Chapter 14: Concurrent Rhetoric

RRH: It might be best to leave town for a little while, until this blows over, and come back.

Metasepia: No. That feels craven. Like… that feels like I’m already declining, because what kind of precedent is it for me to leave town and flee the consequences/aftermath of my actions? Fuck no. I’m tired of running. I’m tired of being scared of authority. I used to not be! Witches aren’t afraid of walking alone at night, because they know *they’re* the scariest thing walking alone at night. If I give up on that then I’m not a witch at all.

Metasepia: Like I know you’re probably just trying to protect me from getting tortured or shot by the cops but honestly if I’m that worried about guns I will just get some immortals in talks about turning me immortal.

Metasepia: Maybe I *need* to be here. Maybe I’m *supposed* to be here. If I can get to nyc in an hour or two then I can visit or weekend, which is genuinely much more preferable than living there. I’ve been worried about City Psychosis and the sensory overstimulation that nyc is. If Baltimore has high speed rail and a subway available to me, then even without social support I think I will be okay. I’m still going to pursue social support but at the moment I’m contemplating between splitting time between here and nyc or living here and only visiting nyc.

Michaela had to admit, the immediate ‘no’ followed by a fierce and thought-out argument was, paradoxically, a good sign. It meant Aix was choosing, now that they had choices; the fact that they were choosing something other than what Michaela thought best was not the point.

Maybe she was looking at this wrong—because she’d not had to deal with Aix’s life, which she knew enough to know had been horrific up until now. Most people hadn’t been through that much before getting into the monster/hunting life. Most people. Aix was not most people, their threshold for ‘irreversibly traumatising’ was, quite obviously by now, much, much higher than normal. They had a lifetime of experience telling them humans were untrustworthy and dangerous, and all the monsters they’d ever met had reacted to them with immediate awe and respect.

Michaela realised she’d fallen into the trap that Erastos had warned her and René to avoid: thinking Aix needed protection, thinking they didn’t know what was best for them. She felt guilty about that, but guilty didn’t fix anything.

BRRH: You can stay in the bus while you look for a place here, then. And we’ll still help you move. We can call Amber and have her come here instead, she’d likely be passing through B’more on her way as is.

Metasepia: Thanks. I have my realty site open and have been poking around seeing what’s here. I’d want an actual rowhouse or house, if I were living here. It’s quiet enough.

BRRH: You seem to be at a point in your life where you need to be in a house. Let me know when you decide whether you’re going to be Baltimore’s designated Hunter/Witch, because that means making it known and official that you’re an authority.

Metasepia: I would prefer the term ‘watchperson’ but yeah, I get it. I’ll take the oath about protecting Ankh-Morpork. XD

Metasepia: Would Virginia be mad if I didn’t move in? Or if I was only there part time? I’m seriously considering staying in Baltimore, I think it’s probably better for my health—but I would still like to visit nyc and have my own spot to live there, so I’m not constantly a guest or at a hotel. Is that too extravagant?

NineInchNeedles: First of all, I am *not* the one to ask about extravagance, I’m Rich. Secondly, that apartment would lay fallow if you weren’t in it. And thirdly—you need to think about what is best for your well-being, and your life.

NineInchNeedles: Also, as I said before, you got seized by Destiny, and that’s not really something you can go back from. Gin knows *quite* well what that’s like.

NineInchNeedles: *And*—what, exactly, is wrong with being extravagant? Setting aside the idea that a small one-bedroom flat to use on weekends/weekdays while you spend the other part of the week in a *different* small dwelling (ask René about rowhouses, there are quite a few he maintains for his various assortment of boys—I think there’s a whole continuous row somewhere near Patterson Park, at this point) is *hardly* extravagant, why should you avoid extravagance? Are you not a drag queen? Are you not a theatre goth? Are you not *Catholic* on one side of your family? 😘

Metasepia: Haaa, point. It would be kind of fun to have my home split over two locations, ngl. I don’t quite want to skip out on all the fun jobs that are in Virginia’s building, but I honestly feel like it would be irresponsible to just. Leave. After what happened. I know nobody liked that woman, and that she fucked with the *wrong* person today, but there are Consequences to killing someone and in this instance I feel like one of them is understanding just what she was in the community—she was a *shitty* one, but she was a Watchperson. Vimes doesn’t abandon the city just because the Watch is corrupt. He fixes it. He complains and grouses the whole way but *he fixes it*. That’s Responsible.

NineInchNeedles: Oh, my dear, seeing this makes me so happy. You are going to be such a good Vimes to René’s Vetinari.

Metasepia: No and I’m mad about it! We got here literally the day after the Boylesque festival started and missed the first night, which was at Below The Veldt.

