Kirihito Arachne
Newbie
Diplomacy is the art of talking sweetly to one's enemy while looking for one's knife.
Posts: 24
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Post by Kirihito Arachne on Feb 16, 2005 18:49:36 GMT -5
Sun filtered through the panes of the immaculately clean window on the fourth floor of the Academy today. The olive skinned man sitting at his desk paused in his writing a moment to smile and enjoy the warmth before opening his eyes once more to resume penning the tardy slip in hand (addressed to one Marie Handron, the third one this week for her that would sit and gather dust in her dorm room mailbox). As the slip was placed in the wooden out box fleshed perfectly to the corner of the desk, Kirihito rose to take in the view from his window.
Ulster was a beautfiul country, especailly at this time of year. The only upset he found was that the small window box on his sill would have to wait for spring before the morning glories and snap dragon seeds he had acquired could be planted and the worms would have a place to breathe and grow. For now, he thought, they would have to stay inside. Granite eyes let a gaze rest on the fishtank in the corner, a terrarium actually. Inside several night crawlers wriggled in the fresh soil, gray and pink segmented bodies writhing in pleasure at the taste of the rich habitat. How beautiful they could be, Kirihito thought as he lifted one from the glass case and held it in his hand.
From his sleeve a palm sized spider hesitantly pocked its legs out from under his sleeve. "It's alright, beautiful one." He whispered in a strange language as old as it was foreign to these lands. "I have brought you your dinner." Tiptoeing out along his wrist and the meat of his palm the hairy arachnid probed at the nighcrawler twisting around in Kirihito's hand. Mashing large pincers together the spider practically leapt forwards onto the invertibrate and cleaved it clear in half. The snapping of manibles left the worm in a state of carnage. Kirihito smiled and lifted a finger to stroke the fine hairs on the creature's bulbous back. "Eat, darling, eat." The strange language tripped of the tongue like honey over a razorblade- sweet and sharp.
It was dangerous to keep the poor creature in view of everyone. In the village it would be safe, but here these people feared his precious companions. He would not take a risk of life to them. Sliding the spider back into the pocket of his coat lining he picked up a hankerchief to wipe the ooze from his hands. Running his hands over the pants of his suit he sat down again. Office Hours were starting, and there was no telling when a student would come bearing questions about the monarchical political process, or perhaps for a demonstration of a bolleo.
(This sucks because people have been bitching at me to post. There is your post, you weasels, all of you.)
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Post by Charlie Dudox on Feb 23, 2005 23:12:50 GMT -5
Charlie was known to be an excellent student. She was only disruptive when she questioned the knowledge of her professors. Luckily for her, and the staff who were often her victims, she had managed to enroll in classes only taught by the competent. It was true that she had had to suffer through the tediousness of having Daniel’s class be taught by an assistant her own age with probably less time in the field than she had, but she had taken pity on the poor bookish young man and given him little trouble, even some advice after class on a few occasions. Her study skills had reached a new level now that she was a year behind graduating and most of her old comrades had moved on to start their lives and careers. It was not that she had had many friends to begin with, but there had been people to go out to coffee with or chat at parties, or even parties that she had been invited to. Increasingly, there had only been her books.
Not that she had anything against her literature. The strange young political science professor had assigned a reading list that was drowning most of his pupils, but Charlie was devouring at a pace that put her ahead of the syllabus. In other words, she was desperately in need of a life, or a job, or a man, or even a hobby at this point. Instead all the had was The Theories of Political Power in a Pre-Monarchical Society a book that spoke so lyrically, it took half a page to make rather simple points, but spoke more clearly to the jungle tribes that she had grown up with than most published works outside her parents. It was a fine opportunity to bounce ideas off of her young professor.
Charlie rapped softly on the door before slipping inside Kirihito’s office. It was just what she expected of the man. Like Daniel’s office was a constant mess, and Kahlan’s was filled with strange riches, Kirihito’s was drastically sparse and well ordered. He was indeed handsome and suave in that dark mysterious manner and while he was not really Charlie’s type, she could not help but be curious. He had started the class with only the vaguest description of where he had come from and what he was doing in Ulster, and while she occasionally heard some of her colleagues giggling as they created a romantic background for him, Charlie assumed that the young man was both more ordinary and more exotic than anyone guessed as was so often the case with such men.
Her look, like always, was a mix of the traditional and modest. She wore a wrap around skirt and turquoise sweater that served to accentuate her curves under a façade of modesty. While she had found no jewelry to replace the ones that had been stolen, her hair was pulled back in a clip made of hand-leafed gold and engraved lightly with the figure of a half-monkey half-fish sitting in a tortoise shell. The same image jangled from circular coins from her bracelet. While she rarely admitted it, the strange looking creature was the only god or idol the young woman had ever truly paid homage to. For the most part, they were for decoration, though she had to admit that they served as protection as well.
As always she was forward and friendly as she extended her hand to Kirihito. “Good afternoon Professor Arachne. I’m Charlie Dudox from your class. I sit in the fourth row off to the left.” She graced him with a genial smile, as though it would be difficult to miss such a face in his class. “You teach a wonderful class. I’m enjoying it quite a deal.” There was nothing wrong with buttering up those who gave the grades, but then Charlie had once told a professor after a month of class that she would greatly appreciate it if he took the time to double check his facts before class and save her the trouble of correcting him.
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Kirihito Arachne
Newbie
Diplomacy is the art of talking sweetly to one's enemy while looking for one's knife.
Posts: 24
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Post by Kirihito Arachne on Mar 1, 2005 17:41:59 GMT -5
Granite eyes shifted to stare hard on the young woman who entered his office after a quick knock. The small smile and the studious gaze half hidden behind feathery hair was a hallmark of his persona. Mystery, that's what it was. "Charolette L. Dudox." He said in a pleasent tenor strain as eyes trailed all over her as if peering into every nook and cranny her body possessed. A trait that often left his victim with a feeling of nakedness in his presence, though he did suppose Charlie would be more immune than most to such treatment. "You received a 91.5% on your first exam in my class on pre-monarchical societies of the near east." He continued his musing. "I graded your exam third from last. I had begun to think that no one was keeping up with my reading list." He let her soak in the backhanded compliment with nothing more on the subject save a quirky yet somehow becoming half smile.
