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biilziebub-rakdos · 7 days ago

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As we walk onto the deck of the ship, the rocking and shaking… fairly effectively takes me out at the hooves, sending me sprawling to the ground. The continued motion, combined with the booze that still really hasn’t left my system, is very effectively keeping me pressed to the deck, stomach rioting, unable to hear the conversation going on between Rune and the captain, Bliss.

By the time their conversation is over and Rune has left, Bliss is just… watching me, faintly amused. "Right, well. Welcome to High and Dry, Biilziebub. Let's get something other than alcohol and blood into your stomach, yeah?" She calls for a member of her crew, and sends them off below deck to get rations.

"Do you think that you'll be able to move from there, or are we staying at the railing this fine evening?"

”… I don’t. Like. Boats.” My words are just a little bit trembling, and I am flatly refusing to look in any direction where I’d be able to actually see the ocean below me. “Or this much water.”

"Would you rather be below deck where you can't see the water? I can get ye a bucket. But it is more cramped down there, so up to you."

“Yes. Yes. Lead the way.” I’m nodding quite fast, stomach churning, trying not to let my mouth be open too much as she gets up from where she was leaning against the railing and gestures towards a set of stairs descending below the deck. The whole way we go, I’m clinging to the railing, the walls, anything I can hold onto, my hooves trembling and threatening to give out. She scoops a bucket from a corner on our way down, and gets me situated in a chair safely below deck. I do seem to have relaxed, just slightly, when the water left our sight.

“… thank you.”

"Of course. Sit and catch your breath, then try and drink some of this." She passes me a mug of some kind of juice, taken from the crewmate she had sent off earlier. I take it and press my back against the wall to drink it down, eyes closed, whole body shaking a bit. It’s… odd, clearly an Ixalan thing. Sweet, a bit sour, distinctly pulpy. It’s good.

“… thank you. Again.” My voice is still very much rough, but I seem on my way to improvement. Recovery, maybe.

She nods, half listening as she breaks the piece of hardtack she was given into smaller chunks. "Take some deep breaths, Biilziebub. You'll be alright. Let's get you something on your stomach, shall we?" She passes me a small chunk of the thing. It's not the most appetizing thing I’ve ever seen, it’s not particularly appetizing at all. But it's not alcohol, or flesh, and it *is* cooked. I take it in one hand, and—maybe scratch that comment about improvement. The tack is combusting as I grab that bucket and put it to use. I’ll try again once I’ve finished.

The captain shakes her head slightly, amused, and gets up, walking over to a nearby barrel of water, and dipping a rag in it before returning and handing it off to me… once I’ve finished heaving. "You're really reminding me of the first time I set foot on a ship. I'd never seen water bigger than a bathtub before, can you believe that?"

“My home plane doesn’t have oceans. The only aboveground water outside of some Selesnyan ponds is the Zonots, and that’s still indoors.” My eyes are closed and my breath is… maybe starting to even out, my hand squeezing that rag until steam hisses out.

"It's... Ravnica, isn't it? I was only there once, for a few hours… I just thought I was in a big city. Though, from what I've heard, the city is the whole plane...?" She tries again to get a piece of hardtack into me, hoping that this one won't turn to ash like the last. It doesn’t, in fact, even successfully getting to my mouth, though she can see the clear distaste as I chew through it.

“Ravnica. City the whole way round, everything but the moons that isn’t Rubblebelt… and Rubblebelt is temporary”

She shakes her head, bemused. "And here I thought Paliano was massive. I can't even imagine what a city the size of a whole plane would be like…" She grabs a pitcher of the juice, refilling the cup and passing it back to me. "Drink, it'll help wash it down. Lords know it isn't the most appealing food in the world. But it will last damn near forever."

I give a slight nod and empty the cup again, slowly working on moving from the bench to the floor, my breath ragged but under control. “Paliano. That’s where you’re from?”

She nods. "The largest city on.. Fiora? I think they're calling the plane?" The cup is refilled, and I’m taking the chance to just cycle through tack and juice until one runs out. "... Before you get your hopes up, I don't believe infernals like us are very common there. As far as I know, I'm one of a kind. Hooray."

