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xp_logsJay and Jono awaken to find themselves not in Ireland anymore. Jono is quick to lay down ground rules and work to negotiate passage.
“Boy. Are you human?”
Waking up with one’s hands and feet tied was rarely a good sign. The presence of half a dozen humanoids of varying sizes, most of whom were currently engaged in discussion about you specifically, was even less encouraging.
One such stranger was now addressing Jono. It was no more than three feet high, green clad, and wore a cap the color of drying blood.
Jono made eye contact with the creature. He thought for a moment. Manx folklore was different from Irish, he wasn't quite as familiar- but it was still a Gaelic culture, and thus likely shared an Otherworld. He hoped they shared an Otherworld. "We aren't Milesians, if that's what you're asking. I can't speak for my companion, but I myself am not alive in the human sense." He pulled down the scarf some, revealing the fire within. "Hard to be human when you're a living flame."
"This one speaks through a maw of smokeless fire, but what manner of creature is its companion?" This was a new speaker: much taller than his fellows, and the most richly dressed. Its beautiful face was spoiled by the casual cruelty of aristocracy; no words that emerged from its lips could be anything but a sneer. Its attention was fixed on Jay.
There was a flicker at its back. Insectile wings, glazed with rainbows of refracted light, were moving slowly.
"Speak," it commanded, "you, who would ape the wings of your betters."
Jay gave a sideways glance to Jono. Did he truly not believe he was alive or was he just sayin' that appeal to whatever these beings were? Spook-ums maybe, or devils. He didn't know how to deal with them, but he'd best speak well he had to figure.
The feathers on Jay's wings ruffled, him trying unconsciously to make himself bigger. He weren't supposed to say his name, he was pretty sure. He met the creature's eyes as well, following Jono's lead. And Jono's lead was denying his humanity.
"I'm a mutant, the term is. My wings come natural to me."
"Mutant," repeated the tallest one. While clearly unfamiliar with the word, he still uttered it in the same tone one might say "head lice".
The first speaker shook his head. "If they are not human, what use are they to Ourselves? Shall we make sport of them?"
“We’re musicians.” Jono said automatically. “Talented ones. My sincerest apologies to your graces but we are unprepared to entertain you, our instruments are at home.”
"There was song in the fog," put forth a man who would have looked perfectly ordinary but for the pair of horse's ears protruding from beneath his cap. There was murmured agreement from the others, but his two fellows seemed unconvinced.
"Ah, so?" The leading fae caressed the crown of a dappled hound with too-human eyes and smiled.
"Sing, then, musicians. Sing for your lives."
Jay caught the eyes of the hound and wondered if it had once been a man. He had a feeling that maybe it was a fate worse than death if they didn't convince these creatures of their musicianship.
And even if it was just death, he couldn't condemn Jono to that even if he wouldn't mind it for himself.
So he started a song he was sure Jono knew too, singing in two voices. He sang with his own and duetted himself with his best impression of what Jono's sounded like in his head. He didn't dare close his eyes but the while he sang he prayed for protection and the best success of his life.
Jono joined in, projecting his voice to the party before them. In many ways this was easier than actually singing, he didn’t have to worry about accidentally being off-key, but it was also a lot of concentration, and he had plenty of reasons to lose it as the dogs snarled at them.
As he sang the flames from his face flickered in time to the music, dancing along to the beat and the emotion in the song. When it ended he lowered his head to the fae party, bowing slightly as if to thank them for allowing him to sing for his life. He hoped Jay would follow suit.
Jay saw Jono's little bow and did the same
After all, this was Jono's holler, so to speak. He'd follow his lead.
All eyes were upon them. The faerie steeds had ceased their stamping, while the pack of many-colored hounds were staring at the two with pricked ears and lowered tails. The fae leader's face was blank. Some intangible quality about him had changed. The cruel, hungry look had left his eyes; in its place was what in a lesser being might have been called awe.
More, he and the other fae seemed . . . different. More alive. It was like coming upon an imperceptibly wilting plant after it had finally been watered.
"We shall conference," said the smaller one, breaking the silence. The tallest one's wings flicked as if he'd been startled awake, and he turned on his heel towards his fellows to decide their fate.
The dogs continued to watch, silent.
Jay looked at Jono and then back at the beings before them. It seemed to him that maybe, for the time being, their skins were saved.
"Their kind are fond of artists." Jono thought to Jay, pulling up his scarf so he could stand closer to the other man. "It's possible that they'll decide to bring us back to their home base, likely some sort of castle, the area might have jewels for dirt and trees of silver and gold or some shite like that, descriptions vary. The important thing is that we keep them appeased, don't ask anything of them, and don't thank them if they do something kind. They tend to think of that as rude, like we're saying that them being kind is something out of the ordinary that needs attention.....There's a lot of rules, and they aren't spoken, and they're different on a locational basis....I'm so fucking sorry, man."
"Do people get out?" Jay thought as loud as he could to Jono. He didn't really know this kind of deal. And as for unspoken rules well... The fae couldn't be worse than church ladies and his own culture back home. He could catch on quick.
