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Reality Fault

Through the Inferno, part II

Several minutes later, and perhaps unsurprisingly, Diana's happily trying to cajole Jason into showering with her. Curiously, she's not... 'turning on the charm' -- just holding his hand and trying to persuade him -- and sounding quite happy as she does so. Jason is reluctant at first, but what Mike told him had an effect. He doesn't want to hurt her -- doesn't want to ruin what's a special day for her. The fact that she does so just as a woman, and not as the seductive otherworldly beauty she is... well, that gets him off the fence. Though he blushes when he does it, he finally nods sheepishly.

The shower ends up being a very interesting mix of innocent exploration, sometimes embarrassment, and pleasure. Diana's fascinatedly curious reaction to Jason's body (wanting to examine him all over) has him wondering -- has she never actually seen a nude male before? She's also very touchy, running her hands over him as she explores, and obviously unashamed about her own body. It doesn't feel like she's eschewed shame, though, so much as it hasn't occurred to her one should feel ashamed of nudity -- she's as curiously puzzled by how he's put together physically as she is by his face flushing at her touch. And again, there's the interesting realization this is really Diana here, sans any otherworldly charm or pressure.

This is a very odd experience for Jason. He didn't know what to expect, though it makes sense to a certain extent: she feeds off desire. Sex doesn't even have to enter into it, and likely hasn't. He's also self-conscious right up till the point he realizes the fact that he's chunky in places doesn't seem to bother Diana in the slightest. After that it gets easier... a little. Trying to explain why it is certain body parts react the way they do to her touch is one of the more difficult (and amusing) conversations he's ever had. He touches her back some -- unable to completely hold back his own curiosity -- but generally stays away from her private parts...

If it was ever in question, Diana's reaction to showering with Jason shows him quite clearly desire is not irrevocably tied to sex. Any seductiveness or desire he's feeling is coming straight from the simple pleasure of her company -- even though he does occasionally have to pause and catch his breath when she touches places he's not expecting. She doesn't seem to mind being touched at all, though, and will occasionally giggle and hug him when he's tentative.

In the shower Diana's usually fluffy hair flattens down very sleekly while wet -- which makes her horns easier to see. They're a darker red than her skin: blood-red, with a faint twist to them -- much smaller versions of Beatrice's large, curling horns. Her gleaming lips are the same rich color as her horns, and her golden eyes are bright, almost glowing with enjoyment.

Jason chuckles ruefully, enjoying himself in spite of his embarrassment every time she's pressed her body against his. Even without her succubus pheromones, or whatever they are, feeling her moist flesh pressing against his is very compelling, and he gets a little bolder with his caress. Upon noticing her horns, however, he finds himself interested in them, and tentatively slides a hand up, running his fingers over one, and around the base. "Do they... get bigger as you mature?"

Diana glances up, her lips parted in mid-thought and her eyes dancing, "What, the horns? Oh, yes... Mother's are more like how mine should end up, I think." She tilts her head so he can more easily reach (which isn't really hard considering she's a few inches shorter than he), and adds cheerfully, "I've been told hers look like bighorn sheep horns, although I've not yet seen one personally."

Jason smiles. "There's some resemblance, yes... though I doubt there's any relation," he replies, testing the point curiously, to see if it's sharp.

Diana blinks as Jason continues to run his fingers along her horns... then she leans against him with a small, happy purr, "Mmm, feels nice... nobody's ever done that before." The point is sharp the same way a dog's tooth would be sharp -- not razor edged, but if they were slashed with strength against someone they'd cut just fine. Curiously she asks, "Do bighorn sheep have little fangs too?"

Jason blinks. "Really? I wouldn't have thought..." He laughs at her query. "Er, no... they're herbivores. They don't have fangs. They also don't talk, and aren't near as pretty as you." Fingers from both hands slide along those curly protrusions now, amazed that these seemingly bone extensions might have nerve endings...

She giggles at his comment, hugging him, and adds, "What wouldn't you have thought? Mm, touch more around the base there, would you please?" She adds, "I know they don't have wings as well -- I asked!"

Jason ahs then, this making more sense. "It's just... I didn't realize you'd react like that," he explains, as his fingers circle over the twin bases of both horns. He laughs again, "No... no wings... will you get wings?"

Diana sighs contentedly, her eyes going half closed as she gives a small shiver, "Mmmwhy not? I like touch too, y'know..." Thinking about it, Jason remembers Diana's mother as just being more lightly built and delicate looking -- and shorter, by about half a foot or so. Amazing how something so small can look so menacing sometimes... she murmurs relaxedly, "Mother thinks so... but it'll take a few years, she says. I'm just now starting to show the horn curl of adulthood, after all..." She sighs softly again, obviously enjoying the sensations he's giving her, and lazily runs her tongue under his chin and along his jaw line.

When Diana reacts so normally to pleasure, it's always a little disconcerting to be reminded of her alienness... it hits him that her tongue must be very long to reach as far as it did without her moving her head -- even if her face is currently just a few inches away from his. Jason just smiles, deciding not to ruin the moment with a clinical explanation... and then she licks him, which makes him tingle, and then he realizes just how long that tongue must be... it is disconcerting, but he pushes that aside. "Hhhhmmm... with a reach like that, you must give a hell of a tongue kiss..." he murmurs, trying to make a joke out of it as his hands finally slide from her forehead, instead resting on her shoulders. Best, perhaps, to not get too carried away.

Diana hmmms inquiringly, then opens her eyes enough to curiously ask, "What's a tongue kiss? Do you only kiss your partner's tongue, or do you curl them together?"

Jason barks a sudden laugh. "It's... the latter. Kissing open mouthed, with tongues touching and wrapping... you're more of an innocent than I realized."

Diana tilts her head at you curiously, "What's an innocent?" She grins at a sudden thought, "Is it tasty?"

Jason can't help but giggle at the idea of this seemingly adult woman asking questions of him like a child. "You're so endearing, Diana... what I meant was... there's a lot you still don't know. About people... about sex and intimacy."

"Oh!" She smiles at him, "Well, of course not, silly. Sex is for when I'm an adult and have my own people to feed from. It'd be a waste of your energy otherwise."

Jason tilts his head. "Well, I don't know about that, but..."

She thinks a moment, then puts her arms around his neck and asks him seriously, "Jason... you don't think of me as... as smothering you, like the rug, do you?"

Jason considers, and then smiles back, touching his nose to hers. "Not right now, no. This... this is nice. Not smothering at all."

She smiles, then looks a little concerned, "So... how do I tell when you're feeling smothered, though?"

Jason reaches up, touching her face, tracing a finger down her cheek almost affectionately. "You don't have to tell, Diana. I'll let you know, okay?" he promises.

She looks relieved -- then impulsively hugs you tightly, murmuring softly in your ear, "Thank you, sweet. So... would you like a tongue kiss? Is that what you were asking for?"

