The mercenary removed his holsters and hung them from a coat rack, walking into the kitchen and pulling out his bread box. He thought about making himself a sandwich but he was too tired and hungry. Instead he removed several slices of bread from the bag and ate them without anything else. He got the hiccups and drank a glass of water. He thought about his life. And then he went to sleep.

[Visla Eraclaire]

"Well that was an unceremonious failure," Visla huffed from beneath the bed sheets. It had been almost an hour of silence in the apartment since they returned. In that time, Visla had fully regained her faculties and Aelva had simply sat across from her. It was staring mostly, but occasionally she'd glance down at her notes and magical formulae to give the appearance that she was doing more than watching the warlock. Visla glanced over at the empty wine bottle as Aelva took it to discard. "Hey! I've been keeping those."

"Oh?" Aelva replied incredulously. "Where?"

Visla realized immediately that this admission had been a mistake. She pointed reluctantly toward the closet. She only had two sets of clothes and Aelva had no need to dress herself, thus the small enclosure was virtually unused. As Aelva pulled the door open, an avalanche of clanking glass bottles poured onto the floor. The labels were varied and spoke more to curious boredom and experimentation than a resigned alcoholism. Still, the sight itself was staggering.

"Where do you find the time?" Aelva asked, genuinely curious and almost impressed by the sheer excess.

"When you go to buy more parchment for your scrolls or visit the library. I don't have spells to practice or anything productive to do. So I go and buy a bottle, a new one every time, and read more of the books I've borrowed," Visla sighed.

"How much money have you wasted on this?" Aelva continued.

"Some. We can still make rent," Visla replied. "For a while…"

"That's it. We're leaving," Aelva declared, already beginning to gather her things.

"Did I miss your coronation, Queen Aelva? Where would we go anyway?"

"Salvar. There's a man there named Abbaraxx, a master demonologist. He might be able to tell you something about the price you paid to bring me back. I didn't want to trouble you with it, but it seems you're troubled as it is," Aelva answered decisively.

"Fine. It's just as well," Visla said, resigned. She refused to admit that the idea excited her a little. At the very least, it would give her something to do. Salvar was a mystery to her, little more than a mark on the map. The warlock had no way of knowing what awaited her there, and, at this point, that was reason enough to go.

[Duffy]

As I made clear, things have tumbled out of control and with the exception of the other night, I have had little chance to sit and read properly to give a judgement the attention it deserves. You asked for a full commentary to discover where you ‘went wrong,’ but after having gone through it three times, I’m failing to see where this mistake you presume is. It’s perfectly competent writing, of course, if you’re accustomed to flawless perfection, then a 60+ score might not be to your liking. I haven’t got the time to go into any more detail than what is below, so for time’s sake, I’ve awarded score and gold on the notes I’ve made, and can sit and go through it in more minute detail at a later date should you still require it.

So without further ado.

Continuity (6)

A brief thread that flowed and developed nicely, the only sticking points were Godhand’s brief reflection on his daughter seeming out of place with the narrative/style, and Visla sobering up too quickly. I felt you could’ve played on the alcohol references a little more creatively than you did.

Setting (5)

Bare skeletal setting, placement references and colour tones. Godhand’s brief description of the bistro, the ‘landlocked whales’ was the most memorable. I’m not suggesting you go all Virginia Woolf on us in your descriptions, but this sort of metaphorical analogical wotsit humour carried well in what was a light-hearted thread.

Pacing (6)

Short. Quick, but timed well. Didn’t score higher as it’s difficult to judge pacing when the thread is of this length. You bound well off one another, and know how to lead in and out of your posts, so nice work.

Dialogue (6)

Neither of you can be said to be lacking in the mechanical aspect of writing, as you’ll see in the writing section below, but the dialogue in most of the thread is methodical, by the books, speaking by numbers. From brief flicks through other work Visla, you’re much more capable of involving discourse between Aelva and Visla, and I understand you ‘cut your losses’ but the sisterly bond between your characters is a vast goldmine of material you don’t seem to want to mine. Godhand on the other hand has better character development seeping into his dialogue, but again, it’s nothing extraordinary. Certainly above board though, maybe a hint of spice might make a better…(fails at food references.)

Action (7)
Good strong placement of characters and their movements. Didn’t score an 8 or above as there wasn’t much ‘action.’

Persona (7) Both of you know how to work your characters, I don’t think there’s much to say, besides working on the dialogue.

Technique (6)

Godhand is certainly the stronger writer technique wise within this thread, but both of you express competency without flair. Of course, I’m the other way around, too much flair without the building blocks. I’m not best advised to help improve your writing, technique is something you develop in time to set yourself apart from other writers, so perhaps mix it up a little and see how it goes?

Mechanics (9)

I think I saw one…maybe two minor mistakes or awkward arrangements? Virtually not noticeable, so scored high for that.

Clarity (7)

Only point I was unsure on was the ‘met his daughter’ bit.

Wild Card (5)

Total Score 64/100

Godhand gained 2287 XP and 100 gold.

Visla Eraclaire gained 1906 XP and 100 gold.

[Taskmienster]

Exp and GP added.