11 - Control Room

//--GM
As you finally sleep deeply enough to dream, you are visited by those odd flashes of color and sound once more, but this time, they become somewhat coherent. The randomness coalesces into a hexagonal pattern of primary colors; like a fly eye camera at a very low resolution. Eventually you are able to make sense of the primitive visual, finding yourself in some sort of control room. The 'you' in this dream is little more than a white pointer, but you do feel that you can interact with the controls. On the panel before you, there are four dials; two numbered by fives from 5 to 105 (with the span between 100 & 105 in red instead of yellow), and two numbered from 0 to 10 by ones (with no 'warning stripe' range). The first two dials are set to '52' and '68' while the other pair are both at '5'. There are doorways to either side of the control panel, sturdy but unlocked. In the distance, you feel very subtle connections between this place and your entire body. Are you really dreaming, or is this something else altogether?

//--Helena
I don't know, but I try to keep awareness of this dream or vision and awaken enough to become aware of Saras, warm against my back. If I can feel him, I move a little against him and hold the hand of his covering arm more tightly. Trying to speak out from this dream place, I say (whether out loud or in my head, as I probably can't tell which happens), "Join my dream, Saras. See this." Neither the movement nor the voice carries a sexual tone, but it is not a panic, either.

//--GM
It is very difficult to keep your grip on the dream and move at all (Chaos level Psyche, after all) but you think maybe he felt your plea. However, you don't feel his presence here. Is this place too 'small,' too 'primal,' or did he just not hear?

//--Helena
Not knowing if he can hear me, or if he will be successful in "seeing," I continue to look at the place, memorizing it, getting a feel for it. If he doesn't get here, I want a thorough mental look at this carrying feeling, sound, vision... every possible sense of the place to show him when I awaken. After that, I sense out the long connection between it and myself; can I sense a distance or direction from it to me?

//--GM
The representation is VERY primitive - barely visual, and you think the only auditory components might be the occasional confirmation beep or something similar. It is fairly easy to memorize... and some of the visual patterns feel oddly familiar. Perhaps... it might relate to some of the entry-level mental compartmentalization training (which you essentially flunked, btw) that you took at the Jesby Finer Shift Arts Academy.

//--Helena
How is it similar to that? I won't think too hard on it now, but try to remember the question for when I can consider it awake.

//--GM
The stuff you barely understood then might be the elementary school version of this doctorate-level college course, if you catch my drift, but it does give you some of the terminology to describe what you think this might be.

This 'room' seems most connected to your endocrine system. You sense ties to your adrenals, to the assorted message glands of the brain, and to your digestive and reproductive systems. If you had to trust your intuition, you might guess that these 'settings' are tied to the weakness and lag you've been feeling, but which does what you don't know. There are no threads leading outside your body that you are aware of, and no other mental presences at the end of these lines within you. However, there seems to be some sort of major information trunk leading into the room on the right, and some connection between your skin and the room on the left.

//--Helena
Can I follow these lines? I try to move my perception to the other places, first to the right, and then to the left.

//--GM
Moving takes you into the virtual rooms, as the actual lines are too gossamer to support your consciousness, even at this low a 'resolution.' The connections are threaded out through perhaps one nerve cell in a hundred, impossible for an outside consciousness to locate, let alone trace.

The room to the right looks like some sort of small sound stage, with a platform for the performer and a dangling cable to connect them to the greater system. You think you could store something here, and have it influence your greater actions somehow... but the specifics of operating the system escape you. Is it meant for a personality emulation, a summoned spirit, a daemon, a subordinate mind?

The room to the left looks like a small storeroom, with neat shelves prepared for perhaps a few thousand little boxes. Only a hundred or so are filled here. There are numbers and symbols. The numbers repeat enough to think that there are three groups, and the third group seems to be the most populous. Odd as it seems from the visual representation, perhaps these boxes are a part of the machine in the right room? Do the symbols represent assembly instructions, or part numbers at least?

//--Helena
I try to carefully take down a representative box from each group -- the "first" in each series if I can work that out -- and look inside.

