Event Log: January, Return to Dorchacht

[faileas]

Event Log: January, Return to Dorchacht

I. A Tarnished Reality The teleporter to Dorchacht becomes operational by the 4th and the ambassadors return to their city with the first open, ceremonial operation of the device - along with any Mirrorbound who wish to join them, and Theodore Rosethorne and Sowilo, who make the trip as representatives of the Coven to ensure that all is well. Those who missed the first teleportation, never fear! Now that both waypoints are functional, Mirrorbound and others may travel freely between Aefenglom and Dorchacht at any point they choose to. Notably absent from the group, though - most of the Dorchacht refugees originally smuggled into Aefenglom. Only three or four are going back with the ambassadors, and they're primarily Witches. The rest have chosen to stay. Upon return to Dorchacht, it's obvious that some major changes have been made with the new regime. The sky is overcast, but it's merely fault of the weather at this time of year - the oppressive fog that used to hang over the Black City is gone, along with its effects on the natural lunar cycle. The auction blocks, damaged in the fires of the event the locals now call "The Rising", have been fully torn down, not a trace of them left to sully the streets. Where the triple stars of the Resistance used to be worn in secret, a majority of citizens now bear them openly (and in many cases, proudly) on pins and on clothing. In fact, any Witches who do not display the triple stars on their person somewhere, are generally regarded with suspicion, disgust, or fear unless they're recognized as Mirrorbound Witches - careful not to be mistaken for a Drummond sympathizer. The Monster citizens won't be outwardly cruel to any Witches, but will be somewhat fearful, hurrying their children along or crossing the street to get away. Recognizable Mirrorbound, those who were there during The Rising and before, are treated a bit like celebrities on the streets, though any Mirrorbound are given a warm welcome, albeit a little less warm for Witches. Storytellers share tales of how diplomats treating one another, Witches and Monsters alike, as equals so publicly and openly within Dorchacht gave them hope that such a life is attainable, or how a band of Mirrorbound snuck into the city under the cover of darkness and helped give their Resistance a leg up in the good fight against Drummond's extremists. Others share stories of being rescued from burning buildings or cruel Witches during The Rising by brave heroes. Many of these tales are shared in the form of song, as homage to those Mirrorbound who brought hopeful music to Dorchacht through the radio, which is still operational and playing a selection of music with a little more variety. Still a bit soft, their speakers and songs are, but as time passes, they grow a little more experimental, branching out from the lullabies that used to be played. Overall, the Black City is much less black these days, a little greener and brighter from the plants left by Mirrorbound before. Where the old Dorchacht could take your breath away with its feeling of barred oppression, many of those barricaded windows have been opened, reinforcements on the doors broken down. Though things are never perfect after a revolution, and it's clear that the work continues. Armed Resistance guards patrol the streets in trios, normally two Monsters and a Witch, to keep the peace. Their first priority is the protection of Monsters, many of whom still seem anxious and scared as they go about their days - not of the guards themselves, who they often greet with smiles, but of the Witches and humans they pass on the streets. In some cases, keeping the peace means breaking up fights between their own and those humans and Witches who do not want to accept Monsters as their equals, and in some cases it means putting Drummond sympathizers in their places with intimidation and force. While they do their best to keep skirmishes out of Mirrorbound sight, it's clear that despite the improvements, Dorchacht is still no utopia, and the road to a true peace is fraught with speedbumps. As noted, characters are free to travel between Aefenglom and Dorchacht by teleporter as often as they'd like! The waypoints will remain open even after this month and travel will be unrestricted; we will note if this situation changes in the future. Dorchacht quests are also now available ICly!