Jason blinks. "I wasn't asking, just..." He thinks about it a second. "I guess I am... curious, though," he admits, feeling his face flush again.

She giggles, touching his face lightly with her fingertips, "You're red again! I think it's a nice color, though." She smiles at him, her dark-lashed eyes half closed... then leans her entire length up against him, one long leg curling around his -- hopefully he's well braced -- and her arms wrapping more closely about him. The fingers of one hand run through his hair, and her lips part as she leans slowly in closer. Jason finds himself reflexively grabbing for a handhold... but instead his fingers close around her rear. Fortunately, his other hand is not so distracted, and he quickly finds purchase on a wall railing as he finds himself succumbing almost eagerly to the expected kiss...

The shower water is a soft hissing in his ears and a warm caress streaming down his body, but Diana's lips are warmer, closing against his. She shifts her hips lazily against him, settling herself comfortably (and causing heated sensory shocks each time she shifts), and he can feel the soft rumble of her purring, from her chest pressed against him and leaning upwards to his face. Her tongue uncurls sensuously into his mouth, causing a different set of sensory shocks to thrill through his body; he can feel her small fangs against his lips, closing gently but firmly to hold him in place; the hissing in his ears turns into a roar of sensation shuddering through his body like touch turned to sound and it's almost like her tongue is lapping up his soul... Jason moans... though her mind may be untrained, her instincts seem to be perfect, and embarrassment at the feel of her against his nethers is washed away by the liquid pleasure of her kiss. He finds himself digging his fingers into her backside as his tongue tangles with hers greedily...

Pleasure is like an ocean -- it can crash over you unexpectedly. It's almost startling to register her worried voice, "Jason? Jason, say something, please?" She's half supporting him, looking down into his face. Belatedly it occurs to him that breathing while kissing is a good idea. Jason blinks, coming back to himself, his chest heaving as his lungs suck in air, trying to reorient himself. Diana looks rather frightened, "Did I smother you?!"

Jason brings his hand to his mouth as he coughs. "Not... not exactly, Di. It was... it was just so good I forgot to, uhm... breathe." He looks sheepish. "It's really not your fault, love." Diana looks like she's not sure she believes him, but she doesn't say anything, instead just slowly kneeling so she can let him sit in the tub. Jason goes to his knees gratefully, touching her face. "Really, Diana, it's okay... I just... maybe it was a little too intense. But it's still not your fault. This is... this is new to me too."

She studies Jason with concern, then nods once, a small, slightly nervous smile on her lips. "All right, if you say so, Jason. I... well, it's new for me too, I'm afraid." She gets a slightly guilty look, adding, "I... I know I should really do this with Mother present the first time, to be sure I do it right and don't accidentally hurt you, but, um..." she nervously twirls a damp strand of jet black hair around one slender reddish finger, "-well... I figured it would be safe since I, uh... had eaten so much last night, you know...?" Her voice trails off as she murmurs unhappily, "I'm sorry, Jason... I'll make sure Mother's there for the first time, okay?"

Jason nods reflexively -- then blinks. "Er... the first time what?" he queries, suddenly realizing he's not sure what we're talking about.

Diana runs one hand lightly over Jason's face, brushing his hair back out of his eyes, and smiles reassuringly, "The first time we have sex, sweet. Like I said, I don't want to waste your energy if you're going to be kind enough to give it to me so."

Jason makes a small 'o' with his lips. "That... makes sense, I guess," he replies, trying to keep the trepidation out of his voice.

Diana nods happily, then grins in relief and leans forward to touch her nose lightly to his, adding, "I'm glad I didn't smother you, Jason. Don't forget to breathe!"

Jason laughs a little helplessly. "Yes, dear... uhm... why exactly is your mother supposed to be present?" he queries casually. He's already spoken in haste once before, and doesn't want to alarm Diana unnecessarily.

Diana grins, brushing her streaming hair back, and rises, offering him a hand, "Let's get out of the shower, yes? I'm starting to prune!"

Jason blinks, and realizes he's getting wrinkly himself. "Oh, yes... good point," he abruptly agrees.

As before, it's a little disconcerting when Diana's flashes of innocence and alienness coincide -- her voice is calmly pragmatic as she turns off the shower and steps out with Jason, "From your flavor I'd guess you've not been with a lot of women yet, right? When you're still all fresh and new you taste different, intoxicating -- and to someone like me, who's not got much experience either, it'd be easy for me to get overwhelmed by how good you taste, and gulp down as much as I can... and that wouldn't be good." She smiles warmly at Jason, her eyes full of promise, "And I want you to last as long as possible, sweet. I don't want to hurt you by accident."

Jason nods, following this so far. "And your mother is supposed to... control your appetite, or something?"

Diana nods happily, "Yup! And if you want I can put my mark on you too. I wasn't going to, but Mother says I shouldn't be squeamish, that it helps protect you. So I was going to ask you each separately, the first time for each of you, if you wanted that." She brushes Jason's wet hair back, tracing a finger along his throat, "It goes right here, and I bet you'll be able to see it, but apparently most humans can't, but the supernaturals can, and it says in effect, 'Don't touch! Someone else's!'" She adds warningly, "It's not an automatic shield, though, sweet -- don't think of it so. It just lets the rational ones know."

Jason laughs at her terminology. "That... would actually be something of a relief, Di. I've been concerned about that sort of thing since yesterday." He shivers a little at the touch to his throat, and then his mind registers something she said a moment ago. "What do you mean... 'last as long as possible'?"

Diana looks relieved as she explains, "I vaguely remember my father -- that was before we figured out we didn't have to have only one human at a time. Mother loved him dearly, and he loved us, but he didn't last very long -- less once Mother had two to feed." She adds a little unhappily, "Mother tried to run away from him once she realized white hair meant he was aging... but he didn't want to let her go."

Jason blinks. "The feeding... did this make him age prematurely?" he queries, suddenly nervous.

Diana nods, reaching for a towel, "Yes. That's why we're careful now. We sip off guys in the club, and Mother feeds from her flock, and deliberately keeps it large so she can feed me too without hurting any of them." She turns around with the towel, adding a bit proudly, "I was the one that figured it out. I do the finances for the club too!"

Jason chews on that some as he grabs his own towel. He's still nervous, but... she was honest with him about it. And it means it's something they've worked it out so they can get what they need without that sort of result. "You're very clever, Diana," he assures, smiling as he dries off. "What, uhm... what does Beatrice helping you entail, exactly? Does she just have to be there?"

Diana pauses from flipping the towel cheerfully over his head, and tilts her head at him, "Er... is something wrong, Jason? You... taste a little different?"

