As I’m staring down towards Prinrin, and gazing into her eyes, able to see her emotions swim back and forth from grief, to lust, to safe comfort, and all around a whirlpool of mixed feelings, my son leaps into my mindscape. Roughhousing with Lucky in my mindscape, I’m not altogether too surprised when he arrives, with Trixxie and the Callipygian in tow. Whew, at least that’s one less mystery and worry. For me anyway. Trixxie looks as worried as anything could be, while the Callipygian seems weary, curious, but weary.
Standing, almost regretting it as Prinrin clamps her teeth deeply into my neck, causing me to nearly lose a mouthful of flesh, I levitate Prinrin as she resumes her perch on my hip. Blushing, I introduce the lot, “Pawn, Prinrin, these are the Callipygian, and, um, it was Kelsinzecktrix, right Trixxie? Vice versa, welcome to our home you two, these are our beloved Pawn, and my beloved The Copper, Prinrin.”
Suddenly mentally facepalming once more, I contact Miraina telepathically, “Hey, stick around in private after these two leave, please Pawn? I’ve got something I want to give you. It, well, it might just help you feel safer.” She perks up a bit, raising a scaled brow towards me, so I just flash her a warm, loving smile, as she continues to mull over her recent revelation.
Trixxie answers my greeting, “Yes, um, Kelsie. Or Trixxie if we’re friends please. You’ve uh, you’ve been calling me Trixxie, and everyone here seems really, really friendly. But your do— son, your son, um. I find myself at the end of his enormous snout very, very, very frequently, terrifyingly frequently.”
Biting my lips I accidentally snort a laugh as I try to fight finding her admission humorous in order to prevent myself from grinning. Apologizing, I start off, “I’m so sorry. I’ve never seen Lucky take to someone like you. He really, really likes you. His tail won’t stop wagging, and across our psychic wavelength, he keeps thinking the words tasty, and pretty, over and over. Erm, I guess that one probably isn’t very reassuring if you reverse it.” Realizing that I probably made things worse, I quickly add, “He thinks his whole family is tasty though, and spends a lot of time knocking us over with his enormous tongue. If you start to bond with him, I’m sure he’d respond to your desires if you tell him you have preferences, like less licking or less being carried around in his mouth. He might not stop entirely. He certainly hasn’t stopped entirely with any of us, but, well, he is still part hound after all.”
Trixxie contemplates what I’ve said, while the Callipygian announces, “If we’re being informal, I’d prefer Pidge, rather than my, erm, title. I’d, well, I’ve been bested in a way no other has ever been capable of when traveling with master Laombigla. I submit myself to your desires.”
My face contorts. That sounds like he expects me to—, bleh. Raising a brow, I respond, “My only desire for you or anyone is to lead a happy, peaceful life, where you don’t harm others, especially not those weaker than you. Obviously defending yourself, or our home, is fine, that’s not the type of harm I’m talking about. I’m talking about a peace that leaves others, innocents essentially, free from pain, or from tyranny. That’s what this entire war is about. Freedom to pursue a happy, peaceful life, for everyone amongst dragonkind, and honestly the whole of Rayileklia. It sucks that I’m going to have to murder so many of you to get the point across.”
Facepalming, I could definitely have worded that better. Trying to apologize, I clarify, “Sorry, I mean murder so many dragonkind under Terrorzin’s forces. Not you two specifically. I must sound awful half the time. I’m horrible at speaking to others. I consider myself a murderer, despite having titles like Hero. Anyway, anyone who starts trouble in Solace, well, you can guess what I’d do. I had to threaten one of our own citizens to death, more or less, because she was a danger to everyone else. I’ll be less merciful to anyone who’s accepted my mercy, or surrendered, that attempts to harm any Solace resident.”
I really can’t stop facepalming today. I should just never speak. Poor Leeza. I’m pretty sure she heard me basically say I threatened her to death. I wonder if she’d laugh that off, or think I’m full of myself, or at least, if she would have, before she was a victim of my rage. Still, I’m not sure I’m comfortable having one of the Evil Claws just roaming around, being herded down to our project spaces in Mount Verdimenn.
I do trust Lucky to be able to handle Pidge though. Apparently, now with whatever equipment Te just gave him, he can fly, and let loose boosted cones of cold almost non stop for a while, and his foreclaws have a brisk chilling mist that add frost to his attacks. Plus, that tattoo looks cool as hell on him, though I’ve no idea what the hell it does. It seems to somehow have a reactionary trigger on its own, that has something to do with injury and movement, once per day.
