| Logs |
2009 June 13
| When The Bough Breaks |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Bough Logs |
Fourth Movement, First Verse
The day passes fairly quickly for Jareth and Norris, almost as if they blinked and it was done. The light is diming, the sky appearing as if sunset on a hazy day with no clear indicator of where the sun is but one just knowing that it is the balmy afternoon.
The lean-to tent they are in is empty but for them and some food and drink -- the drink being lassi, the food being somewhat harder to identify but mostly fruits and nuts and nara bread.
Jareth looks around, picking up the lassi and taking a careful sip. His brow wrinkles as he wonders how long he's been gone. Turning to Norris, he says, "Where's Mikal?"
Norris has been sampling all the - to him - exotic foods, when Jareth speaks up. It's not that he's a glutton, but he still likes food, and he's clearly curious. "Uh?" he says, when spoken to, and he wrinkles his nose, and looks around. "Ah, hmm. Dunno. Mebbe she's off takin care o' animals...or mebbe it's that thing wheres her wakin self is, like awake, annat." He doesn't seem so bothered by the time passing so quickly, although when he thinks about, he's dissapointed, as this is time that could have gotten to good use. "R' mebbe she's poking about. Not trustin that Asmodeus fella."
Norris considers further. "Yeah. SOmmat like that. Definitely not makin time wi' Lord Ravana." The big boy huhs. "Wonder where th' mounts got to. Ah should be working more on yer studded leather."
After a few minutes, there is a dull, heavy thud sound, followed by another, then another. They keep coming, and they sound like they're getting closer. Actually, they sound like footsteps.
Jareth's brows draw even further together as Norris is careful to say he's sure Mikal isn't with Lord Ravana. The young bard doesn't like that idea one little bit. And he's not sure why. Jealousy is not something he's used to feeling. The thudding sounds bring his head up and he moves to the open side of the tent, looking out.
Norris's brow knits. "uh." He looks at his friend with some consternation. Not that he's that worried about being attacked in a heavily fortified compound...hmm. "Mebbe yew shoul' stay here while ah see whut's whut..." He looks around for his mace, not noticing that Jareth has already gone to the flap...
Jareth steps back slightly as Norris cautions him.
Norris picks up the mace in one hand, and cautiously approaches the flap. He pushes the flap aside with the mace, so they can both see out.
The creature who is striding towards the tent is now only a few meters away. He is huge, easilly the size of Lord Ravana, but there's something about him that tells Jareth that the being is definitely not the equal of the raksasha sceptre lord. He is muscular but not bulky, though there doesn't seem to be an ounce of fat on him. His skin is a bright red, and his legs are jackknifed like a satyr's. A pair of huge black horns curve out almost elegantly from his angular head, framing bright yellow eyes. Just walking he looks like he could plow through a house. Though he wears a somewhat tatty, leathern kilt and sleeveless robe, he also has an amulet with a geometric design on it that looks identical to the one Asmodeus was wearing earlier.
Norris hisses in what sounds like the hackles of a cat going up. "Git behin' me, Jair. Naew." he orders with surprising heat, as he brings the mace to bear in both hands...not attacking, but clearly steeling himself for conflict.
Jareth's eyes widen at sight of the creature coming their way. It takes him a moment to recognize the amulet, but when he does, he remembers Asmodeus mentioning that he was going to send his apprentice. He whispers to Norris, "I think this might be the apprentice..."
Norris is taken aback. "Whut?"
Jareth says, "Asmodeus said he'd send his apprentice."
Norris opens his mouth, and then closes it. And then opens it, and closes it again. "Ah knewed 'pprentices kin be bigger'n th' master, but this's redici-lous."
Jareth nods slowly and steps up to stand beside Norris, carefully smoothing his face into a welcoming smile. He wants to make a good impression on their possible allies.
The Mazikin tromps over to the two, stopping a pace or two (his idea of a 'pace,' at least) away. He says simply, "I am Adramelech. Apprentice to Asmodeus." His voice has a faint lisping quality to it, in part because of the mouth full of large teeth, most of them rather sharp-looking. "Come; the raksasha lord and his council have made their decision."
Jareth nods and says, "I'm Cat, this is Bear. Our other companions aren't here at the moment. I apologize." He looks around and shrugs, smiling engagingly, "We'll be glad to hear Lord Ravana's decision."
Norris hopes that the decision is not to be made into snacks for Adramelech. He looks at his companion. "Spect we should go. Be impolite to make em wait. An They's prolly be along in short order."
Jareth nods and straightens his shoulders and nods to Norris, "Exactly."
Norris leads the way, not-so-covertly putting himself between Jareth and the giant devil-thing. "So...whut's yer story?" he queries, gesturing to Adramelech to lead.
Adramelech nods, and turns, gesturing with remarkably long-fingered and -taloned hands for the two to follow him. "It is well," he says; his voice is not quite a basso grande, and it actually has a pleasing timbre to it, albeit one that gives the impression of crackling fire. "Ninshubur and her brother will be along shortly, I am given to understand."