Jason considers, and then smiles a little ruefully. "I guess I'm just a little... I mean, it's partly the feeding, but..." he grits his teeth and barrels ahead, "You're right. I've never been with a woman... all the way. Sexually. And the idea of doing it with someone else present -- your mother, no less -- I guess it's a little nerve wracking."

Diana stares at Jason for a moment... then her face lights up and she hugs him tightly again, "Oh, thank goodness!" She giggles, leaning back enough to see his face, and adds, "I thought I would be the only nervous one the first time!"

Jason is caught flatfooted. But then she explains, and he laughs. "Oh, no... no, Diana, I've done more just with you than... well, than I've done with anyone. And it's all happened so fast. That's part of why I was feeling... vulnerable, earlier."

Diana grins, happily leaning her head against Jason's shoulder as she continues to hug, "It's all right. We can wait as long as you like, so you healed and don't feel stitched up inside any more. What else... oh, right! Yes, Mother will be there as back-up, in case there's any problem." She giggles, flipping the towel over his head and starting to briskly dry his hair.

Jason seems further relieved right up till that last part. "Back-up? What does 'back-up' entail? Does she just... stop you, if it gets too intense?" he asks as he lets Diana fuss over him.

"Mmhmmm... plus she knows how to..." Diana pauses, searching for words, "Umm... well, you know how if you accidentally cut yourself and bleed, you clean it off, put pressure on it, and apply a band aid? Okay, so there are, um... I don't know what to call it... like... energy veins, and Mother knows how to heal them if I accidentally nick one... er... does that make sense?"

Jason ahs, slowly wrapping his mind around that. "Yes... yes, that doesn't sound so bad," he agrees.

"And your energy is really pure and sweet and strong right now." She pauses, thinking and absently licking her lips, then smiles ruefully at him, "I'm sorry, Jason, there are words for this in our native tongue, but not English. I'll try explaining again if you want?"

Jason considers. "Well, your initial explanation seems sound enough... though I'm curious about what it is that makes my energy so... desirable." He absently finds himself drying off Diana in return.

Diana smiles, leaning into his hands a little, "Mmm... it's... clean, very... well, pure, you know? It's not just flavorful, it's energy you wouldn't have second thoughts about swallowing up and shaping you."

Jason tilts his head. "Are you saying... it's youth? Or my virginity?" he queries, still not getting it.

Diana's lips form the word curiously... then she smiles puzzledly, "What's a virginity?"

Jason realizes he should have figured that. "It's a term humans use to describe someone who hasn't been sexually intimate yet. Usually, but not always, associated with, er... intercourse."

"Oh. Hm... well, I don't know. Is an intercourse when you mix your energies together intimately?"

Jason chuckles ruefully, blushing again. "That could be... an accurate description. I don't know how it looks to you, but to us it involves, er... penetration, of the male organ into the female's. Until climax is achieved," he explains, being clinical in hopes that it will assuage his embarrassment. "There are many ways that humans can be intimate, but this is usually the most... intense, as it is pleasure shared by both, simultaneously. When done correctly."

Diana nods, "That's it, then, although I've never heard it described with those words." It occurs to Jason that Diana may have a far more... crude vocabulary for sex, due to her current environment... she continues, "The purer your energy, the more strongly flavored of you it is for me, and the more intoxicating it can be. Also, Mother says it influences who the drinker will become -- you are what you eat, you know? -which is why she taught me to never, ever force someone -- it can taste really terrible then, and it starts harming you if you drink too much that way. Well... harm in the sense it makes you mean."

Jason finds himself fascinated by Diana's description. "I get this feeling like I might be curious to how your mother came here in the first place," he muses. "But putting that aside... you're saying that mixing energies with someone makes me less... pure?"

Diana grins, "She'd like to know that too, actually!" She listens to his question, then nods, "Yup. Mike's not pure at all, even though he's still tasty because he's kind."

Jason laughs. "Oh dear..." he says mock seriously. He then calls out, "Mike, I'm so sorry you're not a virgin!" and laughs. Diana grins uncertainly, tilting her head at Jason... then she giggles and flips the towel over his head again, continuing to dry his hair.

Toweling down is giggly fun, which while it takes longer than really necessary, is well worth the effort. Diana twists up her long, damp hair in a towel, and once they're both warmly wrapped up in their robes again she gives Jason a long, slightly squirmy hug... complete with some contented nuzzling against his neck. Then she slides one arm around Jason and grins mischievously at him as she leans her head against his shoulder, "Want to go lie down and have a nice backrub? Mike showed me how to do them, and I just happen to have some massage oil with me, and I'd like to try it on you?"

Jason smiles... this is a very nice feeling. "That would be lovely, Di," he rumbles, kissing her lips lightly -- just as a reminder of how tasty they are, of course. Diana blinks -- then brightens, leaning into Jason a bit and purring softly as she returns the light kiss.

Once in the outer room, Diana has Jason put the robe on himself like a cloak, then carefully lie facedown on a towel, so she can neatly fold back the robe to his waist. It's a few moments after the two exit the bathroom, though, before Mike raises his head from his work on the laptop -- as if he just realized they'd entered the room. He has a rather absent-minded polite half-smile on his face, and as soon as he notices the two of you don't seem to need his intervention, he contentedly goes back to his typing. Jason absently wonders at Mike's casual reaction to them. He makes a note to talk to Mike about it later: their brief conversation showed a deep pain in Mike that Jason doesn't want to make any deeper. But he also doesn't want to upset Diana, so he keeps his peace for now.

Soon thereafter Diana's humming contentedly to herself and working her well-oiled hands along Jason's back muscles. She's slow, thorough, and very focused, obviously enjoying the sensations she's receiving as much as those she's giving. It's warm and very, very relaxing... rather drowsy-making. The tune she's humming is one he doesn't recognize, but it's pleasant and slow and soft. The faint scent of sandalwood teases at his nose and hindbrain, and he sleepily realizes Diana must wear this scent sometimes, since it's starting to be associated with arousal in his head. Jason smiles to himself, making noises of contentment... he doesn't even mind being half naked in front of Mike... or well, not in front, since his back is to him... never mind. Sandalwood. Strong hands.

An immeasurable amount of pleasure and time later, Diana softly asks Jason to roll over, smilingly reassuring him, "I'll be getting a pillow for you, so I won't look, I promise. I remember you're shy about being nude out here, but I'd like to help you feel healed up instead of just stitched up."

Jason chuckles a little. "You're not doing bad so far..." he replies, inhaling the scent happily. He is a little hesitant, but finally worms over onto his back... he ends up with his head resting on a small pillow in her lap. She smiles down at him, upside-down from his perspective, and lightly trails a strand of her hair across his face. She whispers, "Close your eyes..." Once he's done so, her warm, gentle fingers lightly trail along his forehead, face, and temples in slow, lazy, sensuous patterns. The light, erratic tapping from the mentally-absent Mike starts to sound like quiet, all-day rain outside, and Diana continues her soft humming... he starts drifting mentally in the warm dark, free-associating through the contentment and safety; the light, almost spicy scent of the massage oil; the delicate touch of gentle fingers trailing slowly, seductively across his face...

