The table that Snowcora finds herself at faces the stage. Her lack of tattoos and the fact that she's sitting in a dragon's lap (the scales always chafe against her skin) let her know this isn't real. Two dancers are currently on stage, a Yodhinala and a barinala, although their dance makes the Tarantella look like mere foreplay since what they're doing involves quite a bit of direct contact and penetration. The crowd of vampires and other undead creatures is clearly enjoying it if the hoots, howls and roars are anything to go by.
"Wait, I have been here before. I think. It was a while ago," Snowcora thinks, then also remembers the last sort of dream like this involved someone she doesn't particularly care for. "Getting bored, are we, Vorgulremik," she asks and remains looking forward. He never summons Alptraum; always a girl. He seems to have this delusion that a female body is more likely to give into him.
Cold hands reach around to squeeze Snowcora's breasts, and a scaly muzzle nips at her neck. "It is more that we now have something of interest to talk about," he claims.
Snowcora doesn't have ears to twitch and she wishes she did. So, she flares her nostrils instead. "And that is what, exactly?" she asks.
"The nature of evil," the dragon claims. The performance on stage ends in a spectacular manner, which should involve some prompt cleanup. Instead the performers bow and make their way into the crowd.. where are they are soon grabbed and fed upon by vampires. Something about this version of Worms is certainly off, since the 'inmates' were supposed to be free of such urges.
Snowcora rolls her eyes at this claim. The feeding catches her attention, though, and watches it for a few seconds. "Is this because of the bat I captured and turned in?" she asks as she continues to look forward.
"Oh, we'll get to him eventually," Vorgulremik notes. Nobody cleans the stage. Instead, stocks appear, complete with naked (though thoroughly befouled) Eeee. There's applause as the Horribuck appears, and goes about his work. "There's them first. Are they evil?"
"They were evil, and enjoyed torturing others. They just had that turned upon them," Snowcora notes. "And yes, I know you're going to say that it's all relative to the observer on what is evil."
"No, I was going to ask if the Horribuck is enjoying it," the dragon replies. "Is he?"
"Probably," Snowcora comments, "And yes, it is a bit evil."
"So, they are evil for enjoying the torture of others, but their punishment is righteous because.. it is the same thing?" Vorgulremik asks. "Those evil people didn't hurt your rat directly. They knew to have others do it for them, because power and privilege let you pretend to keep your hands clean. The other man though, he did hurt the rat directly - but his torture makes you uncomfortable. Is it because he's alive? Punishing spirits isn't real punishment. The dead can't be punished, because death itself only punishes those who have to live with it."
"I don't particularly feel this is righteous," Snowcora notes and gestures towards those upon the stage. "Nor do I torturing Laxus. If you want a logical breakdown as to why, it's because I know Laxus more directly than those here. He's in his heart, a coward and pretty weak-willed and self-justifying. He deserves some sort of justice, yes, but as for what? See, he won't recover from what is done to him. Those spirits up there will recover. All their torment is ultimately transient because of their nature. His will exist for his entire life."
"So it is in the best interest of justice that he live to atone for his deeds?" the dragon asks, giving Snowcora's breasts another cold squeeze. "Because without atonement, is there justice?"
"He's malleable and can potentially be reformed. Those ones up there ... frankly, are too far gone. They were proud of their actions, even faced with this fate," Snowcora tries to explain. "Like the person sitting behind me."
"So you are saying there is no atonement or redemption for me?" Vorgulremik asks, his nose right in Snowcora's ear. "Because what I do is in my nature? I am fated to be evil?"
"I didn't say that. I'm saying you're proud of it. You enjoy it. You embrace it. You want it," Snowcora remarks, still looking straight ahead. "People are born certain things. But what they become is still ultimately their choice."
"Vampires drink blood," Vorgulremik says. "Carnivores eat meat. Trying to fight their nature will only make them sick, or dead. Is the Grok that kills a child evil, or following its nature? You would kill it, but not declare that all Groks are evil and must be destroyed."
