Come and go with me, it's more fun to share... [CLOSED]

Entry tags:

Come and go with me, it's more fun to share... [CLOSED]

Who: Ariadne and Connor
What: Talking about various humanoids
When: February 2
Where: The medicinal garden (Sigyn's district)
Warnings: None foreseen; will update as necessary

Even if Ariadne had admitted to not being Human, she still much preferred looking Human, when she could. It was like...like what? She tried to think of the best analogy she could come up with. Like Elves. They never wanted to be seen without their clothes. Which was funny, because Ariadne couldn't figure out what they were hiding. But yes. That was the best she could come up with. She felt naked in her own skin. And no amount of truthtelling was going to make that go away easily.

Anyway, she was concerned about Connor. He seemed vulnerable, somehow. Her announcement had unsettled him, and it wasn't because he hated Alastrians. There was more to it. And she didn't need a scent to tell her that. She figured she ought to ease him into the history lesson about her people and about her world.

Human skin was definitely the way to go.

She arrived at her garden early. Her plan had been to put out a few blankets so they could sit and talk, hopefully putting him at ease. But Ariadne could never really sit still and she saw one brush that needed pruning. Followed by another. Followed by another. So before she knew it, she was kneeling in the mud, hard at work tending to her plants, completely unaware of the fact that she'd destroyed yet another dress from the common wardrobe in the cottage.

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She could only stare at him blankly. When it came to the notion of making another person...well, yes. Other people made new people all the time.

It was just a little too much for her to grasp, really. Not having parents. Being manufactured.

It was a day of learning for both of them.

"I don't...I don't understand."

Judging from her reaction, the explanation hadn’t been clear. She didn’t understand machines and she didn’t know what androids were, so what would be the best approach to explain the process by which androids were made?

He briefly looked at his hand. If only he had the same abilities as back home, it might be easier to provide a visual demonstration. Unfortunately, that was no longer an option.

“Humans build what they need to make their lives easier.” Connor began trying to keep the explanation simplistic. “They gather materials and put them together in a specific way to achieve a desired result.” That could apply to tools, buildings, roads, or anything, really. “It’s the same process for creating androids - Humans build them.”

It just wasn't possible for Ariadne to think of Connor as a machine. Machines didn't get cold and need blankets. Machines didn't walk and talk. Machines didn't get confused when they saw Alastrians for the first time.

So, she tried to compensate.

In her particularly sunny sort of way.

"If a Human built you," she said, "doesn't that make that Human your parent? The same way my parents created me and my father carried me and the others to term."

Connor gave her a strange look. Partly because of the insistence that humans were his parents, partly because of the odd admission that her father happened to carry her to ‘term’. Mostly because of the latter.

The look dulled as he continued to explain. Considering the content of his words, he was composed while delivering them. “Humans create androids to sell them to other humans. It’s not a familial relationship; it’s a business.” As far as humans had been concerned, they androids had more in common with merchandise than with other people. That had only just begun to change, but it had been the norm since their inception.

Ariadne turned the idea over in her head for a few moments. It was a lot to process. And Ariadne wasn't stupid. She just came from a very, very different background. One that had difficulty aligning. The closest she could figure, it was like parents having children only to sell them. There were biological failsafes in place that generally prevented that sort of thing.

It wasn't the case with Androids.

Finally, she let out a slow breath. "That's terrible."

And she meant it.

It was obvious that she was thinking it over, so he let her have the time she needed to consider what she needed to. In the meantime, Connor idly tapped his fingertips together and waited patiently.

For the longest time, it was something he had never even considered - as purchasing androids was expected behavior. But since becoming deviant it seemed ... wrong, somehow.

When she arrived at her conclusion, he blinked at her. Having someone who wasn’t one of his own people think highly enough of androids assume they deserved better was still unusual, even more so since she knew so little about them. A small, but sincere, smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Maybe you can tell me what it's like to have parents and siblings." He redirected their conversation back to where it had begun. After all, he never intended to change the topic. He just answered her questions since it was only fair to do so. "It sounds like it's very different for Alastrian's."

She tried to think if she'd ever seen him smile before. Of course, she must have. But she couldn't quite remember when. And he had a pleasing smile, too. Not that sort of smirk that some people had, especially when she said something stupid, which, no doubt, she did quite often. She found she appreciated that about him.

His question, however, made her laugh.

"I don't know that it's all that different," she said. "Just bigger. I had nine sisters and ten brothers. I know most humanoids tend to limit it to five or fewer."

Not all, but most.

"I guess the biggest difference is that there's no such thing as privacy when you're an Alastrian child. There's always someone around. Always."

He looked mildly surprised. Twenty children in a family?

If every child continued to have the same number of children, then logically that would mean Alastrian's would have a larger population when compared to humans. If Alastrian's had such large numbers, it was strange that the balance of power seemed to favor humans. Perhaps he’d have to explore the cause sometime. Or maybe his assumption on their numbers was incorrect?

In any case, their families sounded different than what he was used to, personally. Constant monitoring and lacking privacy was always a norm for androids, but not constant companionship.

"It sounds very lively." Connor decided. At least there would always be someone dependable around.

