Closed Dating a Harlot 110

[Matthew]

Matthew stared at her, those unblinking eyes of blue unwavering in their intense focus. "I believe I have felt genuine emotion. However, I could not tell you what that emotion was. Normally it is an unpleasant feeling, so I simply try to mentally discard it and move back into a calmer state of mind." That was often harder said than done. Sometimes the emotion was simply beyond his ability to control, so the odd sensations would rampage through his body. Even then though, it seemed as if his body didn't have a definition of exactly what it was supposed to do. He supposed that would be instinct, and he assumed he didn't have very much of it.

"I can't remember how old I was. A lot of my childhood is hazy. No complete and utter blanks, just faint. When I think of them, I watch them. I do not re-live them. It is almost like watching a child that is not me." It was interesting how working to translate his thoughts to spoken word actually managed to help him further understand his current state of mind. Perhaps he would have to attempt this more often. He was slowly starting to see the benefits.

Her next questions caused him to blink, the barest glimmer of surprise registering on the surface of his stare before he slowly and carefully replied. "I would not say I like my job. I do not dislike it. I simply feel I am the sort of person who is suited for such a task. I do not form attachments and can please a physical need in ways that are logical and easy to do. I also find some pleasantness in learning, no matter what the subject." He paused for a moment, eyes searching hers. He hadn't been surprised by those questions. No, it had been her final question that had puzzled him. It was one of the things that regularly puzzled him, yet he hadn't ever thought to ask anyone. He had assumed that they would simply not understand.

Perhaps this was a good chance to have at least a tiny bit of his thirst of understanding quenched and satisfied.

"How have I carried on so long? How have you carried on for so long? How do all of you survive?" The light caught his eyes in an odd way yet again, that dark blue line that circled his iris flaring brightly for just the briefest of ticks. "How do you function with the constant stimulation? The heat, the buzzing, the euphoria, the aches, the emptiness, the drowning, the brightness, the thoughtlessness? How do all of you cope with allowing your body to feel such things, and sometimes even allowing those things to control you? How do you act in the name of honor or loyalty, even when you are sure to die? How do you dedicate your lives to a sole person and expect them to return those feelings for that same amount of time? It simply does not... calculate." His eyes were once again unwavering, unblinking, body even having inched just a touch closer, pressing his figure all the more tightly to her own. There was something deep in his stare, something that he himself didn't even realize was present.

It was a hint of desperation.

[Kaie]

To exist in one world but to never be a part of it.

The concept was far familiar than the savage initially thought. The division between Matthew's lack of emotion and the very passionate world around him had been rather evident. However, was it no more obvious than the division between her and the societies she'd drifted through the past several years? If anything, wouldn't it truly be her that was the one so divided from the rest? Her, with her traditional form of dress, the thick accent when she spoke the Common tongue, the very tint of her skin that pointed toward her heritage. At least Matthew had camouflage. He looked like the others, dressed and spoke in a way that boasted class. He could mask his disconnection with pragmatism. Yet she could not. Kaie would forever be a Myrian, and for that reason, she would always be different. Never one with those she joined in the barbarian crowds.

When the harlot discussed his profession, she saw something different in it this time. At first she'd always attributed Matthew's draw into the job for wealth or just curiosity. While perhaps the latter was still the case, there was a tone of benevolence this time around. He could see the profits society could reap from his condition. He could be the one night stand, the man that was always available, the one to fill a specific void. Was there any anomaly in her own path? A benevolence within her willingness to kill? The Myrian mentally waved away the question. Her mind was already reeling, trying to keep up with the new, reversed form of reality in which the harlot encouraged her to consider.

How do we all survive? Kaie echoed internally, wide eyes blinking up at him blankly. Her arms unfolded and hung toward her sides, fingers dipping into the soothing warmth of the water. Amber stared into azure, catching the darker shade that flared for such a sort period of time with nothing short of utter bewilderment. How was it he had flipped her whole world on her in a way that made all the emotional norms so incredibly irrational and unnatural? Lips parted as if to counter him. There was that expansion in her lungs, that quick breath that was inhaled before lips pressed together speechlessly into a hard, thoughtful line. The man's argument had its merits. Too many. And her mind drew nothing but a blank.

Then it struck her. The heat, the buzzing, the pounding of her heart with anxiety when Dira knocked upon the door. The fear that seized her into a hush when death's shadow lingered over him, and the aches that befell her when she failed to succeed when the pressure became real. They were driving or paralyzing factors. Motivating or demotivating. Yet the decision aspect that came in light of such sensations was more complex, and thus harder to defend. At the end of the day, she believed Matthew would look out for Matthew. Self preservation, as prevalent as it was no matter who was in question, was what allowed an individual to continue to survive. Without the emotions to potentially motivate him to see past his own instincts to preserve himself, how could anyone expect the man to place a higher value on any other path?

