Bad moon rising

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

Afternoon of Sunday, October 11th

It's a mild enough afternoon as I walk into town. Probably shouldn't be out here; there's things to do back at the abbey. Always plenty to do on a Sunday. But I'm in a thoughtful sort of mood, and the walking helps.

Had a dream last night, about Concetta. Not the first one by a long shot. It's funny, when I first told her I was going to take temporary vows and we broke up, I didn't dream about her at all. I was so immersed in everything, and I thought when I gave up my name I was giving up the past. Of course, it doesn't work as easily as that, and after a few months, when I was really getting into my new life and I knew, really knew, that this was it for me, forever - well, it hurt more then, knowing what I gave up. Didn't change my resolve, and there's never been anything in my life that's made me as happy as serving Nanshe. Never think that I did the wrong thing. But sometimes, over the years, I've dreamed of Concetta, and I've missed her.

Last night's dream was a bit different, though. She wasn't young. Usually in my dreams we're both still young, barely out of our teens, and yeah, sometimes they're sex dreams but not always. Even when they're not, I still usually wake up with a hard-on, cos that's just how it is, if you're a bloke, I reckon. Just cos you give up fucking doesn't mean your cock forgets. It was easy not having sex, the first year or so, cos I was so fervent, and then it was really fucking hard for a couple more years, and then it got easier, and now it doesn't bother me most of the time. But last night's dream rattled me, cos Concetta and me, we was older than we are now. She had all these fine lines around her mouth, and I knew on waking that's just what those lines will look like when she's fifty. Her mouth always did turn down. Made her look sulky when she wasn't. A serious sort of mouth. And in my dream we'd buried my parents, and she took me to bed, which was our bed, and in my dream I was crying as we did it. When I woke up I was crying too. Not exactly fucking difficult to see what that dream was about, really. Got my share of guilt about a few things, I do. And maybe I feel a bit guilty because despite that, despite what I chose and knowing that it hurt people, I don't regret it. Knowing that I can never love anyone as much as I love my goddess. It's right, I think, that we had to give up romance and sex to live at the abbey. Not cos those things are bad. Nanshe is a mother, she loves families. But the way I serve her... There's room for friends in that, but not for anything else. No one else can be anything but second best.

All the same, it nags at me a bit, the dream. Cos I think Concetta and I would've been happy, and she never did get married, did she? Had kids, but never married, and I wonder if that's my fault. Shouldn't be so fucking arrogant, thinking what, I spoiled her for other men, but I wonder sometimes if she'd have found someone to love if she hadn't known me. Would never ask her, though. She'd probably smack me in the face, and quite right too. Can't go around feeling guilty for other people's choices - it's self-indulgent bollocks, is what it is.

I found I've come to the end of Silk Road, and the carnival wheel's turning. On a whim I decide to go across. I've been to the carnival, but not in a while. When I get over it's got a sad, end-of-holiday feel to it, bunting drooping, the wheel turning with no one on it. There's a few kids running about, but the barkers aren't bothering to shout, there's so few people out here. Wonder what they make of me, as I'm still in my robes. Don't really mind.

I buy myself some cotton candy. The sugar in my mouth makes me smile. Food's always been a way to cheer me up, and there's something so happily pointless about cotton candy. Fluffy sugar, I mean, what's the point of it except to make you smile? There's something lovely in that. Not everything needs a point, after all. Sometimes it's enough for the wheel to just keep turning.

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[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

Been a dull fuckin' night so far. I still ain't doin' bad bizness...folks don't get tired'a what I got t'sell...but mosta th'rest'a th'Lot's suff'rin'. Folk don't hardly look'at th'rides'r th'games no more, an'ey's gotten'eir fill'a th'sideshow 'n th'performers. Th'Grindhouse 'n somma th'other "special" stalls 'r th'only ones still doin' real good bizness. We's startin' t'hurt. So far ain't had no trouble gettin' food on th'table...Management's made sur'a that...but lotsa folks gettin' bored, havin' trouble gettin' 'nough cash fer th'li'l luxuries. Somma th'displays 'r lookin' neglected (not th'rides; Zann'd rip alla th'skin offa'er own back 'fore she let any ovvem go t'seed), but somma th'others don't see th'point'n keepin' thin's nice. Don't like it, me. Don't like seein' m'home goin' downhill.

No crowds t'day...'course, don't us'ally get too many folks onna Sunday afternoon, what wittus bein' th'plac'a sin 'n allat. But e'en'en, 's pretty fuckin' dead. Got done up in m'witch gear, but so far ain't seen no custom. Likely won't see th'real deal 'til t'night anyway. But ain't got nothin' else t'do, so might's well see if'n I c'n make a few bucks. Standin' outside m'tent takin' a smoke break right now, tryin' t'think 'bout thin's. 'tween gettin' ridda Lily, th'shit Management's pullin' an' ev'rythin' wit'Tez, seems like I got way too fuckin' much t'think 'bout lately.

Fella's walkin' by...monk? Might be monk, yeah, monk 'r priest 'r somethin' like'at, what wit'ose robes. Don't see too many church folk in'ere, but ev'ry so often we get somebody lookin' fer some harmless fun....else we get th'nasty ones comin' fer th'Grindhouse. Sometimes'ey jes' want'eir itch scratched, but th'girls've told me somma th'nastiest clients'ey ever got wuz priests. Th'ones'at try t'walk out wit'out payin' 'r get mean afterwards...

...but'is one don't look mean. Young, maybe few years younger'n me, 'n right pretty too. 'at don't mean much, but'e's eatin' fuckin' cotton candy, an's gettin' caught innis beard, an' aint'a man 'live't c'n look nasty wit' cotton candy innis beard. An'e's gotta nice smile too. Can't help but smile back, jes' got onna those faces.

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

Fucking sticky, this cotton candy. It's all over my hands and beard, but when I try to wipe it away I just get messier. I spot a woman looking at me, and I laugh a bit.

"Must be a right sight," I say, gesturing to my beard. I finish what's left on the stick and throw it in a trash can and smile at her. Be nice to pass the time of day with someone after spending so long with just my thoughts. "You visiting too, or do you work here?"

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

Sees me lookin'n laughs. "Must be a right sight," 'e says, pullin' th'last offa th'stick 'n stuffin't inta'is mouth. "You visiting too, or do you work here?"

Do mosta th'vis'tors have'eir faces powdered up an' go 'round inna long black dress?" is what I wanna say, but'e's tryin' t'be friendly, so's I bite it back. "Work'ere," I says, gesturin' t'th'poster b'hind me. Genny did a pretty good likeness, I think. 'e's a mark, but we ain't doin' bizness, so's I don't bother talkin' pretty. Anyways, 'm on m'fuckin' break. "Name's Syl. 'm th'witch 'round'ere."