Jareth can't help but smile wryly. Normally that would be his question, but his mind is distracted over Mikal's absence. At Adramelech's comment, he asks, "Do you know where they are?"
Adramelech says simply, "I do not; Asmodeus said they were only absent as mortals in the Dreamtime are wont to be, and will be along in time."
Norris looks confused by Adramelech's assertion...and when Jareth pipes up, it clicks into place. People keep calling Mikal weird names.
As they walk, the two men study Adramelech. He does not feel the same as other aethyrs or sceptres that they've met, like the alfar or the raksasha, or even Asmodeus. It's like he's less than he once was, but still very powerful in some ways.
Norris's brow knits further. It could be his imagination, but it doesn't really feel like there is a strong master/apprentice dynamic, in the way the large man...thing...phrases his words. "How'd yew get t' be an apprentice?" he queries, inviting Adramelech to talk more about himself.
Adramelech glances, briefly, at Norris, and replies without strong emotion, "When I came to the Mazikin, there were none amongst them who knew me. He alone stepped forward to tutor me in their ways. Since then I have been called his 'apprentice' though there was a time when I could have been his master."
Jareth nods slowly, since that fits the feeling he'd gotten about Adramelech's power, "If it is not too personal or painful, what brought you to the Mazikin?"
Norris unhuhs carefully. Yeah, this goes with his general bad vibe. He doesn't know Asmodeus from Adam, but this one...that said, book, cover, and all that jazz.
Adramelech gives a quiet grunt. "It was a long time ago," he says. "I was once a god, but I lost all who worshipped me to the Lord of Dust and Ash. Rather than die and fade from memory, I had the chance to join the Mazikin, in hopes of someday exacting vengeance upon the Architect." He adds, in an almost amused tone, "It's actually rather liberating. Being like this, rather than as a god, I mean."
Mikal comes darting over at a flat run with Raphael bounding easily along next to her, throwing herself first on Norris in a tight hug, and then Jareth, "There you are! I missed you where've you been what a relief!"
Jareth nods slowly and says, "Not so much responsibility? I was once a herder, but I find I much prefer being a bard for the same reason."
Norris is, fortunately, able to take Mikal's fierce embrace without falling over. But that might mean the impact might hurt Mikal a little. "uh? Ah mean...we's been right here."
Adramalech nods slowly -- it's a weird gesture with horns that large. "Yes. Not so much responsibility. And not... so focussed. So... oriented towards something."
The look that floods over Jareth's face is of pure relief and he greets Mikal with as rib-cracking a hug as he can, followed by a kiss calculated to curl her toes. He doesn't even realize how much that expresses his nervousness as well as relief. After the kiss breaks, he says, "We... I guess I woke up." He motions to Adramalech, "This is Asmodeus' apprentice. Adramalech."
Norris's brow knits. "Although tehre was this whole thing, where lotsa time passed, an it was like we dinna notice, or wuz jumpin forward b'tween th' seconds...."
Jareth makes himself not ask Mikal what she's been doing.
The huge, clearly demonic-like being inclines his head -- carefully -- to Mikal. "Ninshubur," he greets her simply.
Mikal blinks a bit startledly at the kiss, then relievedly returns it. When Jareth lets her back down onto her own two feet she gabbles a bit breathlessly, "There's some scrolls in a city called Angkor Wat that Ravana Lord says will have answers for us and maybe also a lotus weapon and the woman whose brother's mace Bear has might train him but she's grieving now and they don't have any strategies for any of the things I mentioned and we shouldn't stay here long because if the angels get a mortal with a lick of tactical sense the rakshasa are dead and I want us off the mountain soonest as a result and- er..." She blinks, her astonished gaze traveling from the gleaming black cloven hooves, slowly up the massive body to the tips of the horns.
Norris turns his attention back to the large aethyr. "An whut does Asmodeus teach yew?" he asks the once-god. Still getting the willies off him.
Mikal has to crane her head back to see all of the entity, and she simply says a little faintly, "Er... hellooo...?"
Adramelech seems mildly amused and certainly not put off by Mikal's reaction, to judge by the little smile he has. "Come; I have been sent to fetch you all. Lord Ravana and his generals have finished their deliberations." As he gestures for them to follow him, he answers Norris simply, "The ways of being a Mazikim,"
Jareth slides his arm around Mikal, a bit more possessively than he means, and says, "Maybe I can talk them around to the right side of things." His voice is as blythe as ever.
Mikal glances confusedly at Jareth, "Er... what, please?"
Jareth smiles down at Mikal, "Around to doing the smart things tactically."
Mikal says, "Oh! The rakshasa, right." She shakes her head, "I, um... I don't think they want to hear it. The general Ravana Lord asked my questions of was snarly and upset, and didn't even answer them all."
Jareth nods thoughtfully to Mikal's concerns, chewing his bottom lip. If they're really going to be that way, he may well need to ply his charm.
Norris is following the crimson aethyr, trying to listen and parse all of what Mikal was saying...and then it hits him like a delayed reaction. Oh. Hugs. Hugs are good. That hug was good. Except it's the hug in the aftermath of that flustering thing Mikal said to him before bringing him into the tent and...yes, he's going to stop thinking about that right now. This thought process does not aid him figure out the creepy apprentice.
