quiet people have the loudest minds;

[rhinemaid]

Who: Ilde Decima & Gaheris Rhade
What: A conversation by the waterside.
Where: The Gross Tar.
When: Veerdi evening.
Warnings: Ilde's various issues and past trauma is hinted at and may become relevant.

It isn't a secret, what she is.

In her defiance of Prometheus, Ilde is almost aggressively honest about it - 'fierce pride' not just a phrase but a kind of bloodied truth, hatred and pain and a protective instinct all surpassing that quiet voice in the back of her mind that says but you really aren't worth all that much, are you because the day she implicitly endorses their agenda in any way is the day that becomes true. So her illusions are about comfort, but not about secrecy; they're about privacy, not about hiding. She touches the world on her terms (they look at her on her terms).

Most people know, at least intellectually, that Ilde isn't human. It's knowledge that gives context to the things about her that don't fit (the way she moves, sometimes-- the things that make her smile, the things that stir her interest); she's faerie, and they don't think, move or act quite like humans do. They can pretend, sometimes, but it's not the same. Most people know enough to grasp this.

Still.

The first time you see her in the river, just huge dark eyes above the waterline, still and curious and otherworldly and watching--

--well, you don't see that every day.

Comments

[rhinemaid]

"Hello," she says, then, obligingly, as she settles on a rock near the bank; it's funny how often people here manage to be more startled by her breasts than the fact she's got a tail (with what looks like an odd dark smudge on one side, where her thigh would otherwise be) and Rhade is immediately rated slightly above them for not appearing to suffer the same crippling fear of nudity.

There is a method to her madness, this evening, but it's not something she feels an obligation to interrogate him about so abruptly-- in fact, his query may lead perfectly naturally into what she wants to discuss. So she says, easy as you please, "A naiad. River-maiden. A kind of faerie, like a siren, but not for the sea."

A beat.

"That's mermaids." There's a difference.

[truth_is_cold]

Breasts he has seen his fair share of (not that hers are bad) but tails he has not. He just mouths an Oh, and will accept that difference for what it's worth. He's not a typical human and would want that to be remembered, and he childishly cranes in an effort to see the distorted shape.

"You have me at a loss. I've never met either- until now, I suppose."

[rhinemaid]

"Technically, you just didn't know you had. 'Til now." In most people's daydreams of the fae, they aren't pedantic little wonks; it just goes to show what some people know. When she realizes what it is he's trying to get a better look at-- "I have a tattoo around my thigh," she explains, "but only the one, so it just looks odd when I don't have thighs." Or knees, or feet. Ilde much prefers living life feet-optional. They have their uses, but there's really a time and a place.

It's evident now as well that she is at least wearing a belt, slung around her hips to carry the sheath of an unpleasant looking kukri machete. (She has a fondness.)

[truth_is_cold]

The blade is nice, too. He's missed his collection of them since coming to Baedel. Like the smooth bastard he is, he wrings the water out of his socks and lets his feet rest in cool, wet sand.

"Is it safe? The river? I came to check, but if you use it-" live in it? "-I would suppose that you would be able to tell more efficiently than I could."

Whatever adjusting to the situation that was needed? He is apparently done with.

[rhinemaid]

"Safe enough," Ilde shrugs, skimming her palm over and watching the ripples. Her fins rest in the water, properly, and if he's still observing then he'll see how she can't quite keep herself still, idle but constant. "It isn't polluted terribly, but I don't advise humans and similar spend a lot of time in it, anyway."

Mostly because it's not theirs, though; she has opinions on these things.

[truth_is_cold]

He takes it that there are things in the water (besides her, armed as she is) that make it dangerous. He does note that she doesn't seem to hold still- like fish do when they constantly need to keep air circulating.

"Can you only ah... assume the one-" he motions over his face, indicating the appearance he's usually accustomed to.

[rhinemaid]

"I can do other things, but I don't really need to. Illusions are usually fine." She wouldn't assume a properly human form, for instance; she tried, once, and found it uncomfortable, to put it politely. (A psychological discomfort, and not a physical one.) "I'm good at those."

She drags her tail through the water below the rock, thoughtfully. "There's no one exactly like me here, but other fae. Just different kinds. The princess at Hellsing, and a man named Tadhg."

But they're Irish. (Does that even matter?)