[Enabled to be bad once again. In perpetuity? Charlie's delighted.]
Maybe when you finish up that flower you can send me another drawing, eh? [Of a horse dick???]
[Please imagine the most conspiratorial giddiness on Charlie's face as Kiritsubo marks this discussion as an 'accident.'] I think its your new friend who's the worried one. Not jealous... [Disappointing.] Just overprotective. It's cute, so I can't help but run my mouth a little, you know?
Ah. Yeah. I forgot. I don't really imagine you all... I don't think of you as man. Do you want me to, when you're shaped like one? [Trips into gender affirmation, just being nosy.]
Me?? I've never offered anyone something they haven't thought of before themselves! [So, yes, incredibly corruptive-
Hello... ? Is this the Four of Spades' residence? I'm calling to notify the man of the house that he's won an exclusive saucy bedtime story... Does he happen to be in?
[A call he answers immediately - seeing who it is from.
She's just spared some sorry fuck he was negging over the network.]
Aah, this sounds too good to be free. What's the catch? [Charlie settles in his seat with his arm propped up, watch near his lips. He's leaned his head against the wall, an affectionate little nuzzle to the infrastructure, meant for her.]
[A true bodhisattva of compassion, saving others, that's Kiritsubo. Who happens to be lounging in a bed that isn't hers, opium pipe to her lips in between her words.]
Catch? There's no catch, this is a free sweepstakes~
[Her fingers twirl little patterns on the sheets, meant for him.]
The Buddha teaches us to be as charitable and free with our talents as the most generous and desired of courtesans.
Oh he does? [Charlie only vaguely recognizes the name 'Buddha:' a religious figure. His own relationship with religion is a distant memory. Standing on the steps of the neighborhood church, he threw tiny stones at other kids while the rest of his family sat for the sermon.
He wouldn't shut up, so he had to wait outside.] Not much of a businessman, is he? I'm gonna take advantage of that- [A promise, purred as well as his sharp voice can manage. A seduction.
He looks up, then tilts his head towards his bed. As if she'd be somehow in it.]
[If she were not decidedly in the canid family, the sound she makes could be described as a purr.]
To think, I devote part of myself so freely to a man who would swindle the Buddha himself…
[She doesn’t sound too upset about it. The sigh is almost a far lewder sound.]
Are you settled in for your story, dear sir?
Because we begin some five hundred years past, at the end of the Onin War, when blood fought blood and burned much of the great capital of Kyoto in crude flames that know only how to consume and not how to differentiate the property of friend or foe.
In this decade of struggle over the succession of the Ashikaga shogunate, a samurai warrior named Umezu no Kamon Kageharu loses his life. Fearing for theirs without their only protector, his wife and two young daughters flee into the flame-lit night…
But what do you think found them, all alone in the dark of the rocky pass through Mt. Nyoigatake?
[If swindling a religious figure is criminal, so too is the way Kiritsubo coos when she speaks of him - as if she'd seduce him herself. Charlie doesn't need to know any of the intricacies of this faith to understand that they're both being playfully sacrilegious.
He looks from the bed to his shoes, smile resting contentedly across his lips. One, then two, he kicks them off. Settled in, indeed.
Although each story beat itself is simple, the words Kiritsubo weaves flow smoothly. An art Charlie can't properly appreciate, the kind that disappears behind the intrigue it creates. He has a narrow scope of interest, foreign names should be nothing but wisps in his ear.
But he answers her question immediately.] Nothin' good. They're gonna freeze. Unless the Buddha comes to save them, eh? [Seems he remembers the very basic framework of Christianity from his rock slinging days, at least.]
[It would be entirely fair to wonder… why is she bothering to put that much detail into this story? They know they aren’t from the same world or time… it’s not like she could expect him to be familiar with her lands or customs or language. And yet…
Was this simply how the tale was told, or was she far more intimately familiar with a five hundred year old “legend” than one might guess?]
No, no, let’s not be hasty.
[She laughs just a little, as if this was a laughing matter.]
What awaited them in the rocks was not the welcome warmth of the temple they were fleeing towards, nor the cold embrace of freezing winds…
It was ruffians, bandits on the trail who had once been men of honor on the battlefield. Perhaps they even served with the widow’s late husband, once…
But honor was no longer a pillar in their hearts, and the paltry gold on her person was not enough to pay their self-imposed crossing tax… or convince them not to help themselves to what else she possessed instead.
She ran… But she did not get far.
[It’s obfuscated, because this sort of tale often dressed such things up… But Kiritsubo doesn’t think Charlie needs clarification on what happens to women set upon by “wolves” in the night.]
Which leaves us, of course, with her two little girls. Beauties, it is said… enough so that even brutes covered in their mother’s blood could be convinced not to lay hands so that they might be filled with more coin instead.
[The man she spoke to had made a point to tell her he did not usually peddle in flesh…
[As Kiritsubo's voice continues to purr in his ear, Charlie lets his head lull back. The tacky disco ball he's hung in his room spins slowly, how little it does to liven up the space always an amusing little joke to him. His smile shifts, toying on his lips before he shuts his eyes.
This is a terrible bedtime story.
Charlie does not peddle flesh, but he has partaken. Once. It wasn't a particularly terrible exchange; he'd simply been more interested in kissing and talking than the woman getting on her knees to show a much younger man a 'good first time.'
A gift for him offered by older men in his syndicate.
Charlie is well aware of what happens when men have a monopoly on violence. He considers this part of the story silently, not for any remorse but acceptance. This is how the world has always worked. Five hundred years ago or now.]
So they grew up and got sold around. One of 'em get tired of it make a bloody scene? [This is the story of The Hell Courtesan,' after all...]
[Thank goodness she isn’t trying to send him to slumber. A good bedtime story this is not.]
As fun as that would make the tale in an entirely different way… No, our darling courtesan took the name of her own volition.
The childhood name her mother gave her was Otoboshi. “The witty little star”.
[Thankfully, she had introduced him to the concept already of characters in names meaning something, with her paulownia.]
And perhaps that wit saved her. The bandits passed the girls to a woman who specialized in selling young flesh to the nation’s brothels, and though the elder sister was lost to the trade and eventually met a fate most unremarkable for a prostitute, Otoboshi was sold to a fine institution of high repute in the pleasure district of Sakai, a flourishing port town. From a young age she was taught the ways of service and temptation, and, having proven herself a good study and a potential beauty, she was taught fine arts and literature, fashion and poetry, and all manner of skills that might delight a discerning man. After her maidenhood was auctioned she climbed the ranks of the district in popularity, and soon enough she became a top-class courtesan who sailors, merchants, and samurai all competed to buy for the night.
And yet… What a pitiable fate! What joy or satisfaction could be gleaned from clawing to the top if what you climb is a pile of rubbish and greed and clumsy lust? Otoboshi cursed the turn in fortune that had turned her from the proud daughter of an honorable warrior to a glittering jewel that could be bought each night, and she abandoned her name to instead be called Hell, so that each man who asked for her time or cried out her name would be reminded of what awaited him for his sins, and she devoted herself in her own time to praying that the sins of her past life that must have earned her rebirth into her current misfortune would somehow be cleansed. That she might die and earn safe passage to the Pure Land.
[There’s a pause, finally, a thoughtful hum, and then-]
Now, around this time… there was a very curious monk named Ikkyu who happened to frequent Sakai.
[Names with meanings are a charming concept. Whether they describe a person or define them in contrast, Charlie is growing to appreciate the added dimension of a first impression. A witty little star... that's a cute name, and he supposes a prostitute would need wits in spades to inspire the legend now being crooned into his ear.
There's a particular focus on good company that the courtesan Kiritsubo describes has. A more overt desire for companionship - there's nothing to love about this story, but Charlie's smile softens with the realization. In his city, men will pay women for their time without fucking them, but such an act is kept secret in shame.
And shame, too, is more overt in this tale. Charlie rolls his head against the back of his seat from side to side slowly, chuckling at the clever twist of the woman's name. There's little real power to be had in her position, but she wrested control where she could with the grimmest of humor.]
Aah...? Monks? Like priests? [To answer: he knows almost nothing about monks. Charlie's eyebrows raise, eyes still lidded, as he strains to remember if he's ever met a monk.]
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I bought him a drink or three, is how. Maybe saying he 'likes' alcohol was an understatement.
[He didn't get the joke, but he found the commentary amusing regardless - Charlie's always happy to make his own fun.]
An Alicorn.. you fucked Ali? Oh, good, he'll love that! [No, he won't.] I'm sure he'll make a cute face if you tell him.
Looks like he already messaged you, but I'll send the next guy I get over to a bar for you.
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[But hmm,]
An alicorn is a unicorn with wings. They fly, it's a whole thing. Who's Ali, hmm? A partner into sharing as much as you are? Or not into sharing?
Bars, messages... I'm flexible.
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[This is said, of course, without any actual complain. He likes being accused of petty misdeeds.]
You met a guy like that here?
Ali, yeah, that's his partner's name. I was told never to speak to or about him. [He has done both!]
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[What's a little petty accusation as foreplay between friends?]
It was my own world. And his "normal" was normal for a unicorn, even when he had two legs. Sorry~ I'd show you if it were here.
Oh, and look... Here we are speaking of him. An accident, I'm sure. Jealous is he? Or is it the other one who is?
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[Enabled to be bad once again. In perpetuity? Charlie's delighted.]
Maybe when you finish up that flower you can send me another drawing, eh? [Of a horse dick???]
[Please imagine the most conspiratorial giddiness on Charlie's face as Kiritsubo marks this discussion as an 'accident.'] I think its your new friend who's the worried one. Not jealous... [Disappointing.] Just overprotective. It's cute, so I can't help but run my mouth a little, you know?
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If you really want to just see it, rather than see it fucking me, I can show you off the paper, you know~
[There’s more than one advantage to being a shapeshifter.]
Overprotective, hmm? Makes sense. Wouldn’t want you corrupting anyone, now, would we?
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Ah. Yeah. I forgot. I don't really imagine you all... I don't think of you as man. Do you want me to, when you're shaped like one? [Trips into gender affirmation, just being nosy.]
Me?? I've never offered anyone something they haven't thought of before themselves! [So, yes, incredibly corruptive-
teehee]
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[Thankfully, Kiritsubo has a very cavalier attitude about all that.]
When I'm a man, you can think of me as one if you want. Or both. I doesn't matter much to me... I'm always Kiritsubo.
Though if you're very curious, Kiritsubo is usually a woman.
[Very clear answer.]
We're going to have to put you in devil horns for the upcoming costume party, I think~
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You're Kiritsubo to me, no matter what you're looking like. And if it's up to me, then I'm gonna think of you as a woman.
[Charlie makes up for any lack of clarity with his own willfulness, so this works!]
Hah! That's a good one, yeah! What are you gonna be? A horse?
[Jokes literally on him, he got a clown costume instead.]
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[She has her own hobbies, too.]
It's up to you ♡ And if you prefer, I can even keep the tits with the alicorn cock demonstration.
[Joke or offer? Who knows!]
I was thinking of doing the hell courtesan. I suppose you must not know that story.
[... Sorry, Charlie, she is gonna laaaaaaugh at you~]
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Hah, that's a little fucked up, but sure. When else will I get to see something like that?
But you're right, I don't know that story. Indulge me, eh? I like hearing from you - wanna tell it to me?
[He completely deserves it]
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[Isn't that fair?
Isn't it a little fucked up? But isn't a little fucked up fun?]
It's a bit of a long one... There's poetry involved... You have time?
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But he'll do it.
A little fucked up is fun. Charlie can't help a fascination with the taboo.]
So long as you're okay with me not understanding half of it, sure. I'm not really an... art guy?
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Do you prefer reading tales, or listening to them after you've been tucked in?
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I can read it if you want me to, but I do like hearing your voice.
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Hello... ? Is this the Four of Spades' residence? I'm calling to notify the man of the house that he's won an exclusive saucy bedtime story... Does he happen to be in?
[Enrichment indeed.]
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She's just spared some sorry fuck he was negging over the network.]
Aah, this sounds too good to be free. What's the catch? [Charlie settles in his seat with his arm propped up, watch near his lips. He's leaned his head against the wall, an affectionate little nuzzle to the infrastructure, meant for her.]
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Catch? There's no catch, this is a free sweepstakes~
[Her fingers twirl little patterns on the sheets, meant for him.]
The Buddha teaches us to be as charitable and free with our talents as the most generous and desired of courtesans.
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He wouldn't shut up, so he had to wait outside.] Not much of a businessman, is he? I'm gonna take advantage of that- [A promise, purred as well as his sharp voice can manage. A seduction.
He looks up, then tilts his head towards his bed. As if she'd be somehow in it.]
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[If she were not decidedly in the canid family, the sound she makes could be described as a purr.]
To think, I devote part of myself so freely to a man who would swindle the Buddha himself…
[She doesn’t sound too upset about it. The sigh is almost a far lewder sound.]
Are you settled in for your story, dear sir?
Because we begin some five hundred years past, at the end of the Onin War, when blood fought blood and burned much of the great capital of Kyoto in crude flames that know only how to consume and not how to differentiate the property of friend or foe.
In this decade of struggle over the succession of the Ashikaga shogunate, a samurai warrior named Umezu no Kamon Kageharu loses his life. Fearing for theirs without their only protector, his wife and two young daughters flee into the flame-lit night…
But what do you think found them, all alone in the dark of the rocky pass through Mt. Nyoigatake?
no subject
He looks from the bed to his shoes, smile resting contentedly across his lips. One, then two, he kicks them off. Settled in, indeed.