Mikal stops just before the tent, saying unhappily, "Wait, we shouldn't go in there -- they don't want to hear us."
Jareth says, "They sent for us, mon lapin."
Norris skids to a stop. "Wait, whut? But they dun called us. Why woul' they call us iffn they dun wanna hear us?"
Mikal hasn't quite figured out the tiger morphs can hear exceptionally well; she sounds doubtful, "Don't ask me, Bear. But last time I was in there, Ravana Lord was escorting me... and there were a lot of flattened ears and lashing tails. Was... kind of unpleasant, even though I tried hard to be nice."
Adramelech pauses at the tent flap, turning a little awkwardly with his large hooved feet as he waits for the group of mortals.
Mikal whispers to the others, "Um... who is this big guy again?!"
Norris clears his throat. "Well, at anneh rate, they did sen' fer us...so even iffn they wants t' tell us no, we should let em, an be done wi' it."
Jareth says, with assurance, "We'll be fine. Ravana sent for us." He kisses Mikal's temple and murmurs, "The apprentice Asmodeus was talking about."
Norris leans in. "An ex-god what wants t' exact vengeance." he says with some weight.
Mikal nods uncertainly, whispering, "Oh. Um... well, hopefully they won't take too long, and we can get off the mountain soon. This place is going to be extraordinarily dangerous, like I said, if the angels find a mortal with any tactical sense." She takes Jareth's hand tightly in her own, and when Norris leans in she takes his too. One deep breath later she murmurs, "All right... let's get this over with..."
Norris squeezes Mikal's had reassuringly.
Jareth settles his confidence around him and steps into the tent, chin up and smile in place, letting his arm slide away from Mikal in case she wishes to stay back.
Mikal smiles up at Norris, although she still doesn't look happy -- then she follows them into the tent. She stays well back, by the door; she's quite uncomfortable with the irritable rakshasa, and she doesn't want to look at a battlemap that she knows has really bad strategic issues -- that the rakshasa won't listen about.
Norris is oddly not as worried at Mikal...if the Rakshasa find it hard to change, then that must be doubly or triply true for the Angels. They sit in their city of perfection, assure of their ultimate rightness. Taking advice from a mortal? Unlikely.
The interior of the tent is much as it was when they first arrived; the battle map, however, has been moved off to the side, near the back. Also, it seems as if a great many raksasha are here besides the council of generals, as well as Asmodeus and a variety of beings who look like a handful of other Mazikin, whom Adramalech trods over to join. The space before the dais where Ravana is seated is left open, though Ravana stands at the dias discussing something at the last minute, and with great intensity, with a raksasha who appears to be of lesser rank than the others. As the mortals enter, though, he glances to them, claps the raksasha on the shoulder, then sits smoothly in the throne. "Come forward, mortals," he says regally and sounding quite pleased.
Mikal looks uncomfortable, glancing back towards the door a bit wistfully, then back at all the surrounding sceptres.
Norris's brow creases...he certainly doesn't *seem* unhappy. Maybe it's just pomp and circumstance? He steps forward with his friends, inclining his head respectfully.
Mikal stays tucked up close between her packmates, following them but no more.
Jareth steps forward with every ounce of confidence he can muster. Which is rather a lot coming from Jareth. "Thank you for your consideration, Lord Ravana."
Ravana stands, nodding to them. "You are very welcome.
"We have discussed this matter at great length. It was by no means easy," his eye goes over a group of generals -- the ones Mikal recognizes as being the 'growliest' ones -- whose ears and tails are drooped deferentially and admonishedly now, "and towards the end there had to be some... stark reminders of what the spirit of Lord Krishna's vow truly is.
"To let Azrael become the Throne of Death will mean to consign the souls of mortals to whatever the Architect has established for them in Hades. Mortals deserve the blessings of Hades, and Azrel will interfere with that.
"Moreover," and he looks at Asmodeus, "if the teachings of those faiths suborned by the Architect are any indication, it will mean a breaking of the Wheel of Karma and the ceasation of reincarnations. It will rob mortals of their birthrights, which the Architect has already trifled with.
"To this end, we have resolved that it is in the best interests of the Waking and the Dreamtime, of all mortals, aethyrs, and what gods survived the Architect's onslaught... that Raven be the undisputed Throne of Death, until such time as she may designate an heir or allies, as Pluto, Ereshkigal, Nergal, Yen-lo-wang, Anubis, Ghede, Baron Samedi, and many others did before her. And so, we will work to oppose, stymie, and somehow destroy the Architect's Angel of Death, Azrael."
Mikal raises an eyebrow, both surprised and pleased, but says nothing. She saw how well actually speaking went last time, after all. She knows now Jareth should do all the talking.
Norris is surprised as well...but oddly, does not fail to notice that while it is a very stirring speech, that nothing of any clear intent was said. Stop Azrael, yes, but how? He supposes it's more than he expected, after what Mikal said, that they *would* act. But if they have no clear strategy...