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

"Nice to meet you, Syl," I say. "I'm Nanse-kam, and I work at the abbey, though I'd reckon you've guessed that." I look at the poster. "It's a good likeness," I say. "Think you look less scary in real life, though," I grin, looking at the rather ominous portrait. "So, witching. A good business to be in?" I ask. Wonder if she's just some regular woman who sells spit and frog spawn to silly teenagers who believe it'll make their cocks grow or their boyfriends propose just cos it's in a shiny bottle. Might well be, though in Excolo it's best not to assume anything, I've found.

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

"Nice to meet you, Syl," 'e says, still smilin'. Least'e's friendly. "I'm Nanse-kam, and I work at the abbey, though I'd reckon you've guessed that."

"Ain't really hard t'guess," I says, smilin' back. If'n I wuz younger I might wonder if'n'e wuz jes' lookin' t'get inta m'pants, but'ere's fresher meat'n me 'round'ere. Might jes' be genuinely friendly. Don't happen often, butit 'appens.

See'im lookin over th'poster. "It's a good likeness. Think you look less scary in real life, though," Well, 'e ain't seen me onna bad day, but'at's okay. "So, witching. A good business to be in?"

"D'pends whatcha mean by good," I says, shruggin'. "Keeps me fed, gives me 'nough t'get me some treats now'n'en..." I got simple tastes anyway. "Butcha gotta havva strong stomach ferrit, if'n'at's whatcha mean. Can't 'magine preachin's allat much better, though." Look'im up'n down, 'n smile a bit more, "An' I get t'have sex."

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

Syl smiles back. Got a good smile, I think, though it looks hard won. Kind of woman who doesn't smile a lot, I think, but when she does she means it. Like that, I do, though I'm the sort who smiles at everything. Sunny morning, I smile, good coffee, I smile... Just how I am.

"Keeps me fed, gives me 'nough t'get me some treats now'n'en... Butcha gotta havva strong stomach ferrit, if'n'at's whatcha mean. Can't 'magine preachin's allat much better, though. An' I get t'have sex."

I burst out laughing and slap my hand against my thigh.

"Bless you for an honest comment, Syl," I say, holding out my hand to shake hers. "Most people just wonder about it and wrinkle their noses, Lady love them." I shake my head. "Don't do a lot of preaching myself, to be honest. Lead a few services now and then, but that's not so much my gig. I train the kids - the novices, I mean - to fight, do a bit of weaving too, though my main gig's interpreting dreams." I grin. "And yeah, I haven't had sex in fourteen years. At least, not with another person," I say, giving her a wink. "But I probably sowed enough oats back when I was a kid to last me half a lifetime, anyway."

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

Known a few priests in m'day'at woulda taken'at last bitta amiss. Gotten all pissy'n stomp off'r started yellin' 'bout sin 'n allat shit. Buttis fella starts laughin', even gives'is legga good slap. Real laugh too, not like'e's tryin' t'fake 's way through a joke. "Bless you for an honest comment, Syl. Most people just wonder about it and wrinkle their noses, Lady love them." 'e says, 'n holds out'is hand.

Pause a bit. Cuz, y'know, don't much like shakin' hands, not wit' th'state mine'r in. But'e's still tryin' t'be nice...an'I got m'gloves on. So take'is hand 'n shake it. Gotta good strong grip...'is ain't no fat 'n wine-fed priest, no sire. 'is fella feels like'e works ferra livin'. "Don't do a lot of preaching myself, to be honest. Lead a few services now and then, but that's not so much my gig. I train the kids - the novices, I mean - to fight, do a bit of weaving too, though my main gig's interpreting dreams. And yeah, I haven't had sex in fourteen years. At least, not with another person."

Well, ain't'at a damn shame, s'what I find m'self thinkin', cuz really, nice-lookin' fella like'is? Could be gettin' pussy right, left'n center. Wouldn't be 'pposed t'takin'im ferra few rounds m'self, pretty azze is. But'ell, if'n'at's what'e wants....dumb azzi think ittis...

"But I probably sowed enough oats back when I was a kid to last me half a lifetime, anyway."

"Know how'at is," I says, grinnin' through smoke. "Fourteen years...think m'cunt woulda imploded." Drop m'butt 'n grind it out. Start t'take out m'pack 'n offer t'im, "Y'smoke?"

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

Syl looks for a minute like she doesn't want to shake, and I wonder if I've made a mistake. Maybe carnies don't like to touch townies, who knows? But she offers her hand after a minute. Good firm grip.

"Know how'at is. Fourteen years...think m'cunt woulda imploded. Y'smoke?"

Laugh at that. Syl's a straight talker. Not enough of those around these days.

"No smokes for me, cheers," I say. "Used to smoke a bit, but you try running laps with smoker's lungs... No, I gave them up years back." I smile at her. "I dread to think what an exploding cunt'd look like," I say. "Could cause a natural disaster, maybe. 'Town destroyed by explosive vagina'." I laugh. "Took a few years to get used to it, not shagging, but what I do now is more important to me than that, so -" I shrug. "So it's alright. But," I laugh, "I was a badly behaved boy, I can tell you. Took me a while to settle down." I grin as she lights a cigarette. "You been with the carnival long?"

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

"No smokes for me, cheers," 'e says, an'I smile 'n take one fer m'self. "Used to smoke a bit, but you try running laps with smoker's lungs... No, I gave them up years back."

"Unnerstand'at," I says, noddin' azzi light up, "ain't got too much cause fer runnin'ere, least not onna track...so ain't got no reason t'quit m'self." Smile attim.

"I dread to think what an exploding cunt'd look like. Could cause a natural disaster, maybe. 'Town destroyed by explosive vagina'."

God damn. Nearly spit out m'cig when I start t'laugh. Metta few priests in m'time, sure...but ain't never met one wit sucha raunchy sensa humour. Gotta say I kinda like it. "Said implode, not explode. Y'know, when somethin' falls inside?" Grin summore at th'thought, "Kinda makes more sensat way, dontcha think? Whole cunt starts coll'psin' inwards, starts suckin' th'whole town in after it, like onna'em black holes. Reckon'at could happen."

"Took a few years to get used to it, not shagging, but what I do now is more important to me than that, so -So it's alright. But, I was a badly behaved boy, I can tell you. Took me a while to settle down."

"Ain't never known nobody't had so much sex when'ey wuzza kid'ey got'emselves tot'lly fucked out," I says t'im, raisin' m'eyebrow. "You musta been somethin' special. So whatcha do know, if'n y'ain't really preachin'?"

