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2007-01-28
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Retired
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An Unfeeling Oracle
Phyx is delighted to have Jason there to play with. She immediately (and only not quite literally) drags him off, down to the jungley area, where he gets exuberantly chased around and occasionally tumbled by the energetic sphynx. Jason tries to use his brain more than his muscles, rather like the first time. He knows even if he was more athletic than he was, he still couldn't possibly beat Phyx on muscle power alone. She's admired him for his wit, his ingenuity, and possibly the fact that she actually got beat by him in chess. So he tries his best in these games to think like prey, and what prey would do to escape a hunter. He knows he can't elude her indefinitely, but he wants to lead her on a merry chase -- give her her money's worth, so to speak.
He rapidly realizes two things: one, Phyx learns fast! Repeating a trick more than once means he gets pounced on just that much faster -- and two, Phyx is utterly delighted with his efforts! Even when she catches him quickly, she seems quite thrilled that he's trying his best. However, after several hours of this Jason's simply pooped! Fortunately Phyx notices fairly quickly, and manages to curb her hunting desires enough to let Jason settle in the little chess pavilion -- where she has tea served and allows Jason to catch his breath while a chess game is set up. Jason is honestly enjoying himself as well... and certainly relieved she is far more like a friendly housecat, rather than the great cats of the wild. Further, while it does take the wind out of him to be pinned again and again by Phyx, it's not that bad afterward: feeling her lying on top of him, soft furred and purring contentedly at another 'kill.'
After that Jason is hunted in a slightly different way -- Phyx has obviously thought about her previous loss to him, and wants to play chess and figure out how to defeat what worked earlier. Jason sips at the tea curiously as he starts to lay out his defenses, wondering what sphynxes drink in the way of tea. Phyx has a wide, shallow bowl of tea, which she holds between her forepaws and laps up neatly while the chessboard is being set up. Soon thereafter she pats the pretty boy serving the tea (causing him to giggle as he sets the bowl to one side) and waves him off. Then she beams at Jason, her eyes gleaming and her fangs showing, "Excellent! Now we play more. Begin!"
Over the next several hours, one game runs into the next. At first Jason is worried that he seems to be doing so well, especially considering she's played the game more recently than he, even though he does have a talent for it. But she doesn't seem to be bothered at all, even after a dozen or so losses, her only response after each checkmate is to study the board intently before setting up the pieces again -- and then she gets him to a draw, and he notices her perking up. She no longer plays the same game, drawing on what she learns from him to set up new strategies, or sometimes just moving impulsivelyto break up a tactical advance. After thirty games she's won almost a third of the games, and after fifty, she's won half, and more than a dozen in the row.
Jason still tries his best, but he's racking his brains for new things to try, and is out of ideas... of course, he has played 50 games in a row. At game 51, both of them can see she's 5 moves away from mate inside of 5 minutes, and he concedes with a smile. "Maybe you should try a new game," he suggests as he collects the pieces. "Not suggesting you give up chess, but another game might help you to not only work different brain muscles, and also give your pets more variety to entertain you. Variety is the spice of life, I hear."
Phyx chuckles, rising up to stand on her low couch. She stretches leisurely -- front paws first, sharp jet claws extending as she yawns. Her pink tongue curls up between gleaming fangs -- then she stretches out first one, then the other hind leg. She sits then, her long, tufted tail curling neatly about her front paws, and grins at Jason, "Yesss... I think another game, indeed." She nods towards the board, "Be a dear and ring that bell, would you? We'll take a lunch break before we play our next game."
Jason leans over and gives the bell a tug. "I wonder why it is you feed off competition," he ponders thoughtfully, more to himself than anything. "Hell, I wonder why it is all supernaturals feed a different way." He scratches his chin. "Mike might know. Or, well, he'd at least come up with a good literary explanation for it."
The sphynx chuckles purringly, settling down on her belly with her front paws turned in. "What makes you think I feed on competition, pretty?"
Jason gestures. "Look at everything you do. You compete physically with your pets, and mentally too. It's not just that you're a hunter, though there is some of that involved. Hunters don't care so much about fair fights, about challenge. You like challenge. You want to win, but you want it to feel like an accomplishment." He smiles. "There's a lot of humans that don't see that any more. I think you do. I think you embody that desire for challenge."