He shifted around to sit properly on the edge of his desk, tugging up at the pantleg of an immaculate white suit (the only color he could possibly bring himself to wear, and silk, of course. Dead animal never touched him.) She was a tan lady, dark hair and eyes, but it did not seem it was her natural look. Years of outdoor work, callouses on the inner palms of slender hands- an ultimate dichotomy, he thought, the feminine rogue, the female swashbuckler that embodied what it meant to be woman. Fascinating. She had intrigued him, being the only one wo score even reasonably well on his exam, the student who threw the curve, so to speak. He had looked her up.
Anthropology program, first year of the graduate classes and enrolled in almost every class that Dr. Daniel Carter had to offer. Either that said something about Carter or something about how she saw the man. There had been growing suspicion since then that she was only taking his class to fulfill a requirement while Dr. Carter was on his dig in Xexoria. Not that she wasn't enthusiastic. Very outspoken and bright, he wondered of her background. Never underestimate someone like Charlie Dudox, he had learned. One never knew about resourceful people. They always had tricks up their sleeves.
She did not have the look of any tribe he knew of. His wandering in the years before and following his coma hand led him to meet a great many people of the world, none of which (or perhaps too many of which) seemed to match the basic body type of Charlie, though the mish mosh of artifacts and differing cultural markers that she bore so proudly in her dress and mannerisms probably lent themselves to labelling her as a mutt. She was not Yuudo. Her skin was rich and golden tanned, but not the natural olive Kirihito bore, nor did she have the trademark slate colored eyes, the high cheekbones, or the tapered build that was inherent to the 'first ones' through a milennia of selective breeding.
Finally his eyes locked on hers with a smile. "It is a pleasure to have the more enthusiastic students in class to make up for the sharp lack of attention to course material I have been experiencing. It is heartening to see that someone is willing to do the assigned work. On that note- to what do I owe the pleasure of a visit today, Ms. Charlie?"
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Post by Charlie Dudox on Mar 2, 2005 13:09:43 GMT -5
It was not the first time that a man had taken a moment to mentally undress her but she had to admit that she did not appreciate it greatly, coming from one of her professors, especially one who did it so obviously. He appeared to be interested in giving her far more than a once over. With deep patience and self restraint, she managed simply to return this rudeness with the raise of an eyebrow, letting in me known that she knew what he was doing and thinking and hoped he had gotten it out of his system. Still, his knowledge of her was impressive. Few teachers took the time to learn all their students’ names let alone remember test scores.
She perched herself in one of his chairs. Would it not have been wholly strange and inappropriate to do so, Charlie might have broken out laughing at Kirihito’s mannerisms. It was lovely to see that the gentrified arrogant hostility that he seemed to exude at moments in class was not limited to solely to the class. He was right about the reading list though. Of those who had not dropped the class few students were bothering with the reading. The notes were going at such a premium that it was hard for Charlie to resist writing her own set to sell. But then Charlie did not need the money and took a certain joy in watching her young classmates flounder. Such were the pleasures of being the curve setter.
She nodded her head and opened The Theories of Political Power in a Pre-Monarchical Society to a dog eared page, handing it to him so that he could see the passage. “I am beginning to severely doubt this concept of ‘Pre-Monarchical society’. Chapters and chapters of historical anecdotes of Pre-Ulsterian, Pre-Xexorian and lesser known kingdoms all made to seem as though these tribal power theories, and rituals clearly led to the kingdoms we have now. There are plenty of tribes living by similar “uncivilized” methods today. I hardly believe that the Tunnis or the Anthrobs will ever end up building themselves a castle and creating a court of warriors. It is almost an insult to tribal lifestyles that may indeed be mosre sustainable than the monarchy. All they seem to be doing is giving an excuse for the ills of the kingdom without ever getting to its root in human nature.”
It was an argument in semantics but it seemed as if that was something that the woman was good at. The margins were filled with notes, half of them were legible, mostly key words, names of tribes or case studies she could relate the text to. The other half were chicken scratch so illegible that it appeared that the girl much be using another language all together. She looked to Kirihito expectantly, waiting for him to defend pretty much everything he had been teaching these last two weeks.
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Kirihito Arachne
Newbie
Diplomacy is the art of talking sweetly to one's enemy while looking for one's knife.
Posts: 24
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Post by Kirihito Arachne on Mar 14, 2005 19:26:41 GMT -5
His once over of the girl hadn't been very appreciated. Perhaps she thought him a lecher. The mere idea brought a light smile to his face as he listen to her bringing forth the arguments against the text books that he had offered up to the class. Barely any of them could keep up with the readings elt alone digest them to the point of picking them apart. How very... interesting. She was so sharp, he could see her mind whirring a mile a minute. "Interesting." he almost crooned, looking intensely at her over the rims of his glasses, the same furative smile on his thin lips. "Interesting indeed."
There was a short period of mulling over the argument that she had proposed. "It is true, I agree, that the faults of these kingdoms should not truly be attributed to the tribal values which spawned them. After all, the violence that ensued within Rome was not necessary because of the precursing Etruscan culture. Your argument seems to be one that I have presented many a-time: Correlation, not causation. However, we must take even what you're saying with a grain of salt. If you are saying that there are tribes that still hold to their traditional and untechnologically advanced methods of living alive and well today, which I know that there are, then perhaps they are directly the cause of the ills of the kingdom... "
He leaned on the desk, granite colored eyes fixed on her face as he spoke. "These tribes you speak of, you said yourself they will probably never build into a castle based feudal monarchy. Perhaps the tribes native to this land were much the same -BUT, introduce a newer and 'higher' advanced society of journeymen who have already superseded the stage of tribalism into pre-monarchical Ulster and those tribes that were never meant to be a monrachy might grow into one. It is akin to mutating a tomato plant to grow purple tomatos- the tomatos are still grown, but there were never meant to be purple and no one really can predict the other side effects such a human induced change could create."