But he didn't want to be trapped here. He watched the multicolor hounds carefully, shifting his feathers uncomfortably.
Jono’s mind was filled with stories of people who got out only to crumble to dust upon returning to their world. Of how an instant in the Otherworld could be a millennia back home. Of artists lost to time whose song could only be heard echoing in the fairy circles under the full moon.
“Sometimes.” He said quietly. “If we play our cards right we might be able to. I think something’s wrong with them……we might be able to bargain if we can figure out what it is.”
"Mutants."
It was the winged fae again. His face was solemn. If such a thing were possible, one might have almost believed there was a trace of humility in his bearing.
"Your kind are unknown to us," he continued, "and so we acted in haste. You have proven yourselves to be of worth greater than mere sport. It would honor us to conduct you to the court of our Lady so that you might share with her your talents. An it please her, your reward shall be generous."
“That is a great honour.” Jono said, bowing some again. “Your realm is beautiful. It would be an honour to see more of it and to learn its history. I am sure our travels will be illuminating.”
Vague statements, no demands, thanking without saying thank you. If he had to start speaking in rhymes next he’d shoot himself.
"Do you ride?" asked the horse-eared man. In his hands he held the reins of two wild-eyed horses, their every step ringing with the silver bells that strung their livery. Like the hounds, they seemed just slightly off. Even in the absence of a storm their manes dripped with water.
Jay knew how to ride, but these wild-eyed, wild-colored horses and their rolling eyes and wet flanks seemed above his ability. Well. He doubted a refusal would be good and worst came to worst he could fly. "I can, th--" He remembered Jono's warning about thanks and changed his words. "That's mighty kind of you." He hoped that wasn't considered a thank you.
That was a Kelpie. A. Fucking. Kelpie. They were so fucked. So incredibly fucked.
“I have never ridden but I am sure that I can acclimate well enough.” He was not sure. He thought he was going to die. But he was a performer, and the show had to go on if they wanted out of here.
"They will follow the rest. They do not abide direction by mortal hands. Put no pressure on the bit, nor spur to their flanks." Whatever influence their music may have given them, a fae's fundamental nature could not be changed. The horse-eared man's placid face suddenly creased in a cold smile. "Particularly near beck and burn."
Jay looked to Jono again and then back at the horses who were so wild-eyed you could only see the whites of them. "I'll bear that in mind," Jay said to the fae with a polite nod and moved to mount the beast.
"Of course." Jono replied, trying not to sound strained as he took a step towards the fucking Kelpie. "The last thing we'd want to do is be disrespectful."
“Boy. Are you human?”
Waking up with one’s hands and feet tied was rarely a good sign. The presence of half a dozen humanoids of varying sizes, most of whom were currently engaged in discussion about you specifically, was even less encouraging.
One such stranger was now addressing Jono. It was no more than three feet high, green clad, and wore a cap the color of drying blood.
Jono made eye contact with the creature. He thought for a moment. Manx folklore was different from Irish, he wasn't quite as familiar- but it was still a Gaelic culture, and thus likely shared an Otherworld. He hoped they shared an Otherworld. "We aren't Milesians, if that's what you're asking. I can't speak for my companion, but I myself am not alive in the human sense." He pulled down the scarf some, revealing the fire within. "Hard to be human when you're a living flame."
"This one speaks through a maw of smokeless fire, but what manner of creature is its companion?" This was a new speaker: much taller than his fellows, and the most richly dressed. Its beautiful face was spoiled by the casual cruelty of aristocracy; no words that emerged from its lips could be anything but a sneer. Its attention was fixed on Jay.
There was a flicker at its back. Insectile wings, glazed with rainbows of refracted light, were moving slowly.
"Speak," it commanded, "you, who would ape the wings of your betters."
Jay gave a sideways glance to Jono. Did he truly not believe he was alive or was he just sayin' that appeal to whatever these beings were? Spook-ums maybe, or devils. He didn't know how to deal with them, but he'd best speak well he had to figure.
The feathers on Jay's wings ruffled, him trying unconsciously to make himself bigger. He weren't supposed to say his name, he was pretty sure. He met the creature's eyes as well, following Jono's lead. And Jono's lead was denying his humanity.
"I'm a mutant, the term is. My wings come natural to me."
"Mutant," repeated the tallest one. While clearly unfamiliar with the word, he still uttered it in the same tone one might say "head lice".
The first speaker shook his head. "If they are not human, what use are they to Ourselves? Shall we make sport of them?"
“We’re musicians.” Jono said automatically. “Talented ones. My sincerest apologies to your graces but we are unprepared to entertain you, our instruments are at home.”
"There was song in the fog," put forth a man who would have looked perfectly ordinary but for the pair of horse's ears protruding from beneath his cap. There was murmured agreement from the others, but his two fellows seemed unconvinced.
"Ah, so?" The leading fae caressed the crown of a dappled hound with too-human eyes and smiled.
"Sing, then, musicians. Sing for your lives."
