taxonomites | [Visual] and [Location: Central] Here I am, an old man in a dry month

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[Visual] and [Location: Central] Here I am, an old man in a dry month

"Hello Taxon." A thing shaped like a man (a heavily-scarred man) is sitting at a cafe in Central, and he greets you all with a whisery hiss. The Sanctuary where everyone arrives is visible over his shoulder.

"The man in the moon, here. The Brucolac, for those who do not yet know me. I've been watching over you all, and have noticed a lot of scurrying about. This has lead me to wonder, to concern myself with you and your well-being. How are you? Are you lost? Adrift? Dissatisfied? Content? Successful? How goes the vampire situation?"

And yes, he delivers that last with a smile, just a small one, and a flicker of his forked tongue.

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A late reply is certainly within the bounds of things the Brucolac will forgive Godric. Especially as he seems to be doing something interesting!

"Hello! ...My dear Godric, you seem to have gone savage."

A smile. "It happens, on occasion. I wasn't born in a civilized time, and it's sometimes a comfort to return to my roots, so to speak."

"Your roots in the stars, how charming." Apparently there is some rule amongst the ab-dead that if you are not warring, you are flirting. All's fair either way?

"Godric, balm of my restless mind, do you know what is going on with this Angelus?"

Flirting is a nice change from all the worrying and swearing and demanding that has been going on around Godric lately.

"Angelus is a glitched version of a vampire otherwise known as Angel. Apparently his kind of vampire have a problem keeping their souls intact. Angelus is Angel without a soul, and therefore without a conscience. As far as I'm aware, he hasn't acted out yet, but one of the slayers, a girl named Faith, is intent on subduing him so they can reinsert his soul. I'm to act as backup in case it goes badly wrong."

The Brucolac makes this face for a little while, chewing on that.

"That is extremely fucking disturbing. There are people here who know soulcraefting?" That is a scary thought. Suddenly, 'up in a tree' seems like a very good place to be.

A grin, as if reading the Brucolac's mind: "You're welcome to join me up in my tree, if it pleases you."

A pause, and then, "The one who knows soulcraefting, as you call it, is a young girl named Dawn. I don't know the extent of her knowledge, but I know her. I trust her." High praise.

"Godric, you must not make me laugh while I am brooding, it is extremely disruptive. I will be there at once."

Once he figures out where you are. Intrusive taxon map, work your magic!

"I do apologize," he says unapologetically. And he waits patiently for the Brucolac's arrival. He's in the forest, which is thankfully not large enough to lose someone in, but large enough for Godric to get away a while.

"You know, I think we must call the others together," the Brucolac says as he approaches Godric's tree. He frowns at it and then leaps up to join the other vampire.

"A proper convocation, in my ship. Do you think it can be done? Do you think that if you put the word out, they will come?"

Godric shifts to make a welcoming space for the Brucolac.

"What would the purpose of such a gathering be? It could be done, but your ship may not be the best place for it. Not all of us can reach it."

The Brucolac perches, movements swift and precise. "I can bring it down, o Savage Lord, but I suppose you are right. And the purpose? Devil's tail, Godric, one of us is being hunted, may be completely soulless! When else should we touch base with one another? If one of us can be hunted, any of us could be. I am laying seeds and spinning threads to begin a true society amongst the people of Taxon. If I am going to plan for the future, I must know how my kin stand."

His eyes are dark and glittering hard, building cities out of the trees and shadows.

"He is not the only one without a soul. Apparently it's the default state of the vampires of that particular world." In stark contrast, Godric's eyes are tired, old and weary of politics. "But you have a point. A proper gathering could accomplish much for everyone."

Edited 2010-02-25 06:30 (UTC)

"Common sense will do, if we are stingy on consciences." It isn't Godric's eyes that draw the Brucolac's attention, but his voice. Following one to another, he stills, and comes back to the branch, and to his companion.

"What do you fear, my friend? There are such shadows in your eyes."

"I'm merely weary of this sort of conflict. I have lived too long and seen too little change. I have learned there is no easy solution. But I'm willing to do what's necessary to keep a peaceful society." He has little choice. Taxon is his world now, like it or not, and as long as he's forced to stay, he can only do what he can to make it bearable.

"Ah, my friend, I am not weary, for I have seen this situation work. It needs a small, isolated population. It needs a people with a greater goal than mere day-to-day subsistence. It needs clever monsters who are patient and wise, or who can be convinced or controlled by the patient and wise, and it needs a little time for our purposeful changes to become accepted habit. All of this and more is sitting here, ready to be put in motion. I know this, and I will tell you how I know.