II. A Few Alterations a. The Coven Major changes are still underway. One of the biggest that Mirrorbound will notice is that the new administration of Dorchacht have moved the Coven. The old building is in a state of disrepair right now, doors and windows wide open, the interior stripped of trappings. The library has shed its books to somewhere else. The basement where so many horrors took place is abandoned. Instead, a sign has been erected outside it, stating that this center of Drummond's operations will be turned into a museum to remember their unpleasant history, and to memorialize those who lost their lives fighting for freedom. It's still a work in progress, and not high on the priority list when survival and care of the citizens have to take precedence, but inside, characters may still find small shrines set up in various places to Resistance members who died there. Instead, Dorchacht's new Coven is currently based inside an old manor located just a handful of blocks from the town square, and it's a much more informal affair. Magic lessons have continued with Resistance Witches, though the subject matter has changed instead. They experiment with different types of magic based on their own interests, but many are studying plant magic, medicine, and defensive spells that can be used out in the Wilde. Anything that will prove to be practical going forward. Lessons are also open to Monsters now, so they can see what their magical brethren are learning (and know that the compulsion and control spells that Morgana loved so much are no longer being taught). With the Coven being moved, visitors from Aefenglom are offered places to stay either within the manor of the new Coven, or in various empty houses around the city. Stay as long as you'd like, they say, and apologize that the accommodations aren't nicer - reconstruction is still obviously ongoing all over the city, repairing damages from The Rising and the fighting that happened afterward. They don't really have anywhere as nice as the rooms their ambassadors were given in Aefenglom. b. The Walls One of the biggest on-going projects in Dorchacht right now is removing the Monster control spells from the set of enchantments on their city walls. High on the list of priorities is making sure that Monsters can feel safe again, secure in their own minds and bodies. As the spells are made visible, particular sets of runes have to be ground down and smoothed over. A spell is either cast or provided to soften the stone temporarily, and then it's basically going at it with magitech-powered sanders created by Hilda. The particular runes that need to be gotten rid of will be provided on reference sheets - please don't touch the others, they chide! Those are to protect from the Cwyld, and are still very important. While help is welcomed with open arms and enthusiasm at most sections of the walls, those guards posted at one particular small district, guarded with trios of Resistance members at each entrance and warded with alarm magic to warn of escape, turn Mirrorbound away; these runes are being altered, not removed, to help contain unruly Drummond loyalists, they say. The people who now live in that guarded district are all human, whether they're Witches or no, and all refuse to bear the triple stars. "Troublemakers," the guards will explain grimly. "We have to contain them for now. It isn't a perfect solution, but they've hurt people, or tried to hurt people, since Drummond was run out of town." c. Bond Lessons Bonding is a bit of a tricky subject in the new Dorchacht. Many Monsters are afraid of the idea, as it was once used as one of the collars around their necks, but the Circle of Three recognize it as an important way to wean citizens off the lullabies and calming draughts that prevent going feral during full moons. As part of encouraging others to form Bonds, partnerships at the very least the way most Resistance members describe theirs, there are demonstrations and public seminars that pop up around Dorchacht on the regular. They may be as informal as a circle in what's going to be a park or as official-seeming as a talk held inside a shop or lecture hall, but they have one thing in common. Many of the citizens are keen on getting Mirrorbound in on it -- mostly by dragging them in, asking if they have a Bonded, and if they do, they tell the Mirrorbound to talk about their Bonded. They're interested in the ups and downs (but mostly ups) of having one in order to show that if the Mirrorbound are into it, you should be too! They accept all stories but prefer the happy ones - the aim is to encourage their Monster citizens and help them be less afraid of taking that step with Witches. And for those who aren't in a Bond, or decline to talk -- well, they get what amounts to a "flour sack baby" in the form of a Dorchacht citizen of the opposite role of their own (a Monster would receive a human/Witch, a Witch would receive a Monster) that they must hang with for a day, ensuring no harm comes to them, bound by one of the temporary Bonding potions so popular in the Wilders' ranks. (As a note, for the second option, you have free reign of the NPC; do the personalities you find fun, be they cooperative or mischievous, shy or loud, abrasive to your character or someone they can genuinely get along with. They are all willing - no one is being forced into this. No Fae or Dragons allowed for Monster NPCs, unfortunately, as they are still very much not about.)

III. Ahoy Mateys! With Dorchacht opening up again after the last few months of closed off internal fighting, plenty of trading ships' Captains are ready and raring to go build business relations with the new regime and find a new market for some of their wares. There has been increased interest in finding a shorter route to Dorchacht by sea - the teleporter is useful for small groups of people, sure, but it can't handle much cargo. The only problem? Ships are being turned back, barely halfway there, with significant damage to their hulls. Brave individuals looking for a seafaring adventure are asked to come aboard and help the crew navigate tumultuous waters, hopefully figuring out along the way what's causing the damage to previous ships. It's a three day trip to Dorchacht if the waters are kind, and characters can simply teleport back home once there. On board the various ships brave enough to return to the sea, Mirrorbound find the problem halfway through the trip: a colossal squid that's made it home at this point, thrashing ships that come too close to its den. While uninfected, it does have injuries on its body, which may be the source of its lashing out. The ships are able to bring themselves close enough for longer ranged attacks, and the Harpy on board are careful not to be captured by the churning waves caused by the thrashing, but there's others who want to seek a less violent mean to end this surf and turf conflict. Killing, healing, subduing, or relocating it are all valid options, but getting in close to do any of those will be difficult, as it has a tendency to ink up the waters around it and reduce visibility to nothing. Be careful of any creatures swimming around that are interested in the weakened squid as well, such as various carnivorous fish, sea-plants, and things that appear alike to Merrow, but rely only on instinct. The Merrow cannot be spoken to, nor are they infected; the Captains of the ships will explain that they're "wild", and refer to them as distant cousins to the Merrow that sparsely populate Aefenglom itself.