Jason smiles, oddly soothed by these sounds, sensations... suddenly picturing actual rain outside, but warm like he's warm right now... laying on a porch swing with Diana, cuddling up as they watched the rain fall. A house not unlike where he grew up, in the country, with trees so beautiful in the fall as they changed colors, and with equally scintillating blooms in the spring... fallen blooms that he might find himself rolling around in with her, in the rain now, hearing her laugh and laughing with her as they wrestled... and wrestling becoming something more intimate, to the point where they'd be clambering back into the house and leaving wet clothes behind them as they kissed passionately, falling nude onto a rug by a roaring fire... gasping with passion...

Mmmm... does love have a flavor? A scent? It's warm and dim, but also curiously foggy. Must be from the rain. There's faint, directionless illumination coming through the drifting wisps, and Jason is now standing at the rather plain doorway of the house. The flowers are muted in the dimness, but he knows their colors by heart: scarlet and gold, indigo and purple, shades of pink and cream and all the colors of the rainbow. The overhanging boughs of the trees are dappled with color as well: the clean, pure green of growth as well as the rich palette of fall's glory...

Beatrice's sweet, clear tones come from behind him, as pure and heartless as birdsong, "That's very nice of you, Jason dear; thank you for offering to show me around your new house." Er, what...? Oh, that's right -- he's moving in with Diana... he has a moment of panic as the door opens -- is the decorating done? Did the wet clothes get picked up? and... could one possibly have a more terrifying mother-in-law... er... well, mother-in-something? But then he sighs in relief, remembering -- of course the house will be presentable; Diana wouldn't let him down. All he has to do is make the final decisions on what's in there and the house will be complete. Jason smiles, pushing his momentary confusion and uneasiness to the side. "I do hope you like it... I fell in love with the surrounding area almost immediately. I hope it's not too far from the city..." he finds himself babbling, holding the door open for Beatrice and waving her in.

The fireplace has a nice, tidy fire laid in it, the flames crackling warmly and lighting the room a bit erratically in reds and gold. Across the carpeted room is Mike, sitting in a big, comfy chair in one corner and still typing absorbedly away on his laptop. Beatrice steps lightly past Jason and looks around, shaking out her wings once, then neatly furling them behind her. She murmurs, "How nice!" then pauses as she notices Mike. Softly she murmurs to Jason, "Don't you envy him? All he has to do is write stories... and for some reason that means he gets some of your time with Diana." She smiles enigmatically at Jason, her slanted eyes reflecting the firelight back at him as she tilts her head to look up at him, "Doesn't it just burn you up inside?"

Jason's smile is a little pained. "Mike's not just a writer... he's an incredible writer. And a good friend," he says patiently. "Besides... I did come second. I should be grateful he doesn't consider me the interloper," he says politely.

A log snaps sharply in the fireplace, startling Jason... but when he looks at the fire it seems nice and warm and hot, roaring comfortably up the chimney. Behind him Beatrice whispers, "You don't mind his being here then?"

Jason finds himself sighing internally. What is it about succubus and coming up behind people... "It was my idea. We're a trio now... all of us needing each other. It seemed silly to keep us separate."

Beatrice laughs softly -- a trill of birdsong -- and waits until he turns and looks at her to continue, "That's a very good point, actually." She grins at him, fangs gleaming against her scarlet lips, and her hair drifting a bit in the warm eddies of air from the fireplace... almost hypnotic, in a way. "Very wise. Although..." she turns and regards Mike consideringly, then smiles slowly back at Jason, "I get angry when someone else tries to steal my loved ones from me... especially someone so undeserving!" She watches him unblinkingly, her eyes glowing molten gold in the firelight, and murmurs, "Doesn't injustice like that just burn you up? What if she left you for him?!"

Jason sits himself, feeling a little uncomfortable about this topic, particularly when Mike is so near. "How much more deserving am I? What makes me more special than him?" he asks diplomatically. "And I seriously doubt that would happen. But if it did, well... it would be difficult, certainly. But I love her... and sometimes you have to let someone go when you do."

There's another sharp crack from the fireplace, and Mike looks up at the noise. He looks around, nodding once in approval, then looks at Jason, "I like what you did with this room. Good luck with the rest of them." The room does look nice, actually... calm and peaceful and warm, with spots where three could comfortably cuddle and be happy together. Mike nods politely to Beatrice, "Honored hierophant." She smiles at him, although... for a moment she looked a bit different, as if her wings were more a hooded cloak... no, must've been a trick of the firelight. Mike goes back to his typing.

Beatrice smiles up at Jason, "Yes, I think this room is done. Shall we see what lies within?" She trit-trots lightly to the inner doorway, her tail swaying and curling behind her, and Jason realizes she seems to have small cloven hooves hidden under those big bat wings. Funny how some things register and others don't. He's relieved the topic has been laid aside. "By all means," he agrees, getting up and meeting her at the doorway.

Jason follows Beatrice through the door, which swings shut behind him -- on a jarring scene of bedlam. The room is full of people, all crowding close and shouting questions at him, so fast and thick he can hardly think. Curiously, they seem awed, or almost worshipful -- he's reminded of a rock star surrounded by groupies. "How did you win her? What did you do?" "Were you aware of what she can do for you?" "Will you touch me? Can I have your baby?" "Just a kiss -- just one!" "Touch me!" "Heal me!" "I want you!" Hands reach out to touch, caress, grab at him -- they're pressing close all around him. A short distance away Beatrice stands, a faint smile on her lips.

Jason pulls back in horror, astounded by the sudden crush of plaintive people. "What... what is this?" he demands, trying to fend them off. The people all draw back immediately at his command, their eyes still following him reverently. He can hear whispers in the crowd, "Is he angry? Will he make us leave?" "Hush! Just do what he says -- then maybe we can stay." Humbly one of the women in the front says, "Please, we just want to... to -- don't make us leave, please?"

Beatrice chuckles softly, waving a hand to him over the crowd, "Jason, dear, don't mind me -- you stay and deal with your fans, all right? I'll just show myself in and find Diana. Take your time!" She adds slowly, drawing out the words seductively, "Take pride... in your power!"

Jason seems flabbergasted. "What power? I don't have any power, I'm just a teaching assistant!" he protests back at her, looking at the others. "What is this about?" he demands. Beatrice's eyes are glowing bright scarlet as she slowly turns away towards the door, an almost triumphant swish to her tail -- and the people all press close, chattering excitedly at Jason, patting at him, touching him, asking for a touch, an autograph, pressing him away from the door near Beatrice. Their admiration and awe is almost palpable.