The unequivical decision to help makes Jareth's heart feel like it has skipped several beats. The burden of guilt he's been carrying about what he sees as his part in this whole debacle lifts a little and he bows deeply to Ravana, gratitude very clear in his voice, "Lord Ravana, your decision brings us great relief. You have our thanks." He takes the moment when he's bowing to get his face settled again before he stands straight again, "In return, we would like to offer what help we may in your own ongoing battle."
Mikal gives Jareth a horrified look, "What?!" then blinks and covers her mouth, looking mortified. She leans to whisper softly just to Jareth, standing on her tiptoes, "What are you doing, Jair?! I don't want us to die!"
Norris glances sidelong at his friends, but does not immediately interject...he seriously doubts that his charismatic friend has outright melee in mind, but doesn't want to stop on his words.
Jareth turns his head to murmur back to Mikal, "And if they don't accept our help, we don't have to give it, mon lapin. You have offered your help and we would not be useful in face-to-face battle. But perhaps we could help with the villages on the slopes."
Mikal whispers back, "Not if they won't listen again!" She hesitates, glancing around unhappily, then shakes her head once. Maybe Jareth has a plan; she doesn't know. She takes his hand and adds softly just to him again, "But you're the talker, Cat. I'll follow."
Jareth turns back to the rakshasa and says, "If there is help you would accept from us, that is."
Ravana looks at the generals with the drooped ears, rather more pointedly, and the generals in question look like they wish to melt through the floor. "That help would be greatly appreciated," Ravana says, and the generals are quick to nod, almost as one. He looks back at the mortals, sparing one last somewhat withering glance at the generals, before saying. "And what help Ninshubur has given is already very welcome. More would be even more appreciated.
"Lord Asmodeus of the Mazikin tells me that he has already spoken briefly of where Azriel's true name might be learned, or at least clues to it." He gestures to the side. "Vibhishana has volunteered to serve as the raksasha point of contact for this endeavour." The raksasha indictated inclines his head politely; his pelt is gleaming and immaculate and yet there is something about him that is similar to the dark-browed Ravana.
Mikal goes silent, gravely studying the rakshasa. As far as she's concerned, unless they have the mental flexibility to actually change, instead of just talking about it, they're doomed. She's determined not to let her pack go down with them. This current commentary from Ravana is welcome... but she's going to wait and see. She's also going to make sure, during the hunt Ravana promised her, that she manages to get taken by at least one of the areas the rakshasa general contemptuously told her was unsuitable for her stated intention -- and see if it actually is.
Jareth sees Ravana's look at his generals and just manages to not smirk. He reaches back for Mikal's hand. He nods to the rakshasa that has been pointed out as their liaison, "We are honored. And grateful. This issue strikes very close to home for us."
Mikal nods a bit grimly at that -- her pack's livelihood is as "home" as it gets, for her!
Norris is clearly wondering what he's missing with all the body language going on...he gets that the generals appear to have been browbeaten into submission by Ravana, but not the why behind it, or much of the background story. Of course, he's curious, but now is not the time to inquire.
Mikal glances (still a bit grimly) at Ravana, wondering what he's going to do next.
Ravana nods. "And as we thought upon it, we realized how much it struck home for us as well. Those who fight well, yet fall in battle, have earned their rest. The Architect would take that away." He stands. "Let it be so! The discussion is over, and our path is clear. We will fight as we did in Lanka so many kalpas ago!"
With a single cry of assent, then, the assembly begins to break up, each to their own usual tasks. Ravana and Vibhishana step forward with Asmodeus to the group of mortals.
Norris clears his throat. "We dun thank yew fer yer words an support, Lord. T'be honest, was more than expected." he says carefully, when all others have left.
Mikal stands on tiptoe, suddenly remembering something else she needed to say to Jareth, "Cat, also he promised to take me on a hunt, and he says he's a great lover of women too and wants to talk to you."
Ravana nods to Norris, saying grimly, "It is the least we can do, and if there is more, we will do it. There should have been far, far less discussion on the matter than there was."
Ravana doesn't seem to have noticed what Mikal was whispering to Jareth, but Vibhishana's brows seem to go all the way up to his ears upon catching what she said.
Jareth moves to be more beside of than in front of his mate and his friend, putting Mikal between himself and Norris if she'll let him. At her comment about Ravana being a great lover of women, Jareth feels a thrill of that strange jealous fear that he clamps down on hard and fast, irritated with himself. When Ravana approaches, Jareth says, "I hope your generals will listen with open ears and minds, Lord Ravana. Mon lapin has a great mind for fortification and protection. It is in her nature."
Norris opens his mouth, but halts his reply, listening to Mikal talking to Jareth...his ears redden, for reasons escaping him. Except that that seemed a very *interesting* collection of things to say in one breath.
Mikal blinks up at Jareth in startlement -- then lights up happily at his comment! She beams, turning to stand with a touch of pride between her packmates.
Norris clears his throat again, focusing on Ravana. "s'this to be our new focus, then? To seek th' name o' the Architects prideful assassin?"
Mikal looks up at the very tall rakshasa, glancing between them silently, then wondering if they're related. She glances over at Norris, shaking her head, "No, Bear. We should get the scrolls first, and see if there's a weapon there too... then maybe the name."
