Lesson Learned: Do not write Flagg tags before bed

[unflagging]

It certainly is not my fault you had those dreams. You're blaming me because it's convenient. It's understandable. It's completely understandable, even if it is misguided. Why wouldn't one point the finger at the nearest suspect for such a thing? I've ceased to be surprised that you'd blame me. There's no call to get petulant over it.

Although, let's be honest, shall we? Yes, let's. I did rather enjoy them. To be specific--I mean, aside from general imagery and fire and ruins and so on, the usual thing--I liked the part where you chased down the Allgood brat while shouting, "I will thank you not to handle my possessions!" and then tried to beat him senseless with a boot. That part was especially good. Were you playing pretend?

[Stop giggling. Why are you giggling?]

And good morning to you as well.

Go get your pen and your needle. You have work to do.

Comments

[unflagging]

It isn't wise to contradict the fairies, is it?

[pareidolist]

Sometimes not. Other times I get tired of their smug little smiles and it seems like the best idea in the world.

Too bad fear's instinctual – I can't take the credit for ignoring them.

[unflagging]

And what do you fear?

[pareidolist]

Such a personal question for two strangers at a campfire.

[unflagging]

Wanderers are often curious, don't you think? There's some inherent curiosity in them, some inherent questioning in them, that makes them roam. No wonder I should ask such questions.

Besides, it seemed like the next step in the conversation.

[pareidolist]

And we wanderers are so fond of steps, after all. All right, I fear –

[That I'll go too far, he thinks. That I'll wake up and find blood on my hands. The frenzy of the bacchae. The sparagmos I hear in the rustling of fox-skins.]

– control, I suppose, in excess and in deficiency.

[unflagging]

[The fox, burying his grandfather under a hollybush. And what is the question?]

A fair thing to fear. In all ways and directions and times. Control held over one, the control one holds over another, control held over self--in excess and in deficiency. A fair thing to fear. A fair answer.

[pareidolist]

[Precisely. And that does earn a full smile.]

Glad you approve. [Ridiculous, but true.] And you?

[unflagging]

Aren't I your psychotic break? Shouldn't I, therefore, fear the same things you fear?

[pareidolist]

Oh, everyone fears everything. I'm just curious which one you'll pick first.

Let's say I want to know which facet you reflect.

[unflagging]

You're going to give me that kind of control?

[pareidolist]

I have absolutely terrible judgement, Mr. Fox, and I certainly am.

[unflagging]

Perhaps I fear...nothing.

[pareidolist]

Blickt der Abgrund auch in dich hinein. Good answer.

[unflagging]

["Whatever his antecedents, he was something wholly other than their sum, nor was there system by which to divide him back into his origins, for he would not go. Whoever would seek out his history through what unraveling of loins and ledgerbooks must stand at last darkened and dumb at the shore of a void without terminus or origin and whatever science he might bring to bear upon the dusty primal matter blowing down out of the millennia will discover no trace of any ultimate atavistic egg by which to reckon his commencing."]

Oh, are we doing that? All right.

Viel von sich reden kann auch ein Mittel sein, sich zu verbergen.

[pareidolist]

He should've seen social networking. And what could a hallucination and its dreamer have to hide from each other, after all?

[unflagging]

Quite so. What have we to hide from each other, after all?