Metasepia: I am currently also missing whatever is going on tonight, because I have to rest my ears. I had amazing tacos and also Pippin is here and in my lap and she is my new best friend, though.

Metasepia: Simon… wait, Simon *Grishakin?* The clown expert??? He lives *here*???

Metasepia: Oh my god I had his book!! I had his book once! As a kid! My ex made me leave it behind like 10 moves ago but oh my god I know Simon! He lives here???

NineInchNeedles: Yes! And René has a huge pash on him. I’ve met him before, he’s quite pashable. A very gentle creature. He’s been looking in on Pippin, his shelter is down in Canton somewhere. On *Toone* street, which I always thought was quite lucky for him.

NineInchNeedles: She is a *very* good reason. I know how much you like clowns. I’ve been working on a little set of winter things for her, she came up to visit a while back so I could take her measurements and she could pick out yarn.

NineInchNeedles: I have been telling Cthulhu about what you’ve been telling me on your road trip so far, as he’s staying with us in the guest room for the moment. He finds the city fascinating, and Dmitri has introduced him around to all the local monsters. He’s struck up a friendship with Dr Scarpa—you haven’t met him, he’s the “tzimisce” I told you about.

‘Have you asked him yet?’ Dmitri asked, as he emerged from the bedroom for the night, ‘I won’t have René poaching him, I saw him first, I—’

‘Ashley,’ Victoria said, and he knew she was very serious, when she used his real name. He made concerted effort to rein in his temper, going so far as to kneel at her feet and bow his head. She put her hand out to pet his long pale hair, slow and grounding.

‘Aix was kidnapped by Ana a few hours ago. They’re safe now, and are responsible for Ana’s death at the hands of—oh, good evening, Cthulhu, you should hear this too. Come, sit.’

Their guest did not sleep, but had learned from Victoria’s family that it was best to rest while the humans slept, and go about at night, and so spent the daylight hours learning to read and write English. Am I intruding upon a scene?

‘No, dear. But there’s been a development. Our dear Aix was kidnapped by a rather terrible woman, and called for help, which happened to reach your sister, who devoured said woman. Aix is safe now, but may not be living here after all.’

I received communication from Shob-Zhiggurath about it and was just going to ask if Aix had sent you any messages. She was very pleased to meet him. What do you mean, not living here?

‘Well, this woman that abducted him was Baltimore’s… we call ourselves Hunters out of tradition, but these days we’re more like the Watch. And because Aix caused her to die, Baltimore doesn’t have one.’

‘Permission to swear, Mistress?’ Dmitri asked, and Victoria knew he was practically shaking with rage. She took her hand off his head.

‘Fucking pirate bastard now he’s going to seduce Aix and I saw the boy first! Damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn!’

‘I’m not sharing him with a French—French bastard!’ There was the barest hesitation, before Dmitri managed to control his tongue enough to not fling every single slur he knew at René. He was English, René was French, there was a long-standing animosity, and vampires were not usually from modern enough upbringings to separate slurs from other forms of swearing without effort.

‘Yes, listen to our guest, dear,’ Victoria said gently. ‘And Aix has said he wants to live here in Manhattan part-time. And I know from a little red birdie that Aix thinks we’re both quite attractive.’

‘Oh don’t let’s with that old saw,’ Victoria sighed. ‘Ashley, my love, this is getting a touch close to “if she’s touched by another man she is soiled forever”, and I’ll not have you insulting Aix like that.’

‘No, I just—’ Dmitri finally sighed, and said, much softer and more nakedly afraid: ‘René’s a dominant, and I’m—I’m not. And he’s a madam.’ He paused, not sure what the proper word was, but Victoria didn’t correct him, so he soldiered on. ‘He’s sensual, like Aix is. And if Aix becomes his witch, then… they’re not a free agent anymore, Victoria. If I flirt with Aix now, it becomes politics.’

‘There it is,’ she said, leaning down to kiss him. ‘Good boy, communicating what’s really bothering you. Now, I think we ought to go down to Charm City for the rest of the week, so we can finally talk to Aix about our feelings. We can dine at the Annabel Lee, it’s been years.’

Dmitri was still cross, but Cthulhu noted he was also hungry, as most humans were after sleeping; and, like Cthulhu’s folk, humans were more irrtable when they were hungry.

‘Come on, darling,’ Victoria said, trying to cheer Dmitri up. ‘Mumsy’s found a group of nazis trying to meet up in the Village; you should go eat some, you’ll feel better.’

‘I do like hunting with Lady October,’ Dmitri admitted, fighting a smile. He kissed Victoria’s hand, ‘and enacting further vengeance for your people, that your pretty hands stay clean—though I know you hate when I say it like that.’

