The Goddess of Pleasure sits on Her throne, with courtiers chattering in the seats all around Her, a few kneeling on pillowed branches at her feet, gazing adoringly up at Her as they speak in reverent voices to Her. If anything, She seems even more radiant then the last time She was seen, as though Her beauty grows with each passing moment.

A stage has been set up before the court, set to resemble the deck of a Babelite warship. Tied to one of the masts,Chi Maria (a.k.a. Envoy) sings out her plea for rescue, whilethe crew of pirate-costumed Eeee laugh and gloat.

There is a flash of orange and pink, as a foppish fox in an impossibly frilly costume swings across the stage on a conveniently placed rigging-rope. Fearless, he lets out abattle cry that blends in with the orchestra's crescendo.

The bound damsel sings out triumphantly, "Oh now you fiends will suffer!" and goes into some detail about the horrible things her lover (the swashbuckling fox) is about to wreak upon them. (Envoy has taken a bit of artistic license to better appeal to the tastes of an Eeee audience, so there is a bit more evisceration and mutilation described than in the original performance.)

With a gravity-defying leap from the rope, the fox flips several times in mid-air, then lands squarely on his feet, not a hair or frill out of place. Eeee warriors charge him immediately. Almost casually, as if this is the sort of thing a fox does every day, the hero fends off the blows of his attackers, and returns darting thrusts of his blade, as his attackers fly back (often doing backflips when they get hit) as they are struck down one by one.

Envoy cries out whenever it looks like one of the pirates will get through the fox's defenses, but otherwise alternates between cheering on her hero and insulting the Eeee. Occasionally, she'll add in a small bit of advice, like, "That one pinched me! Cut his hands off for me!"

With quite a bit more flashing and darting, at last all the bat warriors lie in heaps before the victorious fox … who then strides across the deck, and, with a blur of motion, whips his sword back and forth, effortlessly slicing through the ropes that hold Envoy in place, so that they fall to the deck in pieces.

The damsel falls to her knees and hugs the fox tight against her corsets, weeping and singing of how her love for him was the only thing that kept her spirits up through her ordeal.

Alas for our hero, one of the bat warriors wasn't quite dead just yet. While the fox is distracted, one of the Eeee rises up, singing in his dying breaths a loud curse against any who would oppose the might of Babel and the Seven Sisters. With a triumphant dart of his blade – glistening with green venom – he slashes at the fox … then collapses, committing his soul to the Kindly Ones.

Envoy wails! Clutching the fox to her again, she sings of how meaningless life is without him, and lists his many masculine virtues as well. In a final burst of angst, she takes up the poisoned dagger and stabs herself through the heart. Soon, her shade rises and joins that of the fox, and the two sing again of how their love will now last forever in Paradise.

Then, the symphony strikes up a stirring closing melody, a reprise of Envoy's solo as "Chi Maria", as curtains close, obscuring the scene on the stage.

"I hope I was emoting enough," Envoy whispers to Reynard behind the curtain.

After the curtain falls, the two hear the clapping of Inala's delicate white hands, and a warm wave of pleasure washes over them with the sound. The curtain lifts again, to reveal the applauding audience, as the Eeee courtiers join in.

Envoy smiles and takes a small bow.

The foppish fox, likewise miraculously restored to life, takes a bow as well, with a sweeping flourish of his wide-brimmed hat, and a swish of his fluffy red-and-white tail.

The Goddess leans forward from Her throne, bestowing a wondrous smile upon the performers. The bat courtiers leap to their feet, and whisper in Her ears. Snippets from their conversation drift down towards the stage. "Lovely voice… ," from one and "stirring action," from another comes down.

"It was an honor to perform for you, Your Beautiousness," Envoy says, wondering exactly how you're supposed to address a goddess.

The fox bows low as well. "The pleasure was all mine, Your Worship!"

"I am sure it was," the Goddess says, still smiling upon them. "Shoo," She murmurs to the bats, and they hastily flit off. "Come to Me," She bids the performers, beckoning with one lily hand. The sleeve of Her dress shimmers and drapes just so with the motion.

The foppish fox makes a gallant leap down from the stage, bounding with as much flourish as he can possibly pack into his response to the simple request.

The fox pauses a moment, regarding the base of the tree … then, with a "Pardon me!" he bounds onto a pedestal, borrows the shoulders of a nearby courtier, leaps from there to the trunk of the tree, then bounces from branch to branch, scampering to and fro and scrabbling here and there, swinging a loop around one branch for momentum, then hurling himself into the air … to land on his feet before the throne. "Taran-tara!" he cheers in self-fanfare, then bows again, doffing his hat.

Envoy walks a bit more slowly, up invisible steps in the air. Finally, she kneels down on the cushion and tries to seem meek.

As the two take their seats, She smiles at each of them in turn. "Be gone, My court," She bids, and the watching Eeee melt into nothingness, leaving just the three of them. "I am sure you are eager to learn to whom victory belongs," She continues.

Reynard nods vigorously. "Oh, quite so … though … of course, no need to rush terribly. We so much enjoy merely being in your presence after all. That in itself is a reward beyond compare!"

The fox's tail-twitches betray the fact that while he may have slapped on his "fop mask", he's still scared witless.

Nodding, Envoy says, "Whatever your decision, we are both better off for having caught your divine attention."

"I know you are," the Lady says, kindly. "Ah, would that I could keep you both at My side, My little entertainers. But to each contest, there may be only one victor." She turns to Reynard, reaching out to stroke Her fingers against his cheek. "You gave a brave and noble performance just now, and a brilliant one when you first came before Me, sweet fox," She tells him, and the words light him with a palpable glow.

The fox beams at the praise. Literally, it seems. He almost swoons at the cheek-stroke, and giggles in an unmanly way.

"Alas, would that you had been just a little better, My little fox. Now you must leave Me." Inala turns Her radiant visage to Envoy. "Rise, My dear child, for you are," She pauses, and when she continues, Her words have a stereophonic quality, the echo of another long-ago-spoken voice over them, "the winner of this game."

Envoy blinks and stands up, looking a bit shocked.

The fox's jaw quivers, as the realization sinks in. He whimpers piteously, and clutches his tail close to his chest, worrying the fur vigorously, trying for all the world to hide underneath his floppy hat.

Biting her lip, Envoy wonders more than ever what stakes Reynard was playing for.

The Goddess pays no heed to Reynard, instead reserving Her full attention for Envoy. "Now, speak, My little one, and tell Me: What boon do you wish of Me?" In that instant, the force of Her perfection strikes the Aeolun anew, that irresistible, indescribable, unimaginable Beauty that the fox had spoken of – that he said could not possibly exist. Staring it full in the face, Envoy knows that Reynard was wrong; it is real, and nothing else could ever compare.

Reynard staggers back, stammering, "Th-that … your voice?" His eyes waver as they dart over to Envoy. "Envoy … please," he babbles incoherently, unable to piece together a single sentence, rhyme or no, in the face of his impending doom.

The Aeolun's mouth moves, and she whispers, "I ask only to remain with You, Beautiful Lady, and to serve You always." Her eyes are glazed though, and there seems to be a bit of strain in her voice. "Only … let me be Your avatar, and I will have all I ever wished for."

Reynard looks at Envoy with unbelieving eyes. "No … no … Envoy … that's not … " His head jerks toward Inala, as if the vain idea came to him that Inala might somehow correct Envoy for him. "She doesn't mean … really … this isn't how it's supposed … " And then, he breaks off, coughing violently, covering his mouth with a hand. He pulls his hand away … staring in horror as he sees that his white lacy glove is stained … red. "Noooo," he moans, as a rasp comes to his throat.

Inala touches Envoy's cheek. "Granted," She says, and Her voice resonates through the land, covering the sounds Reynard makes as an orchestra might mask the sounds of a mouse caught in a trap. A wave of warmth, love, peace, and happiness rushes into Envoy like a drug, and she knows pleasure as she has never before known it.

Envoy can barely breathe over the sensations, which wash away all attempts at actual thought.

The fox staggers, hacking, then choking as ribbons of red escape from his tightly clamped lips, staining his fine lace. His fur seems less shiny than it did just moments ago, and a faint but foul odor forms … though it seems so distant, thanks to the warding influence of Inala's power.

Trying to focus on Reynard, Envoy struggles to think. No matter what I am feeling, what is happening is not good.

As the fox staggers back, a mist forms behind him, then a cloud … and then the cloud bursts open, like a rupturing boil. From within, a hand can be seen, though only vaguely. But as it reaches out through the rift, it becomes more solid, more real once it ventures into Inala's realm, and it seems as if something of Inala's power flows back through it, and into the rift. The hand is delicately formed … but wrapped in bandages. It casually reaches out, and grasps the fox by the tail with a gentle but irresistable grip. A great deal of his tail hair simply falls out at the touch, and he tries to scream, but only succeeds in coughing up bile on himself.

"Gor… phat?" Envoy whispers, feeling too detached from things.

"Take him and be done, My sister," the Goddess of Pleasure says, the mildest of disapproval in Her voice. "You are upsetting My darling victor." She ruffles Envoy's mane, and Her touch forces an artificial calm on the Aeolun.

Any remaining energy soon drains from the fox, and he slumps against the hand, which grasps him as if he were a child's toy … a filthy rag doll. As his head lolls to one side, his eyes stare blankly at Envoy … and a tear rolls down his stained cheek. "… not … fair," he wheezes … and then, wordlessly, the hand draws him back into the rift … which abruptly seals itself and fades into nothingness, any last traces washed away by Inala's blazing presence.

Envoy exhales as her mind now has a bit more … breathing room. This isn't right. I don't want to be an avatar … I'm sure I don't.

Even as she thinks it, Envoy finds half of herself not believing the words. That glorious sense of well-being remains with her, filling her so that the simple act of breathing seems a special, magical delight. "Now," Inala says, returning Her full attention to the Aeolun, "What shall We do first, My darling champion?"

"I don't … understand," Envoy manages, as she tries to separate what's been done to her into a new Aspect.

The Avatar feels Inala's love spreading through her, bleeding into each persona like an infection, becoming playmate to the Child, stimulation for the Probe, Mother to the Father. Only the Dragon resists Her, and it feels like a losing battle. "Oh, My sweet Avatar," the Kindly One tells her, "you will."