Editing RY 766, 10th of Resplendent Fire: Call Me, Beep Me


It's been a long, long day, with the Circle split up all over Lookshy pursuing their private agendas. But at long last, the day is ending, and the evening finds Mari and Shrike bobbing easily among the suds of the golden bathrub that the Solar's bought off a desperate prince trying to liquidate his assets in the marketplace.

Nee-san's embrace is a familiar and welcome shelter for Mari, who's playing with the squeaky bath toys that came with the tub. 

"Hey, Nee-san," Mari says as Squeaky Duck battles Courage Frog amidst the foamy tides raging above Mari's abdomen. "Nee-san can summon demons like Chikkritikk and Chikktikka, right? Could... Nee-san help me summon another demon? A neomah?"

Shrike splashes a little with surprise. "I suppose that won't be much trouble, but why? Are you getting bored with Nee-san?" 

Still, the thought of it intrigued her. She had dealings with the flesh-crafters before, for business and pleasure both, and they had never proven unsatisfactory in either regard. In fact, a neomah's protean flesh might be just what Shrike has been needing recently: her night with the Sidereal, while sweet, lacked something in the raw urgency she occasionally found herself craving, and she still felt uncharacteristically nervous about the prospect of approaching Killing Frost as a lover.

"Nyooo, of course not," Mari says, abandoning the feuding toys and turning over so she's face to face with the Quicksilver Falcon. "But... you see... Mari... well, Mari went to Malfeas with a token that my friend Coral gave me, to rescue a goddess called Blossom. But when Mari came back, Mari had to leave a friend called Rina behind. Rina was a nice neomah lady; she helped me through the streets of Hell and even helped me find the person I was supposed to rescue," she giggles.

"Also, Blossom is the goddess of Solars and Lunars getting together. Mari was wondering if you and Frost might... you know... unite in front of the people, so it would feed her domain. Or something. Coral used to be the goddess of Exalts loving demons, but if A Friend's plan works out, she'll become the goddess of Returning Lawgivers! That's good, right?"

Mari burbles happily for a bit before she remembers what she was going to say.

"Urm. Anyway. So. Rina's a little ditzy, and she's a bit shy... but she's cute, and she's nice, and I'm really scared she'll get hurt in Malfeas. Couldn't you, you know, summon her, and make her your maid or something?"

"Hmm," Shrike says as she cradles Mari in her arms. "I think something can be arranged.

==

Sunset sees the Solar sorceress soaked with sweat as she labours on the arrangements for the summoning. While she knows on some level that with her mastery of Essence, such elaborate arrangements are unnecessary, this is the method she first learnt sorcery, and applying it consistently to every summoning gives her a sense of continuity and comfort. And comfort, she knows, is of vital importance.

"Mari, please stop trying to inhale the incense; it's not narcotic, and we'll need to keep some for the actual ritual," Shrike calls. The girl looks up guiltily from the brazier at one end of the summoning circle, and reluctantly scatters the remnants of the pinch of incense she was about to burn into the sandalwood box. 

Shrike dusts chalk off her own hands and looks about in satisfaction. The circle, which began as a simple geometric shape, has quickly become excessively complicated, with Old Realm scrawls denoting Solar, Lunar, and Sidereal constellation alignments, the current season, their approximate location relative to Mount Meru, and the genealogy of the demon they intend to summon, starting with the Third Circle soul and working downwards. At each of the five directions stands a receptacle: a brazier of coals to the South, from which incense drifts in wisps of aromatic perfume; a bowl of seawater in the West; a small bonsai plant, appropriated from the inn's gardens, to the East; and finally, the open window and its breeze to the North. In the exact centre of the circle is a mound of humble earth, surmounted by a plain grey pebble.  Mari recognizes some of the constellations that Shrike's traced into the pattern - the Captain, to speed Rina's path through the Endless Desert and to establish her dominance over her, the Lovers, for the neomah's sexual nature and her submission to Shrike's all-commanding will, the Gauntlet, for pre-emptive punishment lest Shrike's called slave dares defy her, the Sorcerer, for its command over Essence and the beckoning of demons, and the Rising Smoke, to signify the end of her attachment to Malfeas and new employment under Shrike.

Meanwhile, Mari has chosen a seat nearby, watching keenly. A sorceress in her own right, Mari has never mastered the patience to learn ritual magics, and always takes an interest in her Nee-san's summoning rituals. While she's been doing her best to stay still and behave while Nee-san sets up the elaborate summoning circle, her best is still... rather rambunctious, of course, as evidenced by Shrike lecturing her for trying to huff the ceremonial incense. Mari spends the next half hour quietly sneezing and trying to stifle her nasal expectorations, with some small degree of success.