Although each story beat itself is simple, the words Kiritsubo weaves flow smoothly. An art Charlie can't properly appreciate, the kind that disappears behind the intrigue it creates. He has a narrow scope of interest, foreign names should be nothing but wisps in his ear.
But he answers her question immediately.] Nothin' good. They're gonna freeze. Unless the Buddha comes to save them, eh? [Seems he remembers the very basic framework of Christianity from his rock slinging days, at least.]
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Was this simply how the tale was told, or was she far more intimately familiar with a five hundred year old “legend” than one might guess?]
No, no, let’s not be hasty.
[She laughs just a little, as if this was a laughing matter.]
What awaited them in the rocks was not the welcome warmth of the temple they were fleeing towards, nor the cold embrace of freezing winds…
It was ruffians, bandits on the trail who had once been men of honor on the battlefield. Perhaps they even served with the widow’s late husband, once…
But honor was no longer a pillar in their hearts, and the paltry gold on her person was not enough to pay their self-imposed crossing tax… or convince them not to help themselves to what else she possessed instead.
She ran… But she did not get far.
[It’s obfuscated, because this sort of tale often dressed such things up… But Kiritsubo doesn’t think Charlie needs clarification on what happens to women set upon by “wolves” in the night.]
Which leaves us, of course, with her two little girls. Beauties, it is said… enough so that even brutes covered in their mother’s blood could be convinced not to lay hands so that they might be filled with more coin instead.
[The man she spoke to had made a point to tell her he did not usually peddle in flesh…
But others were not so scrupulous.]
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This is a terrible bedtime story.
Charlie does not peddle flesh, but he has partaken. Once. It wasn't a particularly terrible exchange; he'd simply been more interested in kissing and talking than the woman getting on her knees to show a much younger man a 'good first time.'
A gift for him offered by older men in his syndicate.
Charlie is well aware of what happens when men have a monopoly on violence. He considers this part of the story silently, not for any remorse but acceptance. This is how the world has always worked. Five hundred years ago or now.]
So they grew up and got sold around. One of 'em get tired of it make a bloody scene? [This is the story of The Hell Courtesan,' after all...]
no subject
[Thank goodness she isn’t trying to send him to slumber. A good bedtime story this is not.]
As fun as that would make the tale in an entirely different way… No, our darling courtesan took the name of her own volition.
The childhood name her mother gave her was Otoboshi. “The witty little star”.
[Thankfully, she had introduced him to the concept already of characters in names meaning something, with her paulownia.]
And perhaps that wit saved her. The bandits passed the girls to a woman who specialized in selling young flesh to the nation’s brothels, and though the elder sister was lost to the trade and eventually met a fate most unremarkable for a prostitute, Otoboshi was sold to a fine institution of high repute in the pleasure district of Sakai, a flourishing port town. From a young age she was taught the ways of service and temptation, and, having proven herself a good study and a potential beauty, she was taught fine arts and literature, fashion and poetry, and all manner of skills that might delight a discerning man. After her maidenhood was auctioned she climbed the ranks of the district in popularity, and soon enough she became a top-class courtesan who sailors, merchants, and samurai all competed to buy for the night.
And yet… What a pitiable fate! What joy or satisfaction could be gleaned from clawing to the top if what you climb is a pile of rubbish and greed and clumsy lust? Otoboshi cursed the turn in fortune that had turned her from the proud daughter of an honorable warrior to a glittering jewel that could be bought each night, and she abandoned her name to instead be called Hell, so that each man who asked for her time or cried out her name would be reminded of what awaited him for his sins, and she devoted herself in her own time to praying that the sins of her past life that must have earned her rebirth into her current misfortune would somehow be cleansed. That she might die and earn safe passage to the Pure Land.
[There’s a pause, finally, a thoughtful hum, and then-]
Now, around this time… there was a very curious monk named Ikkyu who happened to frequent Sakai.
What do you know about monks… ?
no subject
There's a particular focus on good company that the courtesan Kiritsubo describes has. A more overt desire for companionship - there's nothing to love about this story, but Charlie's smile softens with the realization. In his city, men will pay women for their time without fucking them, but such an act is kept secret in shame.
And shame, too, is more overt in this tale. Charlie rolls his head against the back of his seat from side to side slowly, chuckling at the clever twist of the woman's name. There's little real power to be had in her position, but she wrested control where she could with the grimmest of humor.]
Aah...? Monks? Like priests? [To answer: he knows almost nothing about monks. Charlie's eyebrows raise, eyes still lidded, as he strains to remember if he's ever met a monk.]
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