Phyx grins widely, her fangs showing and her slitted golden eyes half closed in lazy pleasure. The sunlight on her hair and fur makes her gleam like polished brass. She purrs contentedly, "Humans don't see what, pretty pet?"
Jason comes over to kneel by Phyx, though he looks to her for approval before laying hands on her, unable to resist that silky coat on her flank. "That winning without challenge is nothing. That winning is an end in and of itself. If there's no challenge, then we've learned nothing from our success. A wise woman once reminded me that we learn more from our failures, than we do our success. You certainly did."
Phyx rolls on her side and purrs even more loudly as Jason strokes her fur. While he speaks with her, more attractive white-garbed young people set out a light meal of mostly finger foods in wide bowls on the former chessboard. It smells rather tasty, in fact. Jason picks up a grape and offers it to Phyx, grinning at the idea of feeding her. "I'm starting to think all of you are like that. You all represent something inside human nature. You're challenge. Chiron -- or rather, Phil -- is learning; knowledge, maybe. Beatrice is obviously lust. Fenrir... hmph. Hard to say. One of the darker aspects, maybe. Fear." He scratches his chin, "Or destruction. He symbolized the death of the Gods in human myth."
Phyx chuckles softly at Jason's words -- then her eyes widen slightly in pleasure as he offers her food. She nips it neatly out of his hand, her slightly raspy tongue flicking lightly over his fingertips, and chews it contentedly up. Then she reaches out a heavy velvety paw to draw his head close, nuzzling his cheek lightly once, running her tongue in a few quick swipes across his hair... she purrs, "Lovely boy, when you get to be my age, just remaining alert and interested can be a struggle. It's bright, intelligent young kits like you who make it more fun." She releases his head then, stretching out in languid grace, "Don't stop, lovely. This is incredibly pleasant."
Jason giggles at being licked and nuzzled... it's a little odd, though, because although a lot of her is feline, her head is not, so to be licked by a tongue from a human head does feel a little odd. He doesn't care to stop himself, offering her a morsel in between feeding his own face, his right hand continuing to stroke and scritch. "You asked me why Fenrir isn't more social... I think that's it. I think he does embody destruction, and he is enacting that role by seeking out and trying to destroy those like him, as he would have killed the Norse Gods. He looks at supernaturals as threats to humanity, but that's just the surface. That's just the justification in his own mind." He muses. "What would Croaker be? A Guardian? In the Divine Comedy, he was a guard in hell over the damned... and he certainly would protect Beatrice to the best of his ability... hmph."
Phyx is occasionally a little demanding -- she'll loop a paw around his hand if Jason doesn't feed her regularly enough to her tastes -- but she tends to chew thoughtfully as she ponders his words, and she's pleasantly distracted when he strokes her fur. She muses interestedly, "What would the actual cause be, then? Does the Fenrir despise himself as well?"
Jason shakes his head. "I don't know. Beatrice once said that he was hurt, caged by other supernaturals, but I don't know if she actually knew that, or if it was hearsay." He perks. "But you know, that would make a lot of sense, if he was -- the Fenrir of myth was, in fact, chained up by the gods. It could be that this story was unwittingly re-enacted after you all left... wherever it was you came from. It might have even been the actual Norse Gods, if they exist."
Phyx watches Jason with bright, interested eyes, resting her chin on her front crossed paws, "Pretty mortal, I wonder... why do you speculate? Why do you care about us?"
Jason regards Phyx, turning over many possible answers in his brain: because he loves one; because he's curious, and wants to know; because he is worried about potential human victims, deliberate or accidental; because a dream has told him he will bring them to safety. "I'm just that kind of guy, I guess." he finally responds after only a few seconds. "I feel energized and empowered by caring about others, and you do need caring about -- some of you more than others. While I don't know the nitty-gritty, it seems that we -- humans -- unwittingly created you. You are born of human imagination, and personify the most base and the most laudable aspects in us. We created you, and then abandoned you when we turned away from instinct and religion, and embraced reason -- and now you are lonely, all of you; some more than others, surely. Some of you have better learned how to survive and thrive in a human world. But you still crave contact, recognition -- with each other, and with the humans." Jason looks at Phyx with sad eyes. "Someone should care about all of you. And I guess, for now, that someone is me."