"You forget I've been a grok. They do not think, not like you or I. Their minds are far more simple. There's a difference between being a slave to instinct, and using it as an excuse to do horrible things willingly," Snowcora points out.
"So, those of us who can think should just.. kill ourselves, to avoid the consequences of our needs?" the dragon asks, and licks Snowcora's cheek this time.
"You find alternatives. I, for example, can find blood without killing other sentients," Snowcora counters. "Tulani donates, for example."
"And when what you need are souls?" the dragon asks. "Preferably those of other immortals? Now.. if I only needed mortal souls, I doubt my entire species would have been hunted to extinction."
"I think you'd be wrong there. And nothing I have seen of your kind ever showed you needed souls. You kept them as pets, you didn't feed off their existence," Snowcora counters. "You enjoyed your existence ... and I might point out, killed most of your own kind, too."
"Natural competition," Vorgulremik claims. "Although, having killed more of my kind than the efforts of others had managed, you'd think that would count in my favor. And there wouldn't be much point to existence if you couldn't enjoy it. But.. I'm a monster, so don't deserve better. Just like all the other monsters in this prison. At least they have the dignity of looking like monsters, and not denying that they are. For most of your life, weren't you made to feel ashamed of what you were?"
"Who says I am not now?" Snowcora asks and finally looks backwards. "When my business is concluded and I deal with the monsters in Babel, the last monster standing will also be ended. Me."
"And what makes you a monster?" Vorgulremik growls. "An abandoned child, made to feel like a monster, even by those who cared for you? Out of any real fear? Or just superstition. Because others would be made uncomfortable, when you were innocent. How many times did you just want to end it then, before discovering who you really are?"
"Plenty. Then I met you and became a monster to save someone, and now a city. But when will that monster threaten it? Others?" Snowcora points out. "Look at Amenlichli. In time I could end up that too."
"You just told me that evil is a choice. So what would make you choose it? How much would you have to lose before you didn't care anymore?" the dragon asks.
"I am not telling you that," Snowcora says. "I just recognize the risk I pose, and that's one risk I can control."
The dragon laughs (but thankfully not in Snowcora's ear). "And what about the other risks that arise around you? Who will protect your children if you are not there? Who will you end up destroying in order to destroy yourself? It's only the survivors who suffer from a death. Tulani, Rose.. and how many others? They'll know you didn't have faith in them to keep you in check. To give you something worth living for. You fear the risk of hurting them, so you will hurt them for certain to avoid it? Risk isn't certainty. I am certainty. Death is certainty. And nobody knows the future."
"The only reason you're saying any of this is you know when I'm gone, you go too," Snowcora points out, "Tulani and Rose are the only two that actually like me. Others either fear or tolerate me. Any of the Yodh would gladly put a knife in my back if they thought it would work. In fact, some have tried. I rather imagine most would cheer if I were gone. One less boogyman in the world."
"My, such self-loathing and self-delusion," the dragon claims. "Even if it really were just two people that wanted you around, isn't that enough?" the dragon asks. "Do you know what made those on the stage evil, my dear? The lack of anyone who cared enough to tell them they were wrong. And I.. I never even had the notion of caring. Everyone was always turned against me. Fighting me. We don't have to define ourselves by how others see us. You have so many faces now. Are they all feared? Does no one look to you with hope? And of course their pleas and claims that they need you, want you, like you... they don't really mean them, do they? Or is just because they don't know the real you? You can pick and choose which views define you, I suppose. Maybe you're just picking the wrong ones."
"I assume you know what gambling is? Bluffs and plays? Acting? Clinging to someone when you want someone, then abandoning them the moment they have it?" Alptraum notes. "On average about seventy-five percent of people that tell you that are playing one of those roles. Live on the streets and having to survive taught me that? How many times in my young life do you think I played that role, hmm?"
"Does it matter?" the dragon growls. "Why can't you see who the real enemy here is? The only one who will benefit from both the demise of the General and your death?"