//--GM
The first 'one' series representative feels like a cheer in a stadium when you examine it. 'Two' series first box feels like a handshake after a successful business deal. 'Three' feels like the clash of swords in a practice ring. As you consider the inventory, you think there are enough boxes in the One and Three series to construct... something, and the Three group has enough surplus parts for 'options'. Two feels like it's about a delivery short, but could maybe be used to put something sketchy together in a pinch.

There is a doorway connecting the two spaces off the control room, and then there is a final doorway at the back of the storeroom. This final doorway is locked tight with an indecipherable puzzle lock based on chemical sequences.

Still no sign of Saras, although you feel something changing 'above' this simulation, and the disruption might end the dream.

//--Helena
I focus hard on remembering what I'm sensing, in case the disruption does pull me out.

//--GM
You think that, so long as your focus remains firmly here, the perception will persist, but one more distraction or reaching would break you out, back to normal perception or dreaming. Do you do anything to remain or to break free?

//--Helena
I focus on remaining, as I am totally baffled and want to have *something* to bring back to Saras and explain my behavior. I go through a couple of the Series One boxes to try and get a feel for what I'm seeing, here, what purpose they serve.

//--GM
Opening more Series One boxes gives you flashes like 'scoring a goal,' 'rough sex under the stands,' along with some more abstract things like 'team first' and 'hard work brings victory.' They start to sound like the building blocks of a personality profile, or at least a response profile, based on someone's priorities and preferences. Assembled, the Series One boxes might be the emotional 'bait' for a sports star of some kind. Do you attempt to assemble them?

//--Helena
Serpent, yes. Or rather, I begin looking through more quickly for some clue to the target's identity.

//--GM
Sorting through, you'd say it was a Jorgumandr's defenseman... but without a program from a recent game, you couldn't come up with a name from these rough impressions. However, if you had to guess, it might be Kazik Bernath, the autograph on the new jersey you woke up in after the entity's romp. You haven't been following the game in recent years, but it would take very little research to confirm.

//--Helena
Sadly that's what I would have guessed.

//--GM
Are you planning to attempt similar detective work on the other two series? Are you assembling anything or trying anything other than sorting through sense impressions?

//--Helena
I will do a similar thing with the other two serie, yes, so far just sorting like I did with the first.

//--GM
The Second is incomplete, but it looks like it's intended to draw some fairly well placed member of Jesby nobility. The target could be mercantile or diplomatic, with an outside possibility of military or intelligence ties.

The Third is definitely a military target; someone with an appreciation for personal combat; honorable, experienced, and very skilled. He enjoys water sports, fishing, sea hunting, and sailing, with occasional forays into various forms of racing. Personality wise, he is careful without cowardice, deliberate without tenuousness, and passionate in an old-court-manners sort of way.

//--Helena
Anything on either of these that is specific enough to be used to label them in the waking world?

//--GM
A few questions when you awaken would likely confirm that the Third is Saras. The Second is too sketchy to nail down, but feels like someone you know.

//--Helena
The second feels like my dad; are there any questions I can think of to nail that down?

//--GM
If there was something in the boxes that spoke of Jesby, you could, because he is not unique in the Empire, but fairly unique in the House. Unfortunately, you found no such box to relieve (or confirm) your concerns.

//--Helena
Are these profiles for seduction or murder?

//--GM
Most likely for seduction; a strong underlying theme to the information here.

There seems to be some sort of reaction from the control board as you finish sorting through the boxes for the Third.

//--Helena
Unless it seems I'm right on the edge of seeing something important in my sorting, I let my attention drift back to the control room.

//--GM
As your view falls on the controls once more, you see that all your sorting through the boxes of the Third has influenced the dials. The first has jumped up almost forty points to 90 while the second has dropped almost as much to 32 and the third has slipped from five to four. Only the fourth dial is unchanged.

//--Helena
I go back into the profile room and carefully put everything back as I found it. With no other ideas (there were no other doorways besides the locked one, right?) I go and examine the lock carefully, trying to memorize what I can of it. If I think I've done everything I can without anything else changing, I will try to stay here and reach to feel if my body feels different, given the changes to the controls. If that wakes me up, so be it. If it doesn't, I will set things back the way they were before I started, and then wake up purposely if I can.

