birthrightgreen: (Occasionally five)
[personal profile] birthrightgreen
After this.

DAEMON: *goes looking for Graysfang*
GRAYSFANG: *is happily chewing on leather strap*
DAEMON: *pets the wolf*
GRAYSFANG: *wags his tail* *Daemon!*
DAEMON: *Little Brother*
GRAYSFANG: *Surreal went shopping*
DAEMON: *So I hear. I think she's besotted.*
GRAYSFANG: *tilts his head* *Besotted?*
DAEMON: *makes an impatient gesture* *She is infatuated with him.*
GRAYSFANG: *slight growl*
DAEMON: *growls as well*
GRAYSFANG: *Why do you think she's infatuated?*
DAEMON: *dryly* *I think she went a bit overboard on gifts, don't you?*
GRAYSFANG: *What do you normally get for gifts?*
DAEMON: *it's not a what, it's a how much. I think a book or two would have sufficed. or maybe a nice bottle of wine.*
GRAYSFANG: *Oh.* *frowns, if wolves frown*
DAEMON: *growls again*
GRAYSFANG: *what should we do?*
DAEMON: *moodily* *There's nothing we can do. It's her choice.*
GRAYSFANG: *Is he...besotted, too?*
DAEMON: *snarls* *Unlikely.*
GRAYSFANG: *snarls, too* *He should be*
DAEMON: *Of course he should be.*
GRAYSFANG: *slight whimper* *Falonar was not besotted*
DAEMON: *No. Although I do have questions about his sanity.*
GRAYSFANG: *quietly, a bit nervously, like he's not supposed to tell* *She hurt. Cried*
DAEMON: *snarls again, wondering if it's too late to go looking for the prick*
GRAYSFANG: *I don't want her to cry again*
DAEMON: *neither do I, Little Brother. Neither do I.*
GRAYSFANG: *She wasn't...besotted with Falonar*
DAEMON: *No?*
GRAYSFANG: *No. But she still cried*
DAEMON: *looks around for something to break*
GRAYSFANG: *watches him, slightly wary at the waves of anger*
DAEMON: *glares at a vase, it explodes. Then another.* *He'd better not hurt her.*
GRAYSFANG: *jumps a little, thinking humans are far more violent than Kindred* *He's strong, Daemon. No Jewels. But. Power. Scary.*
DAEMON: *turns to look at the wolf, eyes glinting* *And?*
GRAYSFANG: *What if he...What is he?*
DAEMON: *growls, knowing he won't be able to explain it to the wolf* *He is me. I am him. Bah.*
GRAYSFANG: *tilts his head* *You are him?* *patiently* *You're not him. Surreal is not besotted with you*
DAEMON: *sighs* *You know the Alpha wolf of your pack?*
GRAYSFANG: *Yes!*
DAEMON: *nods* *And if something happens to the
DAEMON: *to the Alpha of your pack, there will be another Alpha, correct?*
GRAYSFANG: *Yes. A new Alpha will take control*
DAEMON: *Yes. So there is always an Alpha, an idea of an Alpha. Do you understand?*
GRAYSFANG: *slightly uncertain* *An idea of an Alpha....yes*
DAEMON: *He is the idea of a Black-Jeweled Warlord Prince.*
GRAYSFANG: *doubtfully* *He seemed to be more than an idea, Daemon. I don't think Surreal was mating with an idea*
DAEMON: *yes, he is more. in his Realm, the Idea of something... For instance, the Idea of an Alpha, takes on a life of its own. You might say he's the Idea of an Alpha, the very essence of an Alpha, come to life.*
DAEMON: *Not the current Alpha, not the future Alpha, but everything that makes up an Alpha, living and breathing.*
GRAYSFANG: *confused yelp, trying to work through it* *So he is like you. And the High Lord. And himself too?*
DAEMON: *pleased* *Yes. exactly.*
GRAYSFANG: *little frustrated growl* *Does that mean he is Blood?*
DAEMON: *In a way, it does. In a way, it means he is an Alpha wolf. Or a unicorn Stallion.*

[Daemon!mun: ((*snorts* now there's imagery...))
Surreal!mun: ((*giggles* *refrains from commenting on his horn*))
Daemon!mun: ((*dies dead*))]


