The Faces of the Corpse-Eater

Log Info

• Title: The Faces of the Corpse-Eater

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house

• Summary: A thankfully quiet evening in the Lupecyll-Atlon household is only broken by the arrival of Alud'rigan, the Feathered One. Discussion ensues about what to do regarding his cousin, the Corpse-Eater, and what tactics the evil fey might use against the couple. As dark as the subject is, the evening is still lightened by love, family, and a little Night's Kiss wine.

Lupecyll-Atlon home, evening.

The chill of the night wind blows outside the house, rattling the trees that are losing their leaves rapidly by the day and shaking the bushes in the garden. This cold and windy evening has resulted in the mistress of the house to take her leave to the water closet to take a warm bath.

However, the master of the house is to expect an unexpected, but welcome guest. A certain violet-eyed raven lands at the kitchen window and raps at the glass.

This catches the attention of Pothy, who is feasting on peanuts at the moment--normally, he wouldn't turn down a bath with Cor'lana, but the honey-roasted peanuts from the market have his full attention this evening. "Telamon!" he calls out. "Grandfather's here."

Telamon is in the middle of holding... something. It's a slightly eye-twisting geometric pattern of glowing lines, an intricate diagram, with a noticeable flaw in one place. Deliberately, he furrows his brow, nudging it mentally, and the flaw snaps back into place. "There we go," he murmurs. A flush of pleasure, as he contemplates the now intact pattern, and--

At Pothy's call, he jerks upright, and the pattern shimmers, becoming less distinct. Telamon sighs, and slowly gets up from his chair in the study, gesturing to dismiss the illusionary image. "Need to work on keeping focus," he mutters to himself, before stretching and walking out to the living room and kitchen proper.

Seeing Grandfather at the window, the elegant half-elf walks over to open the window, letting the fey lord into the kitchen proper. "Good evening, Grandfather. It's been a while since you've visited."

Grandfather is almost about to say something in response when the wind picks up again. The poor violet-eyed raven barely keeps his balance on the windowsill before he takes flight and lands in the kitchen, taking his full form. "It appears to not have been the ideal night for a visit," he admits, "but I felt it important to do so. Where is Cor'lana?"

"Soaking in the bath," Pothy remarks. "Probably will walk out in a little while without any clothes on, so be ready for that." He crunches into a peanut as he states it rather matter-of-factly.

There's a glimmer of amusement as Grandfather looks at Telamon. "I can guess from that remark that marriage has been good for the both of you," he says, in that irritatingly sly-Grandfather way. "Have you had dinner yet?--No, that's the smell of soup from the fire. I'd say I should come back another night, but, well..."

His eyes narrow. "I understand my cousin has been about lately."

Telamon firmly shuts the window once Grandfather is inside. "Cold and windy. Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't take your elven form and just ride a rickshaw to our front door." He shrugs and grins a bit.

At Pothy's comment, Tel gives the familiar a look. "Perhaps you could warn her that Grandfather is here, before you return to gorging yourself on peanuts." Turning his gaze back to Grandfather, his expression smooths back out into a bashful smile. "Well... yes. We did live together, but now it's different. A permanent arrangement, bound and witnessed. I know there are some who disdain marriage but... I find myself fulfilled, Grandfather. Like I'm whole now, in a way I was never aware of missing before."

At the mention of the cousin, though, Telamon's mouth curls down again. "Yes. Unfortunately." He looks like he wants to spit, but instead gathers himself, focusing. "He's entertaining himself by keeping Glorenacil in a kind of delusional world where he thinks he lives at home with his devoted daughter." He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "And I suspect he doesn't think too much of me being married to Lana, for that matter."

"That would have been the sensible thing to do, yes," Grandfather remarks, "but I didn't want to run into any of my... ahem, 'admirers' from when I worked at the bookstore. I didn't anticipate that they would be so bold as to ask me out on a date." Is... Is the fey lord being bashful?

At any rate, he clears his throat and gestures to the kitchen table. "Let us sit and discuss things," he says, taking a seat once Telamon is seated. He steeples his fingers together, smiling at Telamon. "So you feel like how I did with my wife," Grandfather says. "That bodes well for your marriage--especially if Cor'lana feels the same, which I imagine she would. After all, I was the one who had to keep her from moving in jitters all about the place when I painted her face for your wedding."

But then he sighs and leans back in the chair. "That about confirms what I saw on my way here," he says. "I thought I had spotted Glorenacil and Cor'lana as I flew over the marketplace. But I knew there wasn't a way in all of the Hells that she would be there with him."

Telamon takes his seat, and hooks a finger. There's a stirring in the air, and the pantry opens, a bottle of deep violet wine shot with stars comes floating out along with three glasses. "I'm sure Lana will want a glass as well, when she comes out. I am an attentive husband, after all." His eyes sparkle, despite the gravity of the discussion, as he pours a glass for Grandfather and himself.

