unrequited platonic interest, part 1
Mar. 15th, 2020 01:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
catwif3rating: t
word count: 5000
fandom: steampocalypse: a post-apocalyptic fantasy steampunk 'verse
||===============================||
"how am i supposed to tell if i'm feeling someone else's emotions?" aaren used to ask her mother when she was very young.
"you'll be able to tell," her mother said. "it should be obvious."
aaren used to pout about that, because she wasn't expressing magic from birth, the way full-blood elves did, but instead the human way, getting more powerful and sensitive as she got older, and she'd used to feel very slow and sloppy and left out and wrong.
"i don't think i can tell," aaren used to say. "all the emotions i'm feeling feel like mine."
"they might be, then," her mother said, and, still infuriatingly cryptic, "you'd be able to tell."
aaren never got it, because as far as her elven relatives could tell, she wasn't empathic any more than standard null humans usually got, and maybe not particularly by their standards, either. but then, humans were raised with an emphasis on learning to care about the emotions of others; elves are raised not to care too much, because that was the sort of way most of them went mad (either in the end or in the middle, after which they were considered to have learned that lesson "the hard way"). telepathic, yes, but generally to a lesser ambient degree than most full elves, and much better at sendings, generally, than perceptions.
so it's a very, very strange feeling, to learn at age forty, what her mother meant when she said, "you'll know."
aaren isn't angry, or frustrated, or in a very great deal of general rattling emotional pain. she isn't truly feeling it, either, more like... tasting the edges of it, how it would be if she were feeling all that herself. what she is feeling is very interested in finding the source of all that, because either they're having a meltdown so incredibly intense that they've awakened aaren's latent talents as an empath, or they're projecting so strongly that she and all the other non-empaths are feeling it.
which is honestly such an asshole move, considering the general negativity of the emotions involved, that aaren just has to meet this being.
look, aaren has never claimed to be nice. she's been labeled "kind of a bitch, really" by friends and unwilling acquaintances alike. it's by nature and nurture that she honestly kind of likes it that way. like the worst of elvish disconnect and human contrariness all expressed through her own general being.
it's not hard to find the person at the source of the projection. everyone in the tavern had got a little more snappy at once, and there's a new guy settling in at the bar. aaren gathers up her things and her dinner and performs a minor juggling act to slip in next to him before the innkeep or barkeeps even manage to address their new customer. he glares askance at her a little as he shucks his traveling cloak, not even bothering to be subtle about it. aaren grins at him completely unsubtly in return, and indulges in a bit of preening when he seems to double-take more at this than her eyes, which are the usual elven black pits, but unusually clouded with threads of a pale violet color she inherited from her father.
"hey," she says, when he only frowns at her and looks back to the bar. "so, just out of curiosity, you wouldn't happen to know if any of the rest of these guys know they're picking up your emotions? like, can everyone tell or is that just an elf thing? thanks for that, by the way, though, really cool, i've never actually experienced it before."
"what the fuck," is the first thing lithi ever says to her.
"you are aware that you're like, emotionally projecting, right?" aaren asks. he stares at her with big, disconcertingly pale eyes and consternation and growing annoyance prick at her brain. so. cool. also, she has his attention now.
"what," he repeats. this happens to aaren a lot, actually.
"because that's a lot of power to be doing that unconsciously, shit," she says appreciatively. "what even are you?"
"who the fuck are you?" he asks.
"aaren sindra!" aaren introduces herself. "i'm traveling. you?"
"... lithi," he says. "also... traveling." he says it the same way she does, too, where it's an occupation rather than a current event with a destination.
"so if you don't mind me asking,"
"i do," lithi says, and aaren ignores this.
"what's got you where you need to go sharing your emotions with the entire building?"
"i am not!" lithi growls, but the dismay flavoring the miasma overlaying aaren's feelings belies that. is this what full elves are experiencing all the time? wild. also, probably exhausting. but aaren's waited so long to not feel broken that she can't help but enjoy it, even if that's probably a little sadistic of her in this case.
"dude," aaren tries for mild and unjudgemental, and probably misses by more than a bit. "the whole bar got riled up the minute you walked in. there are like, three fights happening right now that were not remotely close to starting before that."
lithi looks around, mutinous, eyes catching on the couples and one group now sniping at each other. he takes a deep breath and his hands clench tight on the bar, then slowly exhales and suddenly aaren can feel him-- less. like the sun going behind a cloud. aaren deeply wants to know who this guy even is. what is he? elves and fairies are known for various levels of psychic tendencies, but humans can be stunningly powerful as well, though it's rare for them instead of standard. this guy doesn't really seem like any of those. how old is he? he's gotta be human to look as old as he does and still not have a grip on those powers. maybe aaren's age, maybe less?
"y'wanna, you know, talk about it?" aaren asks. lithi glares at her sidelong and very deliberately turns back to signal the bartender, who has been carefully hovering outside the fallout range of their conversation. aaren only pouts a little bit. she'll figure him out. she's got time.
||===============================||
"what are you doing?" lithi asks as aaren packs up her stuff and follows him out the door. he's got a bulky pack that he doesn't look like he should be able to carry, but then, aaren supposes that's the pot calling the kettle, because once they're standing she realizes he's almost exactly the same height and size as her-- which is to say, he's fucking tiny, and aaren is definitely stronger than people think she looks.
"following you," aaren tells him, and is treated once more to his expression of flat incredulity.
"you are not," he says, his voice (so far a soft, rough, high tenor) dropping suddenly to a whole register lower, with dangerous harmonics registering at wavelengths aaren thinks humans don't hear.
"i mean, i could have tried to do it sneakily, but i figured you wouldn't like that," aaren says.
"i don't like this, either," he hisses. "i don't like you."
"i don't think you like anyone, though," aaren says. lithi physically recoils from her, going all stiff and frozen and staring with eyes like chips of glacier ice. for a long moment, there's a sense of rising, oppressive menace. then lithi looks away, hissing a little to himself, like an affronted cat.
