22 Feb 1999. Francisco has tea with Amaranth in a dream vision.
(Francisco) (Necropolis) (Rephidim)
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House on the Edge of the World
Or so it might seem. A small, exotic-looking house with wooden panel walls sits perched on a rocky precipice that juts out from a cliff, alongside a waterfall that tumbles downward, spilling into a bowl-like formation of rocks. Beyond the rim of the rocky bowl is a drop downward that vanishes into mists. For all appearances, the drop might continue forever.

A five-tailed fox finds himself standing just outside of this house. The house is of distinctly Oriental influence, though it does not sport rice-paper walls, and many details of the construction seem just a bit out of place. Plus, there's something vague about the whole scene … something blurry. Details seem to escape any attempts to focus on them too closely. All in all, it would seem that the five-tailed fox is having a dream.

The fox seems slightly puzzled at this setting, and looks around at his surroundings, before starting to walk towards the house.

Clear water falls, dancing down the jumble of rocks that form part of the broken cliff. A rocky ledge provides the only available path, and one might wonder just how one accesses this place without wings or rapelling equipment. Along the way, a bonsai tree is planted beside the path. It has been carefully pruned and trimmed in a way that no one on Sinai would surely know how to. But then, this is a dream.

Francisco pauses at the tree for a moment, crouching down to look at it. He casts a look back to the house, and resumes walking towards it.

A panel slides open for Francisco, of its own accord, and the fox smoothly glides into the house in one of those transitions that only happen in dreams. He is inside the abode now, and it seems he has already done the courtesy of removing his shoes without even thinking about it. The floors are bare wood, and the room he is in has "walls" formed by paper screens with wooden frames. There is a low table in the middle of the floor and cushions to sit on – no chairs.

To one side of the room is a lacquered black wooden frame, upon which rests a sword – a katana – in its scabbard, along with a shorter blade – the wakizashi – in a matching scabbard. The handles are wrapped in red cloth, and peeking out from underneath the bindings can be seen a small brass (or perhaps that's some other material) oriental dragon design in the grip.

Some decorative fans hang on the walls, and brush paintings on the screens depict scenes of tranquility – a mountain valley filled with mists, a lady in a kimono standing underneath the boughs of a cherry blossom tree in bloom … but some of the blossoms are falling to the ground … and the lady is not a human, but rather a vulpine, with golden fur and seven tails.

The gray fox walks around the side of the room looking at at each of the items, and pauses in front of one of the paintings, tilting his head a little as he looks over it. "The owner of this place?" Francisco wonders out loud, but quietly. "But this place is where?"

A screen divider slides open, revealing a kneeling golden kitsune, seven tails peeking out from underneath the back of her silken kimono. Or is that zolk? She comes into the chamber, sliding the screen behind her, and arranging some ceramic cups and a steaming pitcher, each of which have matching designs that suggest swirling clouds and stylized mountainscapes.

Francisco turns around at the sound of the screen dividers moving, and sees the Kitsune. Silently, he moves over to the table in the center and watches.

The golden kitsune arranges everything for a tea ceremony. It would appear that she is in the place of the one who serves. The cushion reserved for the honored guest, on the opposite side of the low table, is vacant.

The gray-fox Kitsune moves over to the side of the table with the free place, and kneels down there, resting his hands on his knees.

What follows is a ceremony … a ritual serving of tea that takes what would be considered an excruciating amount of time for the average "uncivilized barbarian" of this world, no doubt. Each movement of the golden kitsune is slow and deliberate, right down to how she finally pours a cup of tea for her guest, and carefully turns it in her hand so that the decorative design on the cup faces the one being served. She holds it out for the gray-furred guest to take.

Francisco takes the offered cup with both hands, and bows with his head to his 'host'.

The tea is hot and flavorful … or so it should be. It's not quite as real, as pungent as it ought to be, driving home again the dream nature of this whole experience.

"Welcome to my humble home, Francisco-san," says the golden vixen, in the voice of Amaranth.

Francisco perks his ears and raises an eyebrow as he recognises the voice. "Thank you," he replies. "So, we 'meet' face to face at last. But where is this place?" he asks.

"Home," says Amaranth, matter-of-factly. "As much as any place can be for one such as I. It is just a dream, after all."

The gray fox 'ahhs' and nods, as it makes as much sense as anything right now.

After a pause, he then asks, "So why am I dreaming this?"

The edge of Amaranth's mouth curls up in a smirk, and she stifles a quiet laugh. "We're sharing space, remember? Perhaps I just wished to get better acquainted with you. After all, we could very well be spending a long time together. As a place to start … are you named after the city or the saint?"

