SwanTheTowerIndex SB: Swan: The Tower "The servants will bring whatever food you wish. If you wish something more exotic, Khalan will see to it. Tomorrow, we will see about getting you Ways of your own, begin your training in shapeshifting, and the rest of what you need to know to live here." "Any questions?" Swan shakes her head, “Nope. I think I’m easy green for now. Thanks for all your help today.” She glances over at Espérance and jerks a nod, “I’ll be around, if you need me.” She closes the door of her room behind her; eager to get into that huge bath. In short order, Swan can get into that bath. It is running water as she is familiar with it. No sign of water elementals or anything really out of the ordinary by her standards. Hot water, and plenty of it. Nothing so weird as the Ways of Huttner and Orcini's family, either. It's easy for Swan to close her eyes and let the steaming water wash her troubles and difficulties away. Dead easy... "Your altered Pattern makes you stand out, you know." comes a voice that causes her to open her eyes. A blond haired young man sits on one of the marble sinks in the large bathroom. Swan also sees that the entire room, everywhere she turns her head, has a slightly silvery-green cast to it now. Swan groans softly, sinking down into the tub. Although all nakkid and slippery, she only covers her face with a hand towel. “You’d better be here for my pedicure, goomba,” she mutters. “Otherwise, this is about to get ugly.” She wiggles her toes in the suds, trying to get some enjoyment out of them. One hour. Why can't i have just one flippin' hour? "I am sure, Swan, that you are going to have your pedicure and anything else the Chaosians are going to do for you when you wake up." he says with a grin. "And after being chased, shot at, hunted, and a lot worse in these visitations, if you want to take a pot shot at me with one of your pistols, feel free. I've seen it all by now from our crazy family." "I was actually paying a visit to the Emperor, when a strange and twisted dreamscape overlaid with a weird Pattern imprint lurked near his, relatively speaking." he says. "Can you blame me wanting to come look?" “And here I thought you just wanted to gander my nips,” Swan snorts. She sinks lower in the tub, but pulls the wet towel from her face. She gives him a sour look. “Yeah, I found me a Pattern to call my own. And before you think of trying to grift it from under me, I’ll give you the lowdown. You lack the prerequisite camel toe to walk it. Sorry, Charlie.” She shrugs, “So, why you bumping gums with our cuz, Cuz? With all Shadow to choose from, there’s gotta be a wet dream you could be nosing about in.” "I'm not that much of a voyeur, Swan." the man says. "No, I use onieromancy as a method of connecting and meeting relatives. I missed you on my first go around some days ago when I first sought to bump gums, as you put it, with my distant relations." "I'm Valerian, by the way. Descended through Oberon's sister Titania." "Actually, General Benedict and King Random have asked me to continue doing the social thing. Turns out General Benedict is planning a military response to the Omphalos incursion and has been sending notices of his campaign like a debutante sends out invitations to her coming out ball." "So, have you heard of the Omphalos, Swan?" “Plugged a few in my time, yeah,” Swan says. Valerian responds with a pleased smile. “Probably why Benny asked me to raise an army of killer tomatoes.” "Killer tomatoes?" Valerian says, pleasure giving way to puzzlement on his face. She stretches her legs to wash it, “Doesn’t mean I’m buddies with them. All I know is they can throw about a lotta lead and have questionable fashion sense. Beyond that, there’s just another pack of trigger boys.” "They do like their firearms, when and where they can use them." Valerian says thoughtfully. One eye watches the legs, the other is kept firmly on Swan. "I wasn't aware that you had received his invitation. Well, duplication of effort is better than none at all. You're not the easiest person to track down, after all." "Like your half-sister." Valerian says. "The two of you are more alike than most people might guess. What IS it with pretty trigger-happy cousins and their firearms, anyhow?" Swan narrows her eyes, sitting up in the tub. “First, you nose my business. And then you mention ~that~ tart in the same conversation? Boy, you really do like to roll the bones and hope for the best. That princess ain’t nothing like me. Mention her again, and you'll come up snake-eyes.” She stands up and gets out of the tub. Her body is stiff, angry, as she wraps it in a fluffy towel. “If you have something to say, spit it out. Otherwise, I think we’re done here.” Valerian regards Swan carefully. He steps back a pace, and then two more, his body language tight, closed, and cautious. "Then we are done." Valerian says. "See you at General Benedict's big blow, maybe." he