"You been with the carnival long?"

"Since I wuz fourteen. So...goin' on thirty years now." Weird now, t'think 'bout 'at. Weird t'think when I joined up I wuz still what most folk'd think ov azza kid. I sure's hell didn't feel like a kid when I joined up. Don't know'at I ever really 'member ever feelin' like a fuckin' kid. "How long y'been a priest?"

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

Syl starts laughing, and I laugh with her. There's always something nice about laughing with a stranger, cos it shows that people can keep on connecting even when they don't know anything about each other.

"Kinda makes more sensat way, dontcha think? Whole cunt starts coll'psin' inwards, starts suckin' th'whole town in after it, like onna'em black holes. Reckon'at could happen."

"That'd be a new sort of apocalypse," I observe. "I've heard blokes say they'd like to die between the legs of a beautiful woman, but I doubt that's what they had in mind," I say with a grin.

"Ain't never known nobody't had so much sex when'ey wuzza kid'ey got'emselves tot'lly fucked out. You musta been somethin' special. So whatcha do know, if'n y'ain't really preachin'?"

"Oh, I don't know about being fucked out," I say. "Just - it wasn't like I came to this life not knowing what I was giving up, you know? Had tried it out, quite a bit, and so it's not like it's an empty spot on my life To Do list." I grin. "And abbey life keeps me pretty busy, even without preaching. Always stuff to do there. It's a nice place. You should visit sometime. We won't try to get you into a wimple," I add.

"Since I wuz fourteen. So...goin' on thirty years now. How long y'been a priest?"

"I was 21 when I decided to move into the abbey," I say. "Spent a year as a novice. Then I took temporary vows for five years, and after that I took permanent vows. That was eight years ago. I've lived in Excolo all my life, though, and my folks've still got a farm a few miles outside town."

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

"That'd be a new sort of apocalypse," 'e says, still kinda chucklin', "I've heard blokes say they'd like to die between the legs of a beautiful woman, but I doubt that's what they had in mind."

"Think th'woman'd get sucked in first, in any case," s'what I say. "First she goes down, like schloop, an'en the resta th'town goes down wit'er." Is a pretty fuckin' funny image t'get in yer head, once ya get down t'it. "Though I 'spose's some fellas idea'a heaven, gettin' sucked inta some real welcomin' pussy fer alla forever, right?"

"Oh, I don't know about being fucked out. Just - it wasn't like I came to this life not knowing what I was giving up, you know? Had tried it out, quite a bit, and so it's not like it's an empty spot on my life To Do list." Smart, t'm'mind. Get th'feelin' lotta th'mean ones 'r th'ones't didn't get no pussy when'ey had th'chance to. "And abbey life keeps me pretty busy, even without preaching. Always stuff to do there. It's a nice place. You should visit sometime. We won't try to get you into a wimple."

Well, 'at's a nice thought, but really... "Found over th'years't chicks like me ain't 'zactly welcome at churches," I says, still smilin', but don't feel so much like a nice smile no more. Us'ally in m'best int'rest t'avoid th'fuckin' churches like th'goddamn plague. Sometimes th'"Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live" don't start up if'n y'stay away from the churches. Sometimes th'rocks start flyin' if'n y'don't.

"I was 21 when I decided to move into the abbey. Spent a year as a novice. Then I took temporary vows for five years, and after that I took permanent vows. That was eight years ago. I've lived in Excolo all my life, though, and my folks've still got a farm a few miles outside town."

Doin' th'math then yeah, 'e's five'r six years younger'n me. From what I c'n see under the robes'e's gotta hell ovva body ferra priest. Most th'ones've seen run t'fat after a few years. "Guess'ey must be happy, havin' a priest in th'fam'ly. Seems like a respect'ble sorta trade...though th'Church don't see so influential innis town way't izzin somma th'other places've seen." An' really, t'm'mind, 'at's all t'th'good. Towns where th'Church takes over tend t'go kinda loopy.

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

"Found over th'years't chicks like me ain't 'zactly welcome at churches," says Syl, getting a stiff look about her. Wonder what she means - that she's a carnie? Or that she's a witch? Maybe that she's queer - has a vibe that she could be.

"We're quite laid back, as churches go," I say with a bit of a shrug.

"Guess'ey must be happy, havin' a priest in th'fam'ly. Seems like a respect'ble sorta trade...though th'Church don't see so influential innis town way't izzin somma th'other places've seen."

I smile a bit ruefully.

"Would've preferred me to get married, have a few kids, take over the farm, I reckon. But they're used to it now, and I see them when I can. You got any family?"

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

"We're quite laid back, as churches go," 'e says, 'n mebbe'e's right. Act'ally looks kinda confused's t'why'm a li'l surly 'bout churches. You getta few preachers goadin' folks inta throwin' rocks atcha 'r talkin' 'bout burnin' y'at th'stake, see how much y'like'em....but'e's a nice fella, 'n mebbe'is church's onna th'good ones. They's few 'n far b'tween, but'ey's out'ere. So mebbe. Gotta be halfway okay if'n'ey turned'is fella out, I 'spose.

"Would've preferred me to get married, have a few kids, take over the farm, I reckon. But they're used to it now, and I see them when I can. You got any family?"

"....well, really depends whatcha mean by fam'ly," I says after a minute. Take a long drag on m'cig. "If'n y'mean do I gotta man who shot some jizz inta a lady 't turned inta me an' 're 'ere folks got made'a th'same jizz outta th'same cunt, then I 'spose'ey might be 'live, but ain't seen none'a'em since I joined up." Nor do I fuckin' care to. "If'n y'mean do I got folk't watch out fer me...'en yeah. Look after somma th'younger girls, gotta few friends...we like t'think'a th'Carnival like a big ol' fam'ly, but even wit'at'ere's some folks't're special, y'know?" Reckon'e getsit.

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

Syl's all defensive on the subject of family, and I reckon it's a sore spot. Best not to push it too much. But I know what she means, about the folk in her life.

"Bit like that at the abbey," I say. "About fifty of us there, and we all work together, day after day, and the place don't work if each bloke or bird don't pull their weight. Creates something like a family, that, the sweat of our brow and the breaking of bread. But there's a few people I'm closer to, even so. Good friends, good family to have. Sometimes feel a bit guilty, though, that I don't see my parents and my sis that much." Dunno why I'm telling Syl this, but hell, it's not a secret. "They're good folk, too. Just going on in their lives in a different way from me, is all." Smile at her. "So you're not shacked up then with some guy or girl, looking after a bunch of kids, then?"