IV. Back At Home Back in Aefenglom, the stir caused by the Circle of Three's arrival takes time to calm. It's the talk of the town for days - many seem happy about Morgana Drummond's apparent demise. "Good for them," is the general sentiment in the residential areas more populated by Monsters and the Harbor District. They're glad to know that things are on the way up there. Others think this is a boon; should anything happen, now Aefenglom has an ally city to stand with them, one in their debt. Others still don't really care either way, and go about their lives as if nothing's happened. The refugees, in their neighborhoods on the far reaches of the Haven, seem happy to hear news from home and find The Dragon/Starlight/Fafnir freed, and while a few of them choose to return to Dorchacht, having never put down roots in Aefenglom, more still don't wish to leave the homes and families they've formed here, or the Mirrorbound who have helped them so much over the months. Some even doubt that things are as good as they say, and choose to remain for that reason - slavery and ill treatment from the upper class in Aefenglom instilled in them a sense of (well-earned) paranoia regarding the intentions of Witches, especially those back home. They hear that things have changed, but don't necessarily want to find out for themselves. Even still, the mood is upbeat, with a general consensus that if Morgana is really gone, that's at least a solid step in the right direction. In the Aristocratic District, though, the atmosphere is sour. The general sentiment is that they wish the refugees would have left with those ambassadors. The kinder ones think Aefenglom should focus on its own citizens - the people from the Outer City brought in to weather the blizzard have never left, after all, still living in the neighborhoods with the refugees. Those who are more vocally outspoken about the Mirrorbounds' presence in the city think they should have all left to Dorchacht. Let another city shoulder all the misfortune they bring with them! Many of the people grumbling about that are ones who were directly affected by the Mists back in October, either through temporary changes themselves or through being attacked by ferals. Some of the more hot-headed young people try to spread this message - through graffiti, on homes and businesses in the Haven and the refugees' district, though if caught, they're quick to run away and not willing to enter into a confrontation. The graffiti is wholly mundane and not particularly difficult to remove, just unpleasant, telling Mirrorbound and refugees alike to "go home" or "go back to Dorchacht", in so much colorful language. Seems there's still some work to do at home, as well.

Welcome to your establishing post for the current situation in Dorchacht! This log takes place through the entire month; characters can come and go as they please. As always, you can direct all your questions HERE. This month we're also putting up a City Tracker for PC actions, both in Aefenglom's plot later on and Dorchacht's log here. Let us know what your character is doing, good or bad! The cut-off for the tracker is February 3rd.

Comments

[hearthebell]

[L finishes off the cinnamon roll more quickly than he realizes; one moment there's a soft and sticky bun in his hands, and then there isn't; he's devoured it utterly, nearly mindlessly. It's a point of pride that he doesn't do anything mindlessly, but Niles is right; he's starving on a level more desperate than most people in developed countries have an excuse for.

He tells himself all sorts of things, though. He feels, daily, the vertigo-inducing tilt of unfairness, but as long as he can convince himself that things are unfair in his favor, or through whirling rhetoric convince others, it's all tolerable in the end.]

I know that, at least. It's why wins and losses aren't anything personal to me.

[They are what they are: the ends, that the means all justify to this shabby, starving, utter child. He pulls the box toward him.]

When you gamble, are you thinking about the spoils, or the game?

[cyclopticsadist]

[Everything about Niles' expression says 'skeptical'. Linedn was competitive, egotistical, and had a superiority complex fit for the most entitled Royals Niles knows. Anything acting outside his control, much less taking an actual defeat, he would take as a personal attack. It's why Niles has such fun with him. Every unexpected reaction he can pull from Linden, every unpredictable erratic action he manages, get under his enemy's skin.]