"Of course it matters. You're sitting here trying to ply at me and pull heartstrings by bringing up people saying they want or need me," Snowcora says, "I'm just calling your bluff by letting you know I am not that naive. For most, you're only wanted while you have something to offer. As for the other one you refer to, I imagine that's Amenlichli herself. I know she'd rather I be gone. She's out of my reach, though. She sits on her throne of death on an island of death."
"She is not out of reach," the dragon growls, and pushes Snowcora forward onto the tabletop. "I nearly had her in my jaws! But you took me out before I could get the weapon! I have no illusions about my fate, but I will not let that witch have the last laugh! She's afraid of you. Because of what I can put into your hand. Destroy her, and then you can be the monster that ends itself out of self-fear. Is that so much to ask?" Vorgulremik's anger doesn't quite turn to violence. But he is inside of Snowcora now, 'spanking' her to show his displeasure.
Snowcora does not appreciate being violated! "And the only cost of that is to save you. I know how these hands are played," she grows back at him as she tries to push him off. "Give me a weapon, but get me to swear to not harm you ... and then rely on the binding that is part of me that makes me semi-immortal be bound to my word? Sound about like the thoughts you've had?"
"You aren't going to stay Kaira's hand," the dragon growls, but does pulls out and flip Snowcora over so that they're facing one another. "And I don't have to exist to still win against Amenlichtli. But Kaira also doesn't care about the evil in your world. She doesn't care about anything outside of you and her self-destructive purpose. I'm the only one that will help you, but I need to know you will carry out the task!"
"I don't believe you care if I win or not," Snowcora argues to his face. "What do you care of her and her goals?"
"Because she challenged me," the dragon says. "She really thinks that she is a goddess. That her power trumps mine! Even though she tried to make me an ally. If I have to go into oblivion, then so does she. I will beat her, even if it has to be by proxy - just so that she can't gloat over my defeat."
"You assume she even remembers you. She has never once even mentioned your name to me," Snowcora says. That probably won't make him feel any better, though.
"Because she's afraid of you," Vorgulremik claims, looming down over Snowcora. "She was afraid of me. But you aren't, are you. That already makes you stronger than her. And you've taken her one best weapon. The one she knew she could conquer the world with. Having you destroy her would be so poetic, wouldn't it? And you'll do it with the weapon that was meant for destroying me."
"After all, we were the only two beings on this world that could walk into her kingdom with impunity," the dragon whispers.
"There is no guarantee I could walk into her realm," Snowcora points out. "Her power is far beyond mine, and what the believe in Sunala affords me."
"Don't doubt yourself. What happens to the undead that touch you, hmm?" Vorgulremik puts his palms on either side of Snowcora's head, and whispers, "Hers is a kingdom of dead, dry leaves. I would have been the wind. But you.. you are the flame." And then the dragon kisses her.
All Snowcora can say to that is glrrk! It feels vile, moreso than even being with Gorphat tends to feel. "If I let him help me, then he knows I'll be beholden to him. It's ... a matter of honor," she thinks instead, irritated and frustrated. "I would have hated playing cards against him."
Vorgulremik breaks the kiss when Snowcora doesn't return it. "Will you do it?" he asks, and gives her throat a lick. "Destroy Amenlichtli. Erase her from existence. See her kingdom shatter under your footsteps, and know that she will be forgotten? You don't have to do it for me.. but if you send her my regards when the fatal blow falls.. it wouldn't matter, but it would be a nice gesture."
"I will ... consider it," Snowcora replies, not comfortable ever giving him a direct yes to anything he asks. "Interesting play of hand you made. You go from trying to convince me my actions as of late could be construed as evil; but that's something I'm well aware of. So, you're aiming for a ... you wouldn't get the reference to that obscure card game. You'd have had a better life just running a gambling hall instead of eating people."