"fucking elves," he grumbles. "fine, do what you want."
"thanks, i will!" aaren chirps. seriously, what is this guy.
he heads in the direction straight out of town, off the road and its dubious safety and straight into the woods, which are near certain danger. aaren wonders if that's his modus operandi or if he's trying to get rid of her. if it's the latter, he's likely to be disappointed. he doesn't set a pace like that's the case, though, just slipping through the forest like it's the road, heedless of the growing dark.
the town must have a pretty decent border patrol, because it's nearly an hour before they're attacked. a lone ghast swoops out of the treetops, stooping for them like a hawk after a mouse. lithi twists a dark-metal machete style blade from the sheaths at his hip and slashes its bone-and-gristle wing clean off while aaren is still rolling clear of its strafe. it crashes messily into the ground with a cry like breaking glass and a spray of gritty, grey-brown blood, smoking where it hits the trees and ground. lithi does-- something, a frustrated vicious motion of hands and arms that warps the entire ghast apart. aaren's never felt anything like it.
the rest of the flock rises, screaming, above the trees around them, and then aaren is too busy trying to stay alive to worry too much about it. she has a protective charm and more than several fire-spell grenades, which usually she would use to get the hell out of dodge. she gets halfway there, one enterprising ghast going up in foul-smelling smoke, and another and another and another just barely missing her as she dodges claws, grisly wings, and grasping tree branches trying to tangle in her hair. and then she realizes lithi is not following her.
the first thing aaren thinks, what she will remember later, is that she had thought that this guy at least had more interesting flaws than suicidal levels of machismo. like, she hates to sound conceited (that is a lie) but aaren is a hot piece of ass and she knows it. she's just entirely uninterested in the kind of harvest this could reap her, which makes it even more sad that this would not be the first boy to throw his life away trying to impress her.
at the end of it, though, lithi is standing in the epicenter of more than half a flock of ghasts, even more gruesome and foul in their slashed, twisted, blasted deaths than they were in life. he has two blades unsheathed, panting lightly, eyes red-red-red where before they had been a pink or purple too pale to discern and glowing like a demon's, sharp and too-many-toothed grin a tad too manic and savage.
so at least aaren gets the pleasure of being right about him having interesting problems.
"seriously, what are you?" she asks, unable to stop herself anymore, over the high, raucous screeching of the remaining ghasts retreating into the distance.
lithi looks around at her, mouth twisting back down into a frown and eyes slowly fading back to rose-water ice. he frowns down at his blades and clothes, sacrifices a clean edge of his tunic to start wiping the weapons down before the ghast blood can damage them.
"i'm human," he says, and aaren calls,
"bullshit," at the same time he follows up a beat later with,
"originally. mostly."
which. "what? what the hell does that mean?" aaren asks avidly.
lithi just shrugs.
"i am going to be stunned if you last a week before i strangle you," aaren says.
"you're the one who invited yourself along," lithi snaps, mincing his way out of the ghast-corpse pile and dragging off his tunic. it's probably ruined; the undershirt beneath is also discolored and burned where blood soaked through to it. lithi rummages through his pack and comes back with a new shirt, a worn and wrinkled linen drop-sleeve that he re-sashes with his belt. he wraps the contaminated clothes in what must be a treated cloth, judging by how he then blithely adds it back in with all his other things. aaren, by dint of not being stupid (or bloodthirsty) enough to use physical force on a monster whose blood is another weapone, is only tangled and mussed.
"also," lithi says, long after aaren has accepted that yeah, that's fair, she did decide this herself, "it's only fair that i get to return the infuriating favor."
a feeling aaren is entirely unfamiliar with, a sort of warm, pulsing hunger, licks up the base of her brain, and aaren knows her confusion is showing as she cocks her head at him and tries to make sense of his new expression: a knife-grin and sidelong glance. he lets the moment hang while he hefts his pack easily over one shoulder and stands to look straight at her, but it's not until he blatantly telegraphs his traveling glance down her body that aaren realizes what it is he's projecting.
"huh," she says, turning the feeling over. "are you flirting with me? is this, like, attraction? how is that even an emotion? allosexuals are fucking wild."
"what," lithi says, startling a little, more like he hadn't realized what he was doing than like he was mad it was derailed. "fuck. uh, i guess. most elves don't call people out on this shit, you know."
"i've never been polite once in my life," aaren says flippantly, while she considers. she wants to know what the fuck is going on with this guy, and the best way to encourage sharing is to have a little transparency yourself. "and, like i think i said before, i've never actually felt this before. i'm only half elf. the empathy never turned on. i'm only getting stuff now because you're some kind of unconscious telepathic broadcaster of like, unprecedented power, it's kind of crazy."
"that-- nobody has-- well, fuck," lithi grumble-hisses, more to himself than to aaren. he glares down at the ground, then at her. "let's go," he says, and heads immediately off into the brush.
aaren pursues, of course. she makes a note to herself to get her hair a little more contained tomorrow than the loose braid it's in today, which leaves the length of it thumping the backs of her thighs every time it yanks loose of another plant.
it's more than half an hour later, half an hour of silence while lithi's consternation and other, fleeting emotions flash over aaren's mental palate.
"how much do you know about psychitheory?" he asks.
"a fair amount," aaren says gamely. she's never been sensitive to things like long, awkward silences, and obviously this guy is working entirely on his own timeline. "i've always been interested, didn't know why i wasn't like all the rest of the kids growing up, you know?"
"... so it's entirely possible, then, current science has it that elves and other 'telepaths' have lower resistance naturally to psychic powers."
"that's why we're thought to need shields, yes," aaren says. "it was thought to be the other way around for a long time because conscious shields are usually much stronger than natural resistance alone."
"i thought so. i've always been figuring it the old way, the new theory is so recent," lithi growls.
the "new" theory, while only gaining research and acceptance since aaren was a kid, still nearly thirty years ago, has been around for nearly a century. aaren frowns, eying lithi's back as they skirt ground that is becoming suspiciously marshy. she is suddenly reasonably certain that she has greatly misestimated lithi's age.