Whether there was any truth in his words, or at the very least if he actually believed what he was saying or not was a mystery hidden behind that olivine poker face and that featherlight hair as he rested a hand to his lips, awaiting her rebuttle. He was sure that she had one.
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Post by Charlie Dudox on Mar 16, 2005 20:56:48 GMT -5
She gave a small smile at his retort. There was the occasional professor who refused to accept criticism. They would simply snap that if she didn’t like the class, she could still drop it without penalty. While she had expected more from Kirihito to begin with, it was always nice to be proved correct. Even more superb was the fast that he was agreeing with her and entering into the debate simotaneously.
“Professor, I don’t suppose you would suggest that we study the host and claim that we know the parasite.” There was a bit of a twinkle in her eye as she knew quite well that this was not what he was proposing. “I take your point, I really do, but the author still fails to ever evolve his argument this far. There are tribes that are pre-monarchical and those that simply are yet he dances over the difference between the two as though it is of little importance.
Enraptured in their little repartee, Charlie did not see the small spider skitter across the floor. Perhaps it had grown tired of its place within Kirihito’s pocket or perhaps its hunger simply could not be satiated by the flesh of a simple earthworm. Either way, through those faceted eyes, Charlie was a grand feast to be had, with or without Kirihito’s sanctioning.
“Certainly in your own tribal background you would not feel that your history is merely a precursor to the monarchy.” She was taking a stab. He had struck her as a tribal character and had simply thrown herself out on the line to be corrected. If she was right, surely it would be a personal victory. If she was wrong, then there was little harm done.
The little spider did not hesitate at her neatly rounded brown leather flats not at her this cotton socks. Deeply involved in the conversation, not even the warning tickle of eight legs against her bare calf was enough to distract her. It was a shame. How could fate have changed if she had simply taken the moment to brush it away? “Perhaps I am being too harsh. Certainly I seem to have fixated on a small subject of the book. The treatment of tribes as merely the primordial soup of “civilization” simply irks me. Your class is turning out to be an interesting little challenge though.” She flashed him a bright smile. It was nice to see that a keen mind and personal charm were not always mutually exclusive. Unfortunately, the pleasantries were not to last as the sharp pincers of the spider drove itself into Charlie’s soft flesh.
“Ow! Dammit, I think I’ve been bit!” Charlie looked annoyed more than in actual pain. She had grown up in places where everything bit or stung: spiders, mosquitoes, ants, flies, snakes. She cut off the conversation to survey the damage, a single pink dot on the back of her calf, swollen slightly, a needle prick of blood in the center. She brushed away the blood and made a small tut tut. There was little to be worried about. Ulster was not home to any seriously venomous. What in gods name would anything be doing out in a well lit office anyway?
One, two, three seconds
She could feel the venom beginning to move through the body. First there was the pin pricking tingles as though her leg had been fast asleep, followed directly by a burning sensation that took her breath away. She felt as though someone were cauterizing the wound with a frying pan in an ever eradiating circles around the wound. Instinctively she spread her legs and pressed down on the pressure point with her palm, trying to slow the blood flow from the wound to her heart.
Four, five
“What the… by your leg! There’s the little bastard!” The little spider dashed across the floor towards Kirihito’s shoe, back to the safety of his master until the venom took its fateful toll and it could reap its reward. “What is it? A gold crown?” It was strange that she should be so close to the truth. The gold crown spider was a near, slightly less deadly, relative to Kirihito’s miserable little pet. It lived far south of here, enjoying the balmy moisture of jungle. Charlie squinted her eyes as her vision began to blur. Where was the tell tale gold ring? It was hard to tell. She had been bitten by a gold crown before and it had never affected her like this.
Ten, twelve
She sat back in her chair. The air around her began to feel hollow as though her head were in an echo chamber. What was Professor Arachne trying to tell her? It took all her concentration to make out his words and half of them still sounded like a poor attempt at a foreign language. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing slowly and evenly. The pain in her leg was so strong it made her entire body ache.
Fifteen
She felt as though she was going to vomit right here in the office, as though she was going to lose control of her entire body and simply sink down to the floor. She opened her eyes, trying to focus and find Kirihito. What the hell was the man doing? Why had he not gone to get her a doctor? She moved her hand from her leg so that she could grip the chair. She was trembling slightly, small spasms were wrenching in waves from top to bottom. For the first time since the cave-in, she considered death.
Twenty
There was no montage of memories like they speak of in books. There were no feathered images of her parents, the many tribes that they had hauled her off to and then torn her away from. She did not think of the man she had nearly married nor, in her pain, could she recall his name. Nor did she dote on what could have been with Daniel or any of the other hearts she had broken, or those who had broken hers. Despite the poetics, all she would think was ‘What a damned waste.’ She had things to do, a thesis to finish. She hadn’t ever planned to be a lifetime student, especially if it meant ending her life now. Her parents would not find out for months. They would miss the funeral. That would break their hearts. The university wouldn’t cancel classes. Who would come? No names came to mind. It would be such a sorry sight but people were busy this time of year. What a damned inconvenience.
Thirty seconds. Right on time.
Her body seemed to go slack as she slid back in her chair. Her head was lobbed back to that in accentuated the finely drawn line of her neck and for a moment there was nothing. It was amazing that, in death, she had lost none of her loveliness. Her cheeks seemed flushed instead of drained. Her hair hung in tight ringlets around her face and the sun filtering through the window seemed to set her bit of frizz a glow like a halo. She had succumbed to the poison more gracefully than his other victims. There were no spasms on the floor, no blood or loss of other human juices. To say she appeared to be merely asleep seemed passé but indeed it was as though death had merely drifted down upon her instead of draining her away. There was something else though, more spectacular and strange for a victim of Kirihito’s spider bite. It was something that Kirihito might, at first have trouble putting his finger on.
She was still breathing
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Kirihito Arachne
Newbie
Diplomacy is the art of talking sweetly to one's enemy while looking for one's knife.