"We immortals have to follow certain rules that others do not," Vorgulremik says. "I do not believe in fate, or destiny.. yet, I am beholden to prophecy. And according to prophecy, Amenlitchli can only be destroyed by a weapon not of this reality. Such a weapon came to this world, because I came here. A weapon to destroy me. And you know what that must entail. Not mere death. A weapon to destroy an immortal. If I am to play a role in prophecy, I have to try and play that role as best as I can. Rules. Just as your Seven Sisters are beholden to stories, or 'the lore' as they call it. It's almost funny, don't you think?"
"Except stories can be rewritten. Or haven't you been paying that much attention to me?" Snowcora asks, bare brow raised. "Life has a funny way of being ironic, though, I must concede."
"That affects your gods, but not me," Vorgulremik claims. And likely not Amenlichtli. Even if it did affect her though.. it won't affect the weapon. And you aren't the only one rewriting their stories.. you're convincing others to believe in them too." The dragon begins to knead and massage Snowcora's breasts now, and asks, "Will you let me mate with you now? I will be.. gentle."
"What, you can't convince Kaira to spread 'em for you?" Snowcora asks, smirking.
"She's my jailor, you are my.. peer," Vorgulremik claims, and grins. "I like you. But I can change you into her form if you like. I can't promise to remain gentle then, however."
Snowcora snorts. "Fine. I suppose I can at least let you have our moment of elf-humping," the odd human claims and at least does stop, well, fighting so much.
At the implied preference, the dragon changes into the dark elf, whose face is arguably a bit crueler, but even calloused hands are preferable to those covered in metallic scales. The monsters in the crowd seem to be cheering them on as well.
"Not quite what I meant, but at least I won't have crotch-rub-burn now," Snowcora ... concedes. And in spite of probably regretting it later and wanting a lot of mouthwash, or beer, she kisses him and actually starts to roll back against him.
The nursing is pleasant, even if there is a bit too much stretching of things, and it's better than dealing with the Creeper. The table top adds a bit of novelty too, especially with how the elf positions her legs.. and turns her onto her side for a bit. It isn't long before Vorgulremik begins to lose focus on her though, and starts getting a bit rougher.
And it isn't without feeling good, as long as she doesn't think too much on who it is. That just makes her feel icky and tends to dampen any sort of pleasure she gets from it. She's also not terribly surprised when he starts to get rougher. Most men tend to forget their partners after a bit anyway and just do what feels good to them. So, she just sort of grins and bears it for now. Even rough has some pleasure attached to it, after all.
When Snowcora ends up bent forward over the table again, she can feel her partner become a bit more dragony again. She can feel the difference inside, since one is much bigger. But with each impact, she feels her own skin toughening into scales as well.
"Why am I not surprised. He does always prefer going at it like animals!" Snowcora thinks. She's conveniently ignoring that, well, most of the time she prefers that too. He's always trying to convince her she's one of his kind now, and well, part of his harem. So is it any surprise he's probably turning her into of them?
Once they've both reached the 'half-dragon' stage (and Snowcora is indeed now Nikaira in form) the table gives out. This doesn't hurt Nikaira, but it does result in a change of position. There's a lot of laughing and other encouragement from the monster audience. Face to face again, there's a bit more 'sensual biting' from Vorgulremik, along with a generally more feral approach to things.
That's when things tend to be more aggressive and bitey. Sure, there is sex involved, but it's also more of a content to prove which one is dominant while doing it. So, lots of growling, claws, biting, and otherwise trying to get the other one to 'give up their climax' as it were first.
Nekaira realizes things are still escalating when she notices that her breasts are disappearing, and her legs feel a lot beefier. Vorgulremik has pushed them both into being full, four-on-the-floor dragons, and the sounds from the other monsters are becoming more alarmed. Probably because the entwined dragons are now destroying the ballroom with their antics, and anyone not fast enough to dodge gets a bit squished, tail-swatted or send flying by a flexing wing.
Minor things, though, they're undead and besides, the place isn't real! What's more important is that he 'pop' before she does, anyway.