That gets a sharp laugh out of me, just a little bitter. “I haven’t found anyone quite like either of us yet, on any plane. Smarter than an imp, smaller than most devils, too human-shaped to be a demon.”

"We're truly few and far between, aren't we? I think there's at least one more of us on these communicator things, isn't there?" The captain searches around in her pockets for a second, before pulling out a thick bracelet with a small, smooth stone on the inside. She tosses it to me. "Put that on, with the stone on the inside of your wrist. It should help with your seasickness."

“Seasickness?” But I’m putting it on, inhaling deeply through my nose, exhaling a stream of sparks from my mouth. I already look better. “… I haven’t been on my communicator in… a while, now.”

"The rocking of the waves is making you a little nauseous, right? Seasickness." She grabs another rag, quickly rubbing a small bit of something off my face before I can stop her, though I do provide some initial resistance. "I think you've probably missed a few things. But I haven't really been paying attention. I know you have people looking for you though."

That gets a snort, derisive and a little disbelieving. “Oh I’m sure. Bappy wants his arm back, Kilik wants to stab me, and Leta wants her punching bag. I don’t even have mine. Just put it down and left, haven’t been to Ravnica since.”

She shrugs, unable to confirm or deny the feelings of people she barely knows. "Do you need a replacement? I have a crate of the things I just can't seem to get rid of."

“… yeah, probably for the best. Ravnican or Capennan?” I’m sitting up, stretching a bit, rolling my neck to a chorus of crackles. The seasickness is clearly much-improved.

"The differences are lost on me, but I picked them up on Avishkar, if that helps you figure it out." She grabs one and tosses it to me, and I boot it up, starting to root around a bit.

“Capennan ones are basically just spyware, Avishkari are better on that front, but harder to explode than Ravnican. Thank you.”

She nods, glancing at her own communicator in interest. "Maybe you can give me a rundown of some of the features of this some time in the future. Technology on the more advanced planes escapes me..."

“I’m pretty good with tech. And… mmmh, probably should set mine back down. Gotta keep the people wanting more, yeah?” I flash a pleased, somewhat malicious little smile as I turn mine off and set it down.

"The angel. He's the one who sent you down the road that brought you here, isn't he?" She’s not asking so much as telling. "... actually, it's probably better to hear it in your words than try any guessing on my part. Are you ready to talk about it, or do you want some soup first?"

“Kilik,” I overpronounce it slightly, each syllable dripping with venom, “helped me to remember my place. Remember who I am.” The sickness is gone now, the weak boy replaced with a more… proper version of myself. The imperious Prince, knowingly superior to some bastard angel.

Bliss just fixes me with a distinctly unimpressed look. "You've got crumbs all over your face."

… my entire head is on fire for a moment, burning the crumbs away. There’s. Still a little ash, which she once again goes to brush off my face with the rag, shaking her head.

"No need to pull the dramatics with me, your highness. You've got nothing to prove right now."

“… fine. Point remains. Kilik helped me to remember that I am, in fact, the prince of the Cult of Rakdos, and that I should be indulging, not letting myself become dependent on people like him”

"Certainly seems to me you've been overindulging a little. But, you are a prince, so who am I to say what's too much?" She pours another cup of juice, for herself this time. "All I know is that by the second day of waking up with a hangover covered in blood, I think I'd probably call it good enough rather than keep digging the hole I put myself into."

“Speak for yourself, covered in blood is a great way to wake up. The hangover, less so, but still.” Of course, if I really wanted to keep the party going, I probably wouldn’t’ve come here with Rune. “That does remind me though, while we’re keeping people wanting more…” I pick the communicator back up, type something, set it back down.

"I've woken up covered in blood. It was mostly just sticky. Really not worth trying to get it out of your hair." Once I set down the communicator, she gently puts a hand over it. "Slow your roll a bit. They're already upset. Teasing them is just going to get them worked up."

“Not *teasing* them,” I smirk a bit and shrug dismissively, “not this time, at least. Just throwing them off the scent a bit. But, alright. No more communicator for now. I’m here. On the ocean. In a tiny wooden box.” And starting to get a little more nervous as I keep listing things, glancing around myself.

"If the tiny wooden box part is bothering you, we could try the deck again. But the ocean is there, I'm afraid."

“Of course it is. Paving over it isn’t an option?” My smile is thin and mildly desperate, but I have to joke to cover up any actual feelings I may be having.