//--GM
As you reach toward your body, this room slips from your grasp, and suddenly you are not only free of the dream but awake. Saras still sleeps - either your motion to alert him was too slight, or perhaps merely dreamed. Your memory of what transpired feels firm enough in your mind, but there is no obvious effect in your body as of yet. Will you wake him, or let him sleep? It is only just past dawn now, and your union consumed a good deal of the night before.

//--Helena
I will let him sleep, but lie awake in the bed facing him, watching him breathe, for perhaps an hour.

//--GM
He is soundly asleep, exhausted by his efforts. You think you could disentangle yourself, if need be, but he will not awaken on his own any time soon.

//--Helena
I review what I have seen again now that I am awake, to fix it most firmly in my mind.

//--GM
You felt a brief urge (?) to forget, but your continued desire to retain what you experienced weathers the impulse, and then it passes. Your recall is still solid.

//--Helena
I check my body for signs of change, or for any release of its grasp on me.

//--GM
Your skin tone has slipped slightly toward 'her' (away from your natural shade), but otherwise you feel unaltered. Saras' alterations to (restoration of) your face and hair still seem firmly in place, and attempts to shift avail you nothing, although you experience no pain in trying this time. There is little room in the current close quarters of the bed to test anything else.

//--Helena
I do disentangle myself from him then. Sleep seems impossible. I put on a robe and pad out into the living room and call Boss to me and puzzle him greatly by taking him for a walk with me in the barely-dawn. I go to the edge of the pond at the bottom of the hills and listen to the birds wake while Boss goofs along the edge of the water. I briefly wish I'd brought coffee, but the rising sun is beautiful and the lack seems only a small inconvenience.

//--GM
Reality seems to offer you a respite here... what this might mean for the day ahead depends on if the glass is half-full for you.

//--Helena
When I think enough time has passed, I return to the house and Saras. If he still sleeps, I climb back into bed with him and work my way back into his arms, less careful about not waking him this time.

//--Saras
He stirs to encircle you, seeming intent on returning to sleep, but something in your demeanor persuades his eyes to open. His mind puts together that your subtle color change is not a trick of the light, and then he mutters, "Might I assume that this morning will not be just tea and paperwork?" He follows his grumble with a sleepy smile so you don't make too much of his protest.

//--Helena
"Of course not. Tea, paperwork and sex."

//--Saras
The sleepiness falls away from his expression in a smooth wave, as this suggestion must mirror exactly what he hoped for the morning.

//--GM
It's about then that you realize... you know exactly what his favorite breakfast tea tastes like. It's not a 'brand' you recognize, but you'd know it if you found it.

//--Helena
My thought that I could get through the morning on good cheer and physical distraction falls away. I push out of his arms and sit up on the bed; I can feel the distress on my face. "I'm sorry. I thought it could wait."

//--Saras
Saras carefully buries his disappointment; not denying it, but not letting it linger either. Gently, but with an undertone of honesty that you might appreciate, "It's all right; last night more than recharged my patience. What's happened?" He eases back just enough to let you decide when and how to touch him, sitting up with the blanket up to his waist.

//--Helena
"I ...discovered? I think... some remains of the being's habitation within me. There was a list of targets. You were one of them. The artifacts left there still affect me." I hold up my arms, wrists up, to indicate the skin tone.

//--Saras
Saras ignores the 'target' issue at first, concentrating on your more physical symptoms first. He takes your hands in his, very gently, asking, "May I see what is happening? It will be a little invasive, but not much... not like last time."

//--Helena
"This thing is no disorganized remnant of trauma, but a trained... agent of some kind."

//--Saras
"An agent... like your mother was just the vessel, somehow?" He seems uncomfortable with that theory, likely for every reason you would imagine.

//--Helena
"I don't know. It could be some combination of their abilities. I..." I look distraught. "I have no idea. It makes me think we really should return it to the JLS. But then that involves me, and you, and... fuck!

"I want this out of me. I want it gone. I want nothing left. I don't care if I never shape shift again, if I'm laid up in bed or dead. I want it OUT."

//--Saras
Saras withdraws his hands slowly, clamping down on the first few things that he might have said. He pauses, hands on knees, fingers curling into the blanket as if seeking purchase with his world spinning. At last, eyes downcast, "And if I refuse to be the instrument of your death?"

