Blind trust.
[This happened long ago, but I never got around to posting it before having to leave.]
[Laelys earns Roque's trust by forcing her to choose between her senses and his conflicting word. Closeness ensues.]
Upwarp -- Beta Sector
[...]
Roque tilts her head to the side. "Actually, I would be interested in hearing what you've learned, if you don't mind sharing."
Tiny moist noise: thin tonguetip running over parting lips, maybe. "Probably not here. Too public," says Laelys, his voice subdued, a little, but with a sudden, subtle edge. "Would you follow me to somewhere more appropriate?"
Roque flicks her ears. "If you wish..."
"I do," answers the dragon, simply. Then he begins to pad away, his steps a little louder than they normally should, quite possibly: setting a trail of sound for you to follow.
[...]
Upwarp -- Omega Sector
Roque turns her head slowly, listening to the echoes of her own footsteps and the occasional tap of her cane. "Where is this place? I don't recognize this station."
Laelys explains quietly, "I installed something you could call a place of my own; there is no automated transportation to there, and the path is long. Follow me! Don't stray!" He begins to walk into what seems like a random direction. "This is the Omega sector of Up. Come now! Don't stray! There's an entrance gate not far."
Roque continues to follow in the wake of your footsteps.
At Laelys's side
Roque strains her ears, trying to pick out anything in the air or her footsteps that would tell her where she is, or where we're going. "Are we still in Up?"
Laelys pads on, briskly, although not so much that you cannot follow. "We're taking a long corridor that is going down slightly," he continues to explain. "There are many schematics painted on the wall, quite detailed. They're of various technological complexity. I believe they are all dedicated to ways of suppressing discomfort, worry, suffering. Or causing painless death; I'm not sure which." His voice comes from ahead, not very far ahead, but out of immediate reach. He doesn't answer your query about Up, but then, you only walked with him from the Omega station for a few instants at most, didn't you?
Roque listens to your explanations. "It sounds more like Charm; a hidden gate?" The statement about causing death, though, gives her a slight pause. "Was... was that a joke, Laelys?" She smiles slightly, almost in disbelief that you could willingly indulge in humor.
"Follow me," says Laelys softly, somewhere ahead. "The corridor comes to an end here. Don't stray! The way is still long. Do you remember colors? There are many colors in the room this corridor leads to."
Roque tilts her head to the side. "I remember colors, yes; what they are, at least...." she speaks as she tries to keep up with you.
Laelys is ahead, possibly further ahead now. Around you, echoes suddenly broaden: this is a vast open space. "We're in a broad room," Laelys describes, his voice oddly dampened, "There are waterfalls climbing up the walls, and behind each of them, there's a light source of a different color. All the colors dance and mix on the walls and ceiling. This is a beautiful room. Come now! Follow me!" But despite the silence of this place, his voice seems to come from nowhere at all, and there's no telling where exactly he is, what direction to follow.
Roque stops, rapping her cane sharply against the ground. "Laelys, something isn't right here. This room... wherever it is... there's no sound of water falling, no echoes... nothing to indicate the space you're describing... Laelys? Where.. where are you?"
Laelys's voice is even softer, almost an apology, although a certain subtle tensedness in his tone may suggest that he knows very well what you're feeling. "I'm here," he says. "Turn to your right. No, not so much... There! A few steps ahead now. I'm there. Follow me!" There's a short, possibly purposeful pause. "Or we can stop there, and I'll lead you back to the station, if you'd rather. What do you decide?" An edge of a different kind is now in his voice. If you have any ear for this sort of things, your answer matters to him more than he wishes you to know.
Roque cocks her head to the side. "I'm willing to follow where you lead, Laelys; I just want to know where we are. You're giving me information conflicting with my senses, and I don't understand why." Her words are slow and deliberate, carefully chosen and delivered in as neutral a tone as she can.
