You are a guest in my 'home', and a friend. I would do no less. [She goes to another pantry with more bottles. Some are labeled, some have stamped glass, others she clearly just has to go by color, shape, and contents. The bottle she selects looks a hell of a lot like an ordinary microbrew or import, but the language on it is nearly impossible to read because it doesn't seem to want to be read.] Tell me if you need another. [Mab offers the bottle.]
Ritual is for focus and control. This is more a matter of biological process. [Laced with magic, but still.]
Slowed him to a stop a few times, but I always make the mistake of feeding him. [Mab doesn't bother to clarify exactly who might think it was a mistake.]
[How Mab has memorized the contents of so many bottles is beyond her. Oni's too far gone for actual reading, so the mysterious label escapes her, but when she twists off the top and takes a sip, it's obviously not made from anything she's ever tried before. She wonders, absently, if it's even a grain that grows in her plane of existence.] Well, that certainly does th'trick. Jesus H. Christ, I'm gonna be seein' double in a minute.
Huh. Probably somethin' you prefer t'do alone, then. [For some reason, she insanely thinks of a serpent shedding its skin. A very glamorous snake.]
[That makes her laugh.] Oui, I'd say that's definitely where you messed up.
[If they didn't have the relationship they did, Mab's smile and enjoyment of Oni eating and drinking her food would be potentially upsetting with the possible blackmail. As it is, Mab is simply enjoying playing host.] As long as it's only double.
Very likely. The arrival of spring is a bit like dying every year.
Of course, if I don't, tacos just start showing up.
[Oni has heard, and to some extent seen, what the consequences of accepting the fae's hospitality might be, but they've crossed that line so many times by now; Had it been another faerie, and not her very good friend, she'd be far less inclined to accept such an offering, as they came at such a high cost.] Experience has taught me t'aim for th'middle, in those situations. Unless it's a trickster spirit, in which case, ugh... Just... They're impossible. Oh! Is it true you've got a wine that'll drive th'gods mad?
That sounds... Vaguely uncomfortable. How d'you prepare for it? And does that mean you're reborn each autumn?
[She snorts into her drink.] Random ass tacos materializing in your kitchen? I reckon there's worse things...
Shame is an emotion that is much more useful in others than myself.
Wise choice. [Mab's eyes flicker over the shelves until she spots the bottle that contains such a wine.] Technically it's a fortified wine. The combination of the different liquors is what tends to get the effect.
Discomfort is certainly a factor. When I had my court, we all suffered the transition together, so there was little need to prepare specifically. This year, we will see. As for the autumn, well, there's a reason I've always particularly enjoyed Halloween and its predecessors.
The tacos are not the issue. The delivery people can be.
[She tries mightily to follow Mab's glance but, let's face it, she's already too drunk for that. For a brief moment-- call it temporary insanity --Oni wonders what a wine that would twist the gods tastes like, but some curiosities don't need satisfying.] Th'fact that you even have it is sayin' somethin'. How many gods have you driven 'round th'bend with that stuff? Remind me never t'piss you off.
Oh, boy. I bet that was a fun time t'be around in your court. Everyone's goin' through collective PMS on steroids. It wouldn't surprise me if people made themselves scarce, that time of year.
[She sniggers into her beer.] I can just imagine. Are they shit tacos, or does he at least order quality?
Sometimes gods want to lose themselves before the world loses them. I have used it more often in mercy than in revenge. [Mab is thoughtful in her mulling, but doesn't expand with actual numbers or her occasional role as psychopomp.]
Things generally just slow down. We do have the practice of going through the cycle for many centuries, and it's clearly predictable. Much like PMS, I suppose.
[She pulls a thoughtful look, albeit a little blearily.] So it's true, then. When they're forgotten, th'gods simply cease t'be. Maybe a blessin' in disguise, if y'ask me.
Do y'have a my body is doing this crap again routine, then?
None, whatsoever. [Oni wrinkles her nose and sticks her tongue out.] I guess it's too much t'hope that some class woulda rubbed off on him-- At least where food is concerned. Some of th'shit he consumes just boggles th'mind. If it weren't for his healin' factor, I'm tellin' you, he'd have died of food poisonin' a lonnnng time ago.