The sphynx looks a bit surprised... then smiles and reaches out, drawing Jason up close to her on the couch. She drapes herself half across him, purring contentedly and resting her chin on his chest as she rumbles softly, "What is your quest, sweet pet? What do you long to know?"
Jason groans at little wryly at such a big question, encompassing so many different levels that he doesn't know where to start. "A lot. Where you were. Why you came back -- or were forced to return -- and why you don't remember anything past the gate. But more than anything, I guess I want to know where I fit in. My ego's not that big, but I'm starting to think like I'm... I don't know... important. A lot of people wonder why they exist, and what their purpose is in life. And it's starting to seem like I might actually have one. So I guess that's what I want to know most of all. I want to know who I am, and what I'm to become." Jason is proud that he's only slightly disconcerted by the fact that Phyx draping over him thus involves some level of breastage squished against him.
The sphynx murmurs thoughtfully, her purr rumbling against his chest, "Where you fit in... hmm. Yes, I think we can do that. Who you are and what you are to become are contingent on that, after all." She sits up, stepping lightly to stand over him, studying the table intently for a few moments. Then she reaches out a paw and lightly taps the bell, calling, "Bring the Delphic tea, please!" A moment later a fresh pot of steaming, strongly scented tea is brought and poured out. The sphynx sits and calmly watches as her bowl is refilled, and Jason is handed a large mug. The young folk depart, with a few wide-eyed glances over their shoulders, and Phyx murmurs firmly, "You don't have to rush, but drink all of it, pet." She settles down and laps up her own tea as well, pausing often to inhale.
After several minutes of this, the sphynx's eyes are hugely dilated and her expression is rather dreamily purring. Her front paws, framing her bowl, are casually flexing, the wickedly sharp jet claws slowly emerging, then re-sheathing, and her tail swings back and forth in slow, lazy twitches. Jason is slowly, carefully sipping the tea, wondering about the 'delphic' aspect of it. The oracle at Delphi was certainly the same mythology as the Sphynx, but he didn't remember any aspect of it involving ingestion of herbs, or tea... as he ponders this, though, he quickly finds it difficult to ponder anything, feeling more and more relaxed... so relaxed at one point that he finds he can't stop grinning. It's not the same as the pleasure that comes from sex with Diana, or when she feeds him energy, exactly... is this what it's like to be stoned? Does he care? At one point he realizes he's still trying to drink even after the tea is gone, and he giggles.
The sphynx chuckles lazily, lying on her side with her head leaning back, looking upside down at him, "So, thinking about where you fit in, little pet? Go through the door over there and find out!" She waves a paw towards a little clump of trees nearby, although there's no door immediately visible. Jason blinks owlishly at the copse, and gets up without thinking too hard about it, wandering over in that direction curiously, his body feeling very light -- so light that a couple times he looks down to make sure his feet are still touching earth.
Jason hears a faint, curiously familiar sounding barking in the distance. It must be just past the copse of trees...? He walks a little faster, finding himself smiling again. "Hey, boy... are you come back to visit?" he calls out, suddenly sure he knows who it is as he moves quickly into the trees.
There's a gleeful white shape bounding dimly through the trees ahead of Jason. A moment later his suspicions are verified -- as an exuberantly panting, lolling tongued dog leaps out of the underbrush in a flurry of excited yips, aimed right at Jason's chest! Jason laughs even as that big muscle of a dog comes at him like a cannonball and knocks him over, weakly fending off the pit bull's exuberant kisses. "Okay, okay, I'm happy to see you too!" he laughs. The gleefully wriggling dog slurps Jason's face and yips happily at Jason, his heavy, clawed paws dancing all over the poor man's chest! Then the big dog dances away, yarfing excitedly -- then darts back and grabs Jason's short kilt in his teeth, tugging and growling excitedly. His tiny stump tail never stops wagging -- his entire back end, in fact, is wagging!