//--Helena
I turn to him, frustrated that he doesn't see past what I say, poor man. "I know you wouldn't. I am not saying I want that. But if what it means is you could do it if you did not have to worry about the collateral...

//--Saras
"If I had no concern for whether I crippled you or left you drooling, then yes, I could find a way to brick up whatever it is so it would never surface again. But I can't leave you that way until I've exhausted the other possibilities. Not before, and definitely not now."

//--Helena
"I don't want it bricked up. I want it taken out."

//--Saras
Biting back on his mounting frustration, "Then that is what I will try to do."

//--Helena
"Ah, dammit! Someone_knows how to... install this. Someone knows how to take it out again. So it's gripped onto my shape shifting. So what? Right now it controls me and it is not even actively inside me. Being stuck in some shape or forced to turn to shifting artists... artists like you... is no worse, and there's no guarantee that so bad an outcome would be the inevitable result."

//--Saras
Speaking frankly, "When you are calm enough to talk me through what has changed for the worse overnight, perhaps I can see to doing something. I get that you are willing to be crippled to be free. I understand. But I can do nothing, not even that, until I understand what you've discovered that makes this unbearable all over again!"

//--Helena
I master my breathing and my anger. He is not its target, and this is unfair. "I would have you look, if you are willing. I remember clearly what I saw; I can walk you through it. I have nothing to hide in that memory. If you have the ability, I would show you rather than try to describe what I have seen. Nothing I say would be... adequate."

//--Saras
After a breath, "Yes, I can revisit what you experienced. Give me a few moments to compose myself, and we can share that; start working on solutions." He rises from the bed, snatching up his shorts on the way to the bathroom.

He returns after a minute or two, face scrubbed of sleep and hair pulled neatly back. Rummaging out your Trump from his bag, he sits at the edge of the bed, diagonally facing you, but at a professional distance. You open the contact, and he begins to commune with your memory....

Several minutes of intense communication later, he turns over the card. Speaking more to himself, "If it wasn't inflicted on you, I would applaud the genius of it." Then, more conversationally, "If we can duplicate the conditions that led you there, and I can work my way in with you without disrupting anything, I believe I can map the shift-mechanism, and hopefully dismantle it. What things do you recall doing before you slept that brought the lights to your perception?"

//--Helena
I smile wryly. "The only thing I specifically recall doing before I slept last night was make love to you." My expression turns a little more serious. "Right before your came to bed, I tried a couple of gentle shifts, just trying to shake myself back... I got some flashes of the lights then, and a bit of a headache. It passed pretty quickly. Does that help?"

//--Saras
Smiling a bit himself, "Well, then, assuming there is no conjugal trigger, perhaps - since it is bound up with your shape-shifting - those 'shakes' were what accessed the mental mechanism." More seriously, as he turns your Trump face up in his hand again, "Try the same thing again once I connect with you, and I'll follow as best I can."

//--Helena
I nod, happy to have some sort of action plan.

//--GM
You do once.. twice... three times... and then, on the fourth attempt, he reaches deeper into your mind, following something very subtle. The urge to yawn strikes, and then suddenly you are in the room again.

//--Saras
"Fascinating..." Saras whispers, and then he's quiet for a while, although you feel a tingling sensation that might be him checking connections. Then he nudges your mind gently, urging you to turn up the dials. "There will be some trial and error here," he warns, "but I think I have this mapped. Go with as high as you feel comfortable setting things, and I'll work out the rest, all right?" The first two go to 105, but the area above 100 is in red. How high do you set them? Do you run the other two all the way to ten, or some lesser increase at first?

As you're considering, he adds, "I won't be pulling up any control lines until we're sure of what does what, but if I can track everything, we should be able to undo this. Meanwhile, I'll lock the intake pathways to the storeroom, so you aren't reading my tea preferences against your will." He offers a Cheshire mental smirk before sobering. "The only thing that would prevent us from pulling this up bit-by-bit is if there is a self-destruct protocol in the 'wires' - and even then, I won't stop trying to find a solution until you decide the risk is too great." He cannot conceal his concern that you will press too hard, too fast to be free of your mother's curse, but he returns to his work without comment.

//--Helena
"One question, do you have any thoughts on what the locked door represents?"

//--Saras
"I don't know, but...." He considers carefully, and then, "It is too soon to say." He may be holding back on what he considers too far fetched an idea to express yet.

//--Helena
I do one adjustment to one dial at a time, and then reset back to the starting level before moving to the next one. So the first one adjusting gradually up, up, waiting for Saras's input. As soon as he knows enough, I stop pushing higher, if that comes before 100, great; after... well, he needs to know. Then I set that one back down to 62 (or whatever it was before I touched it) and do the next one similarly. On the coarser grade dials I do each one up a notch, wait a beat; up a notch, wait a beat; up 'till he knows enough, or 10, whichever. Reset that one, go to the last one.

//--GM
The first dial started in the nineties, and you feel no difference all the way to 105.

//--Saras
"Dial it down slowly now," Saras asks, and again, you can't tell the difference. "Whatever it controls must be more chemical than neurological. I can't follow what it's supposed to do from here. We might have to go back to see what that influenced."

He suggests trying the other three, to see if they function differently; in short order, you discover that they are the same. "If you think you're up for it, pick a dial to max out, and minimize the other three. That should making identifying the channels a lot easier."

//--GM
If you agree, which one do you start with? If you're testing One or Two, is max 100 or 105? Will you use 1 or 0 as the minimum for Three and/or Four?

//--Helena
I nod and gradually minimize (to 1 on the 0-10 dial) the first three dials. I wait a moment to see if anything happens, and then slowly up the 4th dial.
Observe.
Gradually return to normal.
Repeat.

//--GM
Saras has you hold each change for a minute or two to let your body catch up with the alterations. Not necessarily in the order you try them...

With the first dial at max with the others down (105-5-1-1), you're fine for a minute or so, and then you start to feel a little twitchy. Saras has you dial down to 100 so you don't break out of the 'sleep-pocket', and soon you feel fine. "This may be the cause of your reaction time issue."

Setting the second dial at max (105) with the others down is fine at first, but after a few minutes you feel your heart pounding, and again Saras has you dial down five points to keep you in the control room. "Something to do with blood energy transfer. Maybe tied to strength, maybe stamina, maybe some combination," he theorizes.

The third dial up with the others down (5-5-10-1) doesn't noticeably affect anything, even after several minutes. "I don't know on this one. Are you comfortable with leaving this one up to see what happens? I'm confident I can get us back here to make changes as necessary."

Dial four seems to produce some change almost immediately when maxed out by itself (5-5-1-10). You feel flushed and a little excited. When Saras asks how you're feeling after a minute or so, your first impulse is to 'wake up' and jump his bones that instant. Do you fight to stay under, or give in and come back to consciousness? "I think I know what that one does..." Saras mutters.

//--Helena
I fight to stay there, and dial that down to midrange again if I can.

I look away from him a minute and recover myself, I have that wry smile again when I turn back to him. "So, what's next? Should we go back to dial 3 again and try to figure that out in the waking world? Or do you have some other thoughts on what we can do here?"

//--Saras
"Well, I think we need to have everything mapped before we try something more permanent, so bringing you back to establish that function should probably be our next step." You sense his thoughts turning toward the 'storage room' door, and it closes more firmly and locks. "Do you want to isolate Dial Three with everything else at minimum? Or should we make an exception or two?" With all possible seriousness, "Dial Four on 1 or 0 doesn't sound like much fun after seeing what 10 does to you...."

//--Helena
I look back at him, a little surprised he would suggest that. "Uh, in the interests of science, 'professor,' speaking as the subject, I'd kind of like to get this over with. Do you not think the other settings will interfere with your ability to detect what's going on with Dial Three? I'm happy to try one way first and another way second." I pause for a second. "And for the record I have no interest in fucking you because I've given myself the internal equivalent of a date-rape drug." This is not said with the hostility the course language implies, but it is not completely joking, either.

//--Saras
You sense a wave of embarrassment through the Trump link to him. "I only meant that I can now eliminate the Fourth Dial's influence from the equation, so you don't have to be emotionally or physically numb while I continue my research. It was also my thought that - if the first two dials function as I believe they do - they don't necessarily have to be minimized either, since they appear to function along sufficiently different channels."