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You are a guest in my 'home', and a friend. I would do no less. [She goes to another pantry with more bottles. Some are labeled, some have stamped glass, others she clearly just has to go by color, shape, and contents. The bottle she selects looks a hell of a lot like an ordinary microbrew or import, but the language on it is nearly impossible to read because it doesn't seem to want to be read.] Tell me if you need another. [Mab offers the bottle.]
Ritual is for focus and control. This is more a matter of biological process. [Laced with magic, but still.]
Slowed him to a stop a few times, but I always make the mistake of feeding him. [Mab doesn't bother to clarify exactly who might think it was a mistake.]
no subject
[How Mab has memorized the contents of so many bottles is beyond her. Oni's too far gone for actual reading, so the mysterious label escapes her, but when she twists off the top and takes a sip, it's obviously not made from anything she's ever tried before. She wonders, absently, if it's even a grain that grows in her plane of existence.] Well, that certainly does th'trick. Jesus H. Christ, I'm gonna be seein' double in a minute.
Huh. Probably somethin' you prefer t'do alone, then. [For some reason, she insanely thinks of a serpent shedding its skin. A very glamorous snake.]
[That makes her laugh.] Oui, I'd say that's definitely where you messed up.
no subject
[If they didn't have the relationship they did, Mab's smile and enjoyment of Oni eating and drinking her food would be potentially upsetting with the possible blackmail. As it is, Mab is simply enjoying playing host.] As long as it's only double.
Very likely. The arrival of spring is a bit like dying every year.
Of course, if I don't, tacos just start showing up.
no subject
[Oni has heard, and to some extent seen, what the consequences of accepting the fae's hospitality might be, but they've crossed that line so many times by now; Had it been another faerie, and not her very good friend, she'd be far less inclined to accept such an offering, as they came at such a high cost.] Experience has taught me t'aim for th'middle, in those situations. Unless it's a trickster spirit, in which case, ugh... Just... They're impossible. Oh! Is it true you've got a wine that'll drive th'gods mad?
That sounds... Vaguely uncomfortable. How d'you prepare for it? And does that mean you're reborn each autumn?
[She snorts into her drink.] Random ass tacos materializing in your kitchen? I reckon there's worse things...
no subject
Wise choice. [Mab's eyes flicker over the shelves until she spots the bottle that contains such a wine.] Technically it's a fortified wine. The combination of the different liquors is what tends to get the effect.
Discomfort is certainly a factor. When I had my court, we all suffered the transition together, so there was little need to prepare specifically. This year, we will see. As for the autumn, well, there's a reason I've always particularly enjoyed Halloween and its predecessors.
The tacos are not the issue. The delivery people can be.
no subject
[She tries mightily to follow Mab's glance but, let's face it, she's already too drunk for that. For a brief moment-- call it temporary insanity --Oni wonders what a wine that would twist the gods tastes like, but some curiosities don't need satisfying.] Th'fact that you even have it is sayin' somethin'. How many gods have you driven 'round th'bend with that stuff? Remind me never t'piss you off.
Oh, boy. I bet that was a fun time t'be around in your court. Everyone's goin' through collective PMS on steroids. It wouldn't surprise me if people made themselves scarce, that time of year.
[She sniggers into her beer.] I can just imagine. Are they shit tacos, or does he at least order quality?
no subject
Sometimes gods want to lose themselves before the world loses them. I have used it more often in mercy than in revenge. [Mab is thoughtful in her mulling, but doesn't expand with actual numbers or her occasional role as psychopomp.]
Things generally just slow down. We do have the practice of going through the cycle for many centuries, and it's clearly predictable. Much like PMS, I suppose.
He prefers quantity over quality. No shock there.
no subject
[She pulls a thoughtful look, albeit a little blearily.] So it's true, then. When they're forgotten, th'gods simply cease t'be. Maybe a blessin' in disguise, if y'ask me.
Do y'have a my body is doing this crap again routine, then?
None, whatsoever. [Oni wrinkles her nose and sticks her tongue out.] I guess it's too much t'hope that some class woulda rubbed off on him-- At least where food is concerned. Some of th'shit he consumes just boggles th'mind. If it weren't for his healin' factor, I'm tellin' you, he'd have died of food poisonin' a lonnnng time ago.
no subject
Depends on the god. There are many afterlives. Even for those that were once divine.
Not entirely. Most often I would compensate by spending time in colder places as I could to draw on the outside energy for strength.
You aren't wrong, but the healing factor is very much a part of him as he is at the moment.