Private Tales Dealings in Duality

[Zinnia]

"Really? Finesse has never really been my strong suit. It was a s-suggestion of the proctors that I go with a war hammer or a halberd, but I like carrying a shield, so...hammer it was," Zinnia explained.

She stood and stretched before snatching up Kilien's eating slate along with her own and stowing them away. She'd need to clean them properly later, but for now they'd served their purpose.

"Heh, Miss D'Amour is rough. I don't blame you for d-dodging her, but she is pretty fast. Don't expect to outrun her forever," she teased.

Belly now full, Zinnia absentmindedly reached up to one of the leather straps that held her armor together and began to tug at it.
"Ugh..." she began to visibly deflate with annoyance before sheepishly looking back at Kilien. "Uhhh...hey. D-do you mind helping me doff my armor? The straps tend to get stuck a lot. Especially on the b-back. I wouldn't n-normally ask but I really don't feel like sleeping in this junk."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Ehhhh-" Kil itched idly at the scruff on the side of his cheek, "I try to keep my expectations about most things pretty low."

Wouldn't be the first time he'd be caught ditching. Nor the last. Least not until he was willfully released from the Academy but he couldn't be sure that would ever actually happen. Not with his... condition. Vel Anir certainly didn't want someone like him running around their territories unchecked.

Lost in thought, he looked up distractedly at her request with a blink. Kilien never bothered with armor while the bulk of his skills only required a wand.

"Sure," with a grunt he was on his feet. Took a moment to get his bearings on where to begin - he hadn't a mind for where armor straps could be found but she had one started already so he figured that was as good a place as any. He went to work, brow furrowed in concentration.

"I remember this one guy from prison - big codger. Pecs the size of my head, pretty sure he could have crushed my skull just by flexing his arm, but couldn't scratch his back if his life depended on it, heh-" Kilien smirked at the thought, "used to itch it on the courtyard wall."

 

[Zinnia]

Wow, he hadn't made a big deal out of Zinnia's request. She'd fully expected him to, too. She'd been teased about it by others in the past...in fact, she could practically hear Thraah making a bigger deal about it than it ever needed to be.

"Thank you," she said as he went to work. While Kilien wormed away at the back buckles, Zinnia started on her vambraces. One by one, chunks of leather and metal began to fall to the ground.

"Oh, g-goodness. That sounds a little...much," she supposed. In all her time working out she'd never gotten truly big, and she was glad for it. She preferred her lean muscle to being a bulk-monster. "I try to keep my armor fairly light so I can stay mobile, thus all the leather. But it still reduces mobility a bit. Not trying to d-draw any comparisons now, are you?"

She cast a glance over her shoulder at Kilien as another chunk of armor came free, falling with a clunk.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Hah - nah. I was just thinkin' he'd never be able to get his own armor off cause he couldn't even reach the buckles. Nevermind them being stubborn." He flashed her an amiable smirk when she looked at him, finishing the last of the buckles at her back and then looking here and there for another set. Found some at either side of her ribs that held on her chest piece, "These too?"

Given the go ahead, he scooched over to her side and reached up to pat his own shoulder for her to set her hand on to keep the arm out of the way.

"Got a whole team to help you back home then?" Kilien actually had no idea what life was like for Dreadlords outside of the Academy. "Servants? Handmaiden? Squire? Do Dreadlords get squires?"

 

[Zinnia]

"Fair enough, though a guy that big could probably just rip the straps apart," she replied with an amused smile. Then, for some reason as he touched the buckles at her side she suddenly felt very...aware, and thus a bit sheepish. "Um...y-yes please, thank you."

Zinnia breathed and took the opportunity to engage in distraction.
"The guard keep a couple of squires on rotation that help me out, yeah. I think a lot of us do, but I think at least p-part of that is because I'm a second level. Rank perks, and stuff," she admitted. It was still so strange to think about; she'd always imagined that she'd wind up a fourth level, not a bigshot leading missions and whatnot. "I also keep in touch with the gadgeteers at the Academy. My fancier gear all comes from them and there's no way I'd be able to deal with the upkeep by mys-self."