"and telepathy and empathy, while often comorbid, are proven to be distinctly different magics. damnit, so of course it's entirely possible that other part-elves don't exhibit the same profile of proficiencies, and elves are all so used to it they wouldn't notice." he tsks angrily. "psychitheory is such a soft science. goddamn magic fucking everything up."
aaren bursts out in startled laughter. she doesn't think she's ever heard anyone other than that one math professor she'd had call magic a "soft science." lithi looks back over his shoulder at her, bristling.
"what," he demands.
"are you, by chance, a math person?" she asks, snickering.
"yes?" he says. "i'm-- used to be, a physicist. more call for monster-hunting, anymore."
"hah," aaren agrees. there's never been any call for physics, but the few universities in corners of the world insist it's still worth studying, even though it's a science outdated by magic. practically prehistoric. "... are you a vampire?" aaren asks.
"what?" lithi asks. aaren likes the way he keeps saying that. she feels like she's winning every time she catches him off guard like that. "fucking-- no, i'm not a vampire."
"well, we are traveling at night," aaren says reasonably.
"i have somewhere to be," he says.
"there are worse things than ghasts out here," aaren says. like, yeah, she's out here too, but she's like, not really known for making the greatest life decisions.
"well, yes," lithi says, "there's me."
"oh my god," aaren chokes, trying not to laugh again. he said it so seriously. "are you sure you're not a vampire?"
lithi gives her this look again, eyebrows knitted and mouth drawn down, opening and closing like he's rethinking what to say. finally he just turns back around and keeps walking. which is, of course, a total cop-out.
"we'll just have to see when the sun comes up," aaren muses, ostensibly to herself and obviously loud enough for lithi to hear.
"why are you like this," lithi says. "who the hell are you."
"i told you," aaren says. "i'm aaren elisabeth sindra! i might have left out the middle name before, though. i'm reasonably sure you're not a faerie by now."
lithi doesn't rise to this bait.
that's okay. aaren would be bored if this was easy.
||===============================||
there are more monsters, of course. misshapen, six-legged corpseleather crosses between a wolf and a spider, rising out of the swamp slimy with algae and nearly gagging aaren with the stench of them. vast, shadowy tendrils reaching through the brambles and branches for them, too many eyes blinking just out of sight (aaren doesn't know how lithi kills that thing, they're not supposed to be killable, but however he does it makes aaren's head scream and the world warp tight around her until she does actually throw up when it lets go. lithi actually seems a little alarmed about that, like he has no idea that what he just did was batshit whack and also awful). and of course, the usual minor summoned monstrosities with too many tentacles and claws and teeth.
aaren helps mostly to keep herself from getting complacent. she's never seen a hunter take on this many monsters and go in for the kill on each and every one of them. usually it's more about getting just enough to get a bounty and get out alive. aaren herself usually evades and escapes anything remotely likely to kill her. she doesn't have anything to prove, ok. lithi kills like he's got a personal grudge against everything that attacks him.
lithi does make camp, eventually; probably around two in the morning by aaren's reckoning. it's awkward, stilted. he offers her rations, which is sweet, but aaren has her own. probably aaren shouldn't sleep so readily in the middle of the untraversible wilderness, with someone she's just met who may or may not still be trying to ditch her. but she's actually, honestly exhausted, and there's that constant aftertaste of emotions that aren't hers saying that he's probably not going to leave her unprotected. he's either the greatest con man in the world or he's not that subtle, and frankly aaren thinks the latter is the case.
it's another day's travel, and mid-morning on the approach of the third as they emerge from the woods and aaren realizes where they are.
"holy sht, is this the last stop?" aaren says. "i've never come through not on the roads around here. what the fuck, this is how people die, you don't go in the woods by the last stop."
"most people don't," lithi says idly.
"wow," aaren says, even though he hadn't been saying it remotely boastfully. also, to be quite honest, after the last half a week with him, aaren can quite readily admit that he'd probably be within his rights to be a little boastful. it seems to just not occur to him.
"it's faster this way," lithi says.
"no duh, when the roads from where we met go to pittsburgh before you double back around here, but fuck, i didn't realize we were heading this direction, i thought we were more south."
"what's the problem? you're still alive, aren't you?"
"i can never tell my mother about this, she'd somehow never let me leave clan lands again. i'm forty-one and she'd put me on a goddamn child leash and tell me how not to talk to strangers."
"given this evidence, she's probably right," lithi says. he has this mild, butter wouldn't melt in his mouth tone he's started pulling out as he gets used to her that's not exactly mocking but has that effect. aaren's going to copy it, it'll drive eris absolutely around the bend.
"you're a jerk!" aaren says. "that's why i like you, but holy shit, you're the worst. come on, i want food and a roof. holy shit."
it takes her a minute to realize lithi isn't following her. she rounds impatiently on him. flickers of shock and something deeper and weirder lick at her awareness. "what?" she asks.
lithi catches her up, frowning. "you can't like me," he says. "nobody likes me."
"wow," aaren says, with more emphasis this time. "one, do you even hear the emo bullshit that comes out of your mouth? and two, that's because, hey did i mention? you're a jerk! but i don't mind because i'm a huge bitch."
"i don't like you," he says, almost testingly.
"i'm a delight and you love me," aaren says automatically. "but also i'm not here to be liked, so feel whatever you want to, dude." also, she's pretty sure, just from the emotions she's picked up over the past two days, that he at least doesn't actually dislike her. his annoyance feeds aaren's will to live, either way. imagine if she could feel this from everybody, that would be wild.
they actually reach the sprawling inn slash tavern that is the last stop at some past noon. it's moderately busy, as always; a caravan and an airship moored outside, well within the protective warding that keeps the last stop alive when nobody else around here (usually ) can survive.