"Honestly, probably not. But then, the world is a strange place, and I would not be disappointed if she found some peace when it comes to her sire."

His brows come together. "But to spin out this fantasy, so that Glorenacil is trapped in an illusion... it's cruel. And I know the end of it will be even crueler. Eventually, Glorenacil will be abandoned, left confused, wondering where his daughter has vanished to. I won't deny being angry with him, but damn it, that's not right."

Grandfather can't help but offer a small smirk as the glass of violet-starred wine is poured for him. "Then you'll have little problem with her that is to do with your position as a husband," he says. "Alas, would that I could say the same for all things you face now."

He takes a sip of the glass and sets it down. He fixes Telamon with a more serious stare now as the younger man speaks. "I agree," he says at last. "I would not doubt that is precisely what Ro intends on doing--although I fear that he might be involving the two of you against your will. He is..."

There's a glint of something painful in Grandfather's eyes. "Known to use such tactics."

"Of course," Telamon replies, as though they were discussing a horse race and not an act of psychological sadism. "If nothing else, 'Ro' gets to torment Glorenacil by snatching away the illusion eventually. And he knows it will anger Cor'lana and myself, because despite our dislike of the man, we're not so heartless as to leave him in the claws of such a creature."

Tel takes a sip of his wine, the taste of plum and sweetness keeping the bitterness out of his mouth. "He's always been like this, hasn't he? It's all about getting under your skin, hurting you -- maybe not physically but in your heart. It doesn't matter that it's petty and pathetic, if it gets a rise out of someone."

Grandfather looks almost... uncomfortable as Telamon asks the question. "He always has been," he echoes. "As long as I can remember. But I don't think that it's merely just astonishment from anyone that he's around. He's always chosen his victims, and he's always made them suffer as simultaneously as he can. If he's chosen me, then he's chosen my descendants--and he's chosen you by extension."

He sighs deeply. "I am... sorry, Telamon. I know that you signed up for it, and you swore to be by her side no matter what. But I need to let you know that if it's like what he did to me, what you might endure might test your marriage to her."

Telamon shakes his head slowly. "We all have burdens to bear, Grandfather. Every family has its black sheep... some blacker than others." He rubs his chin. "No, I made my vows willingly and without restriction. If 'Ro' wishes to torment my wife, then he will reckon with me."

Tel's eyes grow hard, dark, the stars one by one vanishing. "They say revenge is a dish best served cold. I will show him what cold is, if I must." He exhales. "Petty, stupid games. Some of us have grown up and have no time for such games."

Grandfather nods, but there's still that stricken look in his eyes. "You will likely have to give him that," he says. "I couldn't get him to leave my wife alone until I left him so bloodied that I feared the roses in my garden would never be red again. I tore out his throat and swore to him that I would retrieve a weapon of eternal death to finish the job if he ever harassed my wife again."

He looks at Telamon. "The things that he subjected her to--to /me/--she didn't want to embrace me again for weeks, because my violet eyes reminded her of him. Especially since he liked to wear my form to fool her, and..."

A hiss leaves Grandfather's mouth. "He never got far with his seductions. My wife figured him out quickly enough."

Telamon's expression actually gets colder, if that's possible. "I'm surprised you let him continue to ... exist. Or at least, roam freely. There are stories of both mortals and others who dared -- and found themselves in a far worse fate than death." He doesn't dare bring up the weapon.

"How good is he at playacting as others? I was able to catch him, but... if he tries to wear -my- countenance I worry Lana might be taken in." His lips quirk. "Of course, if he does and she finds out, he may find her wrath as terrible as my own."

Grandfather sighs. "Well enough that I caught him mid-embrace with my wife kissing him," he says. "He was good enough the first time around to imitate me, because he'd observed how I behaved with her. But after that time, she and I began to establish cues that let her know it was truly me and not him."

His lips purse. "Of course, I forgave her for the embrace and the kiss. She had no clue that it wasn't me. But it took her a long time before she forgave /herself/, and that was the aspect that hurt me the most."

Telamon curses softly. "Clever. Very clever. Perhaps..." He furrows his brow, thinking. "There might be ways. Magic. And cues, as you say. But Lana and I will need to discuss them." He clenches his fist, then opens it again. "Well... forewarned is forearmed, as the saying goes. I wonder if the hallow might interfere with him as well. I'll have to study that."

He leans back, tapping his fingertips together, before taking another drink of wine and looking at Grandfather sympathetically. "Your wife must have been furious with herself for being taken in. Even by someone as... clever as he. I'm glad she managed to get past it."

