Zooming into the room quickly, I begin drawing Frostburn for intimidation, when I spy only Xayla and Ixeyla in the room. I blink several times to make sure that it’s not my eyes deceiving me. They don’t seem to be in a physical confrontation.
While sheathing Frostburn, I whisper, “Um, I thought Zayzi was in danger. Sorry. Are you okay Zayzi?”
Xayla nods their head emphatically, so I’m at a loss, until Ixeyla begs, “Pleeeeease sis. You totally know Lil is crushing on me, and I want him to admit it *so* bad. This might be the thing that lets him!”
Ah, now I see why Xayla almost shouted, as Xayla tenses up at the request, looking lost, upset, sad, even betrayed. I would normally offer someone displaying such emotions a hug, but I don’t know if Zayzi would consent to one. We’ve technically held hands I guess, but other than that, our closest physical contact is their complete disregard for personal space when speaking, whispering face-to-face, pretty near literally. I could solve this with a lie, that Lil was either networked out, couldn’t hold any more, or that I didn’t have enough gems or S P, something else that Ixeyla couldn’t double-check. I’d rather not do that though.
Instead of a lie, at a continued whispered level, I offer, “Ixeyla? Lil hasn’t asked me to set one up with you two yet, so he might not be ready, but when he is, I can set up one just for the two of you. Would—“
Ixeyla leaps at me. I don’t want to hurt her, so I brace my back with a telekinetic square, and I’m forced to catch her as she wraps her legs around my waist and arms around my head screaming, “Yes yes yes yes yes yes!”
My face is smooshed into Ixeyla’s sternum as she excitedly bounces during each yes. I avoided a faceful of Farzhi boob today, to end up with a faceful of Ixeyla’s instead. There isn’t a lot of mass on her chest, she’s a string bean whose proportions seem a little wrong, a little too stretched out, but her dragonscale-silk clothing is a thin t-shirt, so the, um, petite masses were still quite noticeable, and not exactly unpleasant.
Well, I think I’ve gotten on her good side at least. Or I did, until she whispers, “But if you hurt Zayzi, that offer won’t stop me from killing you.”
Yeesh. Crisis, maybe averted? I flash Xayla a confused, raised-brow glance, and they shrug unhelpfully. Ixeyla wriggles, so I let go of her body as she clambers down off of mine. Is it weird that I kind of like her more now? Fiercely, and I mean *fiercely* protective of her sibling. I can completely empathize with being willing to kill anyone that threatens family. Hell, I *have* killed people that I felt were threats to my family.
I don’t think Ixeyla stands a chance on carrying through on the threat, but that’s only because she’s a young-adult red dragon. Low temperature flames, and attacks that my body and armor are fairly resistant to wouldn’t kill me before I escaped, or found a way to deal with her that would leave her mostly unharmed. I’m not trying to be cocky about it, I just want to have a plan in place, in case she decides to carry through due to a miscommunication or misunderstanding. I’d prefer not to harm anyone that lives in Mount Solace.
I whisper back to Ixeyla, since she’s still standing right in my face, “I’ve killed to protect and defend my family, so I believe you. I’d never harm Zayzi if I could help it.”
My statement earns me a, “Tch.” But at least she takes a step back, allowing me to walk around her towards Xayla.
I start, “Okay, so, I don’t know if anyone told you about this enchantment proc—“
As both of the siblings immediately remove their shirts, I immediately avert my gaze. I guess they’ve been informed. They could have just morphed their clothing. Wait, how does that even work? Aren’t those clothes their body parts? Or maybe these aren’t dragonscale-silk clothes, and they don’t have enough shapechanging talent yet to create clothes they’d be willing to wear, so they have actual thin clothing.
Clearing my throat, or pretending to cough, while facing away, I continue, “Right, yes. I do need surface area, and I won’t be able to get to your craniums, or most of your necks, because both of you have beautiful masses of luxurious hair that are too thick for me to work through or around. Anyway, that comes after me casting the spell. Since I’m trying to save S P, I’m going to take about twenty four minutes to cast it, if that’s okay with you.”