Posts: 24
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Post by Kirihito Arachne on Apr 5, 2005 13:08:57 GMT -5
The barest hint of amusement shone on his face was lips upturned at her assumptions. Tribal background. Kirihito never had revealed to anyone where it was that he was from, and he was sure that Ahote was just as smart to shroud his ethnicity. Most people did not remember the Yuudo at all, but those that did know of them –of which he was sure Charlie Dudox and Daniel Carter were among- would not have believed him even if he told them the truth. Perhaps they would, but skepticism would be hard to overcome as no one actually knew of any living Yuudo tribes. Because of the cultural obsession with purity of bloodlines and the lack of an alphabet for many centuries there weren’t even any descendents or writings left to tell much about the lost people of the forest. Thusly, they were able to live and operate below the anthropological radar, as it were, and there wasn’t a Yuudo among them that wanted that changed.
“Indeed I would agree, Ms. Charlie. I do not believe my tribe would ever aspire to a monarchy; however we have our own system. To be truthful, most hierarchies are the same in base framework, it is simply they titles we as men and women place on them that make them more or less primitive in the eyes of society.” A coy smile, rather tongue in cheek, a small bone tossed to the young detective of history that she was well on her way to ‘the right track’ about his roots.
When the spider skittered over the floor as Charlie talked Kirihito made no mention, no glance downwards to the small arachnid, nothing changed. But he knew. For a moment there was a pang of disappointment, after all Charlie had proven to be very bright and far more tolerable than any other human he had thus met- save for Ahote. For as many times as Kirihito had tried to kill the beast master, he was still the boldest warrior and most worthy adversary the insect handler had yet to find on this miserable overridden continent. With Ahote nowhere to be found, however, and this bright young woman with a mind sharp enough to challenge him in an intellectual forum, it was with a slightly wistful eye that he waited for the inevitable.
One, two, three seconds.
She wasn’t down yet. The smile spread. She was so glorious, wasn’t she? So strong. But even the strongest of them had to succumb to the spider’s deadly venom.
Four, five.
Still standing, as well as coherent. How very interesting indeed. As she pointed behind him he slid granite colored eyes down to the floorboards in mild interest. “I don’t see anything there, Ms Charlie.” The same pleasant, calm tenor tone bluffed masterfully. The spider with the crimson cape on its back scuttled into the shadows, almost as if it had been naught but mere illusion.
Ten, twelve.
“I do agree with your analysis that the book is perhaps shall I say narrow minded in its approach to the subject, however sometimes we must make do with such subpar materials. To date I have not found anything better to teach from. To be honest I was hoping that more students would bring up the problems you found presented in it, but alas instead they seem to be utilizing the class to study the insides of their eyelids.” Still waiting. Why was she not convulsing? Why was she still standing? What a spectacular creature, fighting to the very end!
Fifteen.
Finally she stepped backwards and gripped the chair. The smile he wore was almost comforting, a reward for her, for being so brave and doing so well in the face of overwhelming adversity. But fate is fate, dear Ms. Charlie, he thought to himself, waiting for the final plunge into darkness for her.
Twenty.
The smile flattened out. This was taking entirely too long. The advantage of the venom of a Cardinal Spider was that it worked so quickly the person was dead, normally, in under thirty seconds and no one ever knew why. Heart attack, they usually said, or some kind of brain infection. The puncture was so small, they never even noticed. But this was dangerous, what if someone walked in? What if she cried out or attracted attention? This was the time when seconds turned into hours and so much could happen between the ticking of the clock’s hand.
Thirty seconds. Right on time.
Or was it?
Her body finally went slack and fell to the chair with little noise, surprisingly. A small sigh came from the professor as he moved to her. Fingers of olive touched her lovely face gently. Such a shame, such a shame, she was so glorious, was she not? “You could not have died more beautifully, Ms. Charlie.” He whispered as fingertips caressed the line of her jaw, the soft yielding flesh of her neck. But his hand halted there and it was not the blood from her face that was draining. Olive skin paled as slate eyes widened in disbelief at the feeling right below his index finger along the side of her neck.
A pulse.
She was alive.
She was still breathing.
Unbelievable, he thought, inconceivable. Only Yuudo had immunity to this venom, not even all of them. Even Ahote had nearly died from it, had he not been saved at the last minute twice by the aid of an antidote. How thoroughly wonderful! The smile crept over his face once more, admiration and the undeniable mark of pure infatuation filled him. She was truly a warrioress of all aspects, mental and physical alike.
Bending down next to the chair he reached into the pocket of his finely pressed white suit jacket. In his hand appeared a small silver letter opener. As he drew the sharpened edge over his palm his eyes never left her sweet face, even as the wells of ruby blood began to seep from the cut. “I am sorry, my friend.” He said absently to the spider that had crawled up onto his shoulder and was now twitching its forelegs in anticipation. “But you will have to find a meal elsewhere tonight.” He raised his hand and pressed the wound to her lips. “Drink it, my dear, my sleeping goddess.” He said softly as the blood ran smoothly over her lips and into her mouth. Normally human beings could not process blood, but in small amounts it was tolerable to the stomach lining. When it came to Kirihito, however, the only thing that could save Charlie Dudox now ran in his veins. An antidote he could administer whenever and wherever he chose to.
“No, my pet. Not this one. She does not die this day.” He told the spider as it chattered in its agitated voice in his ear. “I have much bigger plans for her. She will drink, and she will live. And she will stand at my side when all is said and done with our plan. She shall be my Queen.”<br>
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Post by Charlie Dudox on Apr 6, 2005 20:32:39 GMT -5
Charlie’s mouth parted slightly in the slack peacefulness of unconsciousness. Against his bloody palm, her breath was soft and even. Her lips felt soft, dabbed lightly with lipstick to keep away the dry winter air. She seemed almost to kiss the cut for a moment, bringing the life saving blood into her struggling body. Either by instinct or fortune she swallowed down the drops of life saving elixir.
While the poison had not dealt its usual swift blow, it still was working towards its ultimate goal. Without the antidote, death would be slow and intolerably painful. It would have been a marvel for the doctors who would have treated her, filed away as a death of unknown causes, brought out as a case study of what science still had not mastered. But Kirihito’s blood was fast working. With amazing efficiency it entered her blood stream, neatly disposing of the enzyme that had caused Charlie such sudden distress. Now her heart was working over time, pumping the remainders to her kidneys to cleanse what was left over. If one could see the process, it would be glorious to watch. To Kirihito she would appear merely to be sleeping soundly as her body worked over time to repair itself.