"Hand signals," Grandfather suggests. "Or certain phrases. As I recall, one that we used often were, 'The begonias look lively in the garden today.' I didn't keep begonias, so we knew that if the other party agreed, then it was likely to be him impersonating."

He nods soberly. "She was very upset," he says. "My wife was incredibly loyal to me. She never had the slightest interest in straying from our marriage--even when I made the mistake of taking her to courtly events that I was summoned to, and she was surrounded by all manner of people who were physically handsome and lovely. She took her vows as seriously as you take yours to Cor'lana."

Grandfather smiles a little. "When it was all over, however," he says, "we were stronger than ever."

Telamon looks thoughtful. "I wonder... does he know handspeech? I like the idea of referencing flowers... considering we have a garden as well, a false line might serve us well." He sighs. "Of course, then it's like the fisherman who caught a reefclaw. Very impressive, but what do you -do- with it?"

"Aside from the obvious -- cold iron, which I don't think my wife, or you, or even the pixies would appreciate -- what might give him pause? What could we do to force him to back down? Would he honor an oath, one taken under force -- 'don't bother us again or we'll bury you in the garden'?"

"I imagine he has the capacity to understand Handspeech or other languages," Grandfather replies, "so I wouldn't trust using another language. However, if Cor'lana were to tell you that she doesn't understand Handspeech--that would be a reason to be suspicious."

There's a mischievous look on Grandfather's face. "Or ask Cor'lana questions of an intimate matter. If she can't answer, or answers with something blatantly false, then it's not her. I've never known him to be a voyeur, and I doubt that he can come into your home or send anything into the home to find out, due to the blessing you have on this home."

It's at that moment that Cor'lana steps out of the bathroom--thankfully wearing a robe. "You had to go and ruin my surprise for Telamon, didn't you, Grandfather," she says with a playful pout.

"Oh, I can leave if you promise it'll result in grandchildren," Grandfather replies quickly, a grin on his face as he lifts the wine glass to his lips. "And to answer your question, Telamon--an oath sounds best. Oath under force even better. He cannot break that so long as he tried."

Telamon smirks. "Oh, I'm sure Lana and I can come up with some challenges and counter-words. 'Tis twice the pleasure, to deceive the deceiver." He knocks back the last of the wine, before considering. "Not a voyeur, but he likes to play. Hm. I can work with this."

When Cor'lana steps out, he smiles at her fondly. "Everything you do for me is both expected and a surprise, love. It's what makes our life so much fun." He fills a wineglass for her. "I was discussing your Grandfather's sorry cousin with him, and what his next move might be. Unfortunately, the fellow is fond of impersonating people, so we'll have to come up with some signs shared between us. And then if we can... we can threaten an oath out of him to take off and not bother us again." His eyes meet Lana's.

"I caught most of it while I was soaking in the bath," Cor'lana says as she takes the wineglass from Telamon with a kiss on the lips, pulling a chair up next to his and resting her hand on his knee. "You weren't exactly keeping quiet. Odd that you don't consider him a voyeur, Grandfather. I suppose of all of the villainous things he might do, I... expected to just have 'unnecessary intimate knowledge of us' to be on the list, too."

Grandfather puts his glass down. "Because you love each other dearly," he says. "He has no interest in watching what is true and... 'pure' is a word that I find that mortals overuse, but it's the best I have in the common tongue. You are no Matron Mantidalia, who beheads her husbands in the middle of the act. /That/ is the sort of taste that he has."

Cor'lana just shudders. "No," she says, looking into Telamon's eyes, "neither of us are a Matron Mantidalia. Where in the world would I find another Telamon on such short notice?" She grins, but he knows that look in her eyes. She's just as ready to take on the Rook as he is.

Telamon tilts his head, looking thoughtful. "It makes sense. He's probably repulsed by honest warmth, love, affection... positive aspects." A glitter suddenly in his eyes. "He won't know how to deal with it. We'll have to put our heads together to work on it, but... we can handle the Rook."

Confidence surges within him -- reasonable amounts of it, anyways. A fool, not an idiot. Tel taps his fingertips together. "I need to think on these. We both do. But I think we can beat this bastard at his game."

Cor'lana smiles at Telamon, her hand squeezing his leg in a gesture of their shared conviction--and her affection for him. "I know we can," she says. "We can defeat him, and thwart him off our trail forever. If we get him to swear the right oath, then maybe he will never bother any of our children, either."

"Do what I should have done," Grandfather says to Cor'lana and Telamon with a fond smile. Not even discussing his cousin can thwart the smile on his face that results from seeing his granddaughter and her husband in love, and in unity. "But for now--I happen to be here, and I am not headed back until the winds calm down some more. So..."

His eyes dance with amusement. "Let's see how much more of the night sky I can see in your ceiling, shall we?" Apparently the effect of the magical wine has kicked in for him.