I prefer to focus on the players.

[He scoots forward on the floor, pressing into Linden's whiskey and sweat scented personal space. He makes an only slightly exaggerated grimace at the smell, but doesn't let it impede his smile. Behind Linden is the bookshelf, limiting his options for retreat.]

You for example, are such a feeble, lonely little thing.

[hearthebell]

[It's all true, dismally so. Niles isn't wrong in how he's read L, but... there's a disconnect, concerning the competition, the ego, the complex. They're all connected to the title that is far larger than he is, and not so much to the scrawny and unimpressive man who takes up so little space in this cramped, stifling area.

L knows, damn well, that he is a mere battery. His brain powers something that will continue long after he's gone, consuming other batteries until human beings have evolved beyond evil.]

It could be worse. I could be focusing, incessantly, on one so feeble and lonely.

[cyclopticsadist]

Oh, but everybody loves watching a good tragedy. There's only one thing more satisfying than watching a well deserved fall from grace.

[He tilts his head to the side, reaches in and takes the second cinnamon roll, taking a generous bite of it, then speaking with his mouth full.]

And that's being the one giving the push.

[hearthebell]

[At least L has already eaten one. That'll keep him on his feet, help him function until he's fading again in the next day or two. The longer this goes on, the less sustainable it's becoming. It already feels insurmountable and overwhelming, every bit as much as the stack of unwashed dishes he just left in the SQUIP's home.

He could have used magic to clean them, as was his habit; even that felt like too much to demand of the detective, and it had been easier to throw away his key and choose homelessness, in the end. It's all just part of the highly irrational and strangely inevitable-feeling loop he's found himself locked into.]

I learn more about you nearly every time we speak. Sometimes, I think we have a great many things in common, but...

[His gaze lingers on the various stages of the cinnamon roll being eaten, hunger and envy a binary star system in his overlarge eyes.]

...I take no pleasure in witnessing the suffering of others. In that way we couldn't be more different.

[cyclopticsadist]

[Niles gives a little snort, then swallows his mouthful of pastry.]

Right, sure.

[Linden is baiting him, trying to push him into anger again by claiming to have the high ground. Blatantly ignoring the truth of his nature that he'd shown Niles. He wants to talk in circles around Niles about virtue and blame until he's dizzy and furious. And Niles has no intention of letting himself get caught in that trap.]

But what I'm saying is that I don't want to watch your pain. [He starts lazily licking the icing off the cinnamon roll.] I want to cause it. [Slurp, slurp, slurp.] Which I can't do right now because you're so utterly fragile. I don't pull my punches, and right now you'd shatter.

[Icing all gone, Niles tosses the spit slick pastry onto the floor in front of Linden. He hadn't planned to watch Linden agonize over eating the cinnamon roll, but once the idea was in his head he wanted to make it happen. Poison might not be much of a deterrent in his current state, but maybe disgust would be.]

[hearthebell]

[L's eyes narrow, circles to slits in moments as Niles licks the icing off with taunting leisure. He's flaunting the fact that he's stronger, that he could do whatever he wanted with L at this time, a shabby mouse cornered by a gloating apex predator.]

One person causes my suffering. He's a joyless master of the craft, and you...

[He stretches a thin leg out, using his unlaced boot to nudge aside the sticky remnants of the cinnamon roll with disdain.]

I'm sorry to say that you just don't measure up, Niles.

[cyclopticsadist]

[He quirks an eyebrow, shuffling through who Linden could be talking about. But answering that question was secondary to keeping his enemy from dying, and with the second cinnamon bun rejected, there was no point in sticking around here.

Niles grabs Linden's bony ankle and stands up, dragging him out from under the table.]

Well of course not, I haven't even gotten started yet.

[hearthebell]

[Reflexively, L's brittle and bitten-down nails clutch at the carpet, to no avail. He twists his body, reaching for a delicate blade he keeps on the inside pocket of his jacket, pressing its hungry edge against a vein in his wrist.

It turns out not to be quite up to the task. The trickle is sluggish, the smear over his palm meager, but it has to be enough. The electricity in his hands is less of a rope and more of a thread, but he loops it around Niles' forearm deftly, willing it to burn and bite through skin...

...only for it to snap and unravel before Niles' grip on his ankle even loosens. He slumps backward, breathless, heart pounding.]