A whisper answers, “Sure” while Ixeyla answers, “Yeah yeah that’s fine, get the show on the road.”
I can sense with my silent sonar, that they are not taking the opportunity to put their shirts back on, so I carefully walk backwards to the ledge around the spring, and sit on it. I prop my left elbow on my left knee, and rest my chin in my left palm as my right hand works at casting the telepathic bond spell.
While working on the spell, I add, “So, I don’t know if you two are going to prefer a more intimate wavelength, that has more emotional depth to transmit, or one that’s closer to simply just words, with only light traces of emotions. I also don’t know if you want me to attempt to rub your backs while applying the permanency enhancement enchantment. Zayzi? How do you feel about those in order?”
Xayla mutters, “More. Yes.”
As I’m about to ask Ixeyla, she cuts me off, “Less, sure.”
Xayla almost looks hurt according to my silent sonar, and Ixeyla can tell, so she asks, “What? This doofus is going to be in it, I’m not getting intimate with hi—her—them. Them? Them. No disrespect, obviously. Them, right?”
I nod, glad someone that I’m interacting with is willing to check with me on my preferred pronoun. I figure Ixeyla would be good about that, what with their sibling also identifying the same way. The two are sitting on opposite sides of me, both facing slightly away, for which I’m exceedingly grateful, so that I don’t stare at their exposed torsos. Also especially because Xayla tends to lean ridiculously close to say anything, so they’d be leaning back towards me, instead of bending over in front of me if they were still standing.
The pair are identical almost entirely, according to my silent sonar. While they aren’t specimens of absolutely breathtaking beauty, they are fairly pretty, comely, in a fashion. Their appearances are just a bit odd. It’s sort of like giving a fairly talented child a bunch of clay, and asking them to make a pretty person. Even a talented kid is probably going to not do a perfect job of sculpting a whole attractive human. I could see finding them further prettier still in my own regards to them, as time went on, and I got to know them better. They also have centuries of life ahead of them if they care to sculpt their human forms any further, over time. I wouldn’t actually want them to though if I had any say in it, which I most assuredly do not. I just mean to say they’re almost cute’ish, as is.
I mean, honestly, I view the twins about as attractive as I view myself. So maybe they’re actually really attractive to the general populace? Since my duende score seems to think I exude charisma from even just my appearance. Then again, I’ve got Illy calling me a gremlin munchkin crimson smurf. None of that sounds visually flattering, hah.
I wonder if there’s anything I can do to keep these two safe? Ixeyla’s protectiveness of Zayzi endears her to me, and I really like Zayzi. I—
Of course, apparently I’d been lost in thought for nearly half an hour, as Xayla telepathically asks, “You do?”
Time to put up the passive broadcast block for these two as I respond telepathically so that they both can hear, “Yeah, totally, you’re really my kind of friendly, fun, quirky, I totally dig your hair, and your style. You taught me how to cook some food. Yeah, definitely. Was there any doubt?”
Xayla’s reply is simply a neutral, “Oh.”
Still a dragon of few words I see. Ixeyla looks like she’s about to take off, but I motion for her to lay down on the ledge, so that I can put the permanency enhancement enchantment up. Working out the currently correct amount of gem dust ratio for Ixeyla is easy, a first time layering. Xayla’s is the same proportion. Mine is quite a bit more complex, and my brain feels heavy under the strain of the load.
As I’m doing the calculations, Xayla surprises me by privately speaking quite a bit more, “She’s bugging me to try to date you. Tell her you don’t like me, that you think I’m weird, or dumb. I don’t want to date anyone, not now, not ever.”
Since I’d rather not get on their sister’s bad side, I privately ask Zayzi, “Can I just say that you don’t want to date me, and I don’t want to date someone who doesn’t consent? I don’t want to insult you, because I don’t think you’re weird or dumb. Wouldn’t she just tell me to drop this spell if I insulted you?”
A moment’s consideration has Xayla privately telepathically replying, “Oh, right. Don’t do that then. Please. Thank you. Your idea maybe.”