The leather breastplate finally fell loose, a fact made clear by the sudden rush of crisp Falwood air Zinnia could feel. A formfitting cloth shirt lay beneath the armor, much more comfortable than the gear itself but not nearly as nice as what she'd soon be changing into.
"Ahhh, thank you so much!" Zinnia breathed, relieved. Without thinking, she turned a 180 and was immediately reminded of her proximity to Kilien. The gears in her head began to grind to a halt once again, and she looked up at him, a good head taller than herself. "Uhhh..."

---

What strange creatures, these, but they seemed friendly enough. Chatty, too! If their lip movements were anything to go off of, anyways. Now, they just needed to find the best opportunity to approach. What would that look like, though? They'd know it when they saw it. Surely. Sooooon enough.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Woah-" Kilien's hands immediately came up to catch her by the shoulders, his own gaze of wild hazel meeting that of saffron. The young man's brows shot upward over an easy smile, "Warn a guy before you stab at 'em with those eyes, eh?"

They were quite pretty - not a color he'd ever seen before.

His own gaze shortly shifted from her eyes to the hood over her head which he couldn't recall ever seeing her taken down. Struck him as odd that she'd be the type of gal that would be fussy over some wind in her hair. Ah well, it certainly wasn't the strangest thing he'd known girls to do for the sake of appearances.

"Need anything else, Boss?" he offered as he looked back to her.

 

[Zinnia]

Zinnia stood frozen like a deer in a limelight, her cheeks flushing brightly once again. She let a small, nervous laugh slip at the comment on her eyes.

"Need anything else, Boss?"

So, so many things.

She hadn't expected him to grab her shoulders and she wasn't sure what to expect next. Her mind was racing and she was surely thinking too much into what to do. Should she disengage? Should she press on? Was it appropriate? Was Kilien even into it? They'd only just met, after all. She could get in trouble for fraternization...probably. But would anyone ever even know?

Be bold. New you! Dreadlord Zinnia!

Oh Kress, her mouth was so dry and her heart was hammering so hard. Her fingers were so numb that she couldn't feel them as she placed her hands on Kilien's waist.

"A-as a m-matter of fact...I, umm..."

And just then, Kilien would sense his alarm spell being triggered. Something crossed through.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

She was staring at him.

...why was she staring at him? Did he have something in his teeth? Food in his beard? That happened pretty often but -

Hands.

There were hands at his waist.

What - oh.

Kilien's heavy brow raised very slowly.

Oh.

Zinnia's scent hit him with a heavy note of pheromones.

Oh.

Well. This was not how he'd expected the mission to go. The Boss was making a move on him. Kilien's brow furrowed slightly as he pondered briefly how he felt about this. It only took him a moment to decide that it was strangely flattering. Older women weren't beyond him - wait, was she older?

And then his alarm spell went off and he broke eye contact completely, looking off in the direct that he'd sensed the signal like a spider following a ping on its web.

"...hold that thought," Kilien squeezed gently at her shoulders and then released her, "something's come through my perimeter." Nose twitching, he could not get a scent beyond that which currently had surrounded him from Zinnia, their campfire, and the lingering smells of dinner. He stepped away and slipped through the brush in the direction of the ... visitor.

 

[Zinnia]

And just when Zinnia thought something might happen...Kilien pulled away. Zinnia blinked, confused, but the words registered right after. Perhaps the Falwood was not the best place for a...whatever that was about to be. Something had caught wind of them, it seemed, and Zinnia wasn't particularly happy about its timing.

She moved to follow, snatching up her hammer.

Of course, what Kilien would soon find as he moved through branches and brush to find the intruder would be...a housecat. One with short, black and white hair, which quickly moved up to Kilien to rub against his leg.

Zinnia didn't take long to catch up to Kilien, eyes darting around in search of danger, only to then fall downwards as the cat let out a soft "mew." The gold-eyed girl tilted her head.

"...Huh? What's a cat, of all things, doing all the w-way out here?"