Norris unhuhs. "An where is this place?" he queries, looking between Mikal and the gathered worthies.
Mikal says, "Which? Angkor Wat's on the far side of this mountain, somewhere around where the angels are tearing the place apart, I think. I don't know where the information on the name is, though."
Norris's brow knits. This name is familiar to him...but oddly, only because he remembers it as being in a favorite game. "Whatzis Angkor Wat, then? Some holy place?"
Ravana nods soberly. "They will. Now. I had to clean some of their ears out with their own tails, but they will listen now." He puts a hand on Vibhishana's shoulder. "Please let me properly introduce you. This is Vibhishana. Though he fought against us in ancient Lanka, and was given kingship of that place after Lord Rama defeated us, a more honest and true and good-hearted raksasha you will not find. I am proud to call him my brother."
Vibhishana bows to the group again. "I am pleased to meet you." When he speaks he sounds remarkably like Ravana, their shared heritage now clear.
Asmodeus speaks now. "The location of the name is some distance from here. It is, in fact, located in the echo of Lanka, which Lord Ravana has just spoken of. Going to Angkor Wat may prepare you better for the journey to Lanka."
Mikal covers the smile at the thought of tigers cleaning their ears out with their tails.
Jareth can't quite stop his smile at the image that comes to mind at Ravana's somewhat hyperbolic description. He offers his hand to Vibhishana, "The pleasure is ours. And we give you our thanks."
Mikal murmurs a polite, "Vibhishana general and Ravana's brother; a pleasure to meet you."
Jareth's smile toward Ravana's brother is broad and warm and easily recognizable to his companions as his real smile.
Vibhishana smiles to Mikal. "The pleasure is mine, Ninshubur. Please accept my apologies and my brother's for the actions of the generals. They were out of line and had no right denigrating your ability or your generous offer of assistance."
Norris listens to Vibhishana's apology, absorbing what was said as he gets a clearer picture of what transpired. He finds himself relieved, at least, that Mikal seemed to hold her own against the generals, even if they did not treat her with respect. "So how's we get to this Angkor Wat, then? There a mountain path, or is we takin a special rakshasa shortcut?"
Mikal nods silently, unsure how to reply. Fortunately Norris's comment makes it so she doesn't need to.
Jareth has slid his arm around Mikal again and is staying very close against her side. This part he lets his companions negotiate. He knows it's not his strong suit.
Ravana says, "I wish there was a special shortcut. But of course there is not; no journey after power or wisdom is ever easy. We do not, fortunately, have to worry about angelic intervention. While Vibhishana goes with you, we are going to make a distraction the likes of which has not been seen since Babel fell."
Mikal leans against Jareth with some relief, then hesitates, thinking. There is one critical point that never got answered, that she really wants to know, which will determine whether she tries to hustle her pack away or not. Finally she looks up and murmurs, "Um, so, I never really got an answer before, please? Do you have some means of shielding the mountain from aerial attack?"
Mikal frowns thoughtfully, suddenly realizing a way for the rakshasa to do that, if they don't have one already. Interesting.
Jareth nods to the comment about the journey toward wisdom, "Knowledge that is too easily given is too lightly appreciated." He blinks at himself, not sure where that came from. People do just tend to give Jareth what he wants.
Norris looks curiously at Ravana. "D' yew really think it's likely that a host woul' attack us, just fer bein on yer mountain?" he queries.
Ravana smiles to Mikal, very tigerishly. "Something to that effect, yes. Naptha projectors, laced with saltpeter. It is... not perfect, of course. You see, we are very near the peaks of Mount Meru. Angels cannot fly much higher than the plateau we are on, much as they cannot fly over the wall into the Mirror. We can sometimes hit them with the naptha if we can lure them in close enough to the guard towers. But by the same token, few raksasha are crazy enough to stand in a wooden tower with a clay pipe full of soon-to-be-flaming naptha."
Mikal leans to whisper to Norris, "It's that they're already attacking on that side of the mountain, Bear!"
Vibhishana says in his gentle voice, "If you have a better sugestion, we very much would like to hear it, Rabbit -- may I call you Rabbit?"
Norris looks at Mikal, and nods. "But mah question does stand. Say fer a moment that no rakshasa accompanies us...we is jus' mortals happening t' be on th' mounting. Woul' the angels jus attack us fer bein there?"
Mikal tilts her head curiously at the rakshasa, "Have you thought of-" she blinks, cutting off as Vibhishana speaks, then looks a bit abashed, "I, um, well... maybe? Um..." she glances around, then adds a bit nervously, "Could we, um... maybe go sit down over tea or something?"
Mikal glances back at Norris, murmuring quietly, "If Janiel or the angel I scratched with the salt saw us... quite possibly."
Jareth says wryly, "I would not doubt that we are becoming rather known amongst the angels after our various... transgressions."
Mikal nods quietly, glancing over at Jareth too before she turns her inquiring gaze back to the rakshasa.