GRAYSFANG: *Then we can't argue to her that he's not Blood?*
DAEMON: *grumbles* *Unlikely. If Jaenelle did not have her Jewels, would she still be Blood to you?*
GRAYSFANG: *Of course! She is Witch*
DAEMON: *slight smile* *She is who she is, regardless. As is he.*
GRAYSFANG: *disgruntled* *Oh.*
DAEMON: *grumbles some more*
GRAYSFANG: *Are you sure she's besotted?*
DAEMON: *moodily* *She certainly acts it.*
GRAYSFANG: *Because of the gifts?*
DAEMON: *just as disgruntled as the wolf was a minute ago* *Because she's acting all girlish.*
GRAYSFANG: *head tilt* *Girlish?*
DAEMON: *eyes the wolf* *I think we'd best leave that for another day.*
GRAYSFANG: *little whine*
DAEMON: *gentle pat* *Let's not complicate things now, Little Brother.*
GRAYSFANG: *Falonar did not wear darker Jewels than she did*
DAEMON: *blinks* *No, he didn't. So?*
DAEMON: *chuckles* Ahh.
GRAYSFANG: *stares at him*
DAEMON: *You're right. Falonar... not so much intimidated by her as wanted someone he could protect. What he didn't realize was that she had something he could protect, after all.*
GRAYSFANG: *She did?*
DAEMON: *chuckles* *Her heart, silly wolfling.*
GRAYSFANG: *Oh. This one is stronger than her, though*
DAEMON: *dryly* *And hopefully smarter than Falonar.*
GRAYSFANG: *Or you will try to hurt him?*
DAEMON: *cold little smile* *That depends on whether she can get me to promise not to before I get to him.*
GRAYSFANG: *She doesn't like fussing*
DAEMON: *blandly* *You noticed that?*
GRAYSFANG: *She snarls*
DAEMON: *she does.*
GRAYSFANG: *She didn't want Falonar hurt. She worried*

[Surreal!mun: ((Surreal: "I'm so never telling that little tale teller anything ever again."))]

DAEMON: *And I didn't hurt him, did I?*
GRAYSFANG: *No...*
DAEMON: *scowls* *I wonder who she'd worry about more were I to have a talk with him.*
GRAYSFANG: *little wag of his tail* *You're family.*
DAEMON: *long look*
GRAYSFANG: *something seems to nudge at his brain* *If he is the idea of you and the High Lord, does that mean Surreal is besotted with you or the High Lord?*

[Surreal!mun: ((Surreal: *stares, appalled and horrified at the idea*))]

DAEMON: *stares at the wolf* *Let's go to the kitchen, Little Brother. You look hungry.*
GRAYSFANG: *bounces up eagerly*
DAEMON: *mumbling*
GRAYSFANG: *What?*
DAEMON: *Nothing at all. Steak? We can probably find you one. Raw, even.*
GRAYSFANG: *Steak?!*
DAEMON: *Sure. Or perhaps rabbit?*
[Surreal!mun: ((Surreal is no seriously going to kill him…don't ask which him))]
GRAYSFANG: *almost dancing* *Rabbit?*
DAEMON: *perhaps both. Let's see what we can find.*
GRAYSFANG: *all right*

OOC commentary afterward:
Daemon!mun: *snickering madly*
Surreal!mun: *snorts* Surreal: I am not besotted with anyone.
Daemon!mun: poor surreal.
Daemon!mun: *giggling madly*
Surreal!mun: She's horrified.
Surreal!mun: She's like "Daemon? I'm not besotted. Not with him. Not with you. Not with your father. Going to hurt the wolf."
Daemon!mun: I'd pet her if I thought she wouldn't rip my hand off.

Re: OOC

Date: 2005-07-19 09:28 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] birthrightgreen.livejournal.com
*snorts*

Why are you not in bed?

Or is it, why am I still up? Besides the horrified muse in my head who's wondering if wolves make good stew.

...And if Black Jeweled Warlord Princes can be ingredients.

You have to admit that was a fairly good explanation of Sam to a wolf...y

Re: OOC

Date: 2005-07-19 01:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] oldestbeloved.livejournal.com
Hah. Woke up to get a glass of water, checked comments.

*laughs* Sam and Daemon may talk after all. This... ugh. Let's see if I can get him out of it.

Re: OOC

Date: 2005-07-19 03:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] birthrightgreen.livejournal.com
...Even I don't check comments while getting water. ;)

*shrugs*

Maybe, maybe not? Easy way out of it is for Surreal to tell him to back off. He'd listen. Grouchily, but he'd probably listen. After all, all he's done so far is send the note.

*g* Which someone points out came with wine, and really certain lectures come better with gifts and blood would have been appreciated. *eyes him, gags him again*

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