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

The cat saw him before he saw the cat if only for its cover beneath all the brush. His nose, however, had picked up the scent but it was oddly placed and not quite right. As soon as he heard the skittering of paws through weeds his eyes dropped toward the ground and immediately widened.

"No - nonononono-" he reeled backward from it, nearly missing Zinnia by a foot, and immediately yelped as the cat was upon him and rubbing against his leg.

His immediate knee-jerk reaction was to, well, knee-jerk and fling the cat several yards through the air with his foot.

"HAH!" he shouted, fangs gaping as he spit a Rovani swear after it. Zinnia received a wild-eyed look, "I don't like cats!"

 

[Zinnia]

"Woah, woah, woah!" was all Zinnia had time to shout as Kilien frankly launched the feline, the poor critter only mustering an odd squeak as the breath was presumably forced from its lungs.

Zinnia was admittedly shocked by the sudden and violent punting of a small animal, she was also concerned why the otherwise kindly Kilien would suddenly have so violent a reaction to a creature she thought was harmless. Did he know something she didn't?

"I don't like cats!"

"I can s-see that!"

"Ow, ow, wroooong choices, ow. No. Cats. We learn."

Zinnia froze at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. It spoke in an odd, raspy fashion, with a curious lilt and an awkward, stilted pace. Far more concerning than the manner in which it spoke was where it seemed to emanate from.

"Did...did that cat just t-talk?"

"We can. Speak. Yes, sorry for startlings. That one would prefer. Differeeeent form. Will obliging, yes," the cat replied. "Just. No mooore kickings, yes? We are. Of peacefuls."

The gold-eyed girl gripped her hammer anxiously, her wide gaze sliding from the talking animal to her initiate companion as if to ask for his opinion. He'd seen a unicorn, maybe he'd know what was going on now?

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Oh hell the thing spoke.

Kilien's eyes span the area quickly, looking for the source of the now disembodied voice with dejected frenzy. Listening to its words only made him more suspicious, giving him reason to back away and motion for Zinnia to do the same.

"If it talks and can change form-" his hissed at her, though he had no proof he had a solid inkling, "it could be a fae." A deep frown etched itself onto his face within his beard, nose wrinkling. There were other things that had such abilities that would be far less trouble than a fae, but he sometimes had a habit of expecting the worst.

Frankly, fae were the very definition of the worst for mortals.

"Don't give it your name and do not agree to anything."

It wasn't so much that he disliked fae, at least not in the way that he disliked cats, but he knew a little bit too much to trust this very weird situation.

"What are you," he barked quite suddenly, pulling out his wand, "answer plainly."

 

[Zinnia]

"Fae?" she repeated. Right. The whole unicorn thing. If anyone knew what was happening here it was going to be Kilien. "G-got it."

Zinnia backed up as well, not letting her guard down despite the creature's attempts at placating them.

"'What' are we, that one. Asks. Hmm..." the cat intoned thoughtfully, tilting its head from side to side. "Difficult to say. We are. Mmm. Many things. As are you! You also!"
The cat raised a paw like a person would, pointing at both Kilien and Zinnia in turn.
"Excuse me?" Zinnia asked it.

"Shape-changers, you. We. As well. Think we have a...'plain form?' Will show."
The cat bowed in a typical feline stretch, and as it did it surely began to change. Its eyes turned a vibrant, violet hue and its nostrils and ears vanished. Fur became slick skin, the white patterns on its body receding to its extremities and face. Its neck became long and what once was a nose became more of a spike that jutted from its face. Front paws shifted into clawed, four-fingered hands, back paws became longer and more canine in appearance.

All in all, the shifter looked far more alien than before, like nothing Zinnia had ever laid eyes on prior. Its size, too, had increased significantly, now rivaling Kilien in mass despite its hunched posture.

"Ahhh, there. Less. Mmm. Offensive, we hope? We only wished to. Talk. With fellow whatever-you-ares," it explained calmly.

Zinnia's heart felt like it had leapt into her throat. It...knew? How could it know that? What did it mean by "you, you also?" Was Kilien...?

"I...I d-don't know what you're talking about!" she said back, instinctively, defensively. The shifter merely cocked its head and smiled.