Laelys keks a sound-nod, not far, really not far. "We are on the road to a place of my own. The way starts in an unused part of Up, which you know, and leads to a place I call my own, which you don't know. I am giving you the information your senses are missing. Being your eyes. This is only fair, since you don't know the road we are taking. Do you wish to keep following me?" Could it be dread in his voice, dread that you'll answer negatively?
Roque scowls slightly, but motions forward. "You know the way, Laelys. Lead on."
"Let's go, then," says the dragon, and the sound of his steps resumes. "Forward. Hmm, turn ten degrees to your left, there, I'd say. Right! Straight ahead now. We're going to pass through this waterfall. It has a pretty color: the water is black, but seems trimmed with violet at the edges. Pass underneath. Come now! There, one more step and you're through." And indeed, with that step, the sounds and echoes narrow around you. "We're in another corridor. This one is level. Are you alright? It's not much further now."
Roque taps her cane against the ground, making it chirp softly. "I'm fine, Laelys; is it much further? We're some distance from where we started."
Laelys walks on, ahead, not far, maybe even enticingly close, although he always seems to manage to remain out of touch. "When we've made it through this corridor," he says, slowly -- reluctance? -- "we'll almost be there. If you want to go back, just ask me. I'll lead you out. Watch out, turn just a few degrees to your right. Don't stray!" He takes a long breath, and resumes his work as your eyes: "This corridor is narrow, but fairly tall. The walls are a strange color, almost orange, although it seems to be a slightly different shade everytime you look. Sometimes more yellow, and sometimes almost a light brown, or grayish. Don't touch the walls. Straight on." And again, that edge of /truthfulness/ in his voice, like he's speaking the truth, since the beginning. And yet he hastens his step some, apparently not aware of how flimsy, unstable the ground feels, like you and he are really on a thin bridge over a dark abyss. The hollow drafts on each side are so tenuous they may be coming from your imagination. The deep sounds that come from far underneath, however, feel a lot more real, like some nameless things down there crawl and watch, and feel our presence, and call for our fall with soundless voices. Somehow, the feel of Laelys's presence ahead remains steady, but doubled by many similar feels, darker, like whatever is lurking below is in some way related to Laelys, closely. And yet he speeds on, further ahead.
Roque slows her step somewhat as the path seems to narrow, the ground shrinking beneath her feet. "Laelys...." For the first time, her voice holds a hint of concern, the updrafts ruffling her robe, making her steps less certain. "Slow down, please," she says. "The footing isn't as even here, and the bridge seems to be narrowing." She doesn't stop in her steps, but she's definitely trying to make sure of each hindpaw's placement before advancing.
Laelys walks on and on, his step urgent now, although he does slow down, a little, to accomodate you. No lingering here. "There is no bridge. Only a corridor." Again, a strange kind of urgency in his voice, like it .matters. that you believe him without delaying. "We're nearing its end. The walls are a soft kind of pink, ever changing as well, but whether the whole corridor changes its color as you walk through, or its color is static and the hue goes from orange to pastel pink along its length, I cannot tell. Do not touch the walls!" Somehow, whenever you probe to the ground to your sides with your cane, its tip finds a surface there, but it has a very flimsy feel, like it's only a spot where the way happens to be broader, and a mere centimeter further your cane would meet dark emptiness. Somehow, as you probe, the presences below begin to feel more concrete. Closer? Yes, it's a certainty.
Roque tries to hasten her steps without losing her footing. Her breath is hastening now, but some part of her is determined to see this through to the end. Laelys' words may no longer match her senses, but in just the last two-dozen paces, that has gone from being a dubious fact to being a welcome one. The ground seems ready to give way at any point, crumbling beneath each step as if what tenuous track behind her had fallen silently into the chasm below not but a few footfalls behind hers. Torn between haste to escape this place, whatever it is, and fear of losing her footing, she forces herself to keep an even pace. She holds her breath, then takes her cane in both paws and grips it in front of her, no longer swinging it or using it to test the edges of her path, just gripping it as she might a rosary to protect her from her self-imposed darkness.