Despite the gift of blood, it was over a half an hour before Charlie awoke from the shock. Both mind and body stirred slowly, seeming to take careful account that all her parts were present and working. First her fingers twitched playing across her soft fabric of her skirt, her movements subtle and most likely unnoticed by the casual viewer. Moments later, she opened her eyes slowly, dark brown and large as moons, blinking several times to clear the blurriness from her vision. Above her there was ceiling, painted white. It was not the wooden slats of her bedroom or of anywhere else that she could identify. For a moment she allowed fatigue to pull her back into her dreamless sleep but the unanswered questions kept her from drifting too far away. Where was she? What the hell had just happened to her? Her head shot up in sudden distress as these questions finally crystallized. She felt as though she had run a marathon. Her muscles ached and seemed almost too weak to move despite the fact her heart was beating a million miles a minute. In distress she glanced about herself, only seeming to relax when they fell upon a familiar face. Kirihito had been staring at her in slightly amusement the entire time, watching her bloom into consciousness.
Confusion spread across her features as she slowly waited for the events leading up to this to return to her.
“Mr. Arachne… I… I’m sorry. I-- What happened?”<br> It had not been the first time that she had passed out. Twice before she had gotten sick and refused to take care of herself, but she could not remember feeling at all ill this morning. The look on her face was one of sweet bewilderment. At least for the moment, when she could remember nothing before now, she looked ready to believe anything he told her. This time would not last though. Charlie was an intelligent creature, not prone to believe lies or half truths that went against her instinct.
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Kirihito Arachne
Newbie
Diplomacy is the art of talking sweetly to one's enemy while looking for one's knife.
Posts: 24
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Post by Kirihito Arachne on Apr 7, 2005 14:49:34 GMT -5
She truly was a goddess, he thought as brown waves fell about her when her head lolled forward. Watching her wake up was like watching a beautiful butterfly claw its way free from a cocoon. Air filled her lungs with a gasp that made his heart flutter as she threw off her asphyxiation and breathed in a new life. The blood had worked. The smile on his face was almost one of admiration for her, his desire and his pupil, for overcoming his test of her prowess. Finally, he had found the one he could call Queen.
Taking up an earthen mug he had filled with water from his desk and moved to her side. Carefully kneeling on white pressed pants beside her he offered up the earthen cup with a strange and unreadable face. “You fainted, Ms. Charlie.” Was the simple answer to her question. No doubt she would be thirsty. The victims of the bite often suffered dehydration once the antidote was administered. She was strong, he noted though, as she hadn’t screamed, nor vomited, nor displayed any other uncontrolled action. How beautiful.
“Do you feel alright?” he inquired, wrapping slender fingers around her chair’s arm to balance himself. No mention was made of the spider which he already denied seeing in the first place. That had been neatly tucked away, the blood from the letter opener had been cleaned and her face had been wiped down with a cool rag to dispose of the evidence of her revival. No need to let her know these things now. Not yet. All in good time, when the rest of his plan was ready to be implemented.
She would be hungry. Her body would need energy to fend off the rest of the toxin, though her balance and her muscle motor would restore quickly. “I’m very sorry, I have no idea what happened. Perhaps I can make it up to you somehow? It would be a shame to end such a wonderfully intelligent conversation so quickly after it had begun. Would it be too much if I bought you lunch at the eatery down the road?” So polite, and ever the quiet gentleman, even in the heat of battle the Kiryuudo never forgot his manners.
A smile of overwhelming reassurance was offered, gray eyes taking on a deep and empathetic gaze beyond the frames of his glasses. “I think it might make you feel better, my dear. You look a little bit shaken.”
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Post by Charlie Dudox on Apr 8, 2005 19:51:36 GMT -5
She nodded her head absentmindedly as he answered her question. Of course she had fainted, that was obvious. The question was why? There was something deeply disturbing about ones body acting beyond of ones command. It rocked her usual faith in her own strength and self-control. She accepted the water gratefully, cupping her hands about the mug and sipping it gingerly. The cool liquid ran down her throat with each sip, between her attempts to breathe slowly and calm her thumping heart.
As she stared into the reflection of the water, her mind was turned inwards in self diagnoses. There would be no way to calm herself until she had at least an inkling of what had just occurred. It was not the first time she had gotten ill. Her childhood was pocked with moment of extreme sickness beginning when she was only five years old and had succumbed to Heps disease. The figures related to the rare tropic disease were staggering: thirty five percent of children who were infected died within the next year. Another thirty percent would be described as weak, sickly or invalid for the rest of their lives. The side effects of those who survived generally lasted a lifetime and varied from muscle aches, periodic chills, fainting, loss of coordination, to infertility, spasms, and heart palpitations. Though the Heps epidemics had begun a mere thirty years ago, several tribes had been decimated. Full generations of men and women were coming of age in the jungle and were unable to work, or worse, unable to produce the future.
For the first ten years, the strange disease known as Heps had ravaged the tropics unchecked. The shamans called it punishment from above, a poison brought by evil water spirits. The chieftains called it a threat to their future. It took a full decade for a man named Dr. Arthur Plensy to call in a parasite hosted by the Red Water Fly, transferred to a fish, eaten by a human. The Red Fly was one of nature’s more nasty and ingenious creations. Within its gut lived a microscopic parasite that was the fly’s greatest weapon and strongest defense. Anything that the Red Fly attached to was injected with the parasite crammed saliva and was dead within a couple of hours. Anything that ate the red fly suffered a similar fate. Unlike its detritus devouring brethren, the fly was known to kill prey varying from mice to fish. For hundreds of years, it had never bothered a human, nor vice a versa. As with so much of evolution, there was little logic to the mutation that allowed the Heps parasite to live within fish tissue without killing its host. But the resilient micro-invertebrate thrived within its new host and even survived the cooking fire only to find itself a larger host, the bodies of tribal children, who were soon riddled by fever.