Xayla’s emotional wavelengths are quite hard to pin down. It’s as if they’d been sapped of their ability to really feel their emotions. I understand trauma, trust me on that. One of its many effects can manifest like this. Zayzi’s been traumatized, and what they don’t need, is to be pushed into a romance. Plus, have you met me? I’m a train wreck. I’m a danger to myself and others, with literally explosive wrath. The last thing someone with an emotional instability needs, is sharing romantic thoughts with a mind as unstable as mine.
I offer into the wavelength for them both to hear, “Ixeyla? I’m not sure how much you two know about trauma, but Zayzi’s someone that exhibits a lot of signs of trauma. They don’t want to date, and that’s okay. I wouldn’t want to date someone who wasn’t interested in dating me, just doing it to get a sibling off their back. It would make for a pretty awkward relationship. Zayzi and I like each other, and like talking to each other. That’s what this bond is for, but that’s all we’re doing. I hope you’ll forgive me for this forwardness, but I care about Xayla’s feelings too. I won’t try to compare how much I care, to how much you care. I just want to say that I also care. That’s all.”
The turbulance in Xayla’s emotions balances out to a more neutral over the course of my monologue, as they send privately to me, “That. That was a lot of words. Thank you. For them. I love Ixey. Don’t like when we fight. Thank you. For earlier I mean. Too. Thank you too, for that. Ixey likes Lil. You’re nice.”
On a separate private wavelength, Ixeyla’s putting out enough anger that even in a less intimate wavelength it’s palpable, but she calmly states, “You pass.”
I pass? Her pushing Zayzi at me was a test? To what? To see if I’d take advantage of someone that’s emotionally vulnerable? Gross. I suppose she would have tried to make good on her threat to kill me if I had done that, so she wasn’t really throwing her sibling’s emotions under the bus to be taken advantage of. Less gross, but still gross. Also, why’s she so pissed if I passed? Wait. Does she not want Xayla to have friends outside of her? Or is it more that she’s jealous, and worried she’ll get to spend less time with Zayzi? Should I try to quell that fear? I don’t even expect Xayla to make contact with me all that much. They’re not very talkative.
Unsure what else to do with my assumptions, and not wanting to stir up trouble, I offer a private reply to Ixeyla, “Thanks.”
Ixeyla seems to calm down quite a bit after the exchange, or maybe it’s the massage I’m giving her. She doesn’t complain, or try to make advances on me to test me another way or anything weird. She flashes Xayla a look after her permanency enhancement enchantment is finished, which earns her a half-frown and shrugged eyebrows, likely indicating, “It’s up to you.”
If the question was, “Can I leave now?” to Zayzi, then I seem to have guessed right, because Ixeyla leaves, no muss, no fuss, taking her shirt with her, leaving me alone with Zayzi.
Zayzi becomes a little bit more chatty as I’m applying the permanency enhancement enchantment to them, starting, “Schism? You’re nice. Is that good? Um, safe? You could get hurt.”
Oh the other day! Zayzi was going to ask if it was safe to offer friendship so easily to people. I respond, “I guess I’ve been really lucky in life so far. Most of the hurts that have happened to me were because of outside forces. Even the betrayals by people I thought I was close to, happened because of outside forces. I wouldn’t say it’s for everyone, to try to always be friendly, to try to make friends or romance partners with nearly everyone. So I’m not sure I could say it’s safe in general. I have been hurt, in one way or another. Thank you. Um, for caring.”
After processing my response for a moment, Zayzi nods, their hair splashing in the spring slightly. They continue, “Can you kill them? All of them?”
I balk a bit as my left eyebrow raises. Apparently the pause makes Zayzi think it’s time to roll over, so now they’re laying on their back on the stone ledge of the spring, looking up at me curiously. I avert my gaze once again, and try to hint at a need for clarification, “I think that depends on who you mean by all of them.”
Zayzi’s answer is, a bit naive I suppose, “The bad people. Terrorzin’s, Damnations, Felgres. Kill them all. Please?”
I wish to heck I could reassure them. Should I lie? No. No, I don’t want to hurt Zayzi’s feelings by disappointing them, but I won’t mislead them either, so I offer, “I’ll try my damndest. Really I will. There’s a lot of them out there though. I’m not *that* powerful.”