"We're almost there," says the draconid, reassuring, although the urgency doesn't leave his voice. He turns to the left, an odd turn, almost 90 degrees, yet a bit off, as if the architect of this place had started losing his sanity at this point. "The walls are blank here. This may be a long disused part of the Warp, although I am not certain. Come now! Watch out, you're going a little too much to the left. There, better now. Come!" But as he leads you from almost-right angle turn to slightly-off turn, left and right, it becomes clear the presence below has become a presence -behind-, crept out of the abyss, intent on the pursuit. There's a sound just behind you, as if something immense but mercifully slow had just reached out, missed your heels by a fraction of an inch. Like a subsonic groan, the slow anger of some nameless thing. "Almost there," says Laelys, again, and his voice sounds tiny.
Roque jumps suddenly, jerking forward, then staggering to a near-stop. "Laelys!" her voice calls out sharply. "There's... we are not alone here!" she says hastily, trying to at once pick up her pace without putting down her cane and to follow your crazy jig of turns and angles. "This... you aren't leading me into Strange, are you? Are you?" She repeats the question, but doesn't stop her movements, ignoring the way her breath is accelerating, her throat growing tight. Someone or something is in here with them, that much is certain, and yet Laelys says nothing about it, that this is merely a corridor. Who is the liar now, the dragon, or her own ears?
With a last turn to the right, there's suddenly the sound of a door closing just behind. Not a sharp, cold door, see; simply the comfortable sound of a cozy place closing softly, shutting uncozy things out, ensuring the safety of those inside. And yet the sound is oddly sharp: almost certainly a recording. Although the slight change of pressure makes it certain there's indeed a door that closed. It's over. The room is pleasantly warm, and by the precise sounds of echoes, not too large. "We're there," says Laelys, very softly, and he is standing within reach. Easily. Very close. "There's you and I. That's all there is. I promise. But that may be a lot, admittedly." The dragon himself seems a little out of breath. "I offered to lead you back out, several times. Yet you accepted to keep following me. What made you accept?" And the tone is so soft, so soft.
Roque jumps, spinning at the sound of the door, her heart thumping in her ears. "We're--where are we?" She lowers her cane to the floor, tapping against the ground as if testing for terra firma. It chirps comfortably, telling her her footing is sure, which is at once so obvious and so shocking. "This was... a trick?" There's no anger in her voice, just confusion.
"We are in my place," says Laelys, still close, but a bit unsure, maybe. "It is small, so far, and a bit untidy, as I mostly use it for my researches and experiments, but I'll add new rooms when I can." There's a pause, perhaps as he waits for you to regain your composure, feel comfortable here. "I told you the road to my place was long. It /has/ to be long. Otherwise, it you wouldn't /reach/ my place." Something in his elocution may make this a riddle; it is not a difficult one, however. "From now on, you're in my place," he adds in a quieter, warmer voice. A test has been passed. "Why did you accept to follow me, Roque?"
Roque cocks her head to the side, absorbing this information. "I had no reason not to follow you at first," she says slowly, trying to consider her words carefully. "The path grew treacherous, or so it seemed, but... I had no reason to think you would lead me astray. I believe you are not the sort to betray others like that. I was afraid, yes, but... not of you."
"Thank you," says Laelys, with a smile in his voice. "I trust you, too. If you decide to unclose your eyes someday, I'll take you to the waterfall room. It is really beautiful. Do you want me to give you a feel for this room?"
Roque smiles slightly. "Please. I would like to hear about where you live."
There's suddenly the feel of something cool, but not cold, pressing in your neck, and a slight tickling there as Laelys inhales softly. And then he steps away, and begins to walk around the room, giving you time to touch things, find spatial orientation for everything.
[And from there things evolved into such intimate dealings as late night philosophy. But Laelys never figured how much the mental projection through which he led Roque gave out about him -- and the nature of his interest in her.]