[cyclopticsadist]

[After a moment of tension, Niles has to stifle a giggle. He pulls Linden out all the way, and bends over him to pry the knife from his hand. He looks it over with his eye with an appraising gaze. Quite nice. He pockets it. Shame this wasn't a mugging, he'd have to give it back later.

He looks over the thin quickly reddening mark crossing his arm. There's a slight stench of burnt hair where the band crossed over a patch of fur. He frowns and gives a snort.]

Ah, ah-ah, [He kneels down fully, lifting up Linden's arm to get a look at that cut. He tears a strip off of his shirt, and ties it around the cut. It might not be bleeding much, but that was because Linden didn't have much to lose.] Now why on earth would you lash out at someone helping you?

[His frown doesn't last. He could not say that with a straight face. Especially given the state Linden is in.]

You just lost your right to bridal carry. [Niles scoops him up, gently, tenderly....then hefts him up and slings him over his shoulder. Below Linden Niles' tail sways back and forth in long, delighted sweeps.]

[hearthebell]

[L's vision is gray and fuzzy around the edges as Niles pulls his scrawny, reclined frame out from under the library table. Prone and unwound and dazed, he's aware of Niles taking away his knife, but strangely distant and removed from the experience. His stomach lurches; for a moment, he thinks he'll vomit, and turns his head, but it passes, and he feels pressure as Niles rudimentarily dresses his wound.

His head clears enough to hear what Niles says, and oh, irony can be either sweet or stinging, depending on which side of it one is standing on.

L knows that he's not an imposing man. He realizes that he's willowy and that there isn't much substance to him. Nothing puts it in perspective quite like being tossed over Niles' shoulder like filthy, stale cargo, and what little bits of dignity he retains in this situation rely on him not futilely struggling against this. He won't prevail; heavy-lidded eyes watch the hypnotic motions of Niles' tail as the chimera starts off.]

[cyclopticsadist]

[He puts a hand along a bony spine, claws resting lightly over his prominent ribs. This time when he starts purring it's entirely genuine. This was so very satisfying. When it becomes clear that Linden is giving up on fighting him he strokes his back a few times in praise.]

Good boy. Just relax, we don't have far to go.

[hearthebell]

[If it wasn't so hateful, and didn't promise something far more malevolent down the line in the not-so-distant future, Niles' touch could almost be considered gentle. Taken a step further, it could even be considered tender or intimate. While L's sense of the world around him is returning, he isn't in the mood to entertain the notion of whether he finds it exciting or revolting.

Probably revolting, if he had to choose. The tightened thrill in his spine likely has to do with the proximity of Niles' claws to it, and nothing more.]

Where...

[He doesn't really expect an answer, of course. No more than he expects a cat with a mouse to let the thing go. A strange sense of detached calm has overtaken him, nature's ether for captured prey.]

[cyclopticsadist]

I'm taking you to the only person I know capable of tolerating you, Myr Shivana.

[His purring continues, the rumbling easily reverberating through Linden's frame. The tenderness is intentional, backed by spite and principle, but also by a thorough knowledge of the condition Linden is in. He's own frame had been this bony in his youth, before the scene Linden saw. He knew exactly what Linden needed, and he'd make sure Myr did too before he left.]

[hearthebell]

[Almost any answer wouldn't faze L in his current condition. He expects the worst, believes fully that Niles lied and intends him grievous harm. L's remaining Bonds aren't like what he had with the SQUIP, but he can call for help, send his location through the connections, and rely on Mello at least to rain hellfire down on anyone who harmed a hair on his dark head.

But, no. Niles reports the last place L expects. Someplace safe, warm and comfortable, and if it's even possible, he grows a shade paler.]

Myr doesn't need to be informed of this.

[Because Myr is the only one who can't see this state of utter ruin. Myr shouldn't see it, not when he is so determined to perceive the purest and most innocent parts of a man who has grown twisted in every other way, from his morals to his spine.]

[cyclopticsadist]

[Niles chuckles. More hypocrisy, how shocking.]

Some fool once claimed pride wasn't for the desperate. Good to see you don't agree. But in this case it's pointless. Linden, you're bonded to him, he has to already have felt the state you're in. [There's a brief pause as Niles follows that thought to it's obvious conclusion.] Although it's telling he hasn't come looking for you himself, isn't it?

[hearthebell]

It would be telling if it revealed something I didn't already know.