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

Jes' like I thought, 'e getsit. "Bit like that at the abbey. About fifty of us there, and we all work together, day after day, and the place don't work if each bloke or bird don't pull their weight. Creates something like a family, that, the sweat of our brow and the breaking of bread. But there's a few people I'm closer to, even so. Good friends, good family to have. Sometimes feel a bit guilty, though, that I don't see my parents and my sis that much." Still smilin', though. "So you're not shacked up then with some guy or girl, looking after a bunch of kids, then?"

....oh, well somebody's bloody perceptive. Known some priests had th'empathy of a fuckin' stump, buttis one's got me t'rights already. "Na, no fella." 'less y'count th'one I let fuck me ev'ry once inna while even though'e's act'ally datin' a psycho monster...'r th'fella't says'e's' int'rested but won't make a fuckin' move. 'r Verdi, but really, 'at's jes' friendly. "I got kids t'look after, but ain't none ovvem mine. Jes' kinda look after somma th'girls on th'Lot, 'spec'ally those't ain't got no fam'ly'a their own. C'n be tough ferra young chick on'er own 'round'ere." Shit, why'm I tellin'im 'bout'is shit? Don't us'ally talk like'is t'folks I met five fuckin' minutes ago.

"You must be hell in th'confess'onal, preacher," I says, stubbin' out m'cig.

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

Looks a bit startled, and I wonder if I've crossed a line, but hell, it'd be worse to assume she just likes blokes, wouldn't it? Can't always guess what people like, nowadays, and it's not like it matters much to me, one way or the other. So long as people are kind to one another, what bits they've got to rub together are much of a muchness, or so I reckon.

"I got kids t'look after, but ain't none ovvem mine. Jes' kinda look after somma th'girls on th'Lot, 'spec'ally those't ain't got no fam'ly'a their own. C'n be tough ferra young chick on'er own 'round'ere."

"Reckon so," I say, nodding. "Road's not an easy life, from what I hear. S'pose they are your kids, then, in a way, even if you didn't - what did you say - get them out of some guy's jizz in your cunt," I say, and flash her a grin.

"You must be hell in th'confess'onal, preacher," Syl continues, stubbing out her cigarette.

I laugh.

"Don't go much in for confessions," I say. "But you do my job long enough, you start seeing a bit about people. And people do tell me a lot about their dreams. Funny the amount you can figure out about how stuff works from that." I smile at her. "Say, want to show me where I can get a corndog or something round here? Cotton candy's nice, but it's not exactly stuff to get a body together."

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

'e nods, "Reckon so. Road's not an easy life, from what I hear. S'pose they are your kids, then, in a way, even if you didn't - what did you say - get them out of some guy's jizz in your cunt," an'e grins.

Dammit, find m'self likin'is fella. Mosta th'folk I talk to like'at get all flustered 'n such. Even'ose 't don't ain't willin' t'give back. Only one's've found 't give's good's'ey get 'r Tez 'n Faith. An' now 'is fella. "Like t'think ovvem's mine, yeah," I says, noddin', "sometimes 'm all'ey got. But'ey's good kids, all ovvem." Even if Zann ain't talkin' t'me no more.

"Don't go much in for confessions. But you do my job long enough, you start seeing a bit about people. And people do tell me a lot about their dreams. Funny the amount you can figure out about how stuff works from that. Say, want to show me where I can get a corndog or something round here? Cotton candy's nice, but it's not exactly stuff to get a body together."

....y'know, this's th'sorta thin' I warn m'girls t'never fuckin' do, but reckon I c'n hold m'own 'gainst a preacher man. Anyway, like 'is guy, an'm pretty good 't readin' folks by now. An' fuck, ain't like anythin's happ'nin'ere.

Kitty's got th'stall cross from mine; pull th'flappa m'tent closed 'n signal t'er back in ten. She nods 'n goes back t'er work.

"Food tents're 'round'is way," I says. "Dunno if'n a corndog 'll holda body t'gether...from what've heard 'bout'em more likely t'greak yer gut...but reckon we c'n findya somethin'." We start walkin'. "So preacher-man...ain't seen ya 'round'ere b'fore. First time on th'Lot?"

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

"sometimes 'm all'ey got. But'ey's good kids, all ovvem."

This one's a good'un, I think, for all her hard talk. Yeah, I like this Syl.

"Dunno if'n a corndog 'll holda body t'gether...from what've heard 'bout'em more likely t'greak yer gut...but reckon we c'n findya somethin'."

Syl looks over at a friend and signals to her. Reckon she's making sure someone knows who she's with, and I could be offended but given what's been going on in town lately, I don't blame her for being cautious, not a bit.

"I've got an iron constitution," I say with a grin. "Which is to say, I can eat almost anything. Bit like a goat, I am." We walk along to the food tents, and I smell all kinds of greasy goodness. My stomach rumbles. I love the abbey's food, and it's all very wholesome, but sometimes a body just needs a bit of fatty goodness.

"So preacher-man...ain't seen ya 'round'ere b'fore. First time on th'Lot?"

"Been a couple of times back when you first came to town," I say. "But I was in me civvies back then - you know, off duty wear. I s'pose you do," I say, nodding at her witch wear. Hope she don't dress like that day to day or our pleasant chat might be fucked. "Not been for a while, though. Surprised you folk are still in town."

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

"I've got an iron constitution," 'e says's we wander on over t'th'food tents. "Which is to say, I can eat almost anything. Bit like a goat, I am." Like't knows we's talking 'bout it, 'is stomach sets t'growling. Sounds like a hungry fuckin' bear. Can't help smilin'.

"Well, there's plenty t'test it out on," I says, "Mosta th'vendors'ere 'r pretty clean...jes' don't ask 'bout somma th'meat't goes inta th'sausage." Ol' Jim 'ears me 'n gives me a dirty look. 'e c'n go t'fuckin' hell; I seen 'm c'llectin' rats. "Corn dogs izzere, we got some burgers too, an'ey's good," thanks t'Slaughterman. Eat'em m'self once inna while, since I know where'ey's comin' from.

"But I was in me civvies back then - you know, off duty wear. I s'pose you do," 'e says, lookin' at me, an'I nod. "Not been for a while, though. Surprised you folk are still in town."

"Well..." I says, sighin'. Fuck, we's 'ere. Stop by onna th'beer tents ferra pint; Clay sees me comin'n gets onna th'good mugs, th'ones wit'out th'false, shallow bottoms. "That there's a bit ovvan issue, so it is."

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

Get myself a burger and ask for all the trimmings. Might as well go all out, eh?

"Want one?" I ask. Seems a bit rude not to offer since Syl's standing here with me. I bite into it, and ketchup and pickle squelches in my mouth along with some fairly decent meat. I sigh happily and then chew.

We sit down at a beer tent, and Syl gets the kind of look I've seen before - when someone's about to tell you some bad news.

"That there's a bit ovvan issue, so it is."

"That so?" I say, resting my burger in its wrapper on the table. "Been hearing some funny things about this place, I'll admit," I say. "And about town, too. Bad moon rising," I say, and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My mum has a phrase for that. Goose walking over my grave. Yeah, I hope I don't see my grave for a while yet.

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

Smart man, goes fer th'burgers. Qual'ty'a th'burgers've really gone up since we started gettin' meat from Slaughterman. So when'e turns t'me 'n asks if'n I want one, I says sure. Why th'hell not? Ain't gonna get dinner ferranother few hours, an' ey sure smell good. Nod an' say, "Thanks. Right nice'a ya." Greaser slaps down 'nother burder fer me. 'e knows how I like'em. "Hey, y'wanna beer? If'n ye're gettin' th'food, c'n't least getcha a drink. Only fair."

Once we get our food we go t'sit down atta table. an've jes' taken a bite outta m'burger when I get't've said too bloody much, cuz'e's settin'is food down'n lookin' at me. "That so? Been hearing some funny things about this place, I'll admit," I say. "And about town, too. Bad moon rising."

"Bad moon risin'." I says. Name ovvan old song. Knew a girl liked t'dance to it. Always kinda gave me th'creeps even if'n it sounds real cheery-like. "Yeah. Gooda term's any." Can't really talk th'details, really fuckin' can't...but mosta th'town knows somethin's fucked by now. "C'n tellya ain't our dec'sion t'stay'ere. S'bout all I c'n say." Mmm, burgers 'r good.

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

"Cheers," I say, taking the beer.

"C'n tellya ain't our dec'sion t'stay'ere. S'bout all I c'n say."

I nod thoughtfully.

"Won't push you to tell a secret that's not yours to tell, Syl," I say. "But yeah, there's been enough talk in town it's even reached the abbey. Lot of weird stuff, like gods walking around." Glance at her and smile a bit. "You'd think given my job that'd be something I'd find less surprising, yeah?" I take a slurp of the beer. It's not bad. "And everything comes back to that," I say, jerking my head northwards to the tower. Found lately I don't like talking about it, or even really looking at it. "Lived here my whole life and for most of it that tower was just an old water tower, mostly just a health hazard we told the kids to stay away from in case it fell down. But I think we've got more to worry about now than falling bricks," I say. Dunno how much Syl knows about the tower. Don't want to scare her. Then again, she might know more than me. Carnies have a way of knowing about dangerous places. Got to, I suppose, so they stay alive.

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

Takes th'beer; guess'ere ain't no rules'gainst drinkin', even if'e can't fuck. 'at's somethin', I guess....wonder which I'd pick if'n I hadta. Guess't depends if'n y'still get t'jerk off.

"Won't push you to tell a secret that's not yours to tell, Syl. But yeah, there's been enough talk in town it's even reached the abbey. Lot of weird stuff, like gods walking around. You'd think given my job that'd be something I'd find less surprising, yeah? And everything comes back to that," jerks'is head t'wards m'favourite place in th'whole wide world, Mr. Psycho Monster's bedroom. "Lived here my whole life and for most of it that tower was just an old water tower, mostly just a health hazard we told the kids to stay away from in case it fell down. But I think we've got more to worry about now than falling bricks,"

Oh, well ain't that int'restin'. "We know 'bout th'tower," I says after a minute, "got our own way'a fig'rin'ese sorta thin's out...an' yeah, s'a good parta th'reason why we ain't goin' nowhere." Ain't prepared t'go inta more detail'n'at, but fuck, mebbe 'e c'n gimme summore info on alla'is, yeah? "...when'd it start gettin' funny, 'zactly?" Cuzz'm wond'rin' if'n th'tower goin' weird didn't start when we came...'r somethin' else triggered it....

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

Syl gives me a considering sort of look. Reckon she knows a thing or two.

"...when'd it start gettin' funny, 'zactly?"

"Hard to say," I say, thoughtfully. "One of those things you don't really notice until it's been weird a while, you know? Like one day you look at it and think shit, that's strange but it's probably been like that for weeks..." I scratch my beard. "Thinking on it... Probably a year, maybe more. Started cropping up now and again in my dreams about then, but not often enough for me to pay much mind to it. Maybe I should've," I say, with a frown. "But... Not saying you folk had anything to do with it, but I think it got weirder when the carnival arrived." I think. "Was about then that lots of people had the dream. Did any of the carnival folk have it? Red and blue cities?" I say. "That was a weird experience. My goddess brought the dream, but to what end apart from to warn us of the bad shit in the tower, I dunno." Pause and wonder about what I'm saying next, but hell, Syl's suggested she's seen stuff, and she don't seem like the type to up and faint. "Other weird stuff going on too. Somone raised the dead out in the cemetery. Didn't go well." Pause again. "Been told the Devil lives in the tower. Wasn't even minded to believe in him before all this, but now... When I dream of the water tower, it looks like dead flesh." Shiver a bit at the memory of that.

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

'e frowns. "Hard to say. One of those things you don't really notice until it's been weird a while, you know? Like one day you look at it and think shit, that's strange but it's probably been like that for weeks..." Nod, cuzzi do get'at... "Thinking on it... Probably a year, maybe more. Started cropping up now and again in my dreams about then, but not often enough for me to pay much mind to it. Maybe I should've."

...an' fuck, this's better'n I'd hoped. So far, only person from town I really talked 'bout th'Tower wit's Slaughterman, 'n'e's almost's new's us. Good t'hear alla'is from somebody't's always been'ere. Fer one, had no fuckin' clue't th'Psycho Monster jes moved in. Kinda thought'e'd always been'ere.

"But... Not saying you folk had anything to do with it, but I think it got weirder when the carnival arrived. Was about then that lots of people had the dream. Did any of the carnival folk have it? Red and blue cities?"

Red 'n blue? "Naw," I says, thinkin'. "think somma th'seers've had funny dreams, 'spec'ally 'bout th'Tower, but ain't heard nothin' 'bout red'n blue cities." Might be somethin' t'ask th'twins about, though..."

"That was a weird experience. My goddess brought the dream, but to what end apart from to warn us of the bad shit in the tower, I dunno. Other weird stuff going on too. Someone raised the dead out in the cemetery. Didn't go well. Been told the Devil lives in the tower. Wasn't even minded to believe in him before all this, but now... When I dream of the water tower, it looks like dead flesh."

"Yer goddess sends ya dreams, then?" Don't s'prise me much. Sometimes th'spirits talk t'ya in weird ways. Done rit'als m'self t'call fer dreams, fer guidance 'r proph'cy. Gotta be real spec'fic 'bout whatcha want 'n which spirit ye're askin, though, 'r else thin's c'n get fucked up. "'n hate t'tell ya'is, Kam, but th'Devil does live innat tower. 'r at least close 'nough. S'big an's mean, annit don't got th'best intent'ons." Take 'nother bite'a burger 'n swigga beer. "Tried t'take a closer look't it m'self, magic-like. Made me regret it."

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

"think somma th'seers've had funny dreams, 'spec'ally 'bout th'Tower, but ain't heard nothin' 'bout red'n blue cities."

"A lot of people in town had the same dream," I say. "One where Excolo was a great city, but it burned, and the other where it was a prosperous and peaceful place."

"Yer goddess sends ya dreams, then?"

"Yeah," I say. "Sometimes out of the blue, but mostly I've got to work for them. Ritual stuff - take some herbs, fast..." I look down at what's left of my burger. "Which you can probably tell isn't my favourite thing to do," I say with a grin.

"'n hate t'tell ya'is, Kam, but th'Devil does live innat tower. 'r at least close 'nough. S'big an's mean, annit don't got th'best intent'ons."

"Fuck," I say despondently. If several unconnected people are convinced about the truth of it, looks like Shaitan lives in the tower. Bollocks and fuckery.

"Tried t'take a closer look't it m'self, magic-like. Made me regret it."

Now that makes me perk up curiously.

"So you can do that? Wasn't sure if your magic was real - no offence, Syl. We've had a few women through town who claimed to be witches - mostly selling coloured water to silly girls, and to be honest I didn't begrudge them making a living, cos living on the road isn't an easy life. But you've really got it, eh?" I grin. "Nice to know there are decent folk who've got a bit of power to them, given what's been going on in town. So what did you see?" I ask curiously.

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

"A lot of people in town had the same dream. One where Excolo was a great city, but it burned, and the other where it was a prosperous and peaceful place."

Huh. Mass dreams. Tha's a new one. Mass halluc'nations, mass visions, sure, but mass dreams...reckon'ere gotta be a god'r somethin'a th'like b'hind it. "Naw, ain't'ad nothin' 'long'ose lines...y'got any idea what it means?" Fig'rin' either two poss'ble futures 'r folk on two sep'rate sides, ain't sure which.

Ask 'bout'is own dreams, an'e nods, "Yeah. Sometimes out of the blue, but mostly I've got to work for them. Ritual stuff - take some herbs, fast...Which you can probably tell isn't my favourite thing to do,"

Way'e's eatin', bet not. Kinda grin. "Sounds like what I do. I ain't a nat'ral seer, so I gotta take shit if'n I want dreams'r visions, but sounds like 'bout what I do." Wonder if'n we use th'same herbs 'n potions.

'e looks down when I say th'Devil's in th'Tower....not really surprised, so'm bettin'e figured'em rumours weren't really rumours. But'e perks when I talk 'bout gettin'a look at th'Tower.
"So you can do that? Wasn't sure if your magic was real - no offence, Syl. We've had a few women through town who claimed to be witches - mostly selling coloured water to silly girls, and to be honest I didn't begrudge them making a living, cos living on the road isn't an easy life. But you've really got it, eh? Nice to know there are decent folk who've got a bit of power to them, given what's been going on in town. So what did you see?"

Decent folk? Raise m'eyebrow a bit at'at, but'en, we jes' met. "Oh, yeah, I c'n do'at. Don't get me wrong, sell m'share'a coloured water t'th'farmgirls 'n dry grass t'th'boys't wanna li'l perk in'eir pants..." tear a chunka meat offa m'burger, lay it on th'table, sprinkle a bitta powder from my'pocket onnit...an' split second later swarmin' wit'bitin' flies. "But I got power too." I says, still smilin'.

Flies buzz off once th'meat's gone. Ain't gonna bother us. "Didn't getta chance t'see much, t'be honest....jes' 'nough t'know th'whole town's innit's shadow, 'n th'Lot too." an's parta wha's keepin'us here, but ain't sure I should be tellin'im'at yet.

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

"Naw, ain't'ad nothin' 'long'ose lines...y'got any idea what it means?"

"Pretty much figure that if people choose whatever the Tower wants, we're fucked," I say frankly, sipping my beer. It gets better the further down the glass I get. "I think the blue city is what Excolo could be with the help of my goddess," I say. "Nanshe, she wants this to be a peaceful place. Good crops, safety for the vulnerable, all that. Nothing fancy. Just good, you know?" I smile a bit. "I hope we can figure out how to get it."

"Oh, yeah, I c'n do'at. Don't get me wrong, sell m'share'a coloured water t'th'farmgirls 'n dry grass t'th'boys't wanna li'l perk in'eir pants..."

I laugh at that.

"Most of the boys in town could do with less perk, I reckon, but I know what you mean."

Syl tears off a bit of meat, and I watch her sprinkle something on it. A second later flies are all over it, and I stare at it.

"Buggeration, that's quite something," I say. "And also, may I add, pretty bloody gross," I say, watching them devour the meat and then sod off. "Did you conjure them, or summon them?" I say, curious. I mean, it's still pretty impressive (and nasty) if she can summon flies, but even more impressive (and gross) if she can create them out of thin air. Think overall I preferred Kaeli's flower trick. This town is fucking mental.

"Didn't getta chance t'see much, t'be honest....jes' 'nough t'know th'whole town's innit's shadow, 'n th'Lot too."

"Yeah," I say sadly. "Figured that much myself. Had a couple of visions, but they didn't make much sense. Will have to try fasting again soon." I stare at the burger ruefully.

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

"Pretty much figure that if people choose whatever the Tower wants, we're fucked," Notice'e's nearly done'is beer. Signal fer another round. "I think the blue city is what Excolo could be with the help of my goddess, Nanshe, she wants this to be a peaceful place. Good crops, safety for the vulnerable, all that. Nothing fancy. Just good, you know? I hope we can figure out how to get it."

Ah, so tha's who'e's servin'. Seems t'me if'n she wuz really allat nice she'd let'er priests have sex, but whatever. "An' wha's she want in return?" I ask, payin' Bessie when she brings th'beers 'round. "No 'ffense, Preacher-man, but from what've seen gods always want somethin' in 'schange ferall th'sweetness 'n light 'n harps 'n clouds 'n tra la la la."