Bliss’s smile back is a little regretful. "I don't think there are enough cobblestones in all of Ixalan to cover this ocean."

I maintain a tense little nod, mouth closed tight. “Of course. Something to import, then. So, you mentioned soup?”

"Promise you won't throw it up all over my ship and it's all yours."

“Best I can. This bracelet is… definitely helping. Thank you. And what… happens, on here?”

"On the ship? Smuggling mostly, at this point." She frowns as she speaks, tail twitching in annoyance. "Now that we've decided to be the Navy around here, there's a lot less piracy to go around."

“I know a bit about smuggling.” I give a sage nod and let my wings flutter once. “Just… just gotta get to know the ocean.”

"If you want to learn, I'm willing to help you. It's beautiful. And terrifying, at times."

“You know, that’s just what they call me back home. Lead the way?” Bravado is good. Is healthy. Is me saying that I’ll be fine, probably.

The captain sits on the railing next to me, gently ruffling my ash coated hair as I lean over the railing of the ship.

"I know it's difficult, when the people you care about don't understand why you're doing what you're doing." She carefully brushes the ash out of my hair as I once again lean heavily over the side, giving in to seasickness. "But you owe it to yourself to try and heal that bond with them. Running yourself ragged jumping around the planes to avoid them is only going to burn you out and leave you feeling empty."

She passes me that mug, freshly filled.

"You're a good sort, kid. I know you're a prince, and you have your father's legacy to live up to, but you have time to earn that reputation. You don't have to try and do it all in one week. And you shouldn't destroy all your relationships to do it. No man is an island, and you're going to need those people to support and help you when you need it." She passes me another chunk of hard tack, which unfortunately does help settle my stomach. "And you're lucky that they're willing to forgive you for what's happened, and what you've said to each other. That's a rare thing, you know that? You should try and hold onto them, if you can. Good companions are hard to come by, and wasted if you kill them or throw them away." She just keeps rubbing a hand on my back as she talks and I lean over the railing. "Go on, let it out kiddo. Better out than in."

“Why is there so much sky…?” My voice is thin and reedy, my hands squeezing the railing hard enough to smolder.

"Because there's no buildings around to block the horizon."

Any snarky remark dies on my tongue, partially because I’m throwing up again, but mostly because, well, she’s right.

She pauses as she thinks on finding a distraction for me. "So. I'm going to pry, your highness, because Rune has lead me to believe you need some help. What happened with your companions that sent you to me? Other than your angel friend apparently 'reminding you who you are'."

“They just… took up headspace. Kept me distracted, kept me arguing over everything I was doing or trying to do. ‘Ohhhh, you can’t eat people! You can’t let Kilik be sad! You can’t fuck Zilortha!’ It was exhausting. I mean, Koda was chill. But still, I needed the break!”

She nods along, raising an eyebrow at the Zilortha comment, but ultimately letting it pass. Mostly because she doesn't know who that is. "That, I understand. It can be a lot when people don't understand why you're doing what you're doing."

“Exactly! Then Kilik was ready to smite me, and I just… left.” A little shrug, pointedly ignoring the emotionality of the leaving and the fact that I fully dropped my communicator. “So, now I’m here”

"He was going to *smite* you? That's intense... No wonder you felt you needed some space." She gently ruffles my hair, trying to get some of the ash out. "If it helps, it seems he's been tearing himself apart over it."

“I- you don’t have to *preen* me.” Even if I’m enjoying it, even if my wings and tail have been twitching to reflect that enjoyment.

"You need preening. And you're barely in a state to stand by that railing. So it's gonna happen, your highness." She continues trying to get me cleaned up, little by little. "You should probably prepare yourself for some apologies. At least to Koda, since you said he's cool. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but you're going to want those relationships back."

Between the ashy hair, bloodstains, other kinds of stains, and general grime, it looks like the only thing I really take care of is my hurdy-gurdy. “… fine. About both things.”

"I know you're trying to prove yourself right now. From what I understand about your group, you've got a big reputation to uphold, and big shoes to fill."

“… dads been guildmaster for ten thousand years, and he’s 30’ tall. Hottest man on the plane, yes.”

"But you're going to need these people. No man is an island." She licks her thumb, and rubs some grime off my face. "No king rules alone. And there's no point in ruling with fear alone. A good captain knows that the real path to loyalty is through affection. Rune and Crow sent you to me. And by the gods I'll make a captain out of you by the time you're ready to leave this place."

”… I’m gonna hold you to that, captain.” A little smile and a firm nod, standing up properly, my wings flaring out to full size. It’s a confident and imposing figure… just… maybe ignore that my eyes are closed.

She ruffles my hair again, clearing it of the last traces of ash. "You can call that your first lesson. Good companions are hard to find. If you've found people who are willing to forgive you for what you've done? You should hold onto them. It's going to be embarrassing at times. Apologizing can suck. But without people behind you, you'll just burn yourself out trying to become who you think you should be."

My hair, clean like it is now… for now… is pitch-black and incredibly soft. “Alright. There’s lesson one. I… think this might actually go well.”

"You've got so much potential, kid. I think if we point you in the right direction, you're going to flourish. Hopefully you'll even put your father to shame." She leans against the railing next to me, gazing out at the horizon. She tilts her head to enjoy the sea breeze. "I think you're gonna enjoy piracy. The perfect amount of blood, violence, and alcohol fueled debauchery... mixed with enough hard work that you feel like you've earned it all. Plus a whole crew behind you to share in your victories with."

”… alright. That… doesn’t sound too bad at all.” And I let my eyes crack open, let myself look out across the sea, through the sky, towards the horizon. A new chapter in my story. A whole new world to explore.

And I promptly hurl over the side again.

#Captain Bliss #planar posting #ravnica posting #ixalan posting #fiora posting #vorthos #magic the gathering #mtg #mtg rp #pirakdos

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biilziebub-rakdos · 9 days ago

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I let out a low groan as my eyes slowly open, barely able to stomach actually looking around the shitty little room I’ve got in some Akroan equivalent to a motel. I can feel the slab of minotaur next to me, feel the bed, feel the sting of the weak sunlight hitting my eyes directly through the window. Feel the percussion tango reverberating in my skull. Feel the buzz that hasn’t escaped last night’s little party yet. Turning away from the window, there is someone on the chair in the room, shuffling a weird-looking deck of cards. The wing that isn’t against the bed puffs up in something almost capable of being an intimidation display, but they barely respond.

“Good morning, Prince of the Cult Rakdos. I’ll trade you my old man's hangover cure for a few minutes of your time.”

My wing goes a bit limp again as I see that they aren’t threatening… at all, really, but definitely not actively threatening me. “This… can’t be weirder than Zilortha. Fuck it. What do you want?”

They smile at me, cryptic and annoying. "The name's Rune, and this is Crow. You already know of us, but this is the first time you've gotten to meet me in person. I've already seen you in person a few times, but for the sake of your hangover, I won't get into that just yet. You may wanna sit up for this, Crow's givin' you way more than three cards to help ya sort out this mess."

“… yeah. Fine. Ok. This might as well happen.” I push myself to sit up, very nearly keel over, and just… get my hooves to the floor. Lower myself down onto it. Eyes closed, breath forcibly held steady.

Rune, meanwhile, just reaches into their bag on the floor by their chair and takes out a clear bottle filled with… some kind of liquid. "It ain't gonna taste too good, but it'll sober ya up more than ya think," they warn as they hand it over. "And try not to melt it, plastic can't handle heat and I don't need ya makin' yourself sicker."

“I can almost guarantee I’ve eaten worse. Probably within the last day.” But when I crack it open and chug it down, I still give a shudder that climbs down my spine, across my wings, down to my hooves and the tip of my tail. “… not great.”

"The worse it tastes, the better it works," Rune chuckles. They gesture for the chair across the table from them. "Once you feel like you can stand, have a seat and I'll let Crow get started."

Mostly just to spite them, I’m all but crab walking to and into the chair, managing not to actually stand the whole way. Once I’m sat… I just nod, once, stomach twisted into a handful of knots.

Rune finishes shuffling the deck and sets it down in the middle of the table. On their own, cards start to launch around the table, landing face-down. There are four cards in the cardinal directions, with two between each of them to create an interconnected web akin to the rim and spokes of a wheel surrounding the unused cards of the deck in the middle.

“… cartomancy. Alright. Every Ravnican street corner has three people exactly like you.” That’s spite and the remains of the hangover, snark leaking out with my headache.

Rune shrugs. "I never promised that what me and Crow do is unique, folks just get surprised when they see it." They reach out and flip over the cards in the cardinal directions first.

The closest card to me is the Knight of Wands, the artwork shifting to depict me in strong reds, oranges, and greys akin to something between fire and impressionism. I nod approvingly as I see it, admiring the art of my own depiction.

The card closest to Rune and opposite of me is the Knight of Swords, whose artwork shifts to depict Kilik in clean, minimalist blues and white. As I watch Kilik take shape, my approval twists into a sneer and a low growl, a few embers starting to glow in my hair.

The card to my left is the Knight of Cups, which alters itself to look like Leta in blues, reds, and white and in a more realistic style. And the card to my right is the Page of Swords, which turns into a white, blue, and black version of Koda in the traditional ink drawings of Kamigawa. I start cooling down as I see these, recognizing that, somehow, I don’t really dislike either of them. I guess. So… I watch. Settle a bit, my tail twitching on the floor behind the chair.

“Alright. Little bit heavy-handed, but I see what you’re getting at.” This is, it seems, the best Rune can get from me for now.

"Crow likes to be blunt," they acknowledge. The other cards are flipped one by one, each one creating the bridge between one person's artwork and the second person's. The cards individually do not mean as much as the clear visual tell—there's an interconnected web between the four people that Crow has chosen to depict, with each of us influencing each other despite all of us butting heads.

“… fine. The cards are pretty cool.” This feels like a tremendous concession on my part, mostly because I’m not really willing to admit that I am… very much intrigued by all of this.

"We're just as much showfolks as we are storytellers," Rune admits with a slight incline of their head. "So. Do you want the play-by-play or do you want me to just be blunt and get to the point?"

“You’d fit right into the Cult. I… I’m not gonna remember this in three hours. Gimme the important bits.” I give a somewhat dismissive wave of my hand, tilting my chair back.

And so, Rune does exactly that. "All four of you are goddamn messes and your relationships to everyone here - and everyone else's relationships to each other - are incredibly messy, yet also really, *really* intertwined at this point."

With an annoyed little grunt, I pick up an amphora of mead from the floor by the bed and lift it to drink… or, perhaps, to bring it to my mouth, pause, and set it back down with a sigh. “Not sure how ‘entwined’ I’d call myself, but messy… can’t argue with messy.”

"Look, buddy. You hurt others. That's what you do for, I don't know, your entire job. I understand that it's your *thing*. But like it or not, these folks - well, except Leta - care for ya. You hurt each other, you'll probably hurt each other again. But you like each other. Maybe not in that fancy romance type way, but you *do* like these folks."

While I am fully aware that they might not exactly be wrong… that doesn’t make them all the way right. Or at least, not in ways I would admit. “I don’t like Kilik. The bastard”

"Mhm. Sure. Tell that to somebody who can't read the narrator's text and tell that you're obviously lying."

“… I think I need more of that hangover cure.”

"Relax, you're gonna go from here and go talk to a nice pirate lady and get some fresh air, but only after we're done. Until then, you and I are gonna keep chattin'."

“… nice lady sounds good. Fuck it. Alright. Everyone hurts everyone, way of the world. Worlds. And?”

Rune grimaces as if they know what's coming next. "Unfortunately, you've gotta do the morally reasonable thing and apologize, because you ain't just hurtin' Kilik when you go on a bender like this, and Kilik ain't just hurtin' you. I ain't askin' ya to be a saint, I'm tellin' ya that you're hurtin' a whole lot more folks than you think. And hurtin' folks unintentionally sucks."

“But I like hurting people. It’s fun. And I don’t have shit to apologize for.” Sparks are crackling in my hair, floating around my horns, but Rune just reaches over and pats them out.

"I know, buddy. But you're hurtin' Koda doin' this too, and that little shit still owes you a date. Trust me on this, don't burn that bridge until he gets to cook for you."

“… he does.” And him… whatever my thoughts on Kilik, I do like Koda. I just don’t… I don’t like liking people.

Rune nods, shuffling more of Crow's deck besides the cards they’ve already laid out. "Here's the thing, sweetpea. Goin' through life without connections? It drives ya mad. I'm talkin' from personal experience. Why do you think me an' Crow are so close? Point is, you have connections. You have folks who like you. You can push them away, but that'll only hurt ya more. I'm not sayin' you gotta turn full everybody-getting-along tree-hugger, I'm just sayin' that you've gotta recognize that you've got people willin' to accept murder because they like you."

“… still don’t see the big deal about murder.” But I’m starting, starting, to get the big deal about connections. Starting to understand the importance. I’m leaning back a bit, on the ground now, one leg stretched forwards, the other tucked under it, not looking directly at Rune… but still listening.

Rune shrugs. I don’t really know this, but they are a sentient narrative tool, and arguing the ethics or lack thereof for murder isn't their job right now. "Point is. Folks care about ya. Other folks hate ya, but that means they're also invested in ya. You're allowed to care about folks too. Ain't that the big ol' thang that y'all're trying to get through the thick skulls of folks like Kilik and Koda?"

And that gets me to actually flinch. Their little reminder that, for all my talk about disliking people, for everything I say, sometimes I have to take the advice I try to give. Sometimes I have to do what I told Kilik to, and let myself feel emotions. “… everyone’s invested in me. I’m the Prince of the fucking Rakdos.” And I’m deflecting from the relevant part of this, twisting a flame between my fingers, the chair I’m sitting on starting to smoke just a bit. “Besides, Kilik has decided against listening.”

"Lover's spat," Rune chuckles as they watch the flame. "You ain't gotta convince folks to forgive ya, sweetpea. You just gotta say what you mean with your whole chest. Clear the air. Apologize where it's needed. Make amends if you can, agree to disengage if ya can't." That final word sounds more like "caint" thanks to Rune's strong drawl. "You and Kilik, you're both volatile. Headstrong. Powerful. You butt heads because you're so alike—why do you think you both got Knight cards in this readin'?—and you get under each other's skins because ya do it best, even when ya don't intend to. Exact same reason why ya both get into it with Leta."

“Knew I got to Leta” I’m sitting up a little bit more now, my gaze low. “Alright. Fuck it, I guess. Sayyyyy what I mean. Never did like lying. And then… what? Things just start working themselves out?” It seems like I less believe them and more… well, want them to be right, or at least want my view of what they’re saying to be right.

Rune sighs, fidgeting with the edge of one of Crow's cards but not flipping it. "Oh sugar, that's where the hard part comes in. You gotta not just say what you mean, you gotta stick to it and not back down when someone is either surprised or mad. You gotta be willin' to make things work with the folks you care about. You gotta be willin' to meet them halfway. There's a song about that, where I'm from. And a phrase about it takin' two to tango. In your case, it's more like a small harem of situationships, but that's beside the point."

“Sounds… honestly… doesn’t sound all too bad, mostly. Just keep things going? Stick to my… whatever. That’s shit I can do.” And it’s so much more complicated, really, but I don’t look like I’m ready to hear that quite yet.

Rune raises a brow. "You're deflecting," they say. "Come on, sweetpea. What's really botherin' you? The sooner you face it, the sooner you make sense of it. And besides, it ain't like me an' Crow are gonna make fun of you for it."

My eye twitches slightly at the prodding, but… “… I’m the son of Lord fucking Rakdos. I’m not supposed to be… I’m not supposed to be palling around with some dickbag angel, helping people, I’m supposed to be having fun! Partying, killing!” Im standing up now, my wings fluttering, my hair catching fire properly. “This… roaming the multiverse for the next meal, the next fuck, the next victim. That’s what I’m supposed to be doing. And they have NO FUCKING RIGHT to start complaining just because they thought they knew me.”

Rune just… nods, unconcerned about my flames. This seems to be what they had been waiting for, the actual core of the issue. They set down Crow's deck, the cards remaining still in the middle of the reading. "Does it make you happy? Genuinely, truly happy? Or do you do it because it's what you think you're supposed to do?"

“Of course it makes me happy!” With a laugh that feels half performative and half deranged, a grin that reveals bloodied teeth that all look too big for my mouth. “If I didn’t like it, I never would’ve gotten so good at it. It just…” my voice is quieter now, “doesn’t make me happy for long…” The flames are starting to simmer down, still burning hot and bright, but barely cresting my horns. I’m not facing Rune. Not looking at them. Not letting them see.

Rune just waits. This is the part they can’t force, the part where I, their querent, work through the realization on my own. They do not judge, they just wait. Even Crow's cards remain still.

“So why the fuck,” another laugh, this one thick and wet and almost ripping my throat, “why the fuck do they make me happy for longer?”

Rune reaches down into their bag and removes a metal bottle. Inside, though I don’t know it, is simply well water from their home, but they set it down where I can reach it if I want it. And still, they wait.

A strange curl of flame rises from the ground below the bottle, lifting it up into the air, nearly tossing it into my waiting hand. I’m not looking back to them, still facing resolutely away as I gaze down to the bottle, ear twitching. “And what, exactly, is this?”

"Just water, sweetpea. Clears the throat." Rune shrugs. "Drink it or don't. I figured you'd like the option. A decision that's grounded and solid."

“… haven’t had any since Ravnica.” A wry, annoyed chuckle, this one harsh. Any emotional pantomime ripped away from my laugh, now it’s nothing but the heat and dehydration. “Just booze and blood and halo.” Im just holding the bottle, though I’m squeezing hard enough to press the blood from my fingers, to begin to dent the metal.

Rune looks away, casually. They know this song and dance, I am far from their first querent. "If things were simple, they'd be borin'," they say softly. "Predictable. Like exactly followin' the outline of a movie or reading the driest porno in existence. Connections to others, especially ones that make us confront parts of ourselves, that's a bit of how life stays interestin'."

Rune can hear the bottle opening. Hear me start drinking, chugging it down like the last drink of the night. Hear the—was that a sob or a sigh?—as I finish, as I close the bottle. If they look, they can see the steam billowing from that exhalation, catching in the morning light. But for very nearly the first time since dropping my communicator, I’m sober enough not to sway on my hooves.

"Feelin' less dry now, sweetpea?" Rune drawls, not looking back. Not yet. Not until they see I’m a little more comfortable, at least. "Y'know, my mom told me that I needed to drink water while I was cryin' or I'd run outta tears. Never did find out if she was right or not."

“Couldn’t tell you. I never had a mom.” This is said with the utmost casualness and honesty, it just… isn’t something I had. I’m setting the bottle on the ground, still… still standing. Keeping myself up.

"Perhaps that'll be the topic of a different readin' one of these days, if we share stories again," Rune drawls softly, leaning back in their chair. "So. How are you feelin' now? Sobered up a bit?"

“I think so. Are we sharing stories? Feels like you’ve just… walked me through a whole load of garbage.”

Rune chuckles. It's a soft, gentle sound, like sausage gravy on a biscuit. "Sugar, you needed it, and I've been watchin' the communicator enough to get three stories out of this session. Ready to go meet that pirate lady I told you about and get some fresh air instead of this stinky-ass Akroan motel room?"

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I am. Can’t believe whatsisfuck is sti- oh.” Turning towards the bed where last night’s minotaur was presumed asleep, I am quickly reminded of the throat I ate last night. “… forgot about that. Better get out before he’s found or missed.” A little sigh, reaching to rub my temples. “Hot pirate, you said?”

Rune collects their cards, gently shuffling them back into Crow's deck, the cards fluttering almost affectionately. "Yep. I'm only gonna be there long enough to drop you off with her and do the introductions in person, then I gotta come back here. Well. Not this room. But Akros. I've still got work to do here."

“Fine. Alright. Lead the way.” And I turn back towards Rune, holding out the water bottle. It’s… a little bit charred, a little bit warped. There’s a clear impression, in ash and dents, of all four fingers on my left hand. They shrug and take it. A little busted or not, they own more.

They tuck the damaged bottle back into their bag along with Crow's cards, then offer me a hand. "I find it easier to not drift if I'm holdin' somethin'. Goal is Ixalan."

“… oh, fuck. Not a forest-ocean plane again. Fine. Let’s… let’s go.” A little nod, eyes closed, my hair now extinguished.

#planar posting #rune the tarot reader #theros posting #ravnica posting #vorthos #magic the gathering #mtg #mtg rp

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