Startling me slightly, Pawn stalks back over to me, and leans against me, pressing her chest into my shoulder to use my head as a pillow. I can feel her frowning, almost pouting, as she’s stuck trying to figure out her emotions about realizing her gender preferences, or sexuality. I’ve never been in contact with someone who was starting that part of their journey of their identity, so I don’t know how to help her. I wish I could. Poor Miraina. Still, while she’s fumbling through that journey, she’s starting to latch onto me as a safe space, which, well, I’ll try to be for her, but the way she’s doing it—. Sighing, I’ll just try my best to not react poorly to the things she’s doing that I know are more about testing her own emotions, than anything to do with me.
I can sense Prinrin’s gratitude for how much I love, care for, and want to help out Pawn. Prinny could perhaps coach Miraina in ways, but I doubt Pawn wants to have those talks with her mother right now, while she’s figuring herself out. I know Pawn and Prinny are the sort of “everybody’s friend” type people, but I do worry that Pawn doesn’t have any of the intimate ties to people within a subgroup that might let her explore her identity—. Well, I guess that’s why she’s latching onto me.
Drawing Lucky over to me, he nudges Trixxie my way, but I make sure she can sit comfortably nearby while I roughhouse with Lucky, and kiss his snoot repeatedly. He maintains a large enough size to bowl me over with his enormous tongue, knocking Miraina and Prinrin from their positions, though I catch them with my telekinetic grips. I jokingly make a, “See?” gesture to Trixxie.
After observing this, Trixxie seems to calm slightly as she asks, “So, so this really isn’t some long, drawn out, death by dragondog bite? He really just likes doing that? I—.” At least she was calming until Lucky turned away from me to bring his snout close to Trixxie, after which she squeals and rambles, “Eek! S-sorry. Hi, Lucky is it? Hi. Hi there. Um, I’m, hi, I’m Trixxie. Why am I talking to a—. A son, of course, right.”
Loosing a single scoffing laugh, I fight a smirk. I’m glad Trixxie caught herself. Lucky is not just some dog or hound. While some pet owners might think their pets are “people too,” Lucky literally has proven sapience, and some telepathic speech ability. He really is a family member, that was created through a strange combined semi-biological-semi-magic process.
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Listening in, I hear Trixxie questioning quietly, “You’re, you’re really friendly aren’t you big guy? You only hurt your enemies, right? I’m a friend now, right? And, I guess Pidge too? That feels so weird, to be calling one of the Evil Claws by a nickname. What sort of things are you thinking about Lucky? Why was I in your mouth and teeth so much?”
When Lucky whuffs quietly in answer to Trixxie’s questions, the yeses or noes, I’m struggling to keep my face straight, and to not smile. When he can’t answer Trixxie’s non yes-or-no questions, I hear him simply thinking tasty and pretty again. Sometimes he’s a bit simple in some ways. At least, simple to please. Still, I’ll let her figure it out. Or maybe Lucky will figure out how to write with his scarf, and learn to read and write.
When Pawn tugs at me, and sends emotional wavelengths begging privacy, I’m confused, but I relent. Prinrin remains behind with Lucky, Trixxie, and Pidge. Where did Teuila get off to anyway? Well, I’ll check in on her in a while. I’ve got a migraine and my jaw is starting to lock up and form a tension headache, so it probably won’t be that long til I start looking to head to bed with those that want to bed together for the night. I can at least attend to whatever Miraina needs for now though, I think, probably. I’ll be back soon Prinrin, I think.
Unable to find anywhere else without volunteers meandering around, or milling about, the only place with any privacy that I can think of, is my vault. I feel more than a little like an ass, or a creep, for leading Miraina to my vault, especially when I sense Prinrin’s very deviant-minded teases. Sighing to myself, I sit on the bed we’d created in my vault, and Miraina sits a ways away, facing me.
Almost surprisingly, Miraina straightforwardly asks, “You, you’re neither, like, as an identity, right? You straight up don’t want to be called, or be a him or her, right?”
Nodding, I start to respond, but before I can explain, Miraina continues, “Even though you’re a shapeshifter, a changeling, you could, but don’t want to be. So, so if someone wanted you to be, it would be unfair to you. I don’t know how to, to—. I didn’t know I like girls until I heard Leezahna say she didn’t. Then I couldn’t stop thinking about her and Ixeyla, and what they might have been doing after getting tipsy.”
Now I begin flushing heatedly, as I was trying to not picture that exact scenario. I grimace, trying not to make Pawn feel bad or awkward for bringing it up. I wait patiently as she continues, “I kind of thought, that maybe I’d be a clutcher, a late one, from being a runt, but, but I don’t know. Thinking about it now, I don’t want most of that. I do still want—. Ugh. Schism, you don’t even—. Half the reason I wasn’t interested, was because of, of not being able to have that. But now I’m not sure about that half of the reason. But the other half of the reason, I didn’t even know until now, and now I don’t know what that means. Do you know what I mean?”