It took several more years for Dr. Plensy to find the one predator that happily fed on the Red Fly, the humble gold crowned spider. Far less deadly than its crimson caped cousins, the gold crown spider’s venom dissolved the Heps parasite almost on contact. Charlie began taking doses of gold crown spider venom when she was twelve. She remembered the battles she had with her father over being the guinea pig for the new cure, how the heavy dosage had laid her out for days. She had felt weak, dizzy, sore, dehydrated. This was the first time she had felt that way since Plensy had created the far more moderate and palatable pill. It was possible, she supposed, that the pill she had taken this morning was somehow too pure, too strong a dose, still, that was strange after so many years of building up a tolerance.
She finished up the water and shook her head at Kirihito’s query. “I’ll be fine. It was probably just a reaction to some medication I’ve been taking.” Though these words were spoken with enough confidence, she could not believe them completely. Still, there would be no solving her medical mysteries for the moment. Moreover, a far more intriguing mystery had begun to assert itself.
The change in Kirihito’s demeanor was immediately obvious to her. When she had entered he had been aloof, even snide though as intelligent as she had hoped. All the sudden he was on his knees for her, literally, and now asking her out for a meal. It was possible, of course, that he was merely worried at the poor impression that sending an ill student off might cause among the faculty. Still, Charlie believed her instincts towards men to be slightly keener than that. Kirhito was not her usual type in a man. He was older than her, though on his face it was hard to tell. He seemed, at moments, cold, or perhaps greatly self contained. This was not to mention the fact that Charlie had utterly sworn off professors after the Daniel incident. Still, he was handsome, mysterious, and not without charm. It was not hard to remind herself that her “type” had only gotten her into trouble these past few years, and some food would probably do her good.
Uncertain of her strength, her took Kirihito’s hand and stood up slowly. For a moment she stood as her brain swam in circles and settled back down. “I think perhaps some food would do me well, though I don’t know how intelligent my conversation will be after this.” She granted him a sweet if not exhausted smile and squeezed his hand lightly. Walking slowly from his office, she could not help but notice the strange tingling and soreness in her leg. A drug reaction had never done that before.
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Kirihito Arachne
Newbie
Diplomacy is the art of talking sweetly to one's enemy while looking for one's knife.
Posts: 24
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Post by Kirihito Arachne on Apr 11, 2005 11:26:37 GMT -5
Her return smile and concession of a meal with him was met only with his own usual cryptic smile and a small nod of the head. He held the door politely and walked after her. The Academy was a small enough place and it was only a short walk until they were out in the afternoon sun. Kirihito paused and closed his eyes, letting himself drift away to another place and time for a flash of an instant before opening gray eyes to train on his company. “If you do not mind my asking, Ms. Charlie, where exactly do you come from? It seems to me that you know a great deal about tribalism and its mechanics. And I am no anthropologist, but I do believe those beads you’re wearing to be southern continent.” He recognized some of the patterns. The tribes traded with the Kiryuudo villages just above the volcanic line and the greater of the two local rivers where his spiders were found.
The eatery he had spoken of was along the main road not more than half a mile from the Academy itself. Kirihito again held the door polite as could be and followed her in. It was the only place he would eat. After all in such a place as Ulster finding vegetarian meals was hard, Vegan almost impossible. There was the rare occasion that he had to eat an animal product such as eggs or cheese just to survive. Not all the protein a body needed for survival came from legumes, after all. Least of all a Yuudo born body.
In the middle of the room was what appeared to be a self serve buffet, a pay as you walk in kind of place. Kirihito placed some coins on the counter to the excited grin of the cashier. He had no use for money, never had and never would. It was better in the hands of the young man behind the counter. Picking up and earthen plate he skillfully picked around the meat selecting a brownish, sticky rice, a few samples of what looked like hummus or bean paste, and some stone ground wheat bread with jelly for his meal. An odd diet he kept, that was for sure- at least in comparison to the rest of Ulster.
As she sat his eyes transfixed on her face again, making that unnerving kind of eye contact that wasn’t malicious or intent on something, just uncomfortable between acquaintances. Eyes like granite pearls tripped over the beads and the manner of dress, soaking in the details of them. She was the perfect selection… and she would never know until the end.
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Post by Charlie Dudox on Apr 11, 2005 23:23:50 GMT -5
Charlie felt slightly shaky as she walked to the restaurant. It was as though all her strength had been sapped from her when she fainted. Her steps were slow but steady, though the tingling in her leg persisted. Though she said nothing of it, she was deeply grateful for Kirihito’s presence. To faint was awkward, but at least if it happened again, there would be someone there to perhaps catch her when she fell or at least make sure no one took her purse. Despite the obvious logic that this was indeed a Heps side effect rearing its ugly head once more, one thought kept returning to Charlie over and over. It felt like spider venom, even if there were no spiders strong enough to put a person down as it had her, not even the Golden Crown was that strong. Still, despite these uncertainties, the mere warmth of the sun outside the University building lifted her spirits and her soul. There were those in this world who took pleasure in the winter months, the glisten of new snow, blizzards and crisp winds, but Charlie would trade them all for a day when the heat of the sun seemed to radiate from every surface, the grass below her, the air on her skin. Soon it would be like that once more in Ulster, and she could shirk off these sweaters for clothes that suited her personality far better.
Kirihito’s question made her smile. It was not an easy one to answer. When asked where she was from, she had always tailored her answer to who had asked it. There were those who would not trust her without her Invernis address and those who needed to hear of her time with the tribes to prove her worth. To Kirihito, who seemed to have no motives either way, she spelled out her lineage simply and chronologically.