Jason doesn't feel powerful right now... he feels hemmed in, almost like a trapped animal. Right now, Beatrice isn't his focus. "Just everyone stop a moment!" he demands of the group. They silence instantly. Beatrice pauses at the door, her hand resting on the doorknob. It's weird, though -- she's looking more and more like a hooded figure than a winged one. She smiles once, slowly, watching Jason effortlessly manipulate the crowd, which is waiting with bated breath for his next pronouncement.

Jason has a hard time focusing on everything at once, so he picks out the woman that begged him not to make them go earlier, and addresses her. "Why are you even here? And why do you think I'm so special?" he asks more calmly of her.

The woman stares open-mouthed at Jason for a second -- then falls to her knees, "You are the one who controls the succubus and keeps us all safe!" Like a ripple moving through the crowd, they all start kneeling. Soft whispers can be heard, "Why'd she pick him?" "Hush! You're just jealous she spurned you." "He's so -- so strong!" Beatrice's smile grows a bit wider, and she turns away, the door opening slowly as she says, "They adore you, Jason. You're their savior and charismatic leader and judge, all rolled into one." She whispers softly, "Stay. Your followers need you... I'll just show myself in..."

Jason gets wild-eyed. "But this... that's not true. What do you mean, safe? They're not dangerous... they were making themselves safe before I even showed up..." he protests, even as a sliver of doubt enters his mind...

The people nod, echoing him, "Yes, they're not dangerous -- he says so!" "Yes... we're safe with him at the helm." "Thank goodness he's here!" Beatrice chuckles quietly, starting to walk through the door, and the room seems to darken and shrink around the edges.

Jason is suddenly afraid at the growing darkness. "Wait, Beatrice... what's going on... why are they doing this?" he calls out, trying to make his way around the cluster of people...

Mike appears at the outer door, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, and nods quietly to Jason, "Hurry." The people now seem disturbingly clingy, trying to hold him there, "Wait! Wait, we need you -- don't go!" Beatrice's silhouette pauses in the inner doorway, flashing a snarl of dislike towards Mike, then turns and pushes impatiently on the doorway, as if there was a film there keeping her from simply darting through... although the silhouette looks somewhat wrong, as if Beatrice can't hold her shape well... or never was Beatrice to begin with...

Jason struggles. "Get out of my way!" he demands sharply, hoping it works as it did before, tension suddenly flaring higher, as more and more seems so wrong... trying to get to Beatrice, driven by an instinct to stop her. His determination to leave the room seems to demoralize the clingy fans... they fall away like snowdrifts from heat, wailing quietly as they fade. There's one last, "Well, drat!" and then Jason's standing in the doorway, stepping through easily into the next room... which is a relief on the senses after the previous mental assault.

This room is richly, almost opulently decorated. Beatrice straightens from where she was leaning over to admire some sweet-scented roses in a gold-ornamented vase, "There you are!" Velvet tapestries hang on the wall; piles of soft cushions adorn the richly carpeted floor, and a lovely, soft, comfy ottoman is mounded with pillows and silken sheets. Beatrice looks around thoughtfully with her hands on her hips, then smiles at Jason, "Very nice, very oriental. Shouldn't there be more, though? One can't ever surround oneself with too many beautiful things, after all." She taps one clawed finger against her scarlet lips, considering, then says, "Maybe more gold filigree over there? Or some rosewood cabinets?"

Jason will not allow himself to be put off this time, not even by the comfy surroundings. "What's going on? Who are you really?" he demands, being far more bold and aggressive than he's ever been with Beatrice... than he's ever been with anyone, really.

Beatrice blinks, looking back at him, "Who do you think I am? Didn't you hear Mike?" She folds her arms, amusedly adding, "Theoretically honored hierophant. Do you expect my daughter to live in this paucity of comfort?"

Jason looks around in bemusement. "Paucity? If it were any more lavish, I'd have to be a prince in a palace. Besides... Diana decorated it. If it's like this, this is what she wants! But that's not the point? What the hell is a hierophant?"

Beatrice raises an eyebrow, then purrs, "But don't you want more? Surely you deserve it... you are a prince among men now. It'd be easy for you to get. Just... want it."

Jason shakes his head. "Putting aside that I already have everything I want... how the hell did this happen? I'm not a prince! I'm just some schmuck who got lucky! How the hell did it go this far?"

Beatrice tchs, crossing her arms and shaking her head at Jason, "So wrathful when you're thwarted. Are you so sure this is of hell? Think about it -- you have everything you want. Why not just relax, let Diana take care of you? Why get all riled up for no reason?" She pats the ottoman lightly, "Rest a bit. Diana will be here soon to take care of everything, I'm sure."

Mike appears in this doorway also, identically leaning against the doorframe just as before, and says, "Hierophant: traditionally the presiding priest who initiated candidates at the Eleusinian mysteries; hence, one who teaches the mysteries and duties of religion." He nods politely to Beatrice again, who lifts her chin and glares at him. Then he smiles ruefully at Jason, "Perils of a classical education... you're having a Jungian Inferno, I think."

Jason refuses to sit, crossing his arms. "I'm wrathful because I don't know what is going on. I'm getting riled up because I'm not getting any straight answers. And I don't want what I have if it means that there's some hidden charge as a result!" When Mike appears, though, his tirade is interrupted, and he's quiet as he tries to absorb what he's told. "A what-a-what?"

Beatrice gives a sharp, short hiss at Mike, who nods and says apologetically to Jason, "You have to work within yourself to decide who you'll be, not with us. We're just your possible shadows." He chuckles, straightening, and as he fades back away through the door he says, "Remember... Jungian Inferno. Ask me about it later when you wake up."

Jason blinks stupidly. "Wake up?"

Beatrice glares after Mike, sparks literally flying from her eyes, then looks back at Jason, frowning, "He's a cloudy-headed moron." She thinks for a moment... then smiles slowly, "Well, if you don't want to rest, let's move on! Come-come! Hurry, rush-rush, no time to wait and rest!"

Jason looks sharply at Beatrice. "And you're a temptress," he growls. "Where do you think you're taking me?"

Beatrice laughs -- a pure ripple of birdsong-like clearness -- then smiles at Jason again through half-lidded eyes, "I'm your creation here. We're only going where you wish to be." She crosses her arms under her breasts and lazily sways her hips once, "So why not relax and enjoy yourself? What's the rush?"

Jason stops a moment as what is going on fully sinks into his brain. Fortunately for him, his agitated and partly angry state nullifies the affect of Beatrice's charms. He looks around then. "I see no need to rest. Show me what you have to show me," he says firmly. The room is surely beautiful... but its beauty is lost on him. He's never been one for opulence anyway. He looks for an exit.