There’s a terse, “Oh,” in response to my answer. I’m messing up runes because I’m looking away, because Zayzi flipped over. I don’t want to make a big deal about it though either, because if they aren’t self-conscious about it, I don’t want to add more neuroses to the pile of problems they’re already dealing with.
While I’m trying to figure out where to go after such a drop in the conversation, Zayzi offers, “I think you are powerful. Maybe not enough. Lotta pressure. Sorry. You already said lotta pressure. It hurts. It hurts so bad I just don’t want to feel, so most of the times, I just don’t. I want them to hurt worse. Sorry.”
I can’t help turning my gaze back down to meet Zayzi’s with sorrow, and tears in my eyes as I try to reassure them, “Oh Zayzi. I’m so sorry you’re hurting so bad. I wish I could take that away for you. I’m sorry that the pain is worse than numbness. I—. I hope I can somehow make things just a little less sucky for you at least.”
Zayzi offers me one of their rare furtive smiles, and almost a laugh at my parting statement, before responding, “You do. Friends. First friend in,” they stop to think, tapping their chin with their right index finger, before continuing, “maybe ever? Talking’s nice. No presure. No eggs. No clutching. You’re nice. You’re Schism. That’s good. Friends is good enough. Sucks a little bit less now.”
They offer another of their rare smiles, and it lasts longer as they look up into my sad eyes. Before my tears can fall upon them, or before my sympathetic half-smile can change, they switch topics, “Food can be nice, good. I like sweet stuff. Tummy doesn’t like just sweetstone though, or I’d just go hunting for it, digging sweetstone. Was fun, nice, sharing.”
I realize I’ve been done for a while, and just lightly rubbing Zayzi’s ribs, hips, and belly. I blush and offer, “Oh, yeah, it really is fun, and nice to share something like that. Thank you for letting me take the biggest two. I shared them with Luni and Teuila. Also, um, yours is done, if you don’t want to stick around, you don’t have to. I’ll mix up my enchantment paste in a second.”
I shouldn’t be surprised when Zayzi asks, “Why would I leave?”
I’m a bit flummoxed, so I sit on the ledge of the spring after taking the spare shirt I'd picked up in Mount Verdimenn off and preparing my gem-dust paste. I don’t really have a good answer, so I offer, “I guess I was worried that maybe I was keeping you from hanging out with your sister, if you two had plans to be anywhere. Sorry if it was presumptuous to think you spend almost all your time together.”
The fact that they lay across my lap, still topless, also shouldn’t surprise me, since Zayzi’s concepts of social boundaries seemingly don’t exist. They are gangly, and awkward though, so they flop from front to back or vice versa occasionally as they explain, “Not all, maybe less. I think Ixey hates me, because I’m so numb, numb or down all the time. She wants to be around me less. My fault probably. Stupid for being numb, sucky for being hurt.”
I gulp back sadness, barely even realizing I’m continuing Zayzi’s backrub with my free hand while I apply my own permanency enhancement enchantment. Struggling to find kind words without admonishing them, I refute the ideas, “Ixey definitely doesn’t hate you. She loves you so much that she is looking out for you, she gave me some, um, warnings. Doesn’t matter what kind, they were to protect you. Choosing to be numb isn’t stupid. You’re hurting, and it’s a hurt that maybe the few people you talk to can’t comprehend. Being hurt *is* sucky, but you aren’t sucky for having been hurt, or being hurt. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. ‘Kay Zayzi?”
Their only response is, “Kay.”
I don’t know if I got through to them. This isn’t a cartoon where things like this are wrapped up in a single conversation at the end of an episode. This is deeply personal trauma. Friggin’ hell I wish I could help more. I want to bawl my freakin’ eyes out over this. Hellspit and Fel fires.
There’s a pang of guilt when I telepathically hear from Zayzi, “I think you have to go soon.”
I’m worried I’ve hurt them somehow, upset them, made them want me to leave. Instead, I realize there’s a presence in the doorway, and that presence isn’t Ixeyla.