Vorgulremik finally digs his claws into the floor to pin down his.. foe? The only difference at this level between fighting and mating is lack of serious wounds. Not that they aren't both covered in gore - it just isn't theirs. The Steel Dragon is really working those hips now, hoping that being able to restrict Nekaira's movements somewhat will bring him the victory!
This pisses Nikaira off! But, she's smaller than he is, and that's surely his fault! She tries to fight back, which of course makes it worse, and soon she's growling and hisses as her damn body betrays her and climaxes for that ... creature! Stupid scaled bits and their pleasure-pain inducing ways.
Vorgulremik doesn't have any reason to draw things out after that, and declares his own climax to the ballroom. Between the two of them, this means anyone not crushed is now on fire. He takes his victory bite, and then everything vanishes in flame, accompanied by a sensation of spinning and twirling.. as if someone grabbed Nekaira by the tail and is lifting her out of the ballroom..
There's a splash, and Alptraum finds himself in a steamy, sunken marble bath with a somewhat steamed look Kaira. "Finally, I noticed and got you away from him!" she claims.
"What in Dagh's flexible anus is going on?" Nikaira thinks right before splashdown. "You could have noticed sooner, you know," he complains as he now .... drips.
"It takes a rather strong signal unfortunately," Kaira says, almost accusingly. "A climactic one, you could say." Is she.. jealous?
"It wasn't my idea. He was trying, as usual, to ingratiate himself to me in hopes I will spare him," Alptraum claims trying to redirect the conversation. "He was trying to convince me at first that I was just as evil as he, then he had to rethink it when I didn't argue with him and told him I already planned my end to stop things."
"Well, that's just.. wait, what?" Kaira asks. "What was that last part again?"
"When I finish the tasks at hand I intend to destroy myself before I become more of a monster than I already have," Alptraum says as he sits back. "Tulani has a weapon capable of killing me. Or for that matter so does Cyprian. All he has to do is stick the iron blade through my heart."
"Oh, I see," Kaira says, a bit coldly. "So.. you don't really want me to join you outside of the dagger then. Is that why you don't visit me?"
"Wait? What?" Alptraum asks, "You said that wasn't possible anyway. And I haven't visited because I am ashamed of myself."
"It just requires very special circumstances that may actually come to pass," the dragon claims. "But even so.. if I did get a body, would you just leave me? What are you ashamed of.. if not this impossible death wish?"
"I'm punishing people now. As a demon at times, or as myself," Alptraum says. "Using my abilities to enact retribution for others. Something I never thought I would do. But then there's been a lot of that; just look at Gorphat, for example. How long until I go too far? Do I even risk the chance of that now. This isn't about you, but about everyone. I came to stop a monster, and instead I'm becoming one."
"The fact that you worry about it suggests otherwise," Kaira says. "And what's wrong with enacting retribution? Were these innocent people that wronged you somehow?"
"Far from it," Alptraum says, "And I do not always worry about it. Just when I have time to think about it."
"Eh, I don't see the issue," Kaira notes. "But I'm a dragon. Then again, mortals tend to be way nastier than dragons. If you aren't going out of your way to go all Babelite on someone just because you have a personal grudge against them, but because they actually deserve it, then... I'm pretty sure that's called justice. I mean, there must be lots of people that've given you the shaft that you'd like to smack around for it, but haven't because.. either you never thought of it, or have and decided it was wrong or unfair."
"It's a slippery path. The more you do, the easier it becomes. The easier it becomes, the more you do. Soon you're the monster you claimed to have been fighting," Alptraum points out.
"So.. stop doing it?" Kaira suggests. "I don't like the idea of you thinking you're more of a threat than a benefit. To me.. you're my only hope for not destroying a lot of innocent souls. You're the Barsunala. From a mythological perspective, he would know the circumstances of everyone's death. But he isn't expected to go after murderers after ferrying their victim to the afterlife. You shouldn't be expected to punish people either. Especially if you don't want to."
"Nothing is ever that simple. Stopping, that is," Alptraum says, "Because lately if I didn't do certain things, other things would have just ... continued. So, I had to step in, but then it also meant doing things I do not like to do. So, I could turn my head and let others suffer, or I could intervene and risk my own soul. So, it isn't as simple as just stopping."