"Oh, of course," says Francisco. "And I chose my name after the city. Since I eventually 'settled' there, it seemed as good a name as any."

"So, it is not your real name?" asks the golden vixen.

Francisco chuckles, "Of course not. What Kitsune would use their real name in common circles?"

Amaranth makes a dainty gesture, swivelling her hands to cover an amused expression on her face. "As one might say in another tongue, 'touche'."

The gray fox chuckles, and grins. "I could add to that 'nice try'."

"But we are friends, are we not? Or, at the very least, we are very close. I would dare say few could be closer." Amaranth waves one hand, then says, "I suspect you aren't interested enough to ask, but I might as well explain my own chosen name. It is the name of a mythical flower … one with blooms that never fade or die. Not that I am any more like that flower than you are like a city."

"I can't argue that about being 'close'," Francisco replies. "As for names, there are those who chose their names because they feel it describes them. Then there are those who just like the sound of it. We both fall into the latter?"

"Perhaps," says Amaranth. She pauses a while, then asks, "Do you hope to see that city again?"

Francisco shrugs slightly. "I can't deny the fact that I'd like to," he says. "I do miss the old place a fair bit, plus I did have some good friends there. But, this place really doesn't seem to be that bad once you get established."

Amaranth continues, "So you are content to live here? But what will you do with yourself here?"

"Not really completely content," the gray fox replies, "but it's better than living out in the wilds somewhere."

Francisco grins, "I guess I'm too used to urban surroundings."

"We have our differences," suggests Amaranth. "I prefer a certain degree of quiet." She sighs, looking at the brush painting of the mountain valley on the screen-wall. "You have many friends, then, and a comfortable living? No enemies? It seems surprisingly easy to make them, just for being different. There isn't anything you might wish were a bit better?"

"Well, living could be better, and as for enemies – there is one particular person that continues to annoy me," says Francisco. "Although, recently it certainly seems like his bark is worse than his bite. I guess that's kinda appropriate for a poodle," he finishes with a chuckle.

Amaranth makes a disgusted expression and a "whoo" sound at the mention of poodles, shaking her head lightly. Then, she smirks, as if something has occurred to her.

Francisco seems to have noticed that. "You have had run-ins with them also?" he asks.

"Run-ins with poodles? On Rephidim? Surely you jest," says the kitsune. "Of COURSE I've had run-ins with them. The spoiled rich elite have the most disgusting of traditions concerning vulpines."

The gray fox kitsune nods. "Believe me, I understand."

Francisco says, "Sometimes I wonder how they'd like a taste of their own medicine."

The golden kitsune giggles lightly. "Well, perhaps that could be arranged. I have learned a bit of magic myself while on Sinai. Perhaps together, we could make something of it. Would it not be fitting to take care of two problems with one action? You could steal away the wealth of a pampered poodle, in a particularly embarrassing way … and, of course, make far better use of it yourself."

The fived-tail fox considers this quietly for a moment, then regards the golden furred kitsune with another raised-eyebrow. "It has… a certain appeal to it."

"Let me propose a scenario, then," says the kitsune, smiling mischievously. "Let us say that I might be able to produce for you a cloak of invisibility. Might. That is a challenge to be handled separately. Let us suggest that you might be able to cleverly steal some valuable possessions of this poodle … but still leave a trail for him to follow. A trail that would lead him back to the culprit's 'secret hideout'. A hideout which, in actuality, happens to be a heretofore unknown access to the Rephidim Sewer System."

"Of course," adds the golden kitsune, "the idea is that the poodle won't discover that until it's too late." She winks.

Francisco grins and nods. "Of course. Maybe I could contribute an illusion to keep in waiting to make this particular poodle believe the 'hideout' is really… innocuous?"

"Hmm. I like that. My skills at redecorating – in the real world, in any case – are sorely lacking. That would help immensely, Francisco-san," says the golden kitsune, her eyes glittering momentarily as she smiles.

Francisco smiles back. "Yes, yes… I think this would certainly do well – for starters."

"Well, then," says the golden kitsune, reaching over to pick up a bottle of what probably is not tea, and pouring it into her empty cup, and a bit into Francisco's. She holds up her cup in an obvious deviation from the traditional tea ceremony. "I propose a toast."

Picking up his cup, Francisco asks, "To what are we toasting?"

"To us," says the golden kitsune, smiling.

"To us, then," replies Francisco, and holds up his cup.

---

GMed by Greywolf & Lynx

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