Glancing out the window, Shrike notes the thin sliver of Sol's sinking light, and gives herself a moment to moisten her parched lips and throat with a sip of water -- no wine, at such a delicate juncture -- before continuing with the preparations. She douses all sources of artificial light in the room, so as not to offend the Ebon Dragon. A glitter of mica fills the air as Shrike casts a handful of sand into the circle, to make way for Cecylene. With decisive movements, she strips off the bells braided into her hair and adorning her wrists and ankles, so as not to invite the wrath of Adorjan. 

Finally, she slips into her sorcerer's robe of white silk, stiffened with lace stitched into eldritch patterns of dominance and mastery, each glyph proclaiming her right to command the power of the Primordials and their children stitched in orichalcum wire. And then she begins.

The chant that spills forth from her lips is in Old Realm, the language of sorcery, and the harsh, ancient sounds scorch her throat and tongue as they spill out into the gathering dusk. She keeps time with herself with the rhythmic drumming of one foot on the bare wooden floor. Her round arms arc above her head in a posture of evocation, as she begins the long recitation of the fragment of the Yozis' surrender oaths that empower sorcerers to call upon their component souls. 

It is only a matter of time before Shrike lapses into a trance, lulled by the sound of her own voice and by the cloying fragrance of the incense. Her eyelids droop, her head droops, but her arms remain raised in that gesture of welcome, entreaty, and command. The rise and fall of her voice dulls to a droning buzz. 

Without having to look out the window at the risen moon, Shrike knows when the moment has arrived -- her anima is blazing with the Essence she is bleeding into the spell. Unlike using one of her native Charms, those powers that spill organically from her soul, an expression of selfhood, sorcery is a laborious, alien process that torturously traces in microcosm the processes by which the Primordials laid down the working of the Loom and of Creation itself. Instead of shoving motes into those familiar Essence constructs, she bleeds them out, one at a time, a trickle of power that feeds through the web of meaning she has constructed with symbol and sound, a regular flow like the infinitesimal drip of water that turns a prayer wheel.

She claps her hand at the moment of midnight, feeling mighty forces swing into alignment, twisting around and over themselves, clicking into place like tumblers in a lock. There is a flare of green light, pulsing in the middle of the circle, and a breath of dry, scorching wind carrying the tang of brass and sour vitriol. Silver sand spills across the floorboards, rushing outwards and then pressing against the edges of the circle, resentful at the artificial imposition of limits on its otherwise endless expansion. 

"Destorinaxirasis!" she cries, the name hard-won from Mari's fragmentary memory and tripping tongue. "Destorinaxirasis! [B]Destorinaxirasis![/B]"

There is a presence in the middle of the circle, genuflecting on a carpet of Cecylenian sand, a nearly nude humanoid with lush curves and lavender skin covered with a multitude of tattoos and piercings of bone and brass. It raises a hairless head to stare into Shrike's eyes with its pupilless dark orbs, a hissing trace of laughter escapes its full lips. It can plainly see the mark of Shrike's exaltation blazing on her forehead, but the challenge is a formality that the neomah undertakes with zest. 

To no avail. The power that Shrike has poured into the spell soon compel it to quiescence, and it regards her without rancour. 

"And what would you of me, mistress?"

"Rina?" Mari ventures, and then she sees the familiar purple bald head, the only bald head which does not inspire a reaction of brutal violence from her. Fortunately for all parties concerned, Rina's will bends swiftly to Shrike's and the demoness bows her head to her new master.

"Nee-san," Mari says. "I think that's Rina, but she's... well, she's different from when I met her in Malfeas..."

And then, the neomah realizes that she's not alone in the room.

"Mari?" she begins, and then a smile spreads across her face. "Mari!" 

Rina holds her arms out to walk toward the girl... and bounces off the central barrier surrounding the core of the diagram, reinforced by the endless power of Earth. 

"Owie," she winces, rubbing her head. "Oooh, ouchie... Mari, is she your Nee-san?" Rina asks, pointing to Shrike. It seems she's forgotten the enforced formality of the spell the moment she laid eyes on the little Solar.

"Yep yep," Mari nods eagerly. "That's Nee-san! She's awesome! And... probably your mistress now, right?"

"Mmmmmhm," Rina nods. "She's really pretty, though. So it's not too bad, even if she does torture me and stuff... a lot of my previous masters used to do that."

