username: lady of the willow tree | audio

[aprescoup]

( She has long suffered, her great sigh speaks, every fool that's walked this world. ) ...you took more dead. Why are you like this? You want friends? I buy you friends. Three for five coin pieces, at the market. You are ugly, maybe I pay seven. And you are fools! No one likes you. I pay nine.

Pah! What is your luck? What is my luck? These other clapping seals in their little frills, with their little cakes and their little cups, they are playing their little games. And they come to me with messages. I I have the look of a saint now, who delivers word. How fortunate Karsa is. How grateful.

Look here. Pay attention. ( She spits out the words: ) First come the beggars, the Bessis. What is their puny fire worth now? I breathe hotter each morning. They ask for their captives, to hide their shame. Imagine! You kill, and you kill, and you kill, and then you keep your dead 'allies' like vermin, and it is not good, when you are found out. Who could have thought?

( And softer: ) The others. The Attaryl, for whom speaks the red woman, Vannozza. They want their dead. For burial. Ha! As if she will not use them to say, looooooooooooook! Look what my cousin's good friends! Look. But the witches... these are their dead.

So, talk, choose, and — ( The transmission seems to flicker, her voice first feeble, then doubled, then she shrieks: ) No. No. You do not dare, you do not presume, you do not, you fur-clad pink pig, you do not dare —

( But Karsa falls silent. To a quiet backdrop, broken only by a rhythmic drip, speaks undead Lord Anurr of Sa-Hareth — who has not been seen since arriving in Sa-Hareth. He seems to borrow the voices of multiple men, women and children, never settling on the one: )

H elLo   Li TtlE   FrIenD S. HoW   Ha VE   YoU   Be EN?   GoOD?   Yo U   ArE   Go OD   peOPlE.

Go oD   ThIn Gs   SHOUl D   HaPpE N   T o   GoOd   Peop Le.   And   GoO D   EnDing S   to   Th Ose   Who   HAV e   SuF f e Red   LoN G.

N o?   Y E s.

And   Th E y   havE SuFFer Ed,   ThEse   AtTa ryL.   An D   N oW   ThEY WoU l D   Be   Use D   aGA in?

No.   So   Man Y   BuRNs. So   ManY   WA I Ls.   I heAR   ThE M   FroM   HerE.

GiVE   Them   To   ME.   Th E Y   Will   Be   O U R   BrothER s   In   SA-HARE Th.   Fr E e.

( As quickly as Anurr interrupted, his voice disappears. A long heartbeat's silence. By the time Karsa recovers command of her own transmission sorcery, she is quieter for it, rattled. )

You... that. That disgusting creature. That... well. Well, you heard him, didn't you? You heard him. Tell me what you wish done. You cannot have it all ways. Only one answer.

( ooc: the floor is yours, threadjack away, debate the fate of the six undead claimed in the Bessis tower disaster, plus the three previously weaponised by Wei Wuxian. Characters with 'ownership' of the dead get final say — please state it! All the undead will go to the petitioner with the highest number of votes. Haltham Anurr will not be answering any comments. )

Comments

[aprescoup]

I cannot help you. The Merchant says I have too much anger. He is a fool. I have no anger. I have fire.

[jeoha]

[ He can't help but smile a bit and it's unfortunately audible. ]

Passion, perhaps, and an unwillingness to lend extra time to the stupid.

Perhaps if there was a slightly - ah - less politically positioned Attaryl that we could speak to?

[aprescoup]

Did I not say? Did I not say? You came to Taravast, nest of witches. Why do witches need a city? We do not. Only for politics. I spit on them.

[jeoha]

So, you believe that any that are allied with her through their magical practice are likely to be allied to her politically, and thus unlikely to give different advice or opinion.

[ A pause. ]

Though if you do end up spitting on them, I would pay a few coins to see that.

[aprescoup]

I have much spit. Like a walrus.

( Sighed: ) I believe they were fools. They fought sisters. They lost. And they lost their people, also. But...

[jeoha]

I believe it, though I think if my choice was between witnessing a walrus, and witnessing you, I would choose the latter.

... But?

[ Just the gentlest prod to continue. Assuming what she might say would only look him more the fool if he guessed. ]

[aprescoup]

Even fools can have family. Are you not a family?

[jeoha]

[ There is a weird pause on his end. It should be an easy question, of course, but it isn't. Not for him.

Family is so fully tied with blood - with royal duty, with succession. With ambition, and assassination.

He has no real concept of what a family looks like beyond that. But even then, softly: ]

I am not sure I would give our band that title, but I understand.

Even undead, family is family. And the responsibility is ours.

[ But it doesn't sound like 'ours' means the group. ]

[aprescoup]

What a word! What a man. Better than a mother.