Beatrice pouts prettily, slowly reclining on the ottoman, which cradles her in silken sheets. She stretches, raising one leg and pointing her toes, clasping one small hand around the ankle and tossing her head back in a small froth of scarlet hair, "I am... you're not appreciating! Don't you want to stay here?"

Jason continues to look for an exit other than the one he just came through, ignoring Beatrice's blatant attempt at seduction. "It's not my style... and if you're my creation, you'd know that," he says absently. "I love beauty, but such a surfeit of it is wasteful luxury."

Beatrice frowns... then bounces lightly to her feet, her wings spreading momentarily for balance. She paces slowly over to Jason. Her head is slightly lowered so she's looking up at him through her bangs, and there's a definite, delicious sway to her hips and shoulders, which makes her breasts sway nicely too. She walks directly up to Jason, so close she's stretched the length of her front up against him, then turning slowly to rub herself against him. Her voice is a low, inviting purr, "Don't tell me you intend to be faithful to... to a thing that's neither faithful solely to you, nor even human?"

Jason pauses, trying to ignore the feel of Beatrice's curves against him, the smell of her. It's not so much that, though, as her words which make him stop and think. "It's different for her... she needs more than I can give. And if I'm honest with myself, I understand that it doesn't make what she feels for me any less. She didn't have to pick me. She chose to," he replies hesitantly. "Besides... to ask her to have me solely is to risk the same thing her father did. If I can give her freedom... that benefits both her and me."

Beatrice smiles, deliberately pressing close and rolling her hips against Jason, "Mmmmthinking too much? Just... feel..."

Jason stifles a groan... if this is a dream, it feels awfully real. But he steels himself, turning to face her and putting out a hand to prevent her from coming closer. "Why in the world would I want or need anyone else? I can barely keep up with her as it is... if all I wanted was stolen pleasure from whatever woman I could charm into my bed, I'd have sought that long ago... there's a reason why I'm a virgin," he says firmly, though with a thickness to his voice.

Beatrice steps back and folds her arms again, exasperation in every line. "Pah, rationalists!" Her eyes sparking with annoyance, she raises an arm over her head, then sweeps it down in a commanding gesture. As she does so, like a garment being pulled from a mannequin, the 'seeming' of Beatrice strips away, leaving behind a hooded, stooped figure that mutters, "What's the point of having the deadly sins if no one indulges any more?" A moment later the cloaked figure collapses in upon itself, leaving behind... nothing. Soft, gray, foggy nothingness... and a single closed door before Jason, with golden light streaming through the cracks in the doorjamb around it. Diana's voice calls softly, "Jason?"

Jason blinks, finally understanding... her trying to turn him against Mike was envy. The room... she tried to entice him with greed, sloth, and lust. The throng of people... pride, maybe? But what was the point to it all? These thoughts whirl around in his head as he reaches for the door, closing on the handle. "I'm coming, Diana," he says firmly. The door opens...

Jason opens his eyes on a comfortable mix of sensation... pleasant warmth, the gentle spicy scent of sandalwood, the soft dreaming sounds of quietly falling rain and lightly tapping keystrokes... there's a soft silky drift across part of his lower face and something warm and contentedly purring tucked under his chin. His arms are wrapped around a long form whose curves nicely match his own, reclining half across him.

Jason finds himself smiling a little, content in these sensations, but even more content with his success... though, in feeling that, he seems regretful at making so light of it... he was lucky. The first one hit hardest -- the first two, really, if the tests were both Envy and Wrath -- but he managed to deal with all of them. He lifts his head to look at Diana.

She's still in her robe (although it's unbelted and thus gotten a bit, er, dramatically loosened from her recent endeavors), and Jason can tell she's made an effort to respect his desire to remain covered -- she's slipped her arm across his chest under the robe so she can touch him, but her bare leg thrown over his is carefully on top of his robe. Admittedly, it's pretty obvious from the amount of skin showing she's not quite clear yet on where Jason draws the line for his comfort... but at least she made the effort! Her face is tucked against his neck, under his chin, and when he shifts there's a small, sleepy, protesting sound from her. Her long black hair lies in a sweep across his lower face and the arm around her shoulders, and she's comfortably draped half across him.

Jason feels... great, though. No headache, no aches at all. Astonishingly comfortable. After careful consideration he finds he doesn't at all mind this level of intimacy. Oh sure, he's still red-faced, but not uncomfortably so... besides, Diana's admission that sex wasn't going to happen yet relieved him immensely. He can therefore enjoy her without that expectation lingering... though the memory of his dream-journey still lingers in his head. He finds himself wondering exactly where this relationship will take him... and if he's prepared for it. He touches Diana's cheek affectionately, stroking it. "Mike?" he calls softly.

There's a small happy-sounding murmur from Diana and for a moment she clings a little tighter... then she relaxes again, still sleeping. The tappity-tapping goes on a moment, then pauses as Mike looks up, "Er, what? Did you say... something..." He blinks at the two of you lying together, then gets a sudden, small, rather quietly pleased-looking smile on his face.

Jason kisses Diana's hair, his fingers exploring her jaw line before looking back at Mike. "What's a Jungian Inferno?" he queries casually of the author.

Mike gives Jason a slightly perplexed, slightly intrigued look... then leans back in his chair, pausing to remove his reading glasses and rub his forehead for a moment. Then he sets the glasses aside and says, "That's a very interesting question, Jason. May I ask what prompted it?" The academic in Mike is obviously coming out -- he looks rather like some of Jason's professors.

Jason smiles a little sheepishly. "You told me to ask you... you said I was having one. In my head." He pokes it in explanation.

Mike studies Jason for a moment, perplexity on his face. "I... asked you to ask me that?" He's silent a moment, thinking, then curiously adds, "A dream?"

Jason nods. "I think so. I think I drifted off during the massage."

"Aha. Well... that's certainly a curious juxtaposition." Mike studies the ceiling for a moment, thinking, then says slowly, "A... Jungian Inferno. Hm... well, I've already mentioned Dante's 'Divine Comedy' to you, where part of the series is the cantica dedicated to the Inferno. There's also the Purgatorio and Paradiso, if memory serves." He taps a few times on his computer, then reads, "Ah, here we go... 'widely considered the central epic poem of Italian literature, the last great work of literature of the Middle Ages and the first great work of the Renaissance, and one of the greatest of world literature. Its influence is so great that it affects the Western Christian view of the afterlife to this day.'" He looks up, adding, "The Inferno is supposed to be the author being led through hell by the poet Virgil. His guide through Paradise was Beatrice, whom he believed to be the perfect woman. The work consists mostly of political and religious commentary of the day, but it also contains some lovely, powerful prose. Was your dream about hell?"

Jason blinks, and laughs helplessly. "Not exactly... but Beatrice was my guide. Our Beatrice. She... she tempted me. Tried to lure me into the deadly sins." He looks wry. "Sadly, I know that only because I happen to like Morgan Freeman. I learned about the Deadly sins from watching 'Seven.'"