"Is that still happening?" Kaira asks. "If you're punishing people.. does that mean it's over and done with?"
"Nothing ever really ends," Alptraum points out and shrugs. "The current crisis is mostly over. Just one more thing for me to tend to."
Kaira holds her arms out to the Eeee. "Then stay here with me for awhile," she says, and smiles. "You made me feel that I could be a person.. that I should want to be one. The world outside will keep for a day, but that day could be as long as it needs to be in here."
Alptraum slides over and leans into Kaira for the time being. "When you have the power to do something you fix things, you do it, even if it makes you cry. Because not doing it would too. Sometimes there is no good path, just differing degrees of painful ones," he says. "At least I've been able to make you feel better over time."
Wet feathers wrap around Alptraum, along with the dragon's arms. "I'm afraid, but.. that's an improvement, I suppose," Kaira says. "That I can feel that. Do you still love me?"
"Of course I still care about you. I care about all my friends," Alptraum answers, and drips. At least she, and the water, isn't cold. Or trying to make him evil.
"But do you love me, Alptraum?" Kaira asks. "I need to hear it. Because I don't want to hurt you, and if you love me then I have to keep trying to survive my fate."
"Yes, I love you," Alptraum says after a fashion. It's not in the same sense as Rosalind, but as a friend, of course.
Kaira pulls Alptraum into a deeper hug, so that he can't see her face since it's over his shoulder now. "I love you too," she says. "I hope you don't hate me for it."
"Why would I hate you for it?" Alptraum has to ask as he returns that hug gently.
"I have my irrational worries is all," Kaira claims. "If not for Lord Verminous and my oath.. I'd tell you everything I know. But I don't know what's still planned. I won't until it happens, which causes me a lot of stress. I can't pull you in to find out what's happening outside. I still don't know how Vorgulremik is doing it, or how much he knows."
"What do you mean what's still planned? Planned with who?" Alptraum has to ask. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand?"
"Mave," Kaira says. "I can say that much. Is she still alive?"
"Yes, she is still alive and I still don't really trust her," Alptraum says.
"Has she done anything to hurt you?" Kaira then asks, sounding serious. She even pulls back to look Alptraum in the eyes when she asks.
"No. It is more just not being fully honest with me about what she is doing, or is going to do," Alptraum answers and shrugs a little. "That, combined with her original attempt on me, has never really helped form trust."
"Does she act like me or.. that's a stupid question," Kaira says, and shakes her head. "I barely know her. And this isn't something for us to really discuss. No more outside problems! Not while you're here. I have enough problems too, we should focus on not trying to deal with any of them and just have fun."
"She acts like herself. Manipulative," Alptraum answers honestly, "And thinking I am dumb and can be tricked into what she wants instead of just asking me directly." He then waves that off and sinks back into the water, this time up to his neck. "I don't even really know what to do anymore," he mutters.
Sinking down to maintain eye-level, Kaira says, "I never know what to do, really. But I have to act like it. So let's keep our decisions for now to.. oh.. sex or miniature golf. And massages. Maybe grooming? That's a thing, right? Professional.. groomers. To comb fur and wax scales. If they don't exist, we'll make them exist. Oh, and flying. Definitely some good flying time. I hear good things about fishing, but I find them hard to believe."
"All of those sound good, though I could use a break from sex for an hour or so," Alptruam concedes. "And yes, there are professional groomers. Even those that wax fur, but I don't recommend that one. Flying is fun too. Fishing is ... an excuse to nap on a boat, or talk to a friend. The actual act is extremely dull. Frankly, just being without any demands that I do something would be nice too."
"Turn around then," Kaira suggests. "I will wash your back. With soap. That way you will relax and not be sexually aroused by my mere presence. And I will keep it all above the tushy area, too."