Jay caught the eyes of the hound and wondered if it had once been a man. He had a feeling that maybe it was a fate worse than death if they didn't convince these creatures of their musicianship.
And even if it was just death, he couldn't condemn Jono to that even if he wouldn't mind it for himself.
So he started a song he was sure Jono knew too, singing in two voices. He sang with his own and duetted himself with his best impression of what Jono's sounded like in his head. He didn't dare close his eyes but the while he sang he prayed for protection and the best success of his life.
Jono joined in, projecting his voice to the party before them. In many ways this was easier than actually singing, he didn’t have to worry about accidentally being off-key, but it was also a lot of concentration, and he had plenty of reasons to lose it as the dogs snarled at them.
As he sang the flames from his face flickered in time to the music, dancing along to the beat and the emotion in the song. When it ended he lowered his head to the fae party, bowing slightly as if to thank them for allowing him to sing for his life. He hoped Jay would follow suit.
Jay saw Jono's little bow and did the same
After all, this was Jono's holler, so to speak. He'd follow his lead.
All eyes were upon them. The faerie steeds had ceased their stamping, while the pack of many-colored hounds were staring at the two with pricked ears and lowered tails. The fae leader's face was blank. Some intangible quality about him had changed. The cruel, hungry look had left his eyes; in its place was what in a lesser being might have been called awe.
More, he and the other fae seemed . . . different. More alive. It was like coming upon an imperceptibly wilting plant after it had finally been watered.
"We shall conference," said the smaller one, breaking the silence. The tallest one's wings flicked as if he'd been startled awake, and he turned on his heel towards his fellows to decide their fate.
The dogs continued to watch, silent.
Jay looked at Jono and then back at the beings before them. It seemed to him that maybe, for the time being, their skins were saved.
"Their kind are fond of artists." Jono thought to Jay, pulling up his scarf so he could stand closer to the other man. "It's possible that they'll decide to bring us back to their home base, likely some sort of castle, the area might have jewels for dirt and trees of silver and gold or some shite like that, descriptions vary. The important thing is that we keep them appeased, don't ask anything of them, and don't thank them if they do something kind. They tend to think of that as rude, like we're saying that them being kind is something out of the ordinary that needs attention.....There's a lot of rules, and they aren't spoken, and they're different on a locational basis....I'm so fucking sorry, man."
"Do people get out?" Jay thought as loud as he could to Jono. He didn't really know this kind of deal. And as for unspoken rules well... The fae couldn't be worse than church ladies and his own culture back home. He could catch on quick.
But he didn't want to be trapped here. He watched the multicolor hounds carefully, shifting his feathers uncomfortably.
Jono’s mind was filled with stories of people who got out only to crumble to dust upon returning to their world. Of how an instant in the Otherworld could be a millennia back home. Of artists lost to time whose song could only be heard echoing in the fairy circles under the full moon.
“Sometimes.” He said quietly. “If we play our cards right we might be able to. I think something’s wrong with them……we might be able to bargain if we can figure out what it is.”
"Mutants."
It was the winged fae again. His face was solemn. If such a thing were possible, one might have almost believed there was a trace of humility in his bearing.
"Your kind are unknown to us," he continued, "and so we acted in haste. You have proven yourselves to be of worth greater than mere sport. It would honor us to conduct you to the court of our Lady so that you might share with her your talents. An it please her, your reward shall be generous."
“That is a great honour.” Jono said, bowing some again. “Your realm is beautiful. It would be an honour to see more of it and to learn its history. I am sure our travels will be illuminating.”
Vague statements, no demands, thanking without saying thank you. If he had to start speaking in rhymes next he’d shoot himself.
"Do you ride?" asked the horse-eared man. In his hands he held the reins of two wild-eyed horses, their every step ringing with the silver bells that strung their livery. Like the hounds, they seemed just slightly off. Even in the absence of a storm their manes dripped with water.
Jay knew how to ride, but these wild-eyed, wild-colored horses and their rolling eyes and wet flanks seemed above his ability. Well. He doubted a refusal would be good and worst came to worst he could fly. "I can, th--" He remembered Jono's warning about thanks and changed his words. "That's mighty kind of you." He hoped that wasn't considered a thank you.
That was a Kelpie. A. Fucking. Kelpie. They were so fucked. So incredibly fucked.
“I have never ridden but I am sure that I can acclimate well enough.” He was not sure. He thought he was going to die. But he was a performer, and the show had to go on if they wanted out of here.
"They will follow the rest. They do not abide direction by mortal hands. Put no pressure on the bit, nor spur to their flanks." Whatever influence their music may have given them, a fae's fundamental nature could not be changed. The horse-eared man's placid face suddenly creased in a cold smile. "Particularly near beck and burn."
Jay looked to Jono again and then back at the horses who were so wild-eyed you could only see the whites of them. "I'll bear that in mind," Jay said to the fae with a polite nod and moved to mount the beast.
"Of course." Jono replied, trying not to sound strained as he took a step towards the fucking Kelpie. "The last thing we'd want to do is be disrespectful."