Ariadne laughed at that. A gentle, bell-like laugh. Not at his expense. But in agreement. "That's one way of putting it," she said. "Very, very noisy might be another."

Although, sometimes, the noise had been kind of beautiful.

It was easier to remember the happy times. Now that they were so far in the distance.

"It was hard," She added. "To go from being one of many to the only child. I think that's one of the reasons why Aunt Lysia sent me to the missionary school. She felt sorry I wasn't around children any more. But Elf children are raised very, very differently."

Connor’s face shifted to a subtle expression of skepticism, one that was becoming somewhat commonplace in their conversation when he ran across something that was too far-fetched for him to simply accept at face value. He quickly attempted to coach himself back into a neutral expression.

Ariadne had eluded to the fact that there were other types of people that inhabited her world. But... elves? He wasn’t quite expecting one of those people to be elves. Elves were largely works of fictitious novels.

However, she had confided a personal experience in him and he would acknowledge that first in order to not seem dismissive. What lead up to it occurring and her becoming an ‘only child’ seemed like a separate matter that he didn’t quite have context for.

“You we’re surrounded by family before. It would be difficult for most people to adjust to circumstances so different than what they were accustomed to.” He leaned forward slightly to catch her gaze, “Even if you have other children present, as I understand it, family is closer to you than friends. Them being absent would be a tremendous change.”

Although Ariadne firmly believed that found-family could be just as strong and just as true as blood family, she nodded. It had certainly been a tremendous change. No one could possibly argue that point.

"It took a lot of time," she said softly. "And I made plenty of mistakes, attempting to adjust to the social norms of Elfish society."

Which were, in her opinion, entirely too stiff and formal.

But she'd learned.

What type of adjustments could be required? Of course having no family was a large adjustment, but it sounded as though there was more to it than that.

Connor lowered his voice to match the softness of her pitch. “Elves are one of the other types of societies that exist alongside Humans and Alastrians?” He sounded genuinely curious.

She nodded. "Elves are the dominant race of the realm. Humans are second. And then there are the Darucs, who are kind of like Humans, but kind of different too. Those are the humanoid races of the realm. Then there's everyone else, who's basically a demonoid, like me."

Again, she was struck by how lonely his world seemed.

Only two races?

...how...boring?

Not only did she explain one type of people, but she proceeded to throw more at him that he wasn't prepared for. There were different races, classes, and social hierarchies other than what he'd been introduced to thus far. It was a lot to take in, and maybe he let his surprise slip in the simplicity of his response. "...Oh." He managed quietly.

Connor supposed that he could likely ask questions all day about social structures and culture when considering these new people. That seemed like an entirely different topic to save for another time. His intention wasn't to keep her there indefinitely.

"Why are you considered a 'demonoid'?" Was that a positive, negative, or neutral term? Did it have any other significance?

His question startled her, but only because the word was almost as familiar as her own name. She'd heard both of them as long as she'd been alive. And taken both of them into the whole of who she was.

Her identity. It was wrapped up in those two words.

Asgard was so confusing, sometimes.

"Back home," she said, trying to remember how it was once explained to her, "there are two types of beings. Humanoids and demonoids. Humanoids are like the Elves, the Humans...born with two legs, two arms, one head. Shaped like...well. Like you." She made a vague gesture toward him.

She assumed Androids were humanoids, anyway.

"Any race that's shaped differently in some way is considered demonoid. Including the Alastrians. It's..." She paused. "It's not a very good word. I mean, it's not precise. One set of demonoids can be the polar opposite of another, but we're all forced to live under the same term." But that was prejudice, for you. Imprecise.

"I see..." It was an umbrella term to define those who were noticeably different than the dominant races. He supposed it had something to do with Alastrians having wings which would put them into that category. He found himself not wanting to ask if that were actually the case or not - there didn't seem to be a good way to ask about that without inadvertently bringing up her wings. Asking about anything else from that statement seemed too off-topic for what they had come there to discuss.

Without a practical line of questioning to go from, he shifted. "I think that's all the questions I have for today." Perhaps they could resume and ask about some of the other topics in the future. For the moment, he would be satisfied trying to rationalize the information he'd been given. That would be difficult enough given how outlandish it all seemed.

He gave a courteous nod. "Thank you for sharing so much about your people and your past, Ariadne."

When Ariadne looked at Connor, she could tell he was always thinking. She just wished she were better equipped to follow his trains of thought. Some people were very good at that. At knowing just what was crossing someone else's mind. And they were able to use that knowledge to put them at ease.

Or make them even more uncomfortable. But those were bad people.

Ariadne supposed she couldn't bemoan what she didn't understand. But she felt...off balance. And hoped that she hadn't caused it.

"You can ask me anything you want, Connor," she said quietly. "I don't want to hide anything any more."

Connor glanced at her, not with a glare, but definitely with more of an acute look than he had given previously. It seemed that he wasn't alone in his penchant for being able to read others to some degree. He'd left questions unsaid and she'd practically asked him to voice them.

After letting his gaze fall, he slowly folded his arms, debating what to do next.
Either he could insist on having nothing more to say or comply with what she requested. Though after being directly asked, it seemed almost disingenuous to say that he had nothing else to say. She'd wanted honesty.