Alptraum chuckles and does turn around by using wings as large, though awkward, paddles. At least water doesn't have much to stick to on them. "I feel like I've done everything wrong," he says, "But right, no more talk about outside stuff."
Kaira is overly careful with her claws, using them as combs. But that could be she's starting with Alptraum's long white hair. "I think that's normal," she comments as she separates out the strands. "Have you ever had a braid?"
"I used to have one all the time on the right side, near my temple. Why do you ask," Alptraum asks. "I gave it up around the same time my hat was stolen." Having a braid before does also at least mean he knows how to hold still while someone messes with his hair.
"The elf maids tell me that braiding each other's hair is a bonding experience," Kaira replies. "You can braid my mane afterwards if you like. They say it's very relaxing all around." That said, she starts to separate out the long hair into several groups for braiding. It's probably easier when it's wet.
"It's done for a lot of reasons. Some can act as a clan or family mark. Some act as a denotation of availability. Some can even be used to interweave secret messages in, if you're acting as sort of a spy," Alptraum ticks off as he otherwise holds still. "And if you'd like me to, I can."
"I didn't learn any of those braids," Kaira notes, and starts on a simple three-strand braid. "This is already more complicated than I'm used to. Usually my hands are just for picking things up. But I've begun to appreciate the thumb a bit more. It's used in a surprising array of rude gestures."
"Eeee have as many of those that use the feet as the hands," Alptraum remarks a bit absently. "As for hands, I've used mine a lot. Used to do magic 'tricks' as a kid to distract the 'guests' while others picked their pockets. Or when I'd be the one doing the picking. Come to think of it, I've never really been a good person."
"Poor people don't have the luxury of being good people.. to richer people," Kaira notes. "I'm sure you were good to the others in your troupe. Can you braid hair with your feet? I imagine the sorts with wings for arms could.. but I'm surprised those with separate wings still kept all the dexterity in their feet." As she works, more of Alptraum's hair is being held above the water - and it feels heavy from the wetness.
"Yes, you can braid hair with your feet. It's not as easy, but it's possible. More often, though, you used them to bootlace the other people at the card table to the table for when they get mad at you for winning all their money and claim you were cheating. Which of course you were, but they can't chase you dragging a table with their feet," Alptraum notes. "As for why we keep it, well, we still use them. Lots of people complain about wanting an extra arm when doing stuff. Well, we use our feet."
"I use elves," Kaira claims. As she gets closer to the end of the braid, she starts to slow down. "Do you remember how to end a braid?" she then asks.
"You tie it off with something. Usually colored thread, a ribbon, A clasp bead, or something along those lines," Alptraum explains, still holding still since his hair is being held.
It takes a moment, but Kaira finally ties things off with something. "There, I think that will hold. Traditionally I think I'm supposed to use a dragon whisker to tie it off, but I'm not a whiskered dragon. So I used one of my hairs instead."
"Not uncommon," Alptraum says as he looks over his shoulder. "A hair works like thread in most cases. I've done that before. And why is it you haven't tried to contact me at all lately?"
"I didn't want to seem needy.. but also because I never know when it would be a good time. Usually I can sense when the orb is exposed, but even then there's usually some sort of energy use, which means shadow use, which means you're doing something. Maybe I should use some sort of signal? It was easier before you started leaving the dagger in all the time."
"I can leave the dagger out," Alptraum notes. "But yeah, I'm usually doing something or other."
"You're usually talking to goddesses nowadays," the dragon laments. "I doubt they'd find me very welcome. You know how deities can be." She drapes the braid forward over Alptraum's shoulder. "How does it look?"
Alptraum peers at it for a bit. "Surprisingly good. Most people don't get the sections the same size, usually, and end up with a lopsided braid," he says. "As for the Goddesses, another of my mistakes, I guess. I could have just destroyed them all. It would have been simpler."
"Public relations," Kaira says. "And of course I got them even. Dragons have certain obsessive-compulsive habits."
Alptraum breathes out. "Right, well, your turn," he says as he turns back around to face Kaira. He then lifts his hand and twirls a finger to indicate she needs to turn around.