"Four hundred years ago, I sailed that fat empty ship to a floating city called Armada," the Uroc, of course: he points to it's glowing mass through the trees, "and I taught them to see me as more than a horrific creature, but to love me as a lord. I did not do this by running around making demands - outside of the initial insistence that they really did want to talk to me rather than keep trying to slice me up, a hurdle we thankfully do not have here - I did it by talking, and balancing each need against another, and following through with all my promises. A mere few years later and it was as if I'd always been there. I was the reliable one, the unchanging shepherd in an ever-changing sea. You can ask Uther Doul how well it works. Uther Doul, who comes from High Cromlech, where we are fucking beggars, the lowest of the low, crawling at the feet of the quick, and even he learned better in my city."

He leans closer, to murmur more softly. The last ghosts of his living voice still stir when he talks so, a sudden moment of normality. They could be two young men plotting to sneak into the bedroom of some beautiful girls, and not a pair of old corpses.

"I am not weary, Godric, because I know this can work. Do not let your shoulders fall, my friend. Keep them straight, keep your head high, and remember how much you have to offer these people. Our people, the humans, and everyone else. this city is one body, an infant only waking up. A child must be convinced to listen sometimes, but with patience, it will learn and grow into something great."

Edited 2010-02-26 06:01 (UTC)

Godric is captivated by the Brucolac's passion, by the change in his voice when he speaks. He feels as if he's been given a piece of the fascinating person before him, and seeks to return the favor.

"In my world, we are predators who have remained hidden from humans for millennia. Most of us see humans as food, as toys to play with when we please. We exceed their strength so significantly that we have long believed ourselves naturally superior.

"I was sheriff of my area for decades. In that time, the world changed significantly. We stopped living like animals, stealing people away into the woods at night. Instead, we integrated secretly into society, pretending to be human. Yet, for all our new closeness to them, our treatment of humans changed little. Even as we came out of hiding permanently and attempted to live as one with our living brethren, our view of them did not change. Human attitudes, likewise, remained hostile in return. It frustrated me, and wore me down."

He shifts as if trying to shrug an invisible weight off his shoulders, briefly looking vulnerable enough to be honestly mistaken for the teenager he looks like.

"Despite the small conflicts that have occurred here, the relationship between the dead and the living in Taxon seems blissfully easy in comparison. I fear that it will not last. But I also hope that you're right, that with a small population and clear goals, we can have a true society here." His lips twitch, and then he looks wry. "It's that hope that makes my fears all the more potent. I can only promise that I will endeavor to ignore them."

The Brucolac's head tilts, as he listens. He sees Godric trying, and failing, to overcome...how many centuries of disappointment? He cannot know. "Change is difficult. Our minds resist it, resist having to re-learn that which was known. We build our careful architectures of logic and memory, and shaking them is as violent as any earthquake."

"Ironic that this quality that we and the living share in equal measure should be the very thing that makes it so hard for us to stand together."

"Ironic, indeed. Especially considering that it is our ability to adapt that enables us all to survive, and to thrive." Godric had always been good at adapting; perhaps too good. His ability to find empathy for humanity when it became necessary to live alongside them made it inevitable that he feel guilt for his centuries of slaughter. Perhaps it was the other vampires who were wiser. Perhaps their continued contempt for humanity allowed them to stay sane while Godric crumbled.

"When would you like to have this council?" Back to the subject at hand.

Contempt knows no breed, nor does stupidity, but yes. On to practical matters.

"Quickly. Within the week." Wednesday evening?

"Very well. I'll track them all down and tell them. If they don't show, I'll fetch them." That's a very polite way of putting it. "Wednesday evening should be enough notice. Where? Will you bring down your ship?"

Godric kind of wants to see your ship, BB.

"Yes, though I suddenly regret that I won't have the opportunity to resist. This fetching sounds exciting." He is kidding. Mostly. There is a mostly-teasing curl to his lips.

"I will bring down my ship over the arrival building in Central - easy to get to, easy to see and be seen. Let's set midnight as the beginning of the meeting, to give you time to nick the reluctant and me time to set the table. One other trait we keep from our living pasts is the power of sharing hospitality and food." He sits thoughtfully for another moment.

"Security...ah, I do not want to look for trouble, but neither would I be naive. I will ask Uther Doul to walk the decks while we speak. Anyone else?"

It gets an amused smile in response. Really, how do you charm him so when he's in such a rotten mood? "If you regret it so deeply, I'll simply have to snatch you up unexpectedly one night. Feel free to resist as you please, but I'll be intent on bringing you somewhere interesting."

He may actually be perfectly serious, despite the teasing.

"I believe Uther Doul will be security enough. If anything goes badly wrong, I'm sure the lot of us can react accordingly." Assuming Godric didn't have his hands full subduing those of them who were intent on overreacting.

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[Visual] and [Location: Central] Here I am, an old man in a dry month

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