[Laelys earns Roque's trust by forcing her to choose between her senses and his conflicting word. Closeness ensues.]
Upwarp -- Beta Sector
[...]
Roque tilts her head to the side. "Actually, I would be interested in hearing what you've learned, if you don't mind sharing."
Tiny moist noise: thin tonguetip running over parting lips, maybe. "Probably not here. Too public," says Laelys, his voice subdued, a little, but with a sudden, subtle edge. "Would you follow me to somewhere more appropriate?"
Roque flicks her ears. "If you wish..."
"I do," answers the dragon, simply. Then he begins to pad away, his steps a little louder than they normally should, quite possibly: setting a trail of sound for you to follow.
[...]
Upwarp -- Omega Sector
Roque turns her head slowly, listening to the echoes of her own footsteps and the occasional tap of her cane. "Where is this place? I don't recognize this station."
Laelys explains quietly, "I installed something you could call a place of my own; there is no automated transportation to there, and the path is long. Follow me! Don't stray!" He begins to walk into what seems like a random direction. "This is the Omega sector of Up. Come now! Don't stray! There's an entrance gate not far."
Roque continues to follow in the wake of your footsteps.
At Laelys's side
Roque strains her ears, trying to pick out anything in the air or her footsteps that would tell her where she is, or where we're going. "Are we still in Up?"
Laelys pads on, briskly, although not so much that you cannot follow. "We're taking a long corridor that is going down slightly," he continues to explain. "There are many schematics painted on the wall, quite detailed. They're of various technological complexity. I believe they are all dedicated to ways of suppressing discomfort, worry, suffering. Or causing painless death; I'm not sure which." His voice comes from ahead, not very far ahead, but out of immediate reach. He doesn't answer your query about Up, but then, you only walked with him from the Omega station for a few instants at most, didn't you?
Roque listens to your explanations. "It sounds more like Charm; a hidden gate?" The statement about causing death, though, gives her a slight pause. "Was... was that a joke, Laelys?" She smiles slightly, almost in disbelief that you could willingly indulge in humor.
"Follow me," says Laelys softly, somewhere ahead. "The corridor comes to an end here. Don't stray! The way is still long. Do you remember colors? There are many colors in the room this corridor leads to."
Roque tilts her head to the side. "I remember colors, yes; what they are, at least...." she speaks as she tries to keep up with you.
Laelys is ahead, possibly further ahead now. Around you, echoes suddenly broaden: this is a vast open space. "We're in a broad room," Laelys describes, his voice oddly dampened, "There are waterfalls climbing up the walls, and behind each of them, there's a light source of a different color. All the colors dance and mix on the walls and ceiling. This is a beautiful room. Come now! Follow me!" But despite the silence of this place, his voice seems to come from nowhere at all, and there's no telling where exactly he is, what direction to follow.
Roque stops, rapping her cane sharply against the ground. "Laelys, something isn't right here. This room... wherever it is... there's no sound of water falling, no echoes... nothing to indicate the space you're describing... Laelys? Where.. where are you?"
Laelys's voice is even softer, almost an apology, although a certain subtle tensedness in his tone may suggest that he knows very well what you're feeling. "I'm here," he says. "Turn to your right. No, not so much... There! A few steps ahead now. I'm there. Follow me!" There's a short, possibly purposeful pause. "Or we can stop there, and I'll lead you back to the station, if you'd rather. What do you decide?" An edge of a different kind is now in his voice. If you have any ear for this sort of things, your answer matters to him more than he wishes you to know.
Roque cocks her head to the side. "I'm willing to follow where you lead, Laelys; I just want to know where we are. You're giving me information conflicting with my senses, and I don't understand why." Her words are slow and deliberate, carefully chosen and delivered in as neutral a tone as she can.