"We admire your. Ability. To look like one-shapes. Very! Convincing! But! The nose..." it tapped its snout. "Knows. Mmm."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Well this certainly topped his list of Strange Shit He'd Never Expected to Encounter in His Lifetime. The transformation set all nerves and senses on high alert and he felt the sinew of his figure go rigid with wariness as the creature's true form took shape before them. Not that there was any certainty it was, indeed, the true form, but if this was a fae it was not any kind he'd heard of.

He shared a glance with Zinnia upon hearing the accusation. For himself, keeping his ... condition under wraps was more for the sake of others than himself. He'd been instructed that his enrollment within the Academy hinged on the fact that his status not become common knowledge. Kilien couldn't really say why it was so important, but despite his distaste for the Academy he greatly preferred it to his former life in a cell block.

Still, this whole conversation was setting his proverbial hackles. He'd lived with his curse and had become accustomed to the slurs it beget - but Zinnia was a Nice Lady and who the hell was this thing to sling such words at her.

"That's rude-" Kilien lifted his own hand and pointed right back at the thing, "saying things like that about a lady. You say what you want about me, but you leave my Boss out of it."

"Apologize to her, and then maybe we can consider a conversation."

 

[Zinnia]

The visitor raised a thoughtful claw to its mouth, long fangs glinting in the waning light of day. After a moment it scratched its head, seeming confused.

"We are sorry? Mmm. Did not mean to. Offend. We only speak of. What we. Mmm. Observe," the shifter said, squatting down on its haunches.

Zinnia found no comfort in the apology. She was thoroughly on edge now, despite Kilien's denial of the visitor's assertion. She wrapped an arm uncomfortably around the other, hammer hanging slack as she joined the visitor by sitting on a nearby fallen log.

She said nothing more, golden eyes simply shifting and sliding between Kilien and the creature that had joined them in their little campsite. Uneasy. Nervous. Wishing she knew how to proceed.

The visitor's head perked up as Zinnia sat, expressing a naïve hope in its body language that seemed both uncanny and almost...cute? It did an approximation of clapping and hummed happily.
"Mai-Boss sits with us! Mmm! The...mmm..." the visitor squinted and sniffed heavily in Kilien's direction. "Mmm...canid one? Will as well?"

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Kilien did not sit down. Instead he stationed himself between Zinnia and the thing at once side of the campfire and stood there with his brow furrowed and his arms crossed. This would be about the time he'd been expecting to pull out his smoking pipe and wind down by the fire for the evening's first watch.

Not tonight, apparently.

"No," he grumbled in return, purposefully ignoring being called a canid, "now what do you want?"

 

[Zinnia]

"We want to know more. Of. You! Be making friendlies. Maybe play games? Don't get to meet many. Mmm. Others like us," the creature intoned, ever chipper.

Zinnia squirmed in place. The way Kilien had positioned himself didn't slip her attention. Even after what this thing had said he was being protective of her. Not even that felt quite right. Zinnia was the superior here, the Dreadlord. Kilien was only an initiate, and barely even that. Yet, despite the front of being some hooligan, he was behaving with...well, nobility. That sparked the courage to speak, at least.

"What do you m-mean by that? 'Others like you?'" she asked the thing in return. It craned its neck towards her.

"Were we not of being clear? Other. Mmm. Changers. We can smell this. You, you," it answered, pointing first to Zinnia, then Kilien, and finally itself. "And we. Ah! But--sorry, not wantings to make canid one mad again."

Zinnia sighed. By all accounts, usual protocol deemed that they should be exterminating this thing. Unfortunately she had no idea what the creature might be capable of, and something this flexible in its form was liable to slip away and come back later when they were more vulnerable if they pissed it off. Zinnia wasn't about to let that happen.

On top of that, what it was saying felt...genuine. And the details were starting to pull at her own curiosity.
"Ki--umm...hey," she began, quickly reminding herself what Kilien had said about names only minutes ago, instead opting to look in his direction and wave for his attention.