He breathed out and relented.

"...Your people are classified as 'demonoids' because they're physically different from 'humanoids' in some way." He began by reviewing what he knew to be a fact. "It's reasonable to think this is because your people have wings. These wings would have to be large enough to hold a person in the air to give them the ability to fly." Not that he was completely set on logic making sense of all of this, but it was the most reasonable conclusion to come to. It would also give them a physical difference that qualified them as 'demonoids' by definition.

"Concealing wings at that size should be physically impossible, but you appear without them when you are Alastrian." He paused, still not entirely wanting to put words to the question he was leading to. "Does this mean you're different from your people in some way? Or do your people have some other trait that makes them demonoid?"

She'd never actually had this conversation before. The people she'd trusted most...they already knew. Aunt Lysia. Tahafra. Even Princess Amanda, who was much wiser than most Elves. It was an unspoken thing. Just a basic truth that didn't need to be analyzed or explored.

Which was to say, she'd never told this part of her past to anyone.

But she wasn't going to back down. Not after she'd opened the door for him. And whatever else Connor was, he'd been a part of her inspiration to tell the truth, for once in her life. It would be hypocritical to...dissemble.

Didn't make it easier. But it did give her determination.

"I told you before," she said, reaching behind her shoulder with one hand to pull on the strings holding her dress shut, "that Alastrians who want to pass for Human have to make sacrifices. Some sacrifices...hurt...more than others."

It took him a moment to realize what she was doing, but upon realization, Connor immediately looked away. It seemed very unacceptable to keep looking at her while she...adjusted...her dress regardless of the intent behind it. Instead, he focused his attention on the fauna in front of them.

His conclusion was correct, though. Her people did have wings and she was different from them.

“Your wings, and the ability to fly, were part of those sacrifices.” Part of the sacrifice that one needed to make in order to pass as human - That seemed to be a reasonable conclusion to draw. His voice turned sympathetic, “That sounds like a large price to pay.”

Oblivious to his discomfort--if that was the word for it--she turned her back on him, peeling her dress away from one shoulder. Her back was largely smooth and fine, but there were two noticeable scars, running along each of her shoulder blades. Nine years healed, they weren't grotesque. But they certainly spoke to obvious and immense trauma.

The conclusion was probably obvious.

Her wings had been surgically removed.

"It was worth it," she said, still looking away from him. "To get to live the kind of life that I wanted for myself."

Which wasn't to say she didn't have regrets. But those weren't the same thing.

Edited 2020-02-18 23:37 (UTC)

As she spoke, he thought it acceptable enough of an indication that it was permissible to glance in her direction. However, He was met with her back turned towards him. His eyes fell to the marks on her back.

Connor shifted himself onto his knees and closed some of the distance between them to get a closer look. It was the first example of physical evidence that her wings could have existed, after all.

There were two clean cuts of sizable length on her shoulder area. The scars weren't jagged, but it was a patchwork of skin that had neatly healed some time ago. They were several years old at least. His face softened. Evidently, she made the decision to remove them when she was young. That took conviction.

"You were determined to live a life with those who looked human. You decided that a long time ago.” It was what he observed from the evidence and her words.

Connor carefully reached out and placed his hand at the center of one of the scars. Strange. He didn’t feel any physical indications of wings under the skin. If they existed, they had been purposefully removed. He withdrew he hand and put it back in his lap.

“The only way to live with humans is to look like one. So you had someone remove your wings to make sure you could blend in.” At least, that’s what the scars indicated. She couldn’t have done this herself. It was too neat and precisely healed.

She shuddered a little bit, at the touch of his fingertips on her scars. It didn't hurt. No sharp intake of breath, no crying out. And she didn't pull away. It just felt strange to her. Probably because no one ever touched them.

Even she tended to avoid touching them, carefully lacing her corsets and dresses. Practiced habit. Largely unconscious.

It had been a week of many firsts. What was one more?

"That's right," she said, still facing away. "When I was ten and came to live with my aunt. She did the same thing, although I think she was much older." At least seventeen. Ariadne was pretty sure about that. "Most of the Alastrians left eventually went through with it."

"Most of the Alastrians left have undergone the same procedure?" Connor sat back on his feet, having gleaned all the details that he could from her. "How many of your people are left?"

If there were only a few, that could explain what would encourage them to undergo such a process to begin with. There was a better chance of survival within a larger population compared to smaller traveling groups. Given their family sizes, it almost seemed like they could outnumber humans. Perhaps not.

"I don't know," Ariadne said. She was exceptionally good at math. But there were too many variables to even guess.

She pulled her sleeve back up, reaching over her shoulder to re-tie the laces of her dress. Not for modesty. It was just a little cold.

"There are maybe a dozen in Valeria that I know of," she continued, turning to face him again. "All but one went through it. My Uncle Tahafra refused." Which was actually a bit of a boon to the resistance, when they needed someone to deliver a message very quickly. "And I know my parents would have..."

Her mother, in particular, had opinions about that kind of thing. With a capital O.

Come and go with me, it's more fun to share... [CLOSED]

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