"lithi!" the proprietor slash barkeep, kaare, exclaims as soon as she notices them. "and who's this? you've been here before but i don't remember your name, sorry," she says to aaren. kaare is more than a head taller than both of them, especially on platform-soled boots, and built big and curvy, with dark hair highlit blonde and wearing an appalling combination of a purple corset and elbow-length burgundy gloves.
"i'm impressed you remember at all, anyway," aaren says. "i'm aaren."
"it's the hair," kaare says. "and the eyes, but mostly the hair! and-- are you actually traveling --with lithi? didn't just come in at the same time?"
"yeah," aaren says, "guy took us through the goddamn woods, can you believe that shit? we camped half a day's walk from here last night, i cannot believe i'm still alive."
"lithi," kaare scolds. "don't take people through the woods out here, what the fuck."
"what's your problem?" lithi snarls at both of them. "oh my god. she's still alive, isn't she?"
"nevermind. i'm impressed you survived lithi, let alone the forest," kaare says. "you staying?"
"the night, at least," lithi says. "do you have two rooms open?"
"two?" kaare says, glancing meaningfully between them.
"you better not be trying to ditch me like this," aaren says, at the same time as lithi grumps, "it's not like that."
"wait, like what-- oohhh, you think i'm sleeping with him?" aaren realizes.
"most people are," kaare says. "i don't judge."
"yeah, no, i don't do that," aaren says. "i get off on making people annoyed and uncomfortable only."
"she's like a tick," lithi grumbles, "i picked her up and now i can't get rid of her. two rooms?"
"yeah, sure," kaare says, "the airship's staying mostly in their own cabins, so there's space."
"next to each other?" aaren says, "so he can't run off without me."
kaare raises her eyebrows. "are you sure you wanna listen to this guy all night?"
"hey," lithi says.
"ohhhh, you want separate rooms for sex!" aaren says. sue her, she keeps forgetting that allosexuals are like this. how do they even find someone else to sleep with them that fast. like, aaren seriously feels like it's some pretty far-fetched expectations that they're both just assuming lithi's gonna seduce someone from the limited pool of available people here in the next six to eight hours immediately. like, aaren's been hanging out with him for the last nearly seventy hours and he might be pretty and surprisingly solid under the slight lines of him in clothing, but he's a holy terror to be around. most girls aren't as twisted as aaren to actually get a kick out of that.
"good luck with that," aaren says seriously.
lithi gives her a look like she's just said something incomprehensible.
aaren snickers to herself all the way to the room whose key kaare handed to her. it's time for a much needed bath and nap.
||===============================||
"holy shit," aaren says later that afternoon, nearing evening. she's still snickering, but now it's for an entirely new reason. see, lithi just slid himself in next to one of the airship crew at the bar, and he's like a completely different person. aaren saw the edges of it after the first fight; she recognizes the knife-grin and something more open, languid, almost predatory, about the body language. the girl, a catfolk half-breed of some persuasion (they only go full furry like that when there's more magic in their background than your bog-standard cat) is halfway on her way to drunk, and she's eyeing lithi like he's a slab of salmon someone just slapped in front of her.
"i can not believe," aaren says.
"mm," kaare's co-proprietor, a tall, thin, quiet being of indeterminate providence agrees. they're ostensibly helping kaare wait tables, but mostly they've been ducking in and out to work on some potioning experiment or another in the kitchen.
"how is he doing that?" aaren asks, not remotely expecting an answer. "it's all, like, an act? can't she tell? he's not actually charming at all?"
"i don't think she cares, hun," the other being (kaare called them "lark," maybe) says. aaren looks up at them, surprised. "you see this shit all the time in here. people just want sex. he's just good at picking the ones who want it nearly as bad as he does. watch, that's why it seems like he's so successful."
also, aaren thinks, remembering a warm, tingling hunger she's never known before, and focusing where's she's gotten used to that extra sense she's never had before-- it helps that he's got a literal sex-aura or whatever. probably most people it just put them a little more in the mood or whatever, but she's still calling that cheating.
"this is like. a play. or a novel. i didn't think this shit happened in real life," aaren says.
"just wait," lark says.
aaren shoots them a look. they shrug. "want a drink?"
"will it be contaminated by whatever's on that spoon you're still holding?" aaren asks. kaare warned her, a courtesy she's assured only goes to patrons she likes.
"oh," lark says. "i suppose it would be. i'll ask kaare."
"thanks," aaren says.
with her stuff up in her room, aaren has nothing to do with her time but people-watch, so she does. the rest of the airship crew are mostly set up at one of the big tables, the officers perhaps? in a corner by themselves, presided over by another part-catfolk all over furred midnight black. the caravan are all as far away from the airship crew as they can get. aaren suspects the airship might be pirates.
her attention is caught once again when the brown cat girl lithi was talking to abruptly leaves her place at the bar, she and lithi both picking their way over to the rest of the crew and settling in next to one guy at the corner. words are exchanged. the catfolk girl sits practically on the guy's lap. lithi leans in over her shoulder. the rest of the table laughs at them or ignores them.
aaren is quite sure this isn't real life when both of them are suddenly trailing lithi up the stairs not ten minutes later. she whirls around to find lark back on the other side of the bar just in time. lark smiles, a grim, unfriendly thing. aaren gestures wildly at the stairs, unable to make sense of it.
"every. time," lark says.
"what the fuck," aaren hisses.
"if you think that's weird, have i got some terrible stories for you. had to pull some people off the roof once."
"oh my god, no, i mean, that's amazing and please tell me more, but you have to realize, i just went on a three-day hike with that man, and i cannot for the life of me understand how he is convincing anyone to get into bed with him. is it a split personality. i cannot believe."
"doesn't matter too much if they're as good with their mouths as that one."
aaren stops cold for a second, turning with deliberate slowness to face lark again. "have you. had sex with lithi," she says, scandalized and, frankly, loving it.