“I’m from the equator I suppose, though naming anywhere in particular becomes tricky. My parents are anthropologists and I was dropped in a new tribe every few years. I was born among the Zampa but I was only three when I left them, then I spent a little more than a year in Invernis, then we lived with the Haronas for three years, two more awkward years in Ulster, then we joined the Zorans for three years, three more years in Invernis then I was with the Tumbis until University. I haven’t been back since. And you are correct, the jewelry is Harona.” If Kirihito was up on his tribes, he would realize how impressive this series really was. The Haronas were now believed to be a ‘lost tribe’ and the Zorans were rumored to be rather violent cannibals. What Kirihito was unlikely to realize was that this was, indeed, her longest sojourn away from the balmy weather and torrential rain that she knew as home. She covered any home sickness for the home she never quite had with a soft smile. “What about you? I still have not been able to place it. What tribe are you from Mr. Arachne?”<br> Entering the restaurant, Charlie rummaged in her purse only to realize that there was no need as Kirhito had paid for her as well. Mentally she added a check next to his name for chivalry. How rare and impressive. Unlike Kirihito, Charlie had no issue with meat. Most of her life, she had been a hunter gatherer and it would be unnatural to cut out half of that diet. But this winter she had gained a little weight, and though she pretended not to be vain about her body, the extra roundness of her tummy irked her every time she looked in the mirror. She piled her plate with salad greens, sighing at the lack of fresh vegetables this time of year and poured herself a bowl of chicken soup and took a piece of fresh baked bread. Slowly she drank the soup, testing her stomach’s reaction to the food. It would be miserable to eat too much only to retch up everything in front of her professor.
Still it was difficult to concentrate on her food with Kirihito piercing her with those staring eyes of his. Still, Charlie held his gaze well. In the wild she would be challenging him to a fight but here, in the confines of the small café it was just enough to make her smile softly. Was he truly stricken with her as he appeared? It would not be the first time a man had been infatuated by the exotic young woman. Quite a few of them had invited her out to dinner over her college career. She had made almost an equal number of them breakfast the next day.
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Kirihito Arachne
Newbie
Diplomacy is the art of talking sweetly to one's enemy while looking for one's knife.
Posts: 24
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Post by Kirihito Arachne on Apr 19, 2005 19:10:47 GMT -5
He had expected the question and so it was taken in stride and in fact at being asked about his tribe he smiled and finally broke the most unnerving eye contact he had been holding. Before he even began his answer to a most complex inquiry as his heritage, he ate a little more rice and engaged in a bit more superfulous conversation. "Your life seems to have facilitaed your career and helped it well, Ms. Charlie. It is a very prestigious resume." Eyes flitted up to her again. She always shifted, a tad bit uncomfortable with his stare. Most people, he noticed, were. "Though I am glad to hear about your background. Perhaps you can forgive me some of my more... unsavory mannerisms. I do realize that it is highly impolite to stare, however sometimes the social constructs of a society such as this slip my mind. I'm sure you understand. To observe is to survive where we come from. I meant no ill intent by it."
"As far as my own history, I shy from telling you only because as an anthropologist of some stature, I don't think you'd readily believe me if I did tell you the truth. Most times I pass myself off as Hapona, but anyone who's ever had contact with them knows that my ... physique... does not fit their characteristics well enough. I suppose that makes me a liar, though a horrible one." He chuckled and picked up another sticky ball of rice with his chopstick like implements and chewed on it thoughtfully. "And please, you needn't call me by my formal name. It's merely a title anyway. Please call my Kirihito, though if that is too much of a mouthful, most collegues call me Kay."
Not that he had any collegues, he thought to himself. He wasn't an academic. Well, not to the standards of those such as Dr. Graff and Dr. Carter. He wasn't a Dr. of anything, just the simple fact that he was literate made him well educated for his tribe. "Please don't think me facetious for the answer to your question. I will try to explain it as best I can without looking totally inept, though I do hope your opinion of me does not change after I tell you." It would be quite a lot for her to swallow, that was for sure. No one, well, maybe a handful of people on the planet even knew that Yuudo tribes still existed. Most thought they were extinct.
"I am of Kiryuudo descent. Full blooded, of course." A small smile. It was culturally forbidden for bastard children to be born within the tribes. On the rare occassion they were, they were killed immediately usually by the parents themselves. Yuudos prized their pure blood in the utmost and would not sacrifice their lineage even for their offspring. True this made survival hard, but it also kept their special and malleable genetics from becoming corrupted, something every Yuudo knew was their own personal responsibility.
"I lived for most of my young life with a tribe outside of the old lands we called home down along the volcanic rim in the south. That was why I recognized your jewelry. We traded wtih Hapona quite frequently for medicinal herbs from the north. We have dwindling numbers and the long journeys are hard. There was also one Maryuudo tribe in that area when I was younger, and as you probably know we are dire enemies, so we could not afford to risk our lives trekking northwards when we could easily trade woven goods and antivenoms taken from our insects instead."
Kiryuudo meant in the old tongues Insect Handler just as Maryuudo meant Beast Master. Perhaps that shed some light on Kirihito's diet, his strange dress, and his penchant for watching things as closely as possible. While spider tribe members were sneaky predators, they also learned from their insect brethern to act as prey, always watching for an attack, always waiting for opportunities to arise. Though his worries were not unfounded. Yuudo were always seen, especially in academic circles, as 'missing links' and most lived up to the name of acting savagely and discoordinate with modern culture, scaring people and living as they had thousands of years ago. Such retroactive beings were not considered fully human, and Kirihito often found himself victim of the stereotype.
"When I was younger and my village was... disbanded... I left on a tour of the known world, or what I thought I knew of it at least. It turned out to be a tad bit bigger than I thought. I saw many things, i taught myself to read and write, and now I am here. I am sorry I cannot profess to own a degree or a proficency in much of anything let alone a specialization, however most people find me rather intelligent until they unconver the truth of my descent." A smile and the handsome feather haired 'savage' went back to his rice and bean paste.
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Post by Charlie Dudox on Apr 20, 2005 17:35:00 GMT -5
It was almost comical to watch Charlie’s expressions if they were not so sweetly genuine. It was obvious that she thought he was kidding her. The likelihood that the man sitting across the table from her was indeed Yuudo, was just slightly more likely than if he had claimed to be from Atlantis, or one of the lost Hebrew tribes. Still, as he spoke on, it because more obvious to her that this was no joke at all.