As much as I’d like to tease and joke with Miraina right now, I respond, “I do, I get it. Identity is hard. Sometimes you might feel like you have to stick to, or adhere to, a strict definition of an identity for yourself, and maybe for you, that’s the true way to be you. For other people, that’s not necessarily the case. Only you can really know that though. I generally don’t like to think in absolutes, though I’m sure I do it as frequently as anyone else. If you feel though, and what I’m guessing at is, that you’re attracted to women, and just realizing it, and you’re confused on whether or not you’re attracted to, well, someone with my default state of identity or my non-biology, you don’t owe anyone any explanations as you piece that together. I’m not a man, but I’m also not a woman, you’re right.”
Holding my hand up placatingly, I continue, “You don’t have to let possibly being attracted to someone matter to your identity necessarily. Or if you’re certain you are attracted to someone, but you have mixed feelings about it, because it clashes with your identity, you can go the path of least resistance. That might be to simply ignore whatever feelings in that realm might pop up. Even if you have fallen for someone, or are attracted to someone, of a gender that doesn’t fit your identity, despite feeling like you’ve narrowed in on an identity for yourself. You don’t have to act on that. Y’know? If it hurts or confuses you to have to question this new identity that you’ve just stumbled into for yourself, because your definition of it is strict, I’m certainly not going to hold it against you for not pursuing someone agender or sexless or anything. I mean, it’s probably better if you don’t act on any confusing attraction, y’know? You’re a wonderful lady though Pawn. I don’t know if I’m helping, or just rambling.”
Pawn mulls it over while frowning at me. I kind of want her to tell me I’m full of myself, that she was just using me as a sounding board after realizing she feels like she identifies as a lesbian. If that is the case, she’s remaining silent to let me stew on the subject. Now we’re sitting here on my bed, facing each other, and it’s getting more than a little awkward. Worse, my hypersensitive hearing is beginning to pick up sounds from Lil’s vault. I didn’t want to shut the giant vault door behind us, because I didn’t want Miraina to feel trapped. Or to imply to anyone outside that I was—, yeah.
It feels like minutes tick by before Miraina speaks, so I motion as if to leave, to see if she wants to, but instead she motions to the door while blushing, requesting that I close it to block out the sounds of Lil and Ixeyla. Once done, she muses, “So, maybe I don’t for sure know what title or label I want for that part of me, yet, I guess. I mean, it’s not like I’ve even tried to date anyone of any gender, I was playing the kid card to hide being a runt. I just never thought as long and hard about a—. Please forget I said that that way. Do you think I should date someone, a guy—. I just suddenly can’t imagine it though. Being with a guy. I always sort of thought I would, and was just hoping that I’d have—, well, grow out of being a runt. Now I specifically can’t stop thinking about two ladies. What the heck am I supposed to do?”
My tension headache begins to throb harder, making it difficult to focus, but I do my best to respond, “Well, that’s the thing Pawn, there’s no supposed to, for what you do. You just be you. If you’re thinking about them, and you’re extroverted enough, you can ask them out, or ask them to be a makeout partner, or whatever sounds right at the time. Rejection can happen, which I know sucks, but you’re an amazing, charming, lovely lady. If they even say no, it could sting. They might say yes though. Anyway, when the sting of rejection heals, if you even have to go through feeling it, you’ll find someone that suits who you are with enough patience. Despite me not being the type of person who could do what I’m suggesting, I recommend you ask the two women you’re thinking about. I’d just, uh, wait til Ixey’s sober, to get an honest answer.”
Pawn snorts a laugh and rolls her eyes before responding, “Duh.”
Despite her response, I can tell she’s picturing talking to Ixey while Ixey is in flirty fun drunk mode, hoping that Ixey’ll want to make out. She flushes heatedly in embarrassment as she realizes how open her emotions are to me, while she hears my internal monologue. I can’t blame Pawn though, Ixey was incredibly enticing to spend time with. She was coherent, but exuding desire with her inhibitions down as far as they were. Being desired is a really nice feeling, so I could see wanting to be on the end of that. Hm. Pawn’s predicament makes me think about Zayzi, and wonder where they are.
Zayzi might fit Pawn’s ideals, between looking like Ixey, and, well, yeah, the specific thing Pawn is struggling with, while also giving Pawn a way to explore her own comfort with an agendered individual. Zayzi of course would have the no kissing rule, and I’m sure Pawn can respect boundaries, but I don’t know how long she’d last in a relationship like that, with how much her hormones seem to be raging with desire tonight. This really is none of my business, and I’d definitely not push anyone towards Zayzi though, because of Zayzi’s extreme discomfort with most social things. Plus, pointing someone at an agendered person, and saying they’re your bio-attracted type is kinda crappy. It seems like maybe that’d kind of be disrespecting or invalidating their gender identity, maybe? It depends on how heavily they identify their gender in opposition to their sex, instead of in addition to it. Seems like maybe a case-by-case basis sort of thing.