//--Helena
I nod, giving him this.

//--Saras
With a bit of dismay at the turn of conversation, "I wouldn't have presumed to approach you any way other than medically or scientifically until we were both certain you were capable of consent, Helena. The thought of you anesthetized makes me even more uncomfortable than... look, never mind. I should not have been so glib, under the circumstances."

//--Helena
I turn my attention fully to him for a moment. The thoughts I push to the fore of my mind, all jumbled together, are the wry pleasure at seeing it was him whom my mother had arranged me to meet; my delight that he was interesting and interested beyond our pleasant mutual respect; that I wished so much that I had met him at another time without all this interfering; that by the time he returned yesterday, I had thought about him and wanted him so much it was difficult for me to wait as I had. I want him again, and still, and soon if at all possible.

(dunno if you run mental contact this way; I'll figure out a way to put it in verbal language from Helena to him if not)

What I say is, "You should not have been so glib. I should not have been so harsh. What that makes my anger so close, my frustration so real, is my fear that in the end this thing will end us, Saras. That would be the worst outcome I can think of."

If he continues insistent, I will do what he asks. I have no problem going back and forth, so long as he thinks that's a viable strategy and isn't hurting anything permanently, or making my state harder to diagnose and treat.

//--Saras
"In the interests of brevity, perhaps setting everything else at the lowest levels would be best." You feel the psychic equivalent of a shudder pass through him, despite his efforts to suppress it.

//--Helena
"I'm sorry, Saras. I'm a terrible patient. I've been told before."

//--Saras
"I've done all I can for now. I'll see you when you awaken, and you can let me know what your baseline is." He cuts the contact rather abruptly.

//--Helena
I blink. Blink again.

I turn away and calmly turn the others down with three up full. I wait several minutes. Then I put everything back to the middle levels they had been at before. I pause a moment, and then turn the Fourth Dial down... maybe halfway down. I stop there a second, and then turn it further down.

When I can actually tell that I'm sexually dulled, I sit down and think about him, about Saras. His record, that first sparked my interest beyond my slight irritation with mother's meddling at such an inappropriate time, is still admirable. His skills and education are excellent and peerless. He's a superb warrior; better than me in some ways; someone I would be thrilled to learn from and teach with. His intelligence, and his patience... hell, his willingness to work me through this thing and _still_ have some persistence in wooing me.

I smile. Serpent, given what I've put him through, he pursues me. I ignore the numbness of my body, and picture so clearly that first moment. There was a second when I knew I would let myself have what we both wanted. The incredible delight and joy of that moment carries right through. Even without the ache of lust, without the schoolgirl excitement I had for him and comfort he offered, I would still want him.

I stand and reset the dials exactly as they were when we began. There is the lingering worry in my mind that this thinking is too late to call him back from whatever I've driven him to, but I hope I can repair it.

I allow myself to leave.

//--GM
You awaken, lightly covered by a fresh quilt from the rack. The room is empty. Saras took his bag and his cast off clothes, leaving your Trump behind, face up on the nightstand. Your heart sinks for a moment at the thought that he might have actually left, but then you hear Boss barking at the side door from the patio, trying to convince Saras to come out and play.

//--Helena
I sigh and smile, surprised by how relieved I am. I get up and tug on my robe and pad out.

//--Saras
You find Saras in the living room, with one arm up to lean on the door frame, looking out through the glass. His gaze traces the tree line, at first appearing lost in thought... until you catch the occasional apologetic glance down at Boss. His unoccupied shoulder is slumped as if struggling with some great weight, and the salting of gray has returned to his hair.

//--Helena
Not sure if it would be appropriate to do what I would prefer to do, which is touch him, I stop a few feet back. "Saras?"

//--Saras
He pushes lightly off the door frame to stand straight once more, the gray in his hair filling in dark green as he turns to face you. "I... just needed a moment to collect myself." Pulling the 'professional' cloak tight around his fatigue, he asks, "Are you ready to continue?" at least momentarily oblivious to any other motive you might have had to come out for him.

//--Helena
I nod and walk up close to him. I put my hand up to his face and just take a moment to look at him with tender appreciation for the pain and hope and pleasure, the anticipation and the fear I have put him through, and with open admission of my own.