“Yuudo? You’re serious aren’t you.”<br> Crossing her legs, Charlie bent forward towards him, examining him with the same physical intensity that he stared at her when she entered his office. He was not Harona. This was obvious to her, having spent so much time with them. The Harona had broader chins, broader foreheads and both men and women had a more masculine appearance to them. Her eyes drifted over his dark almond eyes, his high cheek bones, the color of his skin. It fit with him being Yuudo. She tried to salvage the little that she had learned about them over her years of study. The Yuudo were a ‘lost’ tribe. Little was officially known about them in the academic world, most of the knowledge was hearsay and myths of shape shifters, warriors, murderers, cannibals, and those who had grown directly from the mud of mother earth. As a little girl, Charlie had of course relished such tales of ‘savages’ though she knew better than to believe everything she heard. Still, he fit with much of what she knew.
The excitement grew inside her as she confirmed that he was indeed what he said. There was no sign that she was at all repulsed by him or thought any less of him by betraying his heritage. Instead, her face seemed to shine with new interest.
“I never realized the Haronas traded with the Kiryuudo, but then again, I was just a little girl at the time. I wonder if I have any weavings of your tribe from back then. I had always assumed that the Yuudo were rather isolationist, not much for world travel. Are there many Kiryuudo to travel the world under the guise of the Haronas?” If Charlie thought of him as any less than human, it did not show. Instead she seemed to have found a new reason to respect him. “You will have to tell me all about what it is like to live in your tribe. I’ve of course heard the tales but scientists, for the most part, are prone to lies, exaggerations and bias.” She realized after a moment, that she had begun to babble and cut herself off by once more sipping at her water. As though it was an uncomfortable after thought she added in a softer tone. “And the Haronas, have you been in contact with them these past few years? Last I heard, they were not doing well.” It had been among the Haronas that she had caught Heps and many of her playmates had been buried before the end of the wet season. Their numbers were dwindling and, though Charlie rarely spoke of it, she feared that in the next generation, they would simply cease to exist.
Were her parents here, they would probably be on their knees, begging to interview him, to visit his homeland and publish the first real book on the Kiryuudo, which would be enough to make anyone famous. Luckily, Charlie had a little more tact and was still far more interested in archeology. Still, her curiosity was peaked.
“Kirihito” She grinned, trying out his first name and giving him a wink “I do believe you are my find of the century.”<br>
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Kirihito Arachne
Newbie
Diplomacy is the art of talking sweetly to one's enemy while looking for one's knife.
Posts: 24
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Post by Kirihito Arachne on Apr 20, 2005 18:06:20 GMT -5
Her words gave rise to a chuckle, and then, a most unlikely even; a tinge of pink entered into his cheeks and he felt a bit flushed by the praise. So long had he spent with his people removed from the lands he found to be so savagely civilized that he had forgotten what it was like to be the lost anthropological unicorn. Gray eyes drifted up to her and a small private smile was shared. "Ohjah abye, ulehaletsi nagsi tla..." He said quietly in his native tongue, an ancient language that had only ever been seen by this world written and had probably not been spoken among them for thousands of years. Kirihito was one of the few men left alive that actually knew how the Yuudo language was to be pronounced correctly. All living Yuudo did.
"I will answer all of those questions in good time, but please for my own sanity do not share the information with your collegues or I should think I might never get a day's rest ever again." And that, Charlie ought to know, was hardly an exageration of the truth.
"To address your numerous questions, we no longer have contact with the Harona. There are many tales of our first livelihood in a place called Tsalaya, though no one knows if it exists or not I must say after studying much of my own history I believe it lies just west of the country of Lucemedia. There is a vast acreage of uncharted land there and I would not doubt the forest holds many secrets indeed." Yes, many secrets, such as the prodigy Adam Masou and the world's last known blossoming Simbulmuna grove where in the summertime it snowed petals and gave life to the once proud homeland of the first humans ever.
"However my tribe was forced to move due to volcanic activity. We relocated closer to the north but many were slain by the neighboring Maryuudo tribe. They did not survive much past a few decades ago either, I believe they are almost completely wiped out." Which was not a lie. Zaiido and Adam were the only two left from the Kiryuudo massacre on their village that Kirihito so graciously left out of his analysis. "But I have been gone for quite some time and I regret to say there are at least a year's worth of memories taken from me due to an accident, so I could not recall where most of my tribesmen are, though I have a fair idea. Normally, I'm sure you can assume, they do not like to be bothered by the outside world and prefer to live in what even the Harona deem to be uninhabitable places."
Folding his hands on the table he leaned forwards as if disclosing a great secret to her. "I trust you, Charlie, but I know what question is coming next and please do not ask me if you can try to find them. What you must understand, even having lived with supposedly savage tribes is that we are not like you. And I do not mean that in reference to your heritage. Yuudo in general do not share all the same physiology as human beings and it affords us certain abilities that you cannot have. It comes with its own price, true enough, however, we live as a part of the world, not simply in it and it is still a different dynamic even from people like the Harona. We are not considered human to the neighboring tribes, we are considered intelligent animals, and that is not always entirely untrue. I chose to seperate myself from that culture to fit in with yours in order to save my people, not because I do not have those inclinations myself, and so if I sometimes treat you as an animal would it is out of respect, and not to mean any offense."
Speaking to an anthropologist in such a way was surely close to exciting. Hearing from a Yuudo of either kind for Charlie must have been like talking to the dead. After all, there were very few people that even believed the Yuudo still existed, and they might as well have been right. They were in such remote locations in such low numbers that it barely mattered. They would be dead within a generation. "And I may not even know where to find them. They must move with the food, as always. I could only estimate, to answer another question, that there are perhaps only around one hundred and fifty to two hundred Yuudo left alive, and the bulk of those Kiryuudo."
And there was where he decided to stop for the day. More than likely the records of the older times when Yuudo were not afraid to interact with people would surface soon as she researched, which he knew she would, and she would start to unravel the major difference between the Maryuudo and the Kiryuudo and inquire as to if there was any truth behind their special gifts. But that would be a bridge to cross when they came to it. For now, Kirihito was happy to eat his food and begin to twist her bias to his side.
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