Mike mutters, "What are they teaching in college these days?" as he covers a smile.

Jason looks sheepish again. "I'm sorry! Literature was never my strong suit..."

Mike grins, waving a hand dismissively, "Don't worry about it -- I write the occasional trashy pot boiler myself. I suppose we could do worse than Morgan Freeman as your Virgil, and our Beatrice as your Beatrice." He's silent for a moment again, fascinatedly musing, "A Jungian temptation... interesting!" He grins, the academic coming to the fore again, and gets a tone much like a lecturing professor, waving an admonishing finger, "The human experiences the unconscious through symbols: in dreams, art, religion, the symbolic dramas we enact in our relationships... if we're to fruitfully encounter and consciously reconcile with the broad world of our unconscious -- which is the goal of Jungian psychoanalysis -- then we must learn our symbolic language. Only through attention and openness to this world (which is quite foreign to the modern Western mind) is the individual able to harmonize his life with these suprapersonal archetypal forces. Make sense?"

Jason blinks, trying to wrap his mind around what Mike is saying. "Sort of. What archetypal forces are we talking about, though?"

Mike grins, "Well, succubi, for starters. Ahhh... magic, mythologies, religions, things that go bump in the night..." more quietly he adds, "...the creeping things in the shadows we can both see, as well. I wonder what Jung would think if he were to discover the archetypes were real."

Jason finds himself fascinated. "You're saying that the supernatural creatures represent... er, extremes of human personality?"

"Hm. No, more that human personality projects its extremes on the supernaturals -- which is a small but critically important distinction. For all I know, all that psychic energy from the collective unconscious has served to warp or mold them as well." He shudders slightly, "Although the idea of our night horrors all being our own fault is a bit terrifying too."

Mike ponders a moment, then briskly adds, "Okay. So, Jung considered individuation, which is what he called this process of psychological growth and maturation, to be of critical importance to the individual human being -- and by extension to society itself. In order to undergo this individuation process, you must open yourself to what is in you beyond your own ego -- pay attention to your dreams, explore the world of religion and spirituality, and question the assumptions of your current working societal worldview, rather than just blindly living life in accordance with the dominant norms and assumptions you've been taught. So... I'm guessing your unconscious mind is trying to... to warn you about your embarking onto a life path which will require you to truly know yourself." He pauses a moment, then muses, "So Beatrice was your temptation -- not Diana? Hm... I wonder if she's your anima, then... or maybe your shadow...?" He pauses again, then curiously asks, "What was I doing in your dream?"

Jason starts to sit up, and them remembers he's got a Diana wrapped around him. "It makes a certain amount of sense, though. Point of fact, it could be that we're responsible for the creation of the supernatural to begin with. What is that Voltaire quote? If God didn't exist, man would have to create him?" he muses, then realizes Mike has moved on. "Er, well... yes, from a certain standpoint, I suppose it would make sense that Beatrice would be the tempter. But you... well, you referred to both yourself and Beatrice as 'shadows.' I don't know what that means, but you were more like... er, an advisor. Kinda like your Obi-Wan to Beatrice's Darth Vader."

Mike listens, his eyebrows raising in fascination... then grins at Jason's last comment. Dryly he murmurs, "Well, let us hope my dialogue is better than his..." He chuckles, then nods, "I don't know if we actually created them -- ask Beatrice (our Beatrice) about her memory of where she came from, sometime -- but it wouldn't surprise me at all to discover we created how they react to this world."

Jason adds then, "You called her a hierophant. The dream-you called Beatrice that." As Jason shifts a bit, Diana murmurs protestingly... then resettles when he doesn't shift further. A small yawn, her tongue curling in a lazy teasing tickle along his throat and jaw line... and then her breathing deepens and she relaxes again. Jason giggles a little at the tongue teasing, and then flushes more as Mike watches it all.

Mike raises his eyebrows in fascination again, lost in thought, "Really now?!" He thinks a moment, then slowly murmurs, "Let's see, a hierophant. That's from the ancient Greek hierophantes, which translates as, umm... 'sacred person who reveals something.' Traditionally in ancient Greece he was a priest who spoke the interpretations of the Eleusian mysteries at the religious festivities they held yearly. So in a modern-day sense I guess the hierophant would be an explainer of mysteries, really. Somebody who interprets and explains obscure and mysterious matters, especially sacred doctrines or mysteries." He grins quietly at Jason, "What a compliment; do thank your unconscious for me. Does that help any?"

Mike leans back in his chair again, obviously enjoying both the view and the mental challenge, "Ah, and shadows. Hmm... the shadow is an unconscious, er... creation? It's the diametric opposite of your ego, or conscious self. It represents everything you don't consciously wish to acknowledge within yourself, although it's inherently neither good nor bad -- it just is. It provides balance to the brighter side of your personality. Jung emphasized the importance of being aware of your shadow, of incorporating it into your conscious awareness so you don't project these undesired attributes onto others. That's what I was wondering about, regarding the molding of the supernaturals -- did we project our shadows onto them."

Jason chews on that. "What I don't really understand, though, is why it was so... I mean, it made sense. For all the talk of symbols and all that, it was a remarkably clear and vivid dream. Most of my dreams are... mishmashes -- a melting pot of concepts and images. And to have everything so clearly represented, with you there as the man with all the answers... answers I surely didn't think I had rattling anywhere in my brain." He glances at Diana. "Could it have something to do with her?"

Mike chuckles, "Well, you are lying with a succubus. Er, half-succubus. I don't know about you, but she has a remarkably focusing effect on my thoughts."

Jason groans. "Focusing on something else, though..." he says dryly.

Mike grins cheerfully... then wryly adds, "Please don't assume I have all the answers, however. I'm as new to this as you are, barring only about a year's worth more time of having known Diana via letters and the occasional visit... or Alu, as she signed her letters."

Jason arches a brow. "How oddly appropriate," he muses.

"Mmm?"

"Well, I've heard the term alu-fiend... it refers to a hybrid, a half-demon, half-mortal individual... with the implication the mother was a succubus," Jason explains.

Mike looks curious, "Really? Interesting. From what she's said, it's her name in her mother tongue. She said it meant 'bridge,' as in one who is part succubus, part something else, and bridged both worlds, which is apparently incredibly rare... although I didn't get the impression it had quite so negative a connotation for her as you seem to imply?"

Jason looks wry. "Yeah, well, I got the name from Dungeons and Dragons. They can be worse than the English language when it comes to stealing creations and concepts from various mythologies."

Mike laughs -- then hastily covers his mouth so he won't wake Diana. His eyes are dancing with amusement as he adds, "I really must look into this phenomenon!"

Jason gets this serious look, then. "Mike..." he says hesitantly.