"mostly kaare has," lark says, "but yeah, once or twice."
aaren, for the millionth time in her life, can only marvel. "allosexuals are fucking wild."
word count: 5000
fandom: steampocalypse: a post-apocalyptic fantasy steampunk 'verse
"how am i supposed to tell if i'm feeling someone else's emotions?" aaren used to ask her mother when she was very young.
"you'll be able to tell," her mother said. "it should be obvious."
aaren used to pout about that, because she wasn't expressing magic from birth, the way full-blood elves did, but instead the human way, getting more powerful and sensitive as she got older, and she'd used to feel very slow and sloppy and left out and wrong.
"i don't think i can tell," aaren used to say. "all the emotions i'm feeling feel like mine."
"they might be, then," her mother said, and, still infuriatingly cryptic, "you'd be able to tell."
aaren never got it, because as far as her elven relatives could tell, she wasn't empathic any more than standard null humans usually got, and maybe not particularly by their standards, either. but then, humans were raised with an emphasis on learning to care about the emotions of others; elves are raised not to care too much, because that was the sort of way most of them went mad (either in the end or in the middle, after which they were considered to have learned that lesson "the hard way"). telepathic, yes, but generally to a lesser ambient degree than most full elves, and much better at sendings, generally, than perceptions.
so it's a very, very strange feeling, to learn at age forty, what her mother meant when she said, "you'll know."
aaren isn't angry, or frustrated, or in a very great deal of general rattling emotional pain. she isn't truly feeling it, either, more like... tasting the edges of it, how it would be if she were feeling all that herself. what she is feeling is very interested in finding the source of all that, because either they're having a meltdown so incredibly intense that they've awakened aaren's latent talents as an empath, or they're projecting so strongly that she and all the other non-empaths are feeling it.
which is honestly such an asshole move, considering the general negativity of the emotions involved, that aaren just has to meet this being.
look, aaren has never claimed to be nice. she's been labeled "kind of a bitch, really" by friends and unwilling acquaintances alike. it's by nature and nurture that she honestly kind of likes it that way. like the worst of elvish disconnect and human contrariness all expressed through her own general being.
it's not hard to find the person at the source of the projection. everyone in the tavern had got a little more snappy at once, and there's a new guy settling in at the bar. aaren gathers up her things and her dinner and performs a minor juggling act to slip in next to him before the innkeep or barkeeps even manage to address their new customer. he glares askance at her a little as he shucks his traveling cloak, not even bothering to be subtle about it. aaren grins at him completely unsubtly in return, and indulges in a bit of preening when he seems to double-take more at this than her eyes, which are the usual elven black pits, but unusually clouded with threads of a pale violet color she inherited from her father.
"hey," she says, when he only frowns at her and looks back to the bar. "so, just out of curiosity, you wouldn't happen to know if any of the rest of these guys know they're picking up your emotions? like, can everyone tell or is that just an elf thing? thanks for that, by the way, though, really cool, i've never actually experienced it before."
"what the fuck," is the first thing lithi ever says to her.
"you are aware that you're like, emotionally projecting, right?" aaren asks. he stares at her with big, disconcertingly pale eyes and consternation and growing annoyance prick at her brain. so. cool. also, she has his attention now.
"what," he repeats. this happens to aaren a lot, actually.
"because that's a lot of power to be doing that unconsciously, shit," she says appreciatively. "what even are you?"
"who the fuck are you?" he asks.
"aaren sindra!" aaren introduces herself. "i'm traveling. you?"
"... lithi," he says. "also... traveling." he says it the same way she does, too, where it's an occupation rather than a current event with a destination.
"so if you don't mind me asking,"
"i do," lithi says, and aaren ignores this.
"what's got you where you need to go sharing your emotions with the entire building?"
"i am not!" lithi growls, but the dismay flavoring the miasma overlaying aaren's feelings belies that. is this what full elves are experiencing all the time? wild. also, probably exhausting. but aaren's waited so long to not feel broken that she can't help but enjoy it, even if that's probably a little sadistic of her in this case.
"dude," aaren tries for mild and unjudgemental, and probably misses by more than a bit. "the whole bar got riled up the minute you walked in. there are like, three fights happening right now that were not remotely close to starting before that."
lithi looks around, mutinous, eyes catching on the couples and one group now sniping at each other. he takes a deep breath and his hands clench tight on the bar, then slowly exhales and suddenly aaren can feel him-- less. like the sun going behind a cloud. aaren deeply wants to know who this guy even is. what is he? elves and fairies are known for various levels of psychic tendencies, but humans can be stunningly powerful as well, though it's rare for them instead of standard. this guy doesn't really seem like any of those. how old is he? he's gotta be human to look as old as he does and still not have a grip on those powers. maybe aaren's age, maybe less?
"y'wanna, you know, talk about it?" aaren asks. lithi glares at her sidelong and very deliberately turns back to signal the bartender, who has been carefully hovering outside the fallout range of their conversation. aaren only pouts a little bit. she'll figure him out. she's got time.
"what are you doing?" lithi asks as aaren packs up her stuff and follows him out the door. he's got a bulky pack that he doesn't look like he should be able to carry, but then, aaren supposes that's the pot calling the kettle, because once they're standing she realizes he's almost exactly the same height and size as her-- which is to say, he's fucking tiny, and aaren is definitely stronger than people think she looks.
"following you," aaren tells him, and is treated once more to his expression of flat incredulity.
"you are not," he says, his voice (so far a soft, rough, high tenor) dropping suddenly to a whole register lower, with dangerous harmonics registering at wavelengths aaren thinks humans don't hear.
"i mean, i could have tried to do it sneakily, but i figured you wouldn't like that," aaren says.
"i don't like this, either," he hisses. "i don't like you."
"i don't think you like anyone, though," aaren says. lithi physically recoils from her, going all stiff and frozen and staring with eyes like chips of glacier ice. for a long moment, there's a sense of rising, oppressive menace. then lithi looks away, hissing a little to himself, like an affronted cat.