Jason normally thinks it's damned adorable how the dog's whole body gets involved when he's happy. Right now, feeling as he is, it makes him laugh joyfully. "Okay, okay, you silly mutt... I'm getting up already. What is it, huh? You have something you want to show me?" he queries, talking to the dog as he follows wherever the pit bull wants to go. The big white dog bounces exuberantly around Jason, yarfing happily, then darts off into the underbrush. The sound of twigs snapping and leaves rustling marks his trail. Jason follows readily, just happy to see the dog, not realizing how much of an impact the fellow had on him during their short time together -- and awful curious what the pup has to show him now.
It's as he's crawling through the path the big white dog has broken through the underbrush that Jason suddenly realizes the ground's not solid under him. Unfortunately, this realization hits after he starts falling! He abruptly feels like Wiley Coyote. "Why the hell did I look dowwww...!" he responds as he falls like a stone, flailing...
The fall is curiously dream-like, through a darkened, dirt-smelling, root-trailing tube downwards. Oddly enough, the more Jason flails the slower he seems to descend -- until he lands heavily on his rear, with a thump! He finds himself in a small dirt cave, grasping a short staff. Jason blinks stupidly at the staff, studying it. "Hunh. Well, it's not miniature, this time... " he murmurs as he gets up and dusts off his kilt, trying to get his bearings.
The staff is, on closer inspection, made of roughly hewn wood with a few leaves still on it. However, it feels warm in Jason's hand, almost as if it were humming softly. As he studies it, a deep, rumbling voice echoes all around him, speaking in some unknown tongue. Jason starts, clutching the staff to him, as he looks around. "Huh?" he says to the air. "I'm sorry, I left my Babelfish at home!"
As the last echoes of the deep voice die away, there's a slight creaking noise in the earth around Jason -- and then a long, twining root lashes out at Jason! It leaves a red welt across his skin, and a bit of dirt crumbles to the floor of the cave. Jason yeows! "Hey!" he protests, moving away from the root, brandishing the staff protectively as he tries to figure out both where this root is coming from, and which way he can depart the cave...
There's more creaking, groaning noises coming from the dirt walls of the cave around Jason. This time the root lash comes towards him from the left, and Jason tries to block the root with the staff. The root makes a sharp crack against the staff, then falls limp again. A heartbeat passes... then more earthy groaning from behind Jason. Jason whirls around, holding his staff out protectively, wondering what now... there's another sharp crack! as another root lashes out... and a heartbeat later, more creaking from the wall to Jason's left again. Jason looks around frantically for respite as he tries to block the new root, finding it very odd that it's dimly lit here, while the hole above is dark. As he defends himself with his new staff, he tries to figure out where the light comes from...
This time the root actually tugs on the staff a bit as it slashes at Jason. It's not actually clear where the diffused light is coming from, but Jason can hear the creaking again from the wall. If he turns to face this new sound, he realizes he's done a full 360 degree turn in defending from the 4 different roots slashing at him. Jason blinks at the tugging, and then takes more notice of the fact that the staff has leaves. "Wait, wait, hold up a second, here!" he calls out, then tentatively offers the staff to one of the roots.
The new attack comes from the first root which lashed Jason, and it whips out, curling around the short staff and yanking it easily out of Jason's hand. The staff thumps against the wall, a coil of the root trying to tug it deeper in the wall, and Jason can hear the soft humming from the staff go up a notch, sounding almost like the buzz of irritated bees. However, a heartbeat later and even over that sound, Jason can hear the wall creaking and groaning to his left preparatory to the root lashing out again. Jason suddenly wishes he was wearing more clothes. "Oh, for... what the hell do you want?" he demands, trying to dodge the root as he watches the odd, humming staff.
The root to Jason's left lashes out sharply, leaving another stinging red welt across his side. The root holding the staff twitches convulsively, and the staff's buzzing sounds more irritated... and now, behind Jason, the wall starts creaking again. Jason's eyebrows tilt at the angry staff. "Doesn't sound like it wants to go with you, folks..." he quips, and grabs for the staff, steeling himself for the attack as he puts all effort into freeing it...