Mike regards Jason with thoughtful curiosity, "Yes? Feel free to ask whatever you'd like, Jason. I suspect we're going to have to be... pretty honest with each other, if we're going to be pulled together so through Diana."

Jason shoots his finger at Mike. "That's pretty close to what's on my mind... I meant what I said earlier. You may not have all the answers, but you know more than me... and knowing aside, I'm going to need you to help me wherever this takes us. I don't..." he pauses, and then rushes on. "I don't want you to ever think that I... that I begrudge you Diana's attentions." He looks absently at her. "She's not built like us...and we have to adapt if we're going to stay at her side. Both of us."

Mike nods slowly, watching Diana peacefully sleeping, "Oh, yes." He looks up at Jason, his expression sober, "I do not think we'll survive if we squabble amongst ourselves. I know that sounds melodramatic, but... well, I've had three wives already, and... this is a very different, a potentially dangerous game we're in, I think." He pauses, then says hesitantly, "I... hired a private detective earlier this year, to see if I could track down Diana's father from what she and her mother had said of him." His troubled gaze rests on the graceful form draped across Jason as he slowly says, "I... think I found him... a man in central Oklahoma, near where Beatrice first remembers clearly." He's silent a moment, then looks up at Jason, his face a bit haunted, "He died suddenly, over 50 years ago. Think about what that means."

Jason nods. "They'll outlive both of us. More than, since continued feeding can actually suck the life from someone. But I'm less worried about that... for all that they're succubi, they seem to care about the worth of life. What I'm more worried about is having her become the focus of life... being unable to live without her, as her father was unable to live without Beatrice. We're fine right now, after all... how will we feel years from now?"

Mike nods slowly again, "I admit, I was relieved to hear she'd found someone besides me. I could... well, I was starting to feel the pull, to catch myself wondering about moving out here. Beatrice even inadvertently warned me about it when she told me about Joe, the bartender. He's the part owner of the bar with her as silent partner -- he's been with them for years. He freely admits if it weren't for Diana insisting, he'd have gladly fed himself to Beatrice years ago." He shivers once, then adds slowly, "She's... different from her mother, somehow, I think. Not sure precisely how, but... it's like she sees more clearly or something?"

"Well, we already have the answer to that, don't we?" Jason points out.

"Mm? How so? Ah, that she's a half breed?"

"Precisely. If we take your supposition from earlier, that succubi are attuned specifically to lust, that clouds their perceptions. Everything they see is specifically seen through rose-colored glasses, if you will. But Diana... she's half-human. That makes her both less and more than her mother." Jason nods, pleased with that insight.

Mike smiles a bit, then nods thoughtfully again, "That would seem to make sense. So by extension we might say the more violent and/or brutal supernaturals have their perceptions clouded by their own brutality? Hm... I wonder if it's a self-perpetuating cycle. Humans project their unwanted desires and feelings on the supernaturals, who are molded by the energy into those very things, who turn that violent emotion back on the humans, who feed it back to them?" Mike gets a faintly alarmed expression, polishing his reading glasses on his shirt as he ruefully speaks, "Remind me never, ever to get angry or violent or... or otherwise negative with Diana!"

Jason shakes his head at Mike's nervousness... 'course, he has more reason to be. Mike's mind is far more fragile than his, what he's been through. "I'm not sure it's that simple, Mike. I don't think she's a sponge. Any more than a normal human is. Sure, with continued, relentless stimuli humans can be shaped and molded by such a way... and for Diana, perhaps it's easier. But she has no taste for it now. My rejection, my fear... they wounded her; they didn't feed her. As long as what we overall present to her is positive... that should be enough." He smiles. "That puts the Golden Rule in a whole new perspective, doesn't it?"

Mike gives Jason a puzzled look, "Your rejection and fear... when was this?" He pauses, then says, "Oh, you mean earlier today? I don't think she can eat for a few days yet, considering she filled herself last night."

"There was that yes, but... when I first saw Beatrice, my reaction was pretty acutely fearful, and she mentioned it, that the taste of it unsettled her." Jason explains.

Mike nods thoughtfully, "That would say she'd prefer not to eat that, then... that's a good thing." He considers, tapping his fingertips lightly on his lips, then nods, "So given the option, she'd rather consume more positive emotions. Definitely a good sign." He sighs, adding, "I do wish I could figure out where the supernaturals came from, though. Beatrice doesn't like talking about it, but I once heard Diana push her on it... and she said past her first memory in this world, all she remembered was a gray mistiness clouding her mind, with a silvery thread leading from her back through it into nothingness as far as she could see." He smiles ruefully, "What that's supposed to mean, I have no idea." He rubs his forehead, adding almost frustratedly, "And why can no one but us see them?!"

Jason ponders. "Perhaps it has something to do with changes in human society? Overall, the same mythologies that once drove us no longer exist. As strong as religion may still be in the world, it's a very different kind of belief. It's not belief in gods that influence the world directly, or in elves and pixies, or even belief in demons and angels. Even established religion has become secularized in a way, pushed aside by the growing power of science and reason, away from instinct."

Mike gives Jason an almost helpless look, "But I'm an agnostic -- I don't believe in a god! Do you?"

Jason looks wry. "I've never been a big believer, no. But it may have nothing to do with what you believe, but more what you're open to believing in. You're a creator: your imagination is naturally more open to stimuli than others."

Mike frowns thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair again. "Hm, possible... what do you do for a living?"

Jason scratches the back of his head. "Well, I'm not exactly like you... I'm doing a few things, like being a teaching assistant, as well as some consulting work... all computer and sciences oriented. But I was always... I was a huge fan of the supernatural and the mythical, from my reading choices." He shrugs cheerfully. "I'm a geek. Sue me."

Mike chuckles, shaking his head perplexedly, "I don't know... there's got to be more to it than just a shared liking for mythology. I mean, in my entire life you're it -- you're the only other person who can see them! Everyone always compliments me on the vividness of my imagination in my writing... not on how vividly I describe reality."

Jason nods absently, smiling as he inhales Diana's compelling scent. "And it's not as if we're alone in our proclivities. The only thing I can think is that through some stroke of luck or fate our minds are somehow attuned to something few people are."

Mike nods slowly again, his gaze distant in thought, "Why though, I wonder..."

The two talk a bit more, but not long after Diana wakes up, and rather kittenishly suggests they pay attention to her... which they more than happily do. It's not entirely flawless... there is hesitation and embarrassment as the two men try and work with each other to 'share' Diana, as it were. More food is ordered, and at one point Jason insists Mike read from his work for their entertainment. This leads to Diana now insisting Jason perform, at which point he blushingly shows off a surprisingly talented singing voice. There is much cuddling after, and Diana is gleefully introduced to the concept of a 'pillow fight.' The room is in considerable disarray by day's end.




Last modified: 2006-Apr-11 00:44:35

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