She shivers a little, and Mari notices for the first time that some of the intricate patterns on her flanks and her back are not actually body art after all.

"Erm. Well, er... forgive my impudence, mistress," Rina says, assuming the proper position of genuflection before Shrike, her Exalted dominatrix. "How may this one serve you?"

Shrike watches the interaction between the demon and the girl, bemused, as she shrugs out of her robes, soaked linen underthings and slips into a more comfortable tunic of plain cotton that she belts at the waist. 

As the neomah acknowledges her as her new mistress, Shrike scuffs the edge of the chalk circle with a bare foot, and reaches down to the neomah, who stands, surprised. Enjoying the slightly campy pomp of the moment, the Solar walks in a slow circle around the demon, admiring her from every angle, as a prospective buyer would. For her part, the neomah is familiar with this examination, and poses to her best advantage, even as her skin goes through a series of chromatic adjustments, showing off her versatility. 

Finally, Shrike comes to a stop before the demon, and without speaking seizes her by the jaw and jams the surprised neomah's lips against her own. The inside of Rina's mouth tastes like the Cecylenian air the creature has been inhaling for the past five days of subjective time, and Shrike drags the tip of her tongue across the demon's pointed teeth. She wrenches the demon free with the same vehemence. 

"You'll do." The Eclipse is breathing a little heavier, and not because of the effort of the summoning. "For perpetuity, I bind you to fulfill the task of being my maidservant. I trust you will find it well within your abilities. You have my permission to take what flesh you may get in reasonable exchange with anyone you have congress with, besides myself and Mari. You are to wear a human shape at all times. That, and this." Shrike produces a stark black outfit, accented at the cuffs, hem, and collar with ruffs of white lace: the standard attire for maidservants in the latest fashion from the Blessed Isle. "But not now." The clothes end up on the floor, where the last of the Cecylenian sand is beginning to dissipate grudgingly. 

"For now..." Veil-Winged Shrike gestures, and the ethereal image of Killing Frost, tall, powerful, rakishly handsome, appears beside her, limned in golden light. "Take his shape."

Rina does, and then the scene fades to black...

==

''Several hours of rambunctious cuddling later...''

"So how are things with you and Lucien?" Mari says from the middle of the three-girl pile on the queen-sized bed. She's already filled Shrike in on Rina's link to the Guardian of Sleep - namely, that Rina had been a fangirl of his, and Mari had given the two of them a brief push together into the same bed, which resulted in the normally businesslike citizen showing a rather tender response to the neomah, who would normally have been beneath him as a serf.

"Oh, well, I... um... I felt the summons right after you left, and... well, it was for official business, so he let me go. I think he's still hunting people back in Malfeas... I was really scared when I made the journey, but I'm glad I ended up in Mistress' service." 

Rina cuddles up to Shrike, briefly reshaping her arm to resemble the strong, comforting bicep of Frost. 

"Mistress is a nice person, like Mari," she smiles. 

"Isn't she?" the little Solar smiles. "Nee-san, you said Rina would be your maid, right? Does that mean she gets a special uniform and stuff? And... I know Rina's your pet, but I had a silly idea - maybe she could look like a person, and then be an actual maid here at the inn! I mean, we pretty much own this place anyway, right?"

Shrike purses her lips before answering.

"While I do intend for Rina to look like a human as much as possible, I'm not sure about turning her over to the inn." Shrike shifts herself slightly. "Not only do I hate sharing, I'm sure the innfolk will realise something's a little... unusual. And I actually have been considering buying this place over... even if we shift bases, the innkeeper's a canny sort, and I'm sure the profits from rents will make up for the purchase in no time, so it'll be a worthwhile investment. I might even wrest that recipe for those steamed pork dumplings from his wife. 

"Rina can be my handmaid instead, like a noblewoman's chambermaid. We're technically metics, so that should be all right, since unlike the helots we're allowed to keep any servants we bring in with us. That way she can stay with us instead of having to run around working with the rest of the inn staff." The Solar's long, strong finger traces the line of Rina's jaw, that briefly reshapes itself under her touch to resemble stubbled skin. "After all, our needs are... unique."

Mari beams at the suggestion. 

"That's great too!' she says, hugging the neomah and her Nee-san. "I was... I was just worried she'd get bullied back in Malfeas. I mean... it's a really scary city for people like her if they don't have the right protectors. I figured that... well, Nee-san's good at making people her pets, but she treats her pets nicely, and since Mari's going to be gone for a bit..."

Mari's voice trails off as she ponders how best to explain her journey to Shrike.