Ravana nods to Mikal, and gestures to outside the tent. "Yes, let's. I shall have lassi brought to us. As for if they would attack you, Bear, they may very well do so."
Vibhishana adds, "Or try to convert you." Asmodeus suppresses a shudder at that.
Mikal gives Vibhishana an amused glance, "It didn't work last time. I'm not sure why they'd bother again." She brightens, "Oh, lassi! That wine stuff you had? That was good. Thank you!"
Jareth's brows go up. Wine? There was no wine in the tent that he remembers.
Norris sighs. "Ah wuz just hopin...ah mean, not sayin' that ahm wantin t' be best buds, annat. But we aint done offered no direct vio...uh..." Crap. Mikal shot one of them. "Nivver min'." he sighs/
Mikal gives Norris a sympathetic glance, taking his hand with her free hand -- the other is still holding Jareth's. She murmurs softly, "C'mon, Bear. Who knows? Maybe next time we'll get another chance to try getting them to convert again, you know?"
Vibhishana smiles to MIkal even as Ravana has the good grace to look mildly embarrassed. "Actually, no, lassi is a sweet drink made from yoghurt and water and sugar or spices."
Mikal says, "Oh, all right." She gives Ravana a faintly amused glance, not missing the chance to add, "So is the promise for a hunt still good, or was that the lassi speaking?"
Ravana smiles. "Ah! Lassi is not alcoholic, Ninshubur. And the offer to hunt is always good for whenever you wish."
Norris shakes his head. "Ah aint expectin no durn, like... no bringin' angels t' our side. Is too much t' hope fer. Just hopin', beyon hope, t' avoid direct conflic' fer now. As tis, we's a mild annoyance. But iffn' we start gettin' in pitched battle..."
Mikal beams, "Excellent! You said right after the meeting with your generals -- will that still work?" Her grin gets a touch mischievous as she adds, "And can we go past the plateau where your people often meet the angels in combat, and the forested area which your general mentioned as being too close to here to use for ambush?"
Norris remembers what the sister said, about putting his gifted mace into the skulls of angels. He does not relish this. He will do what he must, to protect. But he will not be happy about it.
Mikal gently squeezes Norris's hand, murmuring softly to him, "We'll do our best, dear Bear. We know you're a peaceful soul."
Shortly, Vibhishana has ushered the group to a low table outside the tent, looking out over the slopes of Mount Meru. Large clay pitchers of lassi are there, as are cups; it is definitely not the wine that Mikal had earlier.
Ravana grins. "That would be perfect, actually, Ninshubur."
Asmodeus provides, as he affects a sigh as he sits on a cushion. "As for converting," he says, "It's that at some point they decide to 'convert by the sword.' That or you get one of the annoying but well-meaning ones who attach themselves to you and become your self-appointed conscience."
Mikal brightens in surprise, "Really?! Oh... wow, thank you!" Happily she settles between Jareth and Norris, enthusiastically adding, "If you want I'd be happy to talk about any tactical possibilities, then?" She blinks at Asmodeus, then giggles, "A... conscience?! How funny!"
Jareth has a strange image of a cricket and a strange urge to pull Mikal into his lap. He pushes both of those away.
Asmodeus's lips quirk but he doesn't let himself laugh. "I saw one poor mortal with one of those 'shoulder-angels' once. Of course said angel fled for the slopes of Mount Zion when it saw me, but I do not know how long it had attached itself to that poor fellow."
Norris smiles sadly at Mikal, but squeezes her hand back. And then he blinks at the image that gives. "They actually fit on th' shoulder? Or izzat one o' those...whatsis. metaphors."
Mikal is cuddled up against Jareth; she doesn't realize it but she's unconsciously trying to show she truly does believe her mate of choice is indeed powerful. She grins bemusedly at Asmodeus, not sure what a "shoulder-angel" is -- wouldn't you tip over if someone sat on your shoulder? -then curiously asks, "So I read once that the rakshasa have a mental ability to convince people that they're someone trusted. Is that true?"
Mikal blinks at Norris, then politely waits for his question to be answered first.
Asmodeus chuckles. "Oh, it is a metaphor, don't worry about that. They tried to actually sit on the shoulder once, long ago; it looked rather silly, though, since they had to make themselves appear so small, and nobody took them seriously, so they stopped."
Ravana does his best to hid his envy at Jareth cuddling so easily with Mikal; after all, he reassures himself that there will be at least a hunt with the lovely Ninshubur before they depart for Angkor Wat, and one more chance to make a significant impression upon the huntress.
Vibhishana asnwers Mikal, "Once we were able to. But it is little-known that this was one of the bonds Lord Krishna laid on us when we agreed to take up the fight against the angels. We may not use such trickery or illusions against mortals."
Norris considers that. "Tis too bad we caint get them t' do it again. Angels lookin silly c'd only help."
Mikal smiles, "Oh, good -- then you still have it. So you must know how to use it effectively. Why not use it to project over the mountain top? The angels trust that the jungled side of the mountain is not the crest, after all."
Jareth smiles, "But not all the inhabitants of this world are mortals."
Mikal looks at Ravana hopefully, "You must be one of the best at using it. Could you do it?" She nods cheerfully at Jareth's words, "Exactly!"