Laelys keks a sound-nod, not far, really not far. "We are on the road to a place of my own. The way starts in an unused part of Up, which you know, and leads to a place I call my own, which you don't know. I am giving you the information your senses are missing. Being your eyes. This is only fair, since you don't know the road we are taking. Do you wish to keep following me?" Could it be dread in his voice, dread that you'll answer negatively?
Roque scowls slightly, but motions forward. "You know the way, Laelys. Lead on."
"Let's go, then," says the dragon, and the sound of his steps resumes. "Forward. Hmm, turn ten degrees to your left, there, I'd say. Right! Straight ahead now. We're going to pass through this waterfall. It has a pretty color: the water is black, but seems trimmed with violet at the edges. Pass underneath. Come now! There, one more step and you're through." And indeed, with that step, the sounds and echoes narrow around you. "We're in another corridor. This one is level. Are you alright? It's not much further now."
Roque taps her cane against the ground, making it chirp softly. "I'm fine, Laelys; is it much further? We're some distance from where we started."
Laelys walks on, ahead, not far, maybe even enticingly close, although he always seems to manage to remain out of touch. "When we've made it through this corridor," he says, slowly -- reluctance? -- "we'll almost be there. If you want to go back, just ask me. I'll lead you out. Watch out, turn just a few degrees to your right. Don't stray!" He takes a long breath, and resumes his work as your eyes: "This corridor is narrow, but fairly tall. The walls are a strange color, almost orange, although it seems to be a slightly different shade everytime you look. Sometimes more yellow, and sometimes almost a light brown, or grayish. Don't touch the walls. Straight on." And again, that edge of /truthfulness/ in his voice, like he's speaking the truth, since the beginning. And yet he hastens his step some, apparently not aware of how flimsy, unstable the ground feels, like you and he are really on a thin bridge over a dark abyss. The hollow drafts on each side are so tenuous they may be coming from your imagination. The deep sounds that come from far underneath, however, feel a lot more real, like some nameless things down there crawl and watch, and feel our presence, and call for our fall with soundless voices. Somehow, the feel of Laelys's presence ahead remains steady, but doubled by many similar feels, darker, like whatever is lurking below is in some way related to Laelys, closely. And yet he speeds on, further ahead.
Roque slows her step somewhat as the path seems to narrow, the ground shrinking beneath her feet. "Laelys...." For the first time, her voice holds a hint of concern, the updrafts ruffling her robe, making her steps less certain. "Slow down, please," she says. "The footing isn't as even here, and the bridge seems to be narrowing." She doesn't stop in her steps, but she's definitely trying to make sure of each hindpaw's placement before advancing.
Laelys walks on and on, his step urgent now, although he does slow down, a little, to accomodate you. No lingering here. "There is no bridge. Only a corridor." Again, a strange kind of urgency in his voice, like it .matters. that you believe him without delaying. "We're nearing its end. The walls are a soft kind of pink, ever changing as well, but whether the whole corridor changes its color as you walk through, or its color is static and the hue goes from orange to pastel pink along its length, I cannot tell. Do not touch the walls!" Somehow, whenever you probe to the ground to your sides with your cane, its tip finds a surface there, but it has a very flimsy feel, like it's only a spot where the way happens to be broader, and a mere centimeter further your cane would meet dark emptiness. Somehow, as you probe, the presences below begin to feel more concrete. Closer? Yes, it's a certainty.
Roque tries to hasten her steps without losing her footing. Her breath is hastening now, but some part of her is determined to see this through to the end. Laelys' words may no longer match her senses, but in just the last two-dozen paces, that has gone from being a dubious fact to being a welcome one. The ground seems ready to give way at any point, crumbling beneath each step as if what tenuous track behind her had fallen silently into the chasm below not but a few footfalls behind hers. Torn between haste to escape this place, whatever it is, and fear of losing her footing, she forces herself to keep an even pace. She holds her breath, then takes her cane in both paws and grips it in front of her, no longer swinging it or using it to test the edges of her path, just gripping it as she might a rosary to protect her from her self-imposed darkness.