"You're right. It doesn't add up," Kaie began slowly, stare glancing down when she noticed his body fitting more snugly against her own. Tongue lashed out to line her bottom lip. Eyes that had reacted to his movements with a distant desire refocused. They flashed up to set themselves upon his with far more purpose than before.

"It would seem easier to live in a way that logic ruled exclusively. People would be more level-headed. More rational, reasonable individuals... with little to drive them. They say in Taloba it is the fighter that desires victory the most who often wins. How could they expect to succeed without the fear, the anxiety, the adrenaline that motivated them to persevere against their assailant? How could a gang member in Sunberth expect to be trusted by their superiors if they didn't feel the need to express their loyalty to them in the face of potential disaster? Is feeling regret and remorse for one's actions against another an important part of social learning? And what of a doctor? Without the desperation felt when confronted with the severely wounded or sick, why would they try to heal anyone? As much as emotions tear it apart, society would break down without them, too. "

She could feel her fingers curling into fists against her outer thighs in the water. Her skin practically prickled against the closeness of his. The savage hid her hands behind her back. "We could argue the pros and cons of being controlled by emotion and reacting so passionately to stimuli around us deep into the night. It's not so much what we feel, Matthew. It's about what we do with it. How we make them count for ourselves and those that matter to us." And with that she made her strategic retreat. The Myrian separated their flesh and drifted toward the edge of the baths. Her mind still raced with possibilities and alternatives, and considered all of what her friend had shared rather seriously. She lifted herself from the baths and found herself a towel. The fabric was wrapped tightly around her, and having become deprived of the heat, the savage gave a gentle shiver. It was always so odd to her how pruned her skin would become after time in the water...

"If you could...would you ever like to feel again, Matthew? The way you say you once did?"

[Matthew]

Normally some part of his mind would be appreciating the contrast of her bronze skin against his lightly-tanned flesh, her curvy muscles pressing to his own slim ones. He had developed an odd admiration of the sight, though he wasn't sure if it was merely sexual instinct. It resembled art to him in some way, though he had no idea how. He had never understood art. Now, however, his intensified stare and a mind desperate to understand were completely and utterly focused on what the Myrian would say. How would she respond? Would she give him an answer that suddenly made everything click logically into place? Matthew had a need to understand, but what he was now could only understand logic. If it was anything but that, then he would never understand. He would always be like this.

He could tell his words had an impact on her, but he did not yet now what sort of impact that was. Just as he had a hard time understanding the emotion that sometimes swelled to life in himself, he also had a hard time processing the glimpses of it he saw in the eyes and actions of others. There were a selective few that he knew from sight alone. Most of them he could make an educated guess at. He had no way of knowing for certain that those guesses were correct, though. His eyes searched hers, flickering back and forth between the foreign things that swirled in the endless amber hues. As her lips parted, his eyes jumped to them, awaiting the words that she would present.

His ears drank in her words as she spoke them, eyes sharp as he processed the information presented. In her argument, emotion could be used as a driving force. It could be used to empower in a way that logical reasoning could not. He was well aware that many horribly illogical battles could be won by a man who was daring and brave. Emotion was a wild card. Passion, imagination, bravery, these were all things that could push someone beyond the limits of their logical confines. But then there was fear, jealousy, hatred. Those were some of the things that could drag someone down, transform them into something that was less than what they had been before. They certainly could argue about it all night long, though he felt there was no argument to be made. She was correct in her assessment and he certainly did not have enough understanding to construct any sort of side to debate with.

Watching her leave, he too rose from the water and stepped from the baths. Noticing her subtle shiver, he stepped to a small bench he had slung some towels over before she had arrived, grabbing one and holding it out for her. "Here. This one will be warm. If you place them close to the steam of the baths, they will get warm while only getting mildly damp. After we dry a bit, you are welcome to accompany me back to the room so we can get some rest." Taking one of the towels for himself, Matthew wrapped it around his hips, pondering the sentence that had impacted him the most.

It's not so much what we feel, Matthew. It's about what we do with it. How we make them count for ourselves and those that matter to us.

At her sudden question, he blinked, head turning to face his Myrian companion, body stilling. There were a few ticks of motionless silence before he slowly gave her his answer. "Sometimes I feel that I would like that. I know that having full understanