judgementor | [Aefenglom IC Inbox]

[Hm. They watch him quietly for a moment, before reaching back for the jam and slowly opening the jar.]

I'll admit it wasn't what I was expecting to happen but that doesn't mean I regret it. Sometimes it's... Nice, to do things you normally wouldn't intend for. Good things can come from that.

[They shrug.]

Yeah, I did.

I suppose they can.

[He seems content, at least for a few moments, to just watch Bailey's movements. Even now they have a delicate way about them, and he wonders if they're nervous or if that's simply how they are.

There's a lot he doesn't know, here.]

... I don't want you to think it didn't mean anything.

[They busy theirself with spreading jam on their croissant, before humming softly.]

I don't think it means nothing.

[They take a bite, looking at Red Wine curiously.]

...I'm not sure what it means yet, but I don't think it's nothing.

Hmn.

[He turns his attention down to the croissant, peeling another strip of pastry off it and smiling very slightly to himself. His ears twitch back subtly, the light coming in through the kitchen window glinting off the gold earrings looped through the cartilage.

It's fine.

The kettle whistles, and he stands up to move it off the heat.]

What would you want it to mean?

[Ah, the ear wiggles again... It's just as cute this time.

But they look away, thinking. What they want it to mean? They have no idea. There's no grand romantic notion or desire, they just...

They just want Red Wine to be happy, and to have someone he can rely on, someone to comfort him, and...

They let out a breath.]

I'm not really sure. I haven't thought about it a lot - wasn't really sure what you wanted.

I'm not an easy person to be around.

[Normally, he wouldn't be so candid, but this isn't a normal kind of situation. When it had been with Caren, well, she had already known what kind of a person he was. Does Bailey really know anything about him? He keeps his back to them as he starts to make tea for them both, and he speaks again.]

I'm secretive and short-tempered, and I despise being here.

[But he had been kind, hadn't he. Red Wine sets the lid on the teapot with a soft clink.]

And I don't see what I want to be something that has all that much relevance.

Edited (ugh grammar) 2020-09-08 00:19 (UTC)

[They watch him for a moment, mulling that over. Not easy to be around. Secretive, short-tempered... Not exactly the best traits to have.

They nibble their croissant, eyes dropping from his back to the table. It’s a moment before the speak, and when they do their voice is soft. Gentle.]

I think what you want is incredibly relevant. Otherwise you could be forced into something you hate, and that’s not fair to you.

[A pause.]

You’re allowed to choose what you want, and you don’t have to make that choice right now.

[And they could certainly see why he wouldn’t want anything to do with them. They’re a stranger, too nosy and meddlesome for their own good. They would understand if he wanted nothing to do with them ever again.]

Heh.

[He brings the teapot over along with two cups and sits down again. It would be easy to be cynical here, abrasive even, because very little that has happened here has been something that he wanted and he's hated a good deal of it. It's bitten back only because he knows that isn't what Bailey means, it isn't an argument they signed up for... and it's not an argument that he has enough energy to have right now.]

Life isn't fair. [He settles on, drumming his fingers against the side of an empty cup.]

But you're... very sweet. [The way he smiles does, at least, ease out the sharpness in his expression.] I don't think anyone has ever brought me baked goods before.

...Maybe it isn’t, but that doesn’t mean it’s something that’s inherently cruel.

[They frown, but... They don’t want a fight. That’s the last thing they want, actually.

They just want to... Fix things. They know it’s not that easy, and they know it’s not their place to try, if Red Wine even wants there to be a change. He says things are fine, and he must have some manner of coping with life here, but...

Bailey doesn’t know how to leave well enough alone. That’s left its scars on them.

They finish their croissant, licking jam from their thumb.]

Really? That’s a shame. I’ll have to bring you more.

[They're optimistic because they're young, and he won't try to take that from them. Perhaps one day they'll learn about the kinds of things Red Wine has seen to make him judge the world so harshly.]

I'd like that.

[Spending time with someone who doesn't look at him with pity because of a lost bond, and isn't dealing with a recent painful loss of their own... it's nice. Even after many months spent in this world he still has precious few people he would go out of his way to spend time with.]

Is there anything you want to ask me? Anything that you're curious about?

[They want to learn more about him - they want to know why he is the way he is.

They perk up when be says he’d like more pastries, smiling again.]

Alright, good!

[They cock their head, chewing on their bottom lip for a moment. There’s a lot of things they could ask that they don’t know where to start.

So might as well start with the basics.]

Well... What were you before showing up here? You weren’t human.

[He expected that question, and he's grown used to explaining the ins and outs of exactly what he is. While things like elves and dragons seem to span across multiple worlds, Red Wine's 'species' appears unique to Tierra itself.]

No, I wasn't human.

[And he is a little sorry for what he's doing to the croissant, tearing it to pieces with his fingers before he eats it, but it's keeping him focused.]

I was what is called a Food Soul. A spirit of sorts, summoned into a physical form for the purpose of protecting and serving my human master.

[A Food Soul... Well, that explains the name. The explanation also makes sense - Bailey wouldn't consider theirself an expert on spirits, but they've certainly dealt with a lot. The spirits of those who died and didn't move on more often than not, but there were... Outliers.

Red Wine's already seen the scar left by one of those outliers.

They've never heard of a spirit being given a physical form, but they suppose it's not impossible - especially in a world that doesn't operate on the same rules as their own.

They nod, slowly, mulling that over.]

What was your master like? Were they nice?

[Is this really the sort of question they should be asking...]

She was a noble lady. Impetuous and childish, at times, but with a good heart. She treated me very well.

[And Red Wine knows, sadly enough, that his tale of life with his Attendant had been a strangely happy one. Food Souls were all too often mistreated and abused simply because they were not human, and lacked the power or influence to challenge it.

Of course, some, like Turkey and Champagne, rose far above the ranks of any of them...]

I loved her like a sister, and I still miss her. She's been dead for a long time.

[Well, that just raises more questions than it answers. They're glad that Red Wine had a good relationship with his master - they had been worried about what his answer would be, truthfully. History tells that people with power over others aren't always kind.

For lack of a better word.]

So do Food Souls always linger after their Master dies? You're not... Connected in any way that means sticking around is a bad idea for you?

[Red Wine shakes his head slightly.]

We're tied in obedience to them only for as long as they live, following any orders that they give to us. [To their detriment, sometimes. Again... it was only by luck that he was treated so well by his master.]

But once they die, we're left to find our way in the world by whatever means we see fit.

...So there's a compulsion to obey.

[They! Were afraid of that! That sounds incredibly terrible, actually! They can only imagine the sort of ways someone would take advantage of that...]

Once you've been summoned and your master dies, can you be summoned again? Can you die yourself?

[A beat, a sheepish look crossing Bailey's face.]

Sorry, this is a lot of questions.

It's alright.

[The vampire gives a small wave of one hand to dismiss the apology, and takes a moment to pour the tea out before it steeps too much and turns bitter.]

I'm... not certain if I could be summoned again. Not while I still have a physical form. [He hasn't really given much thought to it at all, given he has no plans to die.]

Food Souls don't die the way humans understand it. If our spirit power is drained enough, we... diminish and become less than what we were.

[Is it alright!! Is it...

They reach for a tea cup, humming.]

So it’s not something you’ve ever heard of happening? When you summon a Food Soul is it by chance or do you get some say in who’s going to show up?

[How many Food Souls are there, anyways... Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands? If they’re all... Named(?) after foods they could be basically endless.

But also...]

Is there a White Wine? Or a Rosé?

Mm... the summoning is usually done with an example of the particular food you're trying to summon the soul of.

[Ah, now that's a question to ask.]

There is a Yellow Wine. We haven't met to any detailed extent, but he's an oaf. [Red Wine has little patience for personalities like the one Yellow Wine has, but he can still only give his first impression of the Soul.]

There is also Chrysanthemum Wine, Realgar Wine, Champagne... and I would imagine many others.

So do Food Souls typically have traits associated with their food? Like, need someone beefy around to do strong guy stuff, better get Steak?

[Or else how do you know who would be a good choice to summon... They also feel a little guilty bringing Steak up, but...

They don’t see the point in acting like he never existed.

They laugh, surprised at Red Wine’s dismissal of Yellow Wine.]

How many Food Souls have you met and actually liked?

[He narrows his eyes slightly and tilts his head, but he doesn't appear to take offence. He also doesn't answer the first question. In part because he doesn't know, and in part because... well, it was indelicate, and he doesn't want to talk about Steak right now.]

I've met enough that I've liked. More that I tolerate.

[And now he has to cast his mind back, because it's been a while...]

There was a time I was closely associated with a young king. A Food Soul, like myself. Turkey. Champagne is a king too, though... of much more reknown. He's a very powerful leader.

[He might just sound like he's gushing a little there, if you squint.]

[Whoops! Now they feel extra guilty, and the look on their face doesn't hide that at all.]

Tolerate is a really low bar...

[They sound amused, and their brow quirks up. Is he... Is he really gushing? Is he a... Turkey and Champagne fanboy? He's too reserved to tell, but...]

What kind of things can Food Souls do? I mean, if you're nigh-immortal spirits you'd think you'd, like, at least be stronger than a regular human or could do magic or something.

[While Bailey isn't entirely correct, they are right on at least one count - Red Wine is, somewhat, a 'Champagne fanboy'. It would be far more obvious were the other Soul in the room with them, but he admires many things about the king and soldier.]

Mm. We're all far more difficult to kill than humans are, and we won't die by ordinary means. What strength we have varies, and some of us can do magic. Some of us are healers. Some can manipulate the minds of our enemies and turn them on one another, or mute their power so they can't use it.

[And Bailey is probably wondering what category Red Wine falls into, so he adds, almost modestly.]

My skill is with a blade. No magic, only the steel in my hand.

[That's cute. Bailey thinks it's cute. Everyone needs to have people they look up to!!]

So it's a mixed bag.

[Which makes sense, they suppose. There are endless possibilities for what a Food Soul could be, which means there must be an endless variety in what they could do.

They cock their head - it's not hard to imagine Red Wine with a sword. They could picture him being a very refined, noble fighter... They're not sure that's correct because he did say he was short-tempered, but... Well. It's their fantasy and they can dream of him being a dashing, charming swordsman all they want.]

Do you still fight, here?

Edited (weh) 2020-09-08 19:29 (UTC)

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