Likes m'li'l fly trick, though. Easy, really....bugs ain't hard t'control. Ain't like'ey got much in th'way'a minds. Y'tell'em "food's here" an'ey come. "Buggeration, that's quite something," I say. "And also, may I add, pretty bloody gross. Did you conjure them, or summon them?"

"Summon," I says. "Don't b'lieve nobody't says'ey c'n create life, less'n's yer goddess. Really ain't fuckin' poss'ble, 'least not've seen. 'at spontan'ous gen'ration shit's jest 'at." Coulda called jes' 'bout anythin'...meat made flies easiest...if'n'd had somethin' sweet coulda been ants 'r bees 'r butterflies...

"Yeah. Figured that much myself. Had a couple of visions, but they didn't make much sense. Will have to try fasting again soon." Loon onnis face makes me laugh. Looks like'a puppy's dinner's bein' held outta reach.

"Really need t'fast, y'think?" I says, takin'a sip'a beer. "Most times th'right comb'nation'a herbs'n shit'll do fer me...whatcha use?"

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

Syl asks me what Nanshe wants, and I laugh.

"Straight to the point, aren't you, mate? Yeah, all gods want something. But I think Nanshe's not much of a taskmistress as some. She wants worship, really. Offerings of prayer, flowers, food. Those are tokens, really, symbols of what she wants - respect and remembrance. Especially nowadays when most of her fellow gods are forgotten," I say, feeling a pang of sadness for my goddess. "There are some of us who are called to dedicate our lives to her, like I am," I say. "But I see that as a privilege, not a burden, even if it's hard at times..." I smile. "Of course, you'd reckon I'm biased, and you'd be right to. But have a poke around the church sometime if you want, see what you think of it." Can't imagine Syl going in for worshipping my lady, but maybe she'd like to know a bit more about her all the same.

Syl tells me she summoned the insects and I nod.

"Still impressive," I say. "So's it something innate, being able to do that, or can anyone learn it? Or a bit inbetween? My dream reading's sort of both," I say. "Pretty much anyone with some time and half a brain can learn the dream vocabulary, and quite a lot of dreams you can induce with drugs, but not that many people actually manage to read the things all that well." Smile a bit. "Always did have vivid dreams, ever since I was a kid. Reckon that's one reason Nanshe, peace be upon her, noticed me."

Then Syl asks if I need to fast, and I grin.

"Well, I use vervain, valerian, hops and wild lettuce, mostly. Decoct them myself so's I know exactly what's in them. Not that I don't trust the apothecary, but I prefer to make my own, you know? Found that with those in high doses, plus not eating for a day, day and a half, I usually get pretty fucking vivid dreams. I know there's more potent stuff I could use, but no one at the abbey's experienced in the more dangerous herbs, and I'll admit I've been a bit worried I'd go poison myself." I smile at her. "Got any ideas?"

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

Well, 'e's gotta sensa humour 'bout'is god, which's more'n I c'n say fer mosta th'priests've run across. "Straight to the point, aren't you, mate? Yeah, all gods want something. But I think Nanshe's not much of a taskmistress as some. She wants worship, really. Offerings of prayer, flowers, food. Those are tokens, really, symbols of what she wants - respect and remembrance. Especially nowadays when most of her fellow gods are forgotten," I say, feeling a pang of sadness for my goddess. "There are some of us who are called to dedicate our lives to her, like I am," I say. "But I see that as a privilege, not a burden, even if it's hard at times..."

Don't see servin' nobody's any sorta priv'lege, but'at's me.

"Of course, you'd reckon I'm biased, and you'd be right to. But have a poke around the church sometime if you want, see what you think of it."

"Might do," I says, noddin'. Don't go much in fer gods m'self, but if'n we's goin' fer mythology reckon'is chick's 'bout's close t'an enemy'a Mr. Psycho Monster's we's like t'get. Might not be a bad idea t'take a look.

"So's it something innate, being able to do that, or can anyone learn it? Or a bit inbetween? My dream reading's sort of both. Pretty much anyone with some time and half a brain can learn the dream vocabulary, and quite a lot of dreams you can induce with drugs, but not that many people actually manage to read the things all that well. Always did have vivid dreams, ever since I was a kid. Reckon that's one reason Nanshe, peace be upon her, noticed me."

"Ain't real sure, t'be honest," I says, thinkin'a Tess. "Me, I jes' picked it up...liked th'sound ovvit, d'cided t'try, found out I could. Kinda figured anybody could, if'n'ey set'eir mind t'it...but now've met girls't say's passed down through'eir fam'lies, so mebbe's both. Lord knows nonna th'ladies in m'fam'ly showed no sign, but'ey didn't have no teachers neither."

Ask'im what'e uses fer dreamin', an'e smiles. "Well, I use vervain, valerian, hops and wild lettuce, mostly. Decoct them myself so's I know exactly what's in them. Not that I don't trust the apothecary, but I prefer to make my own, you know? Found that with those in high doses, plus not eating for a day, day and a half, I usually get pretty fucking vivid dreams. I know there's more potent stuff I could use, but no one at the abbey's experienced in the more dangerous herbs, and I'll admit I've been a bit worried I'd go poison myself. Got any ideas?"

"Us'ally I go in more fer vis'ons'n dreams," I says, "But some places think'ey's 'bout th'same...use peyote a lot, when I c'n get m'hands onnit, 'r else mushrooms. Smoke's also real good, 've found. Burn th'right herbs, really getcha inta th'good headspace." Tilt m'head t'one side. "I know most herbs, 'less we's talkin' real 'xotic shit...what dangerous shit y'thinkin' of?"

This jes' might be fun.

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

"Me, I jes' picked it up...liked th'sound ovvit, d'cided t'try, found out I could. Kinda figured anybody could, if'n'ey set'eir mind t'it...but now've met girls't say's passed down through'eir fam'lies, so mebbe's both. Lord knows nonna th'ladies in m'fam'ly showed no sign, but'ey didn't have no teachers neither."

I nod.

"Might be a bit of both luck and effort on your part that makes you good at it," I say. "Luck in that you happen to have a natural knack for it, but from what you say, like my dreams it's not something you can do without effort." Find I like talking to Syl about this. We don't work in the same way at all, but there's enough similarities it's sort of interesting. There's a few people at the abbey as does herb work and is interested in visions - not surprising, given Nanshe's role - but it's nice to get an outside perspective.

"I know most herbs, 'less we's talkin' real 'xotic shit...what dangerous shit y'thinkin' of?"