"We're almost there," says the draconid, reassuring, although the urgency doesn't leave his voice. He turns to the left, an odd turn, almost 90 degrees, yet a bit off, as if the architect of this place had started losing his sanity at this point. "The walls are blank here. This may be a long disused part of the Warp, although I am not certain. Come now! Watch out, you're going a little too much to the left. There, better now. Come!" But as he leads you from almost-right angle turn to slightly-off turn, left and right, it becomes clear the presence below has become a presence -behind-, crept out of the abyss, intent on the pursuit. There's a sound just behind you, as if something immense but mercifully slow had just reached out, missed your heels by a fraction of an inch. Like a subsonic groan, the slow anger of some nameless thing. "Almost there," says Laelys, again, and his voice sounds tiny.
Roque jumps suddenly, jerking forward, then staggering to a near-stop. "Laelys!" her voice calls out sharply. "There's... we are not alone here!" she says hastily, trying to at once pick up her pace without putting down her cane and to follow your crazy jig of turns and angles. "This... you aren't leading me into Strange, are you? Are you?" She repeats the question, but doesn't stop her movements, ignoring the way her breath is accelerating, her throat growing tight. Someone or something is in here with them, that much is certain, and yet Laelys says nothing about it, that this is merely a corridor. Who is the liar now, the dragon, or her own ears?
With a last turn to the right, there's suddenly the sound of a door closing just behind. Not a sharp, cold door, see; simply the comfortable sound of a cozy place closing softly, shutting uncozy things out, ensuring the safety of those inside. And yet the sound is oddly sharp: almost certainly a recording. Although the slight change of pressure makes it certain there's indeed a door that closed. It's over. The room is pleasantly warm, and by the precise sounds of echoes, not too large. "We're there," says Laelys, very softly, and he is standing within reach. Easily. Very close. "There's you and I. That's all there is. I promise. But that may be a lot, admittedly." The dragon himself seems a little out of breath. "I offered to lead you back out, several times. Yet you accepted to keep following me. What made you accept?" And the tone is so soft, so soft.
Roque jumps, spinning at the sound of the door, her heart thumping in her ears. "We're--where are we?" She lowers her cane to the floor, tapping against the ground as if testing for terra firma. It chirps comfortably, telling her her footing is sure, which is at once so obvious and so shocking. "This was... a trick?" There's no anger in her voice, just confusion.
"We are in my place," says Laelys, still close, but a bit unsure, maybe. "It is small, so far, and a bit untidy, as I mostly use it for my researches and experiments, but I'll add new rooms when I can." There's a pause, perhaps as he waits for you to regain your composure, feel comfortable here. "I told you the road to my place was long. It /has/ to be long. Otherwise, it you wouldn't /reach/ my place." Something in his elocution may make this a riddle; it is not a difficult one, however. "From now on, you're in my place," he adds in a quieter, warmer voice. A test has been passed. "Why did you accept to follow me, Roque?"
Roque cocks her head to the side, absorbing this information. "I had no reason not to follow you at first," she says slowly, trying to consider her words carefully. "The path grew treacherous, or so it seemed, but... I had no reason to think you would lead me astray. I believe you are not the sort to betray others like that. I was afraid, yes, but... not of you."
"Thank you," says Laelys, with a smile in his voice. "I trust you, too. If you decide to unclose your eyes someday, I'll take you to the waterfall room. It is really beautiful. Do you want me to give you a feel for this room?"
Roque smiles slightly. "Please. I would like to hear about where you live."
There's suddenly the feel of something cool, but not cold, pressing in your neck, and a slight tickling there as Laelys inhales softly. And then he steps away, and begins to walk around the room, giving you time to touch things, find spatial orientation for everything.
[And from there things evolved into such intimate dealings as late night philosophy. But Laelys never figured how much the mental projection through which he led Roque gave out about him -- and the nature of his interest in her.]