"Well. When, er, you went to meet Ash in the helot's district, I found that other Solar we rescued from the riverboat with Wrath in there as well. His name is Seven, and he's got that half-circle Caste Mark thing," she says, pointing to Shrike's ringed circle.

"Anyway, he was treating some of the sick people, but I dragged him with me to the caves of magic, to meet a man who was half metal. His name's Kraik, though, and he says he's the headmaster of the Academy of Sorcery. Anyway, I wanted Seven to look at Mr. Kraik because he said he had some kind of illness that made his body rot away. And Seven helped a little, which was good. Then I had a dream last night, and I dreamt I saw a silver egg, with treasure inside. It looked kind of magicky, so I went to the magic caves again with Seven, and this time I looked through the books there. Aaaand... I found a really old map and a book which said there was a magic silver egg in a mountain Manse to the North, though it was apparently really dangerous to go there and stuff... And I figured I shouldn't bother Nee-san because it was dangerous and stuff. So this sort of means I'll be gone for a week. But I'll come back!" Mari smiles. "I always come back, like that time we got split up by the baldies."

A frown grows on the Quicksilver Falcon's face as she considers Mari's words. The girl reminding Shrike of the Abyssal is troubling; news that she intends to make a solo expedition troubles her even more. "About 'Ash'... did you sense anything... odd about him? Besides the fact that he lives in a room full of corpses. I can't read people as well as you can, and for once I may have run up against someone who's as good as I am at this conversational murder thing. I couldn't get a single peep of useful information out of him." 

""Hmm... welp, Ash seems kind of sad to me. He lives in a crappy place and has to do horrible things to live and stuff. I mean, it doesn't make what he does [I]right[/I], but it does explain why he does it. I was kinda mad when I saw all those bodies in front of his place, but, well, beating him up wouldn't have brought them back, and stuff. He seems to be really into all that Death and Oblivion stuff, though. I guess he really buys into all of that..."

She broods for a while, considering Mari's answer, before she voices her next concern. 

"I'm worried about the city, Mari. The Mask of Winters coming would be bad enough, but the Lover? There's never been a force like that ever assembled in Creation since the days of the Shogunate." 

"Mari's worried about Lookshy too. Mari likes Lookshy. Mari met a lot of nice people here, like Wrath, and Frost, and A Friend, and so on. Mari doesn't want Lookshy to be destroyed."

Shrike smiles thinly at this. Of course she would say that.

"So please come back soon, Mari." It breaks her heart just a little, but out of that rift comes a warm glow of... pride? Shrike smiles to herself and ruffles Mari's hair. "I'm worried about what might happen to me without Mari around to protect me. I'm sure your magic silver egg will be useful, though! Just... be careful, okay? Because Nee-san will go look for you if you're not back soon, even if it means letting Lookshy fall, and that would be bad, wouldn't it?"

"Mari misses Nee-san too. Mari will definitely come back for Nee-san and Rina and so on. It's just that... Mari's all curious about that magic egg and stuff. Maybe it has something which could help save Lookshy?" she wonders. 

While Shrike ponders Mari's answer, she looks down at Rina, who has assumed the form of a pretty but unassuming petite brunette and pillowed her head on Shrike's belly. 

Then she asks, "And how does a demon with Lucien's favour get bullied in Malfeas, anyway?"

"Nyo, Rina was just a normal neomah when Mari first met her. But then Rina took Mari to look for Lucien, and then they got close, and they slept together, I think."

Rina blushes at this, but her experience is a pleased one.

"They've only been together for a couple of days at most, though, and things like, oh, Erembour passing over the city and so on can still hurt her. Plus, I was worried some other powerful demon would bully her and stuff... I didn't want that. Not after what Rina did for me. You'll take care of her, right, Nee-san?"

"Of course I will," Shrike smiles. 

"And Rina, you have to take care of Nee-san too. She needs hugs to remind her that she's not alone and that people care for her. While I'm not around, you'll have to do it for me. I appoint you Deputy Hugging Specialist. Any objections?"

Rina shakes her head with a smile.

"Then go forth, Deputy Hugger, and be a good girl," Mari grins. "And... and..."

She yawns.

"Wow, I'm really tired. We haven't had a threesome in a long time..."

Mari's just barely finished saying that when she collapses onto the soft cushions next to Shrike, breathing softly into her Nee-san's ear. Shrike looks up to the cracked ceiling, then down to Rina and over to Mari. Maybe... maybe Lookshy's doom would come for them. But for now, she was warm and sated and comfortably numb, with her little sister and a pet curled up next to her.

And that was all that mattered.