Confidence is preparation. Everything else is beyond your control.

[judgementor]

Who: Red Wine & YOU.
When: All through Aguril.
Where: All around - specified in prompts.
What: Open and closed top levels, etc. Hit me up at hardtostarboard or by PM to plot!
Warnings: None yet, will be noted in subjects.

Comments

[wylderrant]

That's... certainly interesting. I hadn't thought that food had spirits, but here we are.

[ She laughs quietly. ]

So humans brought you into your present form?

[judgementor]

[He nods.]

When we're first summoned, the wishes of the human who summons us dictates our physical form. Sometimes they aren't even aware of what they want. My Master Attendant was very clear on her expectations... and thus I formed as you see me. [A beat follows, and then a slightly wry smile.]

More or less.

[wylderrant]

[ Iramaat laughs and doesn't bother to hide it. ]

Well, I can't say she had bad taste - or is that too gauche of me?

[judgementor]

[The vampire laughs in turn, a warm chuckle along with a small shake of his head.]

Not at all. I'm well aware of my aesthetic appeal.

[wylderrant]

Then if I ever meet your summoner, I will thank her.

[ Look at her, laying it on thick. ]

[judgementor]

[His smile turns a little wistful.]

She died a long time ago. [And yet, the loss still aches.] I'm not sure what I'd do if I saw her again.

[wylderrant]

Ah. That does happen, I suppose, with humans. They die...

[ She trails off, looking lost in thought. ]

Have you thought about that? Becoming mortal here? Or... mortalish if you're a vampire.

[judgementor]

Mm. It's crossed my mind more than once.

[He doesn't continue the thought for a few seconds, lost in watching the ripples on the water again. Then, as if suddenly coming back to himself, he pulls in a quick breath and subtly shifts position.]

Food Souls can die, of a fashion, but not in the way that humans understand. If we lose too much spirit power, either through injury or exertion of it, we... diminish. It's never happened to me, but it doesn't seem a comfortable way to exist.

[wylderrant]

It's... sort of the same for fae, I imagine. We don't really die. We sleep or we fade, but we don't die. And now living like this, knowing my body is going to age and that one day it will just stop...

[ Iramaat sighs. ]

I don't like it.

[judgementor]

[Red Wine's expression shifts into a faint grimace, though one directed more at what Iramaat implies than the woman herself. He sighs, resting his weight back slightly, and closes his eyes.]

There's a great deal not to like about being here. [He says, almost thoughtfully.] I find... I sometimes envy the people who seem to be able to enjoy it. I'm not always as dour as I seem, at least not in normal circumstances.

[wylderrant]

I enjoy parts of it. Other parts not so much.

[ She hums, chin in her hands. ]

You don't seem all the dour to me, but maybe that means we just need to spend more time together.

[judgementor]

[He chuckles.]

Clearly I'm not trying hard enough.

[But he does enjoy spending time with Iramaat. Their conversations are always interesting.]

I wouldn't object to seeing you more often, but I'd so hate to ruin your impression of me.

[wylderrant]

Think nothing of it. I doubt you could ruin my impression at this point.

[ She laughs and leans over to give him a nudge with her elbow. ]

I think I shall stick around to see if you can, though.

[judgementor]

[He chuckles, giving her a gentle nudge in return. And-- god, he had missed just sitting with someone and trading gentle jibes like this. Everything had been so tied up in stress and anger since he'd arrived here.]

I don't think I'll ever get used to being here. [Red Wine admits, humming softly.] But I suppose it might be close to tolerable, some day.

[wylderrant]

I feel the same, I think. I'd much rather be back the way I was... but I can't keep saying that, can I?

[ She sighs. ]

I just need to keep moving forward.