"Do you know what our new f-friend here means? Why it keeps calling you that?" she hazarded, careful not to give too much away. Not yet.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Kilien's frown tugged even more deeply at his beard which, over their short journey, had become somewhat overgrown. Not that he had ever been particularly particular about his appearance, but he usually kept it shorter than this.

"Yeah," he said without looking at Zinnia but instead maintaining a rather grumpy stare at their company, "it's... not important."

At least, not more important than keeping his mouth shut about it. Not so important to be questioning her about why it was also insisting she, too, was a shifter. Those sorts of things were personal - he'd be better off asking after her cup size.

"Listen, if you insist on chit-chatting with us you need to have some manners. Stop calling us changers. You can call me Kip and her Boss, got it?"

 

[Zinnia]

"It's...not important."

Oh. Zinnia's eyes widened a bit, her brows raised. Book smarts might not have been her forte, but she had a good intuition. The visitor was dead right about Zinnia...and it was likely also right about Kilien.

The ever-present toothy maw of the visitor curled downwards, its head lowered, and it tapped its two index fingers together sheepishly.

"Okay...but...We don't understanding why this is. Mmm. 'Rude.' You are. Ashamed?" it asked, seeming meek despite its appearance.

"Yes!" Zinnia blurted out suddenly. "Where we come from the people only c-care for humans! Changing shapes could get you hurt, or even killed!"

"Hu-mans?" The creature tilted its head in confusion.

"People...'one-shapes,' you called them? That l-look like this," she gestured to herself. "Others like us would try to kill you for what you are! They would k-kill..."

Zinnia trailed off, her teeth grit. She could hardly bring herself to say the ugly truth.

"Human one-shapes. Would kill...Boss? And Kip?" it finished for her. Zinnia's mouth fell open to try and answer, but no sound came out. It was simultaneously frustrating and fascinating how seemingly innocent this strange creature was, almost childlike in both knowledge and demeanor.

Finally, she answered.
"...Yes. No one can know what I..." Zinnia cast a sorrowful glance towards Kilien, then back at the visitor. "What we are. 'Kip' and I c-could lose everything."

The visitor sat and appeared to think over her words for a long while, mulling over what, to it, was an odd revelation. After a long while of flicking one of its claws over a fang, it spoke.
"Very well. We keep. Mmm. Secret. Of good at this. Promise," it said solemnly. "Kip, Boss, and we...talk friendlies now?"

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Zinnia's sudden entry into the conversation gave him a start. She'd been so quiet up until a moment ago...

This passionate response prompted a second return to the idea that she, too, was some kind of shifter. Was she? It wasn't exactly his place to ask and it certainly wasn't his business. Not as if he'd offered up his own truths on a silver platter.

He didn't return her gaze when she looked to him again. Brow set over discomfiture, Kilien could only stare at their guest. Being friendly with this thing didn't seem like a good idea. It still stank too closely of fae and he had no trust for their kind but he disliked the thought that he was reacting to it in the same way any old Anirian would.

Kilien Basmarc was not an Anirian.

A heavy sigh shifted his shoulders, "Sure," he relented and kicked a stray twig into the fire before turning to find a place to make himself comfortable. As comfortable as he could, anyway.

Where was his pipe? He patted down his jacket and procured it from an inner pocket along with a small box of smoking leaves. "What are you doing out here," Kilien asked while he packed the pipe bowl, "you some sort of pet for the elves or something?"

 

[Zinnia]

The visitor relaxed, its toothy grin returning in gusto as it made a little clapping gesture to itself.
"This is being our. Home. The forest, we means. The...'elves?' What is?" it asked with a scratch of its head.

"Um...l-like us, but thinner. Pointy ears. The local, erm...'one-shapes,'" Zinnia replied. Not a question she ever thought she'd have to answer, but this thing really did seem to be like a child. That it had such a good grasp on tradespeak was staggering in its own right.

"Ohhh, yes. No. Not being pet. Elves not friendly to. Us. More of chasings and shootings. Mmm," it bobbed its head up and down as if confirming to itself that this was correct.

"The elves hunt you?"