Asmodeus says to Norris, deadpan, "Silly, yes, but quite, quite annoying."
Ravana's brows go up as if he had not recognized this before, and his smile goes wi-i-ide. Vibhishana looks a little less enthused, but at least thoughtful. "Well... yes, that is a good point. To trick them into not attacking from that height."
Mikal grins, "And that way, if you had any archers...?" She lets the words trail off -- she's very much hoping the rakshasa have at least a few who do not depend on their rage for their ability to fight. Coaxingly she adds, "Wouldn't good distance weapons be useful against flyers, after all?"
Norris hmms at Asmodeus. "Only iffn' ya doan see the advantages. Is like th' ol stories about Anansi. Or the Hairy Man! Challenging him t' make all the rope in the village dissapear so the dogs dun get freed to save Wailee. Iffn' yew coul convince the angels t' make themselves small, then yew could throw a sack over em, tie it up, an walk away."
Mikal grins delightedly at Norris, "Bear! You're thinking tactically too -- good for you!" She sits up on her knees to throw her arms about his neck -- he's that tall, after all -- and happily adds, "I knew you could do it!"
Norris blinks. "Ah am?" And then he considers it. "Hey. Ah am." he murmurs in surprise.
Vibhishana nods. "We do have archers, yes. And some who use vajras, but mostly archers and crossbows."
Asmodeus chuckles quietly, raising his glass to Norris. "Intriguing, and in addition it appeals so very much to me."
Mikal beams as she nuzzles happily against her larger packmate, then settles down in her previous spot again, still nearly glowing with delight. To the rakshasa she cheerfully asks, "What's a vajra, please? Is that a lightning stick thing?"
Norris blinks. Wait, she's hugging again. Oh dear. But...hugs are good. "Ah figgered it would." he says, hugging Mikal back.
At the mention of stories, Jareth slowly chews his lip. "Tricksters are much honored in stories. Such as the rabbit that begged not to be thrown into the brambles." His only reaction to Mikal hugging Norris is to let go of her so she can do so.
Mikal cuddles happily up against Jareth, "Oh, I know that one! He was, um... Brother Rabbit!"
Mikal frowns thoughtfully, "No, that's not right... Brer, that's it!"
Jareth smiles and nods, "Making your adversary believe you fear something that you truly wish to happen."
Mikal grins at Jareth, "I always liked those stories, yes! Da used to tell me them. He said we should never forget there's always something bigger and stronger and toothier than us out there -- and so we should always think first."
Mikal glances inquiringly at the rakshasa, "So... vajra? And can any of you fly? And how do you get the angels to come down to you?"
Vibhishana nods, and reaches down, pulling what looks like a short rod from his belt. It appears to be held with one hand, and has two cage-like or claw-like decorations on each end; within each claw is a pearl that seems to glow softly. "This is a vajra. It is a comparatively simple one. The one that is believed to be in Lanka is a Brahmastra, a vajra created by the gods of Mount Meru."
Ravana says, "Some of us fly, but not all of us. Normally we get the angels to come down here by making not-so-veiled suggestions as to the Architect's parentage."
Vibhishana provides, "In other words, we insult them to senselessness. Which does not always work. Michael is notorious for being utterly immune to being goaded into something.
Asmodeus remains quiet now, apparently content to listen quietly.
Jareth looks at the interesting weapon, "That is... like a bow?"
Mikal reaches out curiously, "Can I touch it?"
Norris hnhs. "Mebbe Michael caint be insulted. But ah bet there's sommat what woul work against him. Course...Michael's an archangel. Wouldn't be too inclined to get within range o' his sword annehway."
Mikal glances over at Norris, "Does Michael turn up here much?" then looks back at Vibhishana inquiringly.
The raksasha nods to Jareth. "Yes, somewhat. It is... not really magic, rather another form of small bow that uses something other than arrows." At Mikal's question, Vibhishana blinks startledly, opening his mouth, closing it, then glancing at Ravana. The raksasha lord chuckles softly. "Ah... Ninshubur is not from our culture, little brother. I am sure she meant nothing untoward."
Far from looking offended, Vibhishana instead looks rather shy, and nods to Mikal, setting the vajra in front of her and being oddly careful to not be holding it when she touches it.
Asmodeus grimaces a little. "Ahf tsu loches, I can't seem to get away from him. Yes, he shows up far too much for my liking. Once every hundred Dawns or so, to see how things are going, and to get his flaming blade bloody."
Norris is thinking more about the whole combat with angels, and the idea of fighting smarter, not harder. Maybe if they fight smart enough, actual bloodshed could be avoided. What it comes down to is this: if the pack offers no violence, then the angels might be forced to treat them with honor and respect, rather than simply attacking them like they would any other enemy. But that recourse may be lost to them now.
Norris looks at Asmodeus. "What's his deal, then? What makes Michael tick?"
Mikal looks a bit puzzledly between the rakshasa, not touching the weapon, "Um... if I said something rude, I apologize?" She adds politely to Vibhishana, "Please feel free to tell me no, if it's not appropriate for me to touch your weapon?"