Victoria chuckled. ‘I can hardly stop a goy from his strange ways,’ she said, as she always did. ‘Go on now, Mumsy’s already on the train.’

After Dmitri took his stick and hat (he was still old-fashioned, and their formality were a comfort) and left, Victoria turned to Cthulhu.

Cthulhu had gotten a clear idea of how Victoria was, as he had stayed here. How all the women in the Averay family were—they were all the dominant, and deferred to one another by order of age. The men took orders and obeyed with a great cheerfulness, seeming to like nothing more, and did not seem to defer to one another as much. It was odd, but Cthulhu felt… at home, with it, in a way he hadn’t in his own group back home. There had always been something odd about him, there—play-sex hadn’t been very interesting, for him; and (as was tradition) he’d designed his own final test for his studies around an attempt to play with humans the way he wanted to play with anyone. Azathoth had been obliging about helping him do it, but hadn’t understood.

Not like Aix had. Not like the Averays had. They’d given him language to describe his feelings—bondage, kink, domination, submission—and being able to name his desires had been such a relief, such an ecstatic relief….

He helped her pack, learning how to fold garments, and it was a while until he asked,

‘In a way,’ Victoria said. ‘Only people who have known him quite a long while use that name, because presently it’s seen as a girl’s name, and my darling is a scoche insecure about his masculinity, being that he’s so pretty and a ballet dancer.’

‘It is,’ Victoria said, ‘but Dmitri is very old, you know.’ She softened, and added, ‘He’s come such a long way.’

‘Oh, darling,’ Victoria said, softly, and Cthulhu felt the weight of generations of loss and fear and pain in the room, suddenly. He sat down on the bed, overwhelmed.

‘No, no, darling. Nazis are… the worst monsters on this planet. They want everyone to be exactly a certain way—what they see as “perfect”—and anyone who isn’t that way, they murder. And that is a lot of people.’

‘Mm. This is one of those human things that requires a lot of context to understand. For now, know that they are nasty people, that’s why the vampires use them for food. They’ll hurt people if they’re allowed to live. I am not a violent woman,’ she said, lifting her head and splaying a hand on her very large teats, ‘and it is not the Jewish way to think someone should be punched in the eye or murdered rather than spoken to evenly; except for nazis. It is dangerous to even speak to someone that wishes you dead.’ She folded her arms, and added, ‘Well, I should specify that while my Jewish family would agree with me about punching them in the eye, they would probably draw the line at murder. I wouldn’t, though.’

I want to learn more about this matter. If they wish perfection, but the only way for humans to achieve it is by accident of birth… this is why you refused my offer to edit your genes so you could be bipedal once more, isn’t it?

‘Yes,’ Victoria said, ‘that is eugenics—something which nazis are quite fond of. Eugenics is disrespectful to the human spirit.’

Victoria gave that some thought. ‘There’s no easy answer,’ she said, sighing. ‘But for me, this chair is part of me now, just like my glasses. I would feel naked without it, and… surgery isn’t something we humans always want, either. Here now,’ she said, more confidently, ‘you know it’s my decision, because it’s my body, right?’

‘And you place what I want for my body before what you think would help, right?’

…Oh. Oh, I understand now. These nazis… they… don’t? What makes them think they would know better thank you? That is illogical.

‘Oh it has nothing to do with logic, you’ll find.’ She softened, and was both sad and happy when she asked, ‘Do your people not have hatred?’

Cthulhu was quiet for a long time. We don’t socialise as closely as humans, so perhaps we did not develop such strong aversion. Or perhaps it is because we are not prey animals.

‘Hm, good point. And Aix said your people don’t really have stories, so… I suppose you need stories to have hate, because hate is based on hurtful stories.’

Aix did not show me those kind of stories. I understand why. He shows me the best of humanity, I think it is because he does not want me to think humans are inherently cruel. I have seen cruelty, and violence, from humans.

‘Perhaps Aix knows you had only met the worst, and wanted to give you respite,’ Victoria pointed out, as she continued getting clothes out of drawers. ‘They’re a very kind person.’

Yes. They are exactly what they showed me of humanity: To treat every strange being as a new friend, to be curious, to be pleased with everything in the world.

‘ “He could make you see the way the world could be—in spite of the way that it is.” ’ Victoria quoted fondly. ‘He’s like Abi¹ Gaspar, that way.’

① Victoria had, as a toddler, marked difficulty with long words and dipthongs. Hence, ‘Abuelo’ became ‘Abi’ and, like all of these sorts of titles, it stuck.

Chapter 14

Concurrent Rhetoric

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