"fucking elves," he grumbles. "fine, do what you want."
"thanks, i will!" aaren chirps. seriously, what is this guy.
he heads in the direction straight out of town, off the road and its dubious safety and straight into the woods, which are near certain danger. aaren wonders if that's his modus operandi or if he's trying to get rid of her. if it's the latter, he's likely to be disappointed. he doesn't set a pace like that's the case, though, just slipping through the forest like it's the road, heedless of the growing dark.
the town must have a pretty decent border patrol, because it's nearly an hour before they're attacked. a lone ghast swoops out of the treetops, stooping for them like a hawk after a mouse. lithi twists a dark-metal machete style blade from the sheaths at his hip and slashes its bone-and-gristle wing clean off while aaren is still rolling clear of its strafe. it crashes messily into the ground with a cry like breaking glass and a spray of gritty, grey-brown blood, smoking where it hits the trees and ground. lithi does-- something, a frustrated vicious motion of hands and arms that warps the entire ghast apart. aaren's never felt anything like it.
the rest of the flock rises, screaming, above the trees around them, and then aaren is too busy trying to stay alive to worry too much about it. she has a protective charm and more than several fire-spell grenades, which usually she would use to get the hell out of dodge. she gets halfway there, one enterprising ghast going up in foul-smelling smoke, and another and another and another just barely missing her as she dodges claws, grisly wings, and grasping tree branches trying to tangle in her hair. and then she realizes lithi is not following her.
the first thing aaren thinks, what she will remember later, is that she had thought that this guy at least had more interesting flaws than suicidal levels of machismo. like, she hates to sound conceited (that is a lie) but aaren is a hot piece of ass and she knows it. she's just entirely uninterested in the kind of harvest this could reap her, which makes it even more sad that this would not be the first boy to throw his life away trying to impress her.
at the end of it, though, lithi is standing in the epicenter of more than half a flock of ghasts, even more gruesome and foul in their slashed, twisted, blasted deaths than they were in life. he has two blades unsheathed, panting lightly, eyes red-red-red where before they had been a pink or purple too pale to discern and glowing like a demon's, sharp and too-many-toothed grin a tad too manic and savage.
so at least aaren gets the pleasure of being right about him having interesting problems.
"seriously, what are you?" she asks, unable to stop herself anymore, over the high, raucous screeching of the remaining ghasts retreating into the distance.
lithi looks around at her, mouth twisting back down into a frown and eyes slowly fading back to rose-water ice. he frowns down at his blades and clothes, sacrifices a clean edge of his tunic to start wiping the weapons down before the ghast blood can damage them.
"i'm human," he says, and aaren calls,
"bullshit," at the same time he follows up a beat later with,
"originally. mostly."
which. "what? what the hell does that mean?" aaren asks avidly.
lithi just shrugs.
"i am going to be stunned if you last a week before i strangle you," aaren says.
"you're the one who invited yourself along," lithi snaps, mincing his way out of the ghast-corpse pile and dragging off his tunic. it's probably ruined; the undershirt beneath is also discolored and burned where blood soaked through to it. lithi rummages through his pack and comes back with a new shirt, a worn and wrinkled linen drop-sleeve that he re-sashes with his belt. he wraps the contaminated clothes in what must be a treated cloth, judging by how he then blithely adds it back in with all his other things. aaren, by dint of not being stupid (or bloodthirsty) enough to use physical force on a monster whose blood is another weapone, is only tangled and mussed.
"also," lithi says, long after aaren has accepted that yeah, that's fair, she did decide this herself, "it's only fair that i get to return the infuriating favor."
a feeling aaren is entirely unfamiliar with, a sort of warm, pulsing hunger, licks up the base of her brain, and aaren knows her confusion is showing as she cocks her head at him and tries to make sense of his new expression: a knife-grin and sidelong glance. he lets the moment hang while he hefts his pack easily over one shoulder and stands to look straight at her, but it's not until he blatantly telegraphs his traveling glance down her body that aaren realizes what it is he's projecting.
"huh," she says, turning the feeling over. "are you flirting with me? is this, like, attraction? how is that even an emotion? allosexuals are fucking wild."
"what," lithi says, startling a little, more like he hadn't realized what he was doing than like he was mad it was derailed. "fuck. uh, i guess. most elves don't call people out on this shit, you know."
"i've never been polite once in my life," aaren says flippantly, while she considers. she wants to know what the fuck is going on with this guy, and the best way to encourage sharing is to have a little transparency yourself. "and, like i think i said before, i've never actually felt this before. i'm only half elf. the empathy never turned on. i'm only getting stuff now because you're some kind of unconscious telepathic broadcaster of like, unprecedented power, it's kind of crazy."
"that-- nobody has-- well, fuck," lithi grumble-hisses, more to himself than to aaren. he glares down at the ground, then at her. "let's go," he says, and heads immediately off into the brush.
aaren pursues, of course. she makes a note to herself to get her hair a little more contained tomorrow than the loose braid it's in today, which leaves the length of it thumping the backs of her thighs every time it yanks loose of another plant.
it's more than half an hour later, half an hour of silence while lithi's consternation and other, fleeting emotions flash over aaren's mental palate.
"how much do you know about psychitheory?" he asks.
"a fair amount," aaren says gamely. she's never been sensitive to things like long, awkward silences, and obviously this guy is working entirely on his own timeline. "i've always been interested, didn't know why i wasn't like all the rest of the kids growing up, you know?"
"... so it's entirely possible, then, current science has it that elves and other 'telepaths' have lower resistance naturally to psychic powers."
"that's why we're thought to need shields, yes," aaren says. "it was thought to be the other way around for a long time because conscious shields are usually much stronger than natural resistance alone."
"i thought so. i've always been figuring it the old way, the new theory is so recent," lithi growls.
the "new" theory, while only gaining research and acceptance since aaren was a kid, still nearly thirty years ago, has been around for nearly a century. aaren frowns, eying lithi's back as they skirt ground that is becoming suspiciously marshy. she is suddenly reasonably certain that she has greatly misestimated lithi's age.