[Bonds aren't pure two-way windows into a pair of souls; perhaps some become that way, but both of L's remaining ones have no shortage of smoke and mirrors at play, things that he still buries and keeps hidden. A baseline of deprivation and misery is what they would consider his normal, and if things dropped off even slightly, rendering him in a worse state, it wouldn't tremendously shock anyone.

L still keeps his answer ambiguous, clear only in its contempt, because wouldn't it actually be foolish of him to give Niles insight into the nature of his Bonds that he could absolutely use?]

You're not helping me or causing my suffering, just so you know. At best, this is a mild annoyance.

[Says the man who is slung over Niles' back, currently too anemic and dehydrated to cast magic.]

[cyclopticsadist]

[That's an intriguing response, one that bodes very well for his eventual revenge plan. Any distance that existed between Linden and his bonds was useful to him, to the point that it's almost a shame he's prompting Myr to pay closer attention to him. Still, preventing Linden from dying in a ditch was a net positive, he just had to focus on the long game.

He taps his fingers lightly along Linden's back, the points of his claws barely pressing harmlessly into his filthy shirt.]

If you say so Linden.

[His tone is sing song, mocking. Linden can say whatever he wants, but no amount of rationalization or deflecting could change just how embarrassing this must be for him, or how smug and triumphant it makes Niles feel.]

[hearthebell]

[L's standards for being embarrassed are admittedly very different from most people's, largely because he cares what so few people think of him.

But he cares what Myr thinks of him, and therein lies the issue.]

And yet, you're still walking, and haven't dropped me.

[cyclopticsadist]

I still have a destination. And if I dropped you you'd probably break something, which I'm sure I would be blamed for.

[Contrary to his words, he does stop though. There's some shifting, his tail twitches, and then he speaks again, but this time not to Linden at all. He's talking over his communicator now. Time to call his bluff.]

Myr? It's Niles. If I woke you I apologize, but it's somewhat urgent. I have something of yours to deliver, where should I bring it?

[He did of course already know where Myr lived, (it's where he'd been heading), but Myr didn't know that. Besides, there's no guarantee that Myr spends all his nights there. He might have other bonds, or be fond of roaming. Checking his location was a sensible move, and an opportunity to call Linden's bluff at the same time.]

[faithlikeaseed]

[Myr wasn't, as it happened, asleep, though he'd been damn near to dozing off in his own garden when Niles called. Needless to say that's snapped him quite awake, though he's a moment in replying,]

Serah Niles? What-- [And a moment more to catch up with what that something of his might be, as he does a rapid mental inventory of what he owned that was identifiably his and also lost--

Oh. Oh, Maker, no.

Sudden, anguished,] What have you done to him?

[cyclopticsadist]

[Niles gives a short but theatrical sigh.]

Absolutely nothing. He is, by his own admission 'a little annoyed' and nothing more.

[Niles holds his arm behind his back now so that the microphone can pick up Linden's answer. This of course puts it in range of Linden's hands as well, but if he makes a grab at it, Niles bats his arm away with his tail. It may not be prehensile, but it's still highly mobile and very muscular.]

Isn't that what you said Linden?

[hearthebell]

[L absolutely does take a swipe at the communicator the moment he believes it's in arm's reach. No luck, there; his thin forearm is swatted away without regard or ceremony.]

He's playing a stupid game, and I'm not in any immediate danger. Please don't feel like you need to engage him, I'm sure he'll get bored soon enough.

[Wishful thinking. L can't be boring if he tries.]

[faithlikeaseed]

[Well. That, and hearing L's voice--and a belated touch to their Bond--certainly easies the icy lance of fear through Myr's heart. Leaves a quiet kind of helpless anger smoldering in its place--at Niles, at himself--but Maker willing, none of that's obvious in his voice when he responds,]

I'm at home, if your aim's to bring him to me. [If he weren't half-groggy from near-sleep, still, he might...find a way to salvage this; he suspects (and hates) Niles' aim with this demonstration.

(It's distressing to him how much he hates it.)]

[cyclopticsadist]

Good. We'll see you soon.

[He hangs up and resumes walking with a definite spring in his step. His tail flicks again in satisfaction...and hits Linden in the face. Luckily not with the armored stinger, but rather the thick dense wall of fur. It was an honest accident, and only happens the once, as he lowers it right afterwards. It continues to flick side to side, but now back near ground level, no longer a potential suffocation threat.]