adds with an inclination of the head. Not so silently and softly, but rather with the loud sound of a movie reel running to the end and flapping around the reel, Valerian disappears from sight, leaving Swan alone in her silvery green dream world. Swan snorts again, shaking off her anger. She heads for the bedroom to get some rest… if such a thing is even possible in a dream. Trying to go to sleep in the dream does, as it turns out, to be the key in getting out of the dream. Closing her eyes and willing away the cares of the world, or just antagonistic relations, Swan finds herself falling out of the dream and into sleep. Very deep sleep. Some no little time passes before a distant sound brings her to be roused. It is, as it turns out, a knocking on the outer door of the suite. It sounds tentative, hesitant, and its only Swan's very good senses that allowed her to hear it at all. Swan groans faintly, squirming unhappily in the bed. “Damnit all.” When she realizes the knock is probably important, she wraps herself in a sheet and head to the door. Cracking the door, she peers into the hall with a blurry eye. In the hall is a tall (tall enough that Swan has to look up) grey skinned being. Instead of hair on her, his, it's head, the being has white feathers. The jaw looks like a snake, distended, elongated. "My apologies, honored guest. I did not mean to disturb you." He(?) clears its throat and continues. "The Tanista's vassal has requested food be brought to her suite. I did not know if you knew how to summon food or other victuals if you wished to do so. I wished to ensure your hospitality by asking." Swan narrows her eyes, trying to decern if she’s still dreaming. . . or if she’s really talking to a plucked chicken-thingie. When the creature doesn’t fade away or transform into some saucy tomato, she ventures that she must be awake. She rubs her eyes, “Ugh, yeah. . . uh, no. Huh? I can order stuff here? Like room service or porn or something?” The demon blinks its eyes at Swan, for a moment, regarding her. "The instructions given were to see to your comforts." he says in a patient tone. "If you wish food or drink, then you merely only need ask." The demon pauses a moment. "Such requests extend beyond mere nourishment. If I understand your idiom correctly, honored guest, and you you wish the services of a neomah to satisfy or to ablate sexual urges, that certainly can and will be provided as part of that room service. Shall I summon one in addition to the food you desire?" Swan shakes her head, chuckling. “Nah. Just wanted to make sure what my options were. Not sure what a ‘neomah’ is, but from what I’ve seen around here I get the feeling all my hentai concerns would be answered.” She tightens her towel and walks back into the apartment, leaving the door open for him/it/whatever to follow. “I guess I could eat,” she says. “And a Coles note on Chaos, if you got one.” The creature steps inside of the door, closes it behind him, but does not go any further. "I can obtain food directly." the demon replies, bowing his head. "The Tanista was served a traditional House Helgram stew. I can obtain some for you. It may be less objectionable and more digestible than many Chaosian forms of cuisine. However, given the upbringing of the Emperor, the staff here is familiar with dishes more familiar to the Ordered side of reality." "And if I understand you properly, you wish a primer on etiquette and knowledge of the Courts?" he says. "Would you prefer a tutor as dinner companion or a written work? In Amberian Thari, perhaps?" Swan smiles, “Yeah, something I can eat with chop sticks and ain’t still moving would be rate.” "Chop sticks" The demon raises a hand and runs it through her fingers. "Ah, yes. Kuàizi! The Queen Mother uses those. Many of the dishes for Ordered tastes use bread or similar utensils." Swan grins brighter, “Well, bonus then.” She rummages through the selection of clothing provided her, finding them all too frilly and lacy for her taste. She picks out a skirt and blouse that she can work with. “Sure, if you got someone that can bump gums, I’m down. Can’t ask a book questions, right?” "Certain varieties of demon can be bound into a sentient book form." The Demon replies patiently. "Just as certain demons are used to bind ordinary volumes, and of course, some demons' blood is used as sources of ink." He pauses. "It is possible the chatelaine herself will wish to dine with you and take that role, if you answer questions in return. Is that acceptable?" Swan nods, “Does a bear use bunnies for TP? Yeah, I could rub shoulders with her ladyship. Fell free to give her a jingle.” "I shall return with food and a dining companion shortly, presumably the Chatelaine if she is willing." the demon says. He opens the door, and closes it, giving Swan about a quarter hour, as she reckons time, of quiet, peace, and privacy to change clothes and set to her liking. Backlinks |