"and telepathy and empathy, while often comorbid, are proven to be distinctly different magics. damnit, so of course it's entirely possible that other part-elves don't exhibit the same profile of proficiencies, and elves are all so used to it they wouldn't notice." he tsks angrily. "psychitheory is such a soft science. goddamn magic fucking everything up."
aaren bursts out in startled laughter. she doesn't think she's ever heard anyone other than that one math professor she'd had call magic a "soft science." lithi looks back over his shoulder at her, bristling.
"what," he demands.
"are you, by chance, a math person?" she asks, snickering.
"yes?" he says. "i'm-- used to be, a physicist. more call for monster-hunting, anymore."
"hah," aaren agrees. there's never been any call for physics, but the few universities in corners of the world insist it's still worth studying, even though it's a science outdated by magic. practically prehistoric. "... are you a vampire?" aaren asks.
"what?" lithi asks. aaren likes the way he keeps saying that. she feels like she's winning every time she catches him off guard like that. "fucking-- no, i'm not a vampire."
"well, we are traveling at night," aaren says reasonably.
"i have somewhere to be," he says.
"there are worse things than ghasts out here," aaren says. like, yeah, she's out here too, but she's like, not really known for making the greatest life decisions.
"well, yes," lithi says, "there's me."
"oh my god," aaren chokes, trying not to laugh again. he said it so seriously. "are you sure you're not a vampire?"
lithi gives her this look again, eyebrows knitted and mouth drawn down, opening and closing like he's rethinking what to say. finally he just turns back around and keeps walking. which is, of course, a total cop-out.
"we'll just have to see when the sun comes up," aaren muses, ostensibly to herself and obviously loud enough for lithi to hear.
"why are you like this," lithi says. "who the hell are you."
"i told you," aaren says. "i'm aaren elisabeth sindra! i might have left out the middle name before, though. i'm reasonably sure you're not a faerie by now."
lithi doesn't rise to this bait.
that's okay. aaren would be bored if this was easy.
there are more monsters, of course. misshapen, six-legged corpseleather crosses between a wolf and a spider, rising out of the swamp slimy with algae and nearly gagging aaren with the stench of them. vast, shadowy tendrils reaching through the brambles and branches for them, too many eyes blinking just out of sight (aaren doesn't know how lithi kills that thing, they're not supposed to be killable, but however he does it makes aaren's head scream and the world warp tight around her until she does actually throw up when it lets go. lithi actually seems a little alarmed about that, like he has no idea that what he just did was batshit whack and also awful). and of course, the usual minor summoned monstrosities with too many tentacles and claws and teeth.
aaren helps mostly to keep herself from getting complacent. she's never seen a hunter take on this many monsters and go in for the kill on each and every one of them. usually it's more about getting just enough to get a bounty and get out alive. aaren herself usually evades and escapes anything remotely likely to kill her. she doesn't have anything to prove, ok. lithi kills like he's got a personal grudge against everything that attacks him.
lithi does make camp, eventually; probably around two in the morning by aaren's reckoning. it's awkward, stilted. he offers her rations, which is sweet, but aaren has her own. probably aaren shouldn't sleep so readily in the middle of the untraversible wilderness, with someone she's just met who may or may not still be trying to ditch her. but she's actually, honestly exhausted, and there's that constant aftertaste of emotions that aren't hers saying that he's probably not going to leave her unprotected. he's either the greatest con man in the world or he's not that subtle, and frankly aaren thinks the latter is the case.
it's another day's travel, and mid-morning on the approach of the third as they emerge from the woods and aaren realizes where they are.
"holy sht, is this the last stop?" aaren says. "i've never come through not on the roads around here. what the fuck, this is how people die, you don't go in the woods by the last stop."
"most people don't," lithi says idly.
"wow," aaren says, even though he hadn't been saying it remotely boastfully. also, to be quite honest, after the last half a week with him, aaren can quite readily admit that he'd probably be within his rights to be a little boastful. it seems to just not occur to him.
"it's faster this way," lithi says.
"no duh, when the roads from where we met go to pittsburgh before you double back around here, but fuck, i didn't realize we were heading this direction, i thought we were more south."
"what's the problem? you're still alive, aren't you?"
"i can never tell my mother about this, she'd somehow never let me leave clan lands again. i'm forty-one and she'd put me on a goddamn child leash and tell me how not to talk to strangers."
"given this evidence, she's probably right," lithi says. he has this mild, butter wouldn't melt in his mouth tone he's started pulling out as he gets used to her that's not exactly mocking but has that effect. aaren's going to copy it, it'll drive eris absolutely around the bend.
"you're a jerk!" aaren says. "that's why i like you, but holy shit, you're the worst. come on, i want food and a roof. holy shit."
it takes her a minute to realize lithi isn't following her. she rounds impatiently on him. flickers of shock and something deeper and weirder lick at her awareness. "what?" she asks.
lithi catches her up, frowning. "you can't like me," he says. "nobody likes me."
"wow," aaren says, with more emphasis this time. "one, do you even hear the emo bullshit that comes out of your mouth? and two, that's because, hey did i mention? you're a jerk! but i don't mind because i'm a huge bitch."
"i don't like you," he says, almost testingly.
"i'm a delight and you love me," aaren says automatically. "but also i'm not here to be liked, so feel whatever you want to, dude." also, she's pretty sure, just from the emotions she's picked up over the past two days, that he at least doesn't actually dislike her. his annoyance feeds aaren's will to live, either way. imagine if she could feel this from everybody, that would be wild.
they actually reach the sprawling inn slash tavern that is the last stop at some past noon. it's moderately busy, as always; a caravan and an airship moored outside, well within the protective warding that keeps the last stop alive when nobody else around here (usually ) can survive.