"Well, I tried out calea z-something... A herb that comes from down south," I say. "Bought some dried leaves a while back," I say. "Don't think it's dangerous really, but it made me want to puke my fucking guts out. I'm wary of mushrooms, cos I dunno if I'd be able to trust them - they make everyone see weird shit, you know? So it'd be harder to tell if I was really getting anything real. Have read that datura gives hallucinations - might be the same problem as with mushrooms, but I've got some papers on a ritual use of it that might make it more reliable for dream purposes. But the guide don't got any quantities - not helpful, cos I know that shit can kill... Same thing with belladonna, which we've actually got growing here cos it's useful for the infirmary - you know, sedation and such. But I tried taking it in a small quantity and it did fuck all, and I don't know enough about prepping it to not poison myself with something more." I smile. "Maybe you could teach me a bit? Got a few herbalists at the abbey, but they mostly know about stuff like feverfew and such, the reliable medicinal herbs."

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

"Might be a bit of both luck and effort on your part that makes you good at it. Luck in that you happen to have a natural knack for it, but from what you say, like my dreams it's not something you can do without effort."

"Ain't nothin' comes without effort, preacher," I says, "Some thin's....y'lovvem 'nough attit c'n feel like'ere ain't no effort t'it, butcha gotta put th'work in jes' th'same, right?" Reckon'e understands.

"Well, I tried out calea z-something... A herb that comes from down south. Bought some dried leaves a while back. Don't think it's dangerous really, but it made me want to puke my fucking guts out. I'm wary of mushrooms, cos I dunno if I'd be able to trust them - they make everyone see weird shit, you know? So it'd be harder to tell if I was really getting anything real. Have read that datura gives hallucinations - might be the same problem as with mushrooms, but I've got some papers on a ritual use of it that might make it more reliable for dream purposes. But the guide don't got any quantities - not helpful, cos I know that shit can kill... Same thing with belladonna, which we've actually got growing here cos it's useful for the infirmary - you know, sedation and such. But I tried taking it in a small quantity and it did fuck all, and I don't know enough about prepping it to not poison myself with something more. Maybe you could teach me a bit? Got a few herbalists at the abbey, but they mostly know about stuff like feverfew and such, the reliable medicinal herbs."

Well, 'at's quite th'list'ere. "First off, don't fuck wit' Datura less'n y'really know whatcher doin'. Too many bloody var'ables...species matters, so does how old th'plant is, where's been growin', right down t'th'fuckin' weather. Fuck up wit' Datura 'n ye're a dead man." Take a swigga beer, "I done some work wit' Datura b'fore...c'n take a look't whatcha got, see if'n's onna th'kinds I know 'n giveya some 'dvice, cuzzit is real good fer vis'ons...but otherwise don't touch't. Too bloody risky.

Munch m'burger while I think, "Now 'shrooms, I like 'shrooms. 'mean, let's face it, anythin' y'use fer dreams 'r vis'ons 's gonna make anybody see weird shit. 'shrooms're gentler'n datura 'r mosta th'other shit out'ere...won't takeya's deep, sure, but near 'mposs'ble t'kill yerself wit'em, 'n c'n still get some useful stuff offa'em. Whatcha gotta do's make sure y'do th'right rit'als b'forehand, get th'right spir'ts t'pay 'ttention, get yerself in th'right headspace." Grin a bit, "Plus, they's fun." Trippin' on 'shrooms's always fun, even if'n I y'don't see nothin' useful.

"Now th'calea...that there's some nice shit fer dreamin'. Natives call it 'dream herb', oughta giveya a clue." 'member gettin' m'hands on somma'at few years back when we wuz down south...good stuff. "Putsya'n real good headpsace, nice'n mellow. An' ain't near's dang'rous's mosta th'other shit out'ere. What'd ya try, makin' tea?" Smile when'e nods. "Yeah, tha's th'trad'tion, but sure does taste lousy, 'n't c'n makeya sick too. Y'c'n try smokin' it, tha's a li'l easier...m'fav'rite's makin' a tincture. Alcohol soothes yer stomach, helps t'relax ya 'n cuts th'taste. Also getsya more bang fer yer buck. How much ya got left?" Damn, first Tess, now'is guy. Startin' t'get used t'talkin shop.

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

Listen intently while Syl talks. Reckon she really knows her shit, which is nice. Could be good to have some help from someone as has got a bit of experience.

"Yeah, I made a tea," I say. "Dunno much about doing other stuff... Maybe you should show me how to make a tincture? I've got enough left to make a few cups of tea - would have to weigh it to know how much. Reckon that'd be enough to make a tincture?" I ask. "Could let you take some stuff from our herb garden if you wanted in exchange," I say. "Nothing too unusual in there, but got more than you'll find in the fields round here," I say. Always did prefer to exchange rather than buy; barter's something you can rely on. And it's not like the abbey uses much cash, anyway.

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

'e asks me how t'make a tincture, 'n I nod. "Ain't so hard, jes' takes a few days. Gotta get some strong booze 'n a sealed container, lettit sit ferra few days...pretty simple, really. Happy t'come 'round 'n help, 'spec'ally if'n ye'll let me have h'pick'a yer garden." Sure's hell could use sommore shit since we's stuck'ere. "Whenever y'want me t'come by's fine. Happy t'sit witcha if'n y'wanna do th'vis'on thin' too." Helps t'havva second, sometimes, someone t'watch yer back if'n thin's get funky.

[nansekam.livejournal.com]

"Would be nice," I say to Syl. "Always good to have someone around in case shit goes down," I add. "And I like having a bit of company." I smile at her. "Stop by any day," I say. "You show up at lunchtime, you can probably get some soup out of it and all," I add with a grin. "We have good soup." I stand up and put a hand on her shoulder. "Been really good to meet you, Syl." And it has been. Looks like I might have made a good friend, and I reckon that can't ever be bad.

[syl-thorn.livejournal.com]

Gotta admit, I like'is fella. Preadher, sure, but onna th'real nice ones, onna th'ones't really b'lieves what'e's sayin' 'n tries t'live by whattis book says. C'n respect'at even if'n I don't agree. Don't got no problem wit' comin' by th'help'im out, 'spec'ally not if'n'ey's willin' t'feed me. "Sounds good t'me, preacher. Make it a point t'come by someday soon."

Stands up 'n touches m'shoulder when's time t'go. Don't normally like bein' touched by strangers, buttis fella's okay. 'n pretty. Pretty helps. "Been good t'meetchou too," I says, downin' th'last'a m'beer. Been way more'n ten minutes, 'n Kitty's likely gettin' worried. "Walk ya's far's m'tent, an'll see ya soon."