multiversallogs | i am hung with graveyard flowers;

Who: Ilde Decima and Hasi; OPEN
What: The water helps her.
Where: The Gross Tar; initially near her waterfall territory in Raven's Gate, after that various areas.
When: Givdi with Hasi; open after that through Shundi.
Notes: Specify time/place (if not Raven's Gate) if you tag in, please!
Warnings: Descriptions of LM:A-related horrors to follow in the thread with Hasi; discussion of rape & related fall out in thread with Jae.

When she finally goes down to the water, it feels so good that she hates herself for a moment sliding in, her clothes on the bank under an illusion. It soaks into her skin like she belongs there and she's glad that she got there first, that Hasi isn't there yet, because sinking into it hurts a little and it's-- not anybody's business what internal conflicts she's having. She just died. She's allowed to feel...whatever this is that she's feeling, and whatever it is she's going to feel it at the bottom of the river for a while, her tail catching light as it flicks up before she dives.

She'll surface, eventually.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Some of them are all right," she says, but it's grudging and speaks of exceptions to a rule; humans have to prove their trustworthiness to her in a way that other xenians just don't. In a way that he doesn't, now, because he's like her, almost, and Ilde has been starved for that in a way she hasn't really admitted to anyone. She likes Mafaton so much because, for all that it's mainly a vampire town, it's also mainly a not human place.

It's valuable to her, the ability to go somewhere they aren't.

"But just be careful." Her hand is still healing where the razors cut her in the arrival room, and she examines her palm for a moment before tucking it back against her lap; it's not so bad as it was, she doesn't need the bandage any more. It's just irritating, how the skin pulls and reminds her. "There are lots of us, not human, though. Not like us--" them, water creatures, "--but other xenians. And we've got ways." A shrug; Ilde doesn't put up with hardly anything any more, she tells herself.

He nods, because it's the all right that's integral there. He knows they can be all right, as individuals, just nothing more than that.

"I will be." He repeats, "There are some others who arrived recently, I'll pass on the warning to them." He's only really talking about telling Vanadi, really, because who else could possibly matter? Still, it's important to have your paranoia confirmed, and to have someone who knows more than you do to back you up when you're telling your friends why they should trust no one.

"Did they do that to you?" He nods toward her hand, noticing her looking down at is as they talk.

"Not that," curling her fingers over the marks. Other things, one could safely assume; but not that. "It was an accident."

In a manner of speaking. Some people in Baedal are almost blasé about the fact of their own deaths, but Ilde isn't quite one of them, not yet.

"They started the Mafaton riots, though. I was there when that happened."

He frowns, his obliviousness to this piece of Baedel's social history evident on his face. "Mafaton riots? That's one of the neighborhoods close to the Valhalla Inn, isn't it?" He's been there a few times, but it always struck him as being an especially quiet part of town. There'd never been too many people out and about, as far as he could see. "It doesn't seem like the kind of place where people would riot..."

"Don't go there at night," she says, reflexively; she goes there, because...well, she has her reasons, and she has her ways of being safe, but Conway strikes her as someone who probably shouldn't be in Mafaton too much. Or, like she says-- at night. "Mafaton is a cruorvore area -- vampires. Blood-drinkers. Some of them try to live the way anyone else does; there are ways, for them to be safe." For them to keep others safe, but it all works out to the same thing and she shrugs.

"It was politics. But they were starved and then poisoned and riots were incited. It wasn't nice."

Ivan would've killed her that night, if he'd made it back to the flat. If she'd still been there when he did. It's a strange thought, now, when she can still remember what it felt like to bleed out.

Shrieky doesn't doubt the veracity of the advice he's being given. It is almost certainly true that he shouldn't go to Mafaton at night, as would be true of any location filled with creatures that needed to eat something which he contained in order to survive. However... while it's true that he's heard of vampires, he's certainly never met any, and the idea of them congregating in a specific area is intriguing to him.

Maybe he'll just go there during the day.

What she tells him about the riots is... not surprising, exactly, but baffling, "Why would they do that?" He pauses for a moment, before adding, "I mean, I know that they are terrible and perhaps that they don't need any more of a reason than that, but... wouldn't starving, rioting vampires kill many humans?"

Despite the fact Ilde is quite fond of numerous vampires - or maybe because of - she isn't going to dispute the fact they're terrible. (At least one of those she's so fond of wouldn't lift a finger if she were about to die in his club, especially if it were somehow entertaining; they still get along, because they amuse each other.) She doesn't mind, mostly, that this is so. It's part of why the Mafaton incident irritated her so much, putting her in the position of being offended on behalf of the indefensible.

At least she could point out it had mostly targeted those trying to live quiet, goodly lives. Vampires like Deacon Frost didn't drink bagged shit in the first place.

"Yes," she says, succinctly, "and be killed by them for containment. Violent social sleight of hand. Look left, while I do this on the right--" with illustrative hand gestures. The frustrating part is that she still isn't sure exactly what was happening on the right while they were all looking left. "It was made to look like they were only concerned for human safety, but that wasn't it at all."

And then it ended, and the cruorvore population had dropped significantly, and most people just forgot. It still grates.

He props his elbows on his knees, and presses his fingertips across his lips for a moment. He could follow the logic of it, more or less. Make the vampires hungry and angry, and get them to attack humans, so that when the humans tried to wipe them out it would look as though they deserved it. What he didn't understand was why any humans would have agreed to be attacked in order to make this happen, and... what had happened to make them think that they required an excuse to kill and control other creatures?

He dragged the tip of his toe through the mud of the bank, frowning as he turned the thought over in his mind. Perhaps the humans who were to be attacked hadn't been told the plan? Which meant that when they were attacked, they would have believed that the vampires had no reason for doing so. Perhaps some of them had actually believed that killing the vampires was for their own protection.

Shrieky couldn't decide if this made humans more or less terrible. Probably more.

"Do you know why they did it?" He found himself asking, "Why they wanted to kill the vampires? Was it because they were afraid of them, or just because they hated them?"

"I think it was hatred, and fear, and something else more complicated," she says, slowly, resting her fins in the shallow water and fidgeting with her bracelet, picking at the gold apple. "A particular group did it-- they hide behind propaganda and other groups and..."

Ilde shakes her head, abruptly, because going too far into the Candlelighters right now leads her back to Prometheus and a hundred things she's trying not to think too hard about this week.

"Politics," she repeats, like it's a filthy word. "Maneuvering. Strategy."

He listens, quietly and intently, but this turn of the conversation leaves him feeling more out of his depth than anything he's had to contemplate since his arrival. He knows - has had to have known - that there are forces that move the world beyond his control or understanding, but as long as he was never really a part of the world, any concerns he had were only ever abstract ones.

"Strategy." He repeats, although it's evident from his expression that he's slightly lost in this part of the conversation, "Like... trying to control the city? Or going into war?"

i am hung with graveyard flowers;

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