The dragon turns and moves her wings out of the was as Alptraum did. She also stands up a bit more, since her 'roots' go further down her neck.
It's Alptraum's turn to use his claws as a comb of sorts as he starts working on Kaira's mane. This takes a bit since it is a fair amount longer and it does indeed go further. Then it's a matter of him separating out sections of hair. His approach is a little more involved than Kaira's was. He separates hair into four sections, some specifically smaller than others. Only then does he start working ... which also involves having to tug the braid tighter at intervals. From the feel, it's more of an interlocking/overlapping pattern to it. "This is called a fishtail, mostly because it looks like the bone pattern in a fish tail," he explains.
"I'm sorry if it's more difficult to work with," Kaira says. "My hair isn't as long, but it extends further.."
"It's not any more difficult, it's just a different kind of braid. I thought you would like something beyond the basic three-strand approach. I think the fishtail is a nice look and works well for long trails of hair," Alptraum explains as he works. With how his fingers have to roll, then tug and secure, it's evidence that he does actually have rather dextrous fingers.
"Did you hide coins and things in your hair for your magic tricks?" the dragon asks. "The only sleight of hand I know of involved cups and a ball."
"Sometimes. Usually it was my sleeves or the hat brim," Alptraum answers as his fingers continue to work. He's maybe a third of the way down now, but he's had to backtrack a couple times when the centerline wandered a bit and looked odd. He's out of practice.
"Sleeves... I always forget about sleeves," Kaira says, sounding a bit.. soft? Maybe the braiding really is relaxing her.
"You rarely wear them, so that's not surprising," Alptraum points out as he continues downward. He grows quiet as he continues down until he finally reaches as far down as he can actually braid effectively. Instead of using a strand of his hair, he overlaps the four ends and puts them in a snug little knot. One that can be undone with a couple tugs, but keeps the braid together for the time being. "There, done," he says.
The dragon then spends the next minute in a futile effort to look at the back of her own neck. It's just long enough that she can see the last quarter of it though. "Ooo, that is much prettier than when the elves tried it. They gave me cornrows. I think they thought it was funny.."
"They were likely mocking you, yes. That look isn't good on anyone," Alptraum has to agree. "You're lucky you didn't have to shave it all off."
Kaira is suddenly silent. "It grew back," she finally admits.
"I stand corrected," Alptraum concedes as he sinks back to his chin in the water. "Braiding all really comes from loom work, the patters aren't all that different from cloth or carpet weaves," he says, changing the subject.
Turning, Kaira looks at Alptraum wide-eyed. "Is there a hair loom then?" she asks.
"Not that I've ever seen. That would hurt, unless you shaved the hair before doing something with it on the loom," Alptraum says.
"Ah, that is.. a relief, I think," Kaira says, putting a hand to her chest. "I have a lot of lapses in knowledge," she admits. "When they come up.. it reminds me that I'm not complete."
"Neither am I," Alptraum points out, "Broken soul and all."
"Yeah, but you didn't lose anything, because it was always the situation for you," Kaira notes. "I'm a non-holographic copy. I've been edited to be like this.. which is frankly still a lot more than I need to do my job. I suspect that's deliberate, I just don't know why yet."
"I ... don't even know what that means," Alptraum admits.
"I don't need a personality, or.. uncertainty," Kaira notes. "But I have both. But none of it would have mattered if you and Arkold hadn't woken me up. I feel like a backup plan.. and I think that I am."
"Possibly, to deal with mistakes like me," Alptraum says. "People deal better with other people."
"My original didn't pull the plug on Vorgulremik, and she had him captive for.. a century or so. So there must be some factor I'm missing," Kaira says with a sigh. "One more thing I don't need to be thinking about now. Want to go lay out in the sun to dry off?"
"A nap in the sun sounds like a good thing," Alptraum agrees as he stands up, water rolling off his wing membranes in sheets. He then offers a hand to Kaira. "Lets go find some sun and forget about everything for a while," he offers...\