//--Saras
His exhaustion holds him in place long enough for him to realize that you are neither numb nor riding some false excitement as you come to him. Saras almost shudders with relief at your touch, allowing his exhaustion and lingering fear to the surface at last.

//--Helena
If he will let me I will stretch up slightly to kiss him slowly, warmly, lingering as long as he accepts.

//--Saras
His hands catch your waist as the kiss begins, and then rise up your back, drawing you closer, accepting the kiss without reservation.

//--Helena
Finally I say, "I trust you. I will do this as you direct me to do this. If we must wait to address your caution and your standard of care, I will wait. If we must experiment, I submit. If we must do now something I don't understand, tell me only how to help you help me."

//--Saras
He is perhaps a little frightened that you would put so much faith in him, but he nods his acceptance of your trust.

//--Helena
I pause, but remembering his worry and embarrassment when his emotions were naked before me, I go on. "I am afraid because of what this thing has done to my mother and what it threatens to do to me. Even with that fear, though, I realize... I am coming to love you. It is a new love and easily deflected, but I want it to survive. You are worth fighting for.

//--Saras
Unwilling to trust his voice, his eyes hold yours until you feel him thinking, "You are my only House now, and I will fight for you," and then he drops his gaze a split-second shy of making all the other rash promises a man in love would wish to.

//--Helena
There is a pressure behind my eyes, and I realize I am about to cry. (?!?) I drop my forehead against his shoulder and master the reaction; only a shake or two passes through my shoulders.

//--Saras
Saras is careful not to draw attention to noticing. If you had allowed the tears, he might have said something comforting, but as you buried them, so does he, to spare your feelings.

//--Helena
"And so, what next for this afternoon? Work or rest?" I stay close to him, available but not pushing, to invite him to make this next decision freely.

//--Saras
When he finally does speak, there is a quiver in his voice that it takes him a moment to suppress. "I... I need to rest. Perhaps I let our fears scourge me on too long...." Saras' eyes close, his emotions too raw to let play in them, "I'm not sure what I have left right now, and I can't bear to make a mistake with you... in any way."

Several breaths later, his eyes open, and a tired smile gently curls his lips as his belly audibly grumbles. "I also need to eat, and I fear anything I could conjure now would not be fit for fish food. If no other means occurs, is there a servant you trust not to gossip overmuch that could bring something here for us?"

//--Helena
I laugh gently. "A servant not gossip?" But after a moment's smile I admit, "Yes, there are a few... pretty much anyone here would be discrete, even among the other servants if I so asked. No one new works for my father here.

//--Saras
"Even so, perhaps we should make some small effort for them not to get too good a look at you, unless you trust implicitly, or believe this shape would not surprise whoever comes."

//--Helena
"Go; sit down. I will arrange it. They should be quite quick."

//--Saras
Saras kisses you once more before parting, gentle and quick, but still laden with emotion. He finds a seat facing the office in the upper living room and sits, settling his head back and taking measured breaths to relax more fully.

//--Helena
I wrap my robe around myself more formally and head out to the office, where I call my duty staff and request a large, fine lunch for myself and a gentleman caller, with further supplies of food and drink to stock the small refrigerator unit. "I plan to be in residence at least another few days," I explain to the question. "If I do get called away, you will be informed. Thank you."

//--GM
(I picture a small amount of sorcery fortifying an audio-only phone line into the central dispatch for the kitchens and larders of the greater Ways. Does that work for what you had in mind? I don't see there being 'Trump-everything' in Chaos, but you are particularly well-off for a woman of your station, magic-blind or not, so it's up to you.)

//--Helena
(I don't think she Trumps everything, but I do think she has particular servants specifically assigned to her service -- folks vetted by her father who are a sub-section of his staff. So the above is basically correct, except that I would probably be speaking to a specific person.)

//--GM
The staffer you speak with makes some minor inquiries about some of the specifics, but they have comprehensive notes on your preferences, so it takes little time. Do you do anything to address Saras' concerns about your appearance to the servant?

//--Helena
As I am known as an extraordinary shape-shifter, I don't think it would be a problem. On top of that, I will let them know that my caller will accept the order at the door. I'll go into the lower level of the living room.