"lithi!" the proprietor slash barkeep, kaare, exclaims as soon as she notices them. "and who's this? you've been here before but i don't remember your name, sorry," she says to aaren. kaare is more than a head taller than both of them, especially on platform-soled boots, and built big and curvy, with dark hair highlit blonde and wearing an appalling combination of a purple corset and elbow-length burgundy gloves.
"i'm impressed you remember at all, anyway," aaren says. "i'm aaren."
"it's the hair," kaare says. "and the eyes, but mostly the hair! and-- are you actually traveling --with lithi? didn't just come in at the same time?"
"yeah," aaren says, "guy took us through the goddamn woods, can you believe that shit? we camped half a day's walk from here last night, i cannot believe i'm still alive."
"lithi," kaare scolds. "don't take people through the woods out here, what the fuck."
"what's your problem?" lithi snarls at both of them. "oh my god. she's still alive, isn't she?"
"nevermind. i'm impressed you survived lithi, let alone the forest," kaare says. "you staying?"
"the night, at least," lithi says. "do you have two rooms open?"
"two?" kaare says, glancing meaningfully between them.
"you better not be trying to ditch me like this," aaren says, at the same time as lithi grumps, "it's not like that."
"wait, like what-- oohhh, you think i'm sleeping with him?" aaren realizes.
"most people are," kaare says. "i don't judge."
"yeah, no, i don't do that," aaren says. "i get off on making people annoyed and uncomfortable only."
"she's like a tick," lithi grumbles, "i picked her up and now i can't get rid of her. two rooms?"
"yeah, sure," kaare says, "the airship's staying mostly in their own cabins, so there's space."
"next to each other?" aaren says, "so he can't run off without me."
kaare raises her eyebrows. "are you sure you wanna listen to this guy all night?"
"hey," lithi says.
"ohhhh, you want separate rooms for sex!" aaren says. sue her, she keeps forgetting that allosexuals are like this. how do they even find someone else to sleep with them that fast. like, aaren seriously feels like it's some pretty far-fetched expectations that they're both just assuming lithi's gonna seduce someone from the limited pool of available people here in the next six to eight hours immediately. like, aaren's been hanging out with him for the last nearly seventy hours and he might be pretty and surprisingly solid under the slight lines of him in clothing, but he's a holy terror to be around. most girls aren't as twisted as aaren to actually get a kick out of that.
"good luck with that," aaren says seriously.
lithi gives her a look like she's just said something incomprehensible.
aaren snickers to herself all the way to the room whose key kaare handed to her. it's time for a much needed bath and nap.
"holy shit," aaren says later that afternoon, nearing evening. she's still snickering, but now it's for an entirely new reason. see, lithi just slid himself in next to one of the airship crew at the bar, and he's like a completely different person. aaren saw the edges of it after the first fight; she recognizes the knife-grin and something more open, languid, almost predatory, about the body language. the girl, a catfolk half-breed of some persuasion (they only go full furry like that when there's more magic in their background than your bog-standard cat) is halfway on her way to drunk, and she's eyeing lithi like he's a slab of salmon someone just slapped in front of her.
"i can not believe," aaren says.
"mm," kaare's co-proprietor, a tall, thin, quiet being of indeterminate providence agrees. they're ostensibly helping kaare wait tables, but mostly they've been ducking in and out to work on some potioning experiment or another in the kitchen.
"how is he doing that?" aaren asks, not remotely expecting an answer. "it's all, like, an act? can't she tell? he's not actually charming at all?"
"i don't think she cares, hun," the other being (kaare called them "lark," maybe) says. aaren looks up at them, surprised. "you see this shit all the time in here. people just want sex. he's just good at picking the ones who want it nearly as bad as he does. watch, that's why it seems like he's so successful."
also, aaren thinks, remembering a warm, tingling hunger she's never known before, and focusing where's she's gotten used to that extra sense she's never had before-- it helps that he's got a literal sex-aura or whatever. probably most people it just put them a little more in the mood or whatever, but she's still calling that cheating.
"this is like. a play. or a novel. i didn't think this shit happened in real life," aaren says.
"just wait," lark says.
aaren shoots them a look. they shrug. "want a drink?"
"will it be contaminated by whatever's on that spoon you're still holding?" aaren asks. kaare warned her, a courtesy she's assured only goes to patrons she likes.
"oh," lark says. "i suppose it would be. i'll ask kaare."
"thanks," aaren says.
with her stuff up in her room, aaren has nothing to do with her time but people-watch, so she does. the rest of the airship crew are mostly set up at one of the big tables, the officers perhaps? in a corner by themselves, presided over by another part-catfolk all over furred midnight black. the caravan are all as far away from the airship crew as they can get. aaren suspects the airship might be pirates.
her attention is caught once again when the brown cat girl lithi was talking to abruptly leaves her place at the bar, she and lithi both picking their way over to the rest of the crew and settling in next to one guy at the corner. words are exchanged. the catfolk girl sits practically on the guy's lap. lithi leans in over her shoulder. the rest of the table laughs at them or ignores them.
aaren is quite sure this isn't real life when both of them are suddenly trailing lithi up the stairs not ten minutes later. she whirls around to find lark back on the other side of the bar just in time. lark smiles, a grim, unfriendly thing. aaren gestures wildly at the stairs, unable to make sense of it.
"every. time," lark says.
"what the fuck," aaren hisses.
"if you think that's weird, have i got some terrible stories for you. had to pull some people off the roof once."
"oh my god, no, i mean, that's amazing and please tell me more, but you have to realize, i just went on a three-day hike with that man, and i cannot for the life of me understand how he is convincing anyone to get into bed with him. is it a split personality. i cannot believe."
"doesn't matter too much if they're as good with their mouths as that one."
aaren stops cold for a second, turning with deliberate slowness to face lark again. "have you. had sex with lithi," she says, scandalized and, frankly, loving it.
"mostly kaare has," lark says, "but yeah, once or twice."
aaren, for the millionth time in her life, can only marvel. "allosexuals are fucking wild."