"Mmm," it hummed with a nod. "What you. Do. In forest? Hide from elves?"

Zinnia shook her head.
"Not exactly..." she said with a sidelong look to Kilien. Maybe being straightforward wasn't the best idea right now, but she wasn't very good at making things up on the spot.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Curious that the elves, of all peoples in the area, would be so keen to hunt this creature. That bit of information grew creases at the sides of his eyes as he listened over the crackle of the fire. Elves, he thought (perhaps wrongly so) were far more welcoming to others of non-human nature than most humans were. That they disliked this creature for whatever reason did not sit well with him.

Then again, the elves hadn't liked his ancestor either.

Did elves also dislike druids?

"We're passing through," Kilien replied easily over a fresh puff of smoke from his pipe, "nothing more or less. We have no quarrel with the elves."

Or so he surmised. Vel Anir had made peace with the elves after the revolution ... hadn't it?

 

[Zinnia]

"Right...just passing through..." Zinnia repeated. A low hum came from the visitor, seeming to indicate it was satisfied with the answer. "Why do the elves hunt you?"

The visitor rolled its head from side to side, perhaps in thought.
"Don't know. We are not. 'Quarrel-ing.' With elves either. Still they hunt," it answered. It's head stilled, small eyes landing on Zinnia. "Maybe your 'humans.' And our 'elves.' Not so different?"

Zinnia paused again, pursing her lips.
"M-maybe not..." she said slowly. It may have had a point. "Do you, um...have a name?"

A quirk of its head, a claw thoughtfully placed its lower jaw.
"Name?"

"Something we can c-call you. Like 'Kip' or 'Boss.'"

"Mmm. No. No one to 'name' us. One-shapes sometimes. Call. Us. 'Kill-that-thing-don't-let-it-get-away.' Is this good?"

Zinnia grimaced.
"We...could probably come up with s-something better."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Oh, so they were naming the thing now? Something icky slipped down through his chest as though he'd swallowed molten honey. Names. He already told Zinnia the power of names and he disliked the idea of giving this thing a name. Names were for familiars, for pets, for friends, for enemies. For things of connection wether by fate or by circumstance. So far as he knew this creature, he rather not have any connection to it at all.

Names came back to haunt you when you least expected it.

When he glanced over to see the thing looking between him and Zinnia, and the latter looking rather lost in thought, he also could not help but grimace.

Perhaps... he could simply assign a word of no value instead.

"Maska," he offered after some silence, "it means one of many faces in my language."

 

[Zinnia]

"Mas...ka. Maska. Massss...ka!" the visitor parroted, its head bobbing up and down as it tried the unfamiliar word out. It wiggled about, seemingly pleased with the sound. "We are...Maska!"

Maska eyed the initiate boy across from it, blissfully unaware of his apprehension.
"We. Like this. Thank you."

Zinnia couldn't help but smile. The creature was visibly pleased, even if only in its own quite alien way.

More questions came from the newly christened Maska and Zinnia asked her own in turn. In all, perhaps an hour was spent speaking with the odd creature as it questioned mundane things about human dealings and babbled on about its own routines within the Falwood.

At last, the visitor rose to its feet.
"We have. Mmm. Taken much of your. Time. You have been kind to. Us. To Maska. We thank you," it said, a rumbling emanating from its chest that resembled purring. "It has been nice to. Mmm. Speak with others. Though we will not telling of you, no. But! If. Mmm. Friends Boss and Kip are ever. In need and near Falwood. We shall helping."

"Th-that is...kind of you as well, Maska. Thank you, too," Zinnia said, bowing her head slightly as the creature made to leave.

"Mmm! You, we, not alone. We won't forget this. You remember too. Good-byes, friends. Remain. Safe."

With that the creature began to slink back into the forest. As it did, its form shrunk, slimmed, contorted. Once more it was on all fours, though now it was slender and a crown of antlers sprung from its head. In moments, Maska was a deer, though still monochromatic in color, and in moments more it was gone from sight.

Zinnia exhaled as though she'd been storing stale breath in her chest the entire time.

"Kress...that was certainly, uh...s-something."