The odd little weapon is interesting to Jareth in a way that weapons normally are not. He's not even thinking as he reaches out and brushes a finger along it, examining the odd little lotus-shaped projections, "What does it shoot?"
Mikal taps Jareth's arm lightly, whispering, "Cat, wait! It might be... personal or something! Like soul connected, you know?"
Jareth jumps and flushes, "I am sorry! Weapons are..."
Vibhishana looks like he's blushing under his fur, while Ravana bursts into laughter. "My apologies, Ninshubur," he says. "I am not laughing at you. It is... a curious thing regarding such weapons that are like unto those of the gods, both vajras and chakrams. Because of their nature, they are moderately personal -- not so much that another can never touch them, they are simply an expression of one's identity. But there is nothing rude about touching it, per se. They are just also very... gendered. A vajra is very male, while a chakram is very female. I laugh not at you, but at the expression of my brother, when you asked to touch his vajra."
Jareth clears his throat, "I do not use weapons oftehn, Vibhishana."
Mikal blinks perplexedly at the two rakshasa for a moment... then looks relieved, "Oh! All right, I understand now." She smiles at Vibhishana, adding politely, "Perhaps I should not touch, then. Is it all right if you or Cat hold it so I can look closely at it? What does it do? How does it work?"
Norris is listening to this conversation, about the gendered vajra. And then he handles the massive two handed mace that he had been given. "Now this dun make me wonder iffn the feller what had this had inadequacy issues." he mutters to himself.
Asmodeus seems unafected by the somewhat mature conversation going on between the others. "He's a kvetch, never going to be comfortable or satisfied. I think that's part of what makes him an admittedly decent leader -- never satisfied with 'good enough.' 'Perfect' is good enough for him. Maybe. He's dedicated to the Architect and will likely always be. But more than that, he wants to win for the Architect."
Vibhishana nods, smiling shyly to Mikal. "Please, feel free."
Norris grimaces at Asmodeus, then. "Not a compromiser, then. Ah see."
Mikal gives one last curious glance to the rakshasa, then carefully and tentatively picks up the weapon. As she examines it she curiously repeats, "What's it do and how does it work, please?"
Ravana snorts a little. "I can assure you," he says wryly, "the raksasha who wielded that had nothing to compensate for. Sometimes, you really do need something large and very heavy to hit something with."
Norris says, "Sound an awful lok like th' angel MO. An the strongest of th' angels, like Michael an Azrael are gonna be th' most devoted to th' Architect's wishes.""
Vibhishana nods to Mikal. "It's not quite a mantra, not quite a mental command. It's more a gesture. Have you ever used an atlatl? A spear-thrower?"
Mikal thinks about that carefully... then shakes her head. "Doesn't ring a bell, sorry."
Jareth asks somewhat deferentially, "May... may I? Would it be somewhat like using a sling? Or throwing a dagger?"
Mikal smiles and offers it to Jareth, "If it's all right with Vibhishana General, sure!"
Norris looks chastised when Ravana speaks up, and realizes he'd been heard. "Ahm sorreh, Lord. Sometimes mah Wakin self encourages me t' say things what aint real polite. No dis'espect meant fer th' dead."
Vibhishana says, "An atlatl is a lever-arm. A short length of wood, with a notch on the very end opposite the handle. You set the base of a spear or a javelin in the notch, then you swing your arm. While you swing, you let the handle swing outward. It gives much more force to the spear.
"The vajra used by aethyrs and mortals is much the same. It is a lever-arm for lightning." He nods to Jareth. "Please, go ahead. And yes, it is much like a sling. Not so much a throwing dagger."
Mikal murmurs fascinatedly as she stares at the weapon, "Lightning! How very cool!" She beams cheerfully at the rakshasa, "How good is your aim with lightning? Does it actually go where you want it to?"
Vibhishana chuckles softly. "Usually! Like an atlatl -- or a sling, for that matter -- it takes some practice."
Jareth murmurs, "Mon lapin, may I see it?" He holds out his hand, still staring at it in fascination. He has used a sling many times in his work as a herder.
Mikal smiles again and sets it gently and with respect into Jareth's hand.
Norris considers, something tickling at the edge of his consciousness. About what Asmodeus said about Michael desiring perfection, and victory above all. There is a way to use that to their advantage, surely? But the answer is slippery, so he is quiet a moment, to see if he can make sense of it.
Jareth turns to the rakshasa and asks, "Would... can you show me how it works? I would like to try." To his surprise, it's true.
Vibhishana looks a little surprised at the request from Jareth, but he smiles and nds, "I'd be glad to,c ertainly."
Mikal brightens, "What a great idea! Vibhishana General, if you wanted to do that now, could I borrow Ravana Lord for a hunt?"
The group of mortals and aethyrs spend the winding hours of the day, as dusk comes upon the mirror and the light fades from the land, with Polaris high above accompanied by the magnificent zodiac coming into view as night falls. Conversation tends towards lighter topics for the time being, particularly when Asmodeus excuses himself for the evening. The next day will be promising to bring weighty matters as it is.
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