Jason cries out as the root tries to stop him, striking his hands as he grips the staff... but the staff is warm against his hands, and seems to hum less. To him, this indicates the right thing to do. "No way, root cellar... the staff wants to come with me; it's coming with me!" he growls, tugging fiercely at the stave, trying to wrench it away. The staff comes away with surprising ease, causing Jason to stagger back almost drunkenly -- and accidentally blocking the root lashing out at him from behind! The staff has gone back to an almost contented humming... and a moment later the wall to Jason's left starts groaning again.
Jason doesn't wait this time -- he swings, attacking the root with his happy staff. "Stop! I didn't start this, dammit, but I'll finish it!" he growls, ready to hit any root he sees. As Jason lashes out, the staff's humming increases in tone, although this time it sounds less like an irritated hive and more like a great swarm heading together in a single direction. The root never even gets to move -- the staff's head slams into the dirt! A moment later there's a great crumbling of dirt and a low rumble... and Jason can see what looks like a low opening in the wall, half obscured by piled dirt.
The dirt wall to Jason's left starts to groan and creak. Jason blinks. And once more tries ignoring the root, while he whacks at the dirt with his bee-stick, trying to further expose the opening, as it might be a way out...
The root to Jason's side whips out with a sharp crack as it leaves another stinging red welt across Jason's side. That's three painful slashes he's received now... although he can definitely see there's a small, dimly lit room or hole through the opening. Jason crouches then, and, going stick first, prods it through the hole, trying to see if it's safe before squirming through to the other side... one of the walls behind Jason starts to creak again, and the staff hums quietly, brushing dirt aside effortlessly. Jason groans. "Stay and get whipped by roots, or dive into the unknown... I choose the latter," he grunts, and crawls into the opening as quickly as he can manage...
Jason crawls forward, then suddenly tips into the room as the dirt under him gives way! He whoulfs and tries to arrest his motion, before gingerly picking himself up. "Okay... where are we now..." he groans, squinting as he looks around at this new room.
Jason finds he's in his dorm room, back in college. Diana's lolling lazily on the bed, an open ledger book before her. She looks over and smiles, a red-tipped quill pen in one graceful hand, "What're you doing, pet? Have you decided to quit worrying about things, and to come settle down comfortably with me at the bar?"
Jason blinks bemusedly at this Diana... or not Diana? He's not sure what he's facing right now, still feeling muddled. "You're the one that wanted to leave. I would have went wherever you went," he murmurs, looking absently at his staff. He's still holding it, although he appears to be wearing his ordinary clothing. Diana laughs, and when he looks back at her she's nude, rolling off her stomach to sit on the edge of the bed, long legs attractively crossed, leaning back a bit on her hands -- which does rather nice things for her breasts as well! "Pretty pet, wouldn't you like to just relax and let me take care of you? We're wealthy enough to keep you well cared for. Isn't that what we all want?"
Jason would never get tired of looking at Diana's body, smiling as she shows herself off for him... but even as he does, he's shaking his head. "But if we stayed here, we'd never find out the answers we want," he protests. "This is supposed to be important to us, remember?" He pulls his eyes off her long enough to glance at what she was writing. Diana's doing the books for the bar and, as expected, it's doing quite well financially. It would be easy to stay here and be a cherished, comfortable, well-kept pet... especially when Diana pats the bed next to her and smiles that lazy, smoky-eyed smile... Jason wants to give in. He wants to be with Diana, has always wanted this... but this feels wrong. It doesn't feel like her, and reminds him of the Inferno, where Beatrice asked the same thing of him. "No. No, this isn't right. We're not done. We have to find out where you came from." He shakes his head, going to the door.
The door's ajar; Jason can see the dirt cave beyond. Behind him Diana murmurs softly, "I could have been, just a short while ago... but you're right. We're just beginning." As Jason steps through the door he can hear the staff humming softly, almost cheerfully in his hand -- and he's standing in the dimly-lit little hole in his now-somewhat-dirty white toga-skirt-thingie. The wall next to him groans and creaks quietly.
Jason groans a little. "Great. I walk away from sex with Di back into welt country," he grumbles, but knowing it was the right thing to do. He attacks the wall next to him with the stick, trying to see if a blow will reveal a new opening. The staff continues to hum cheerfully, and the root never gets a chance to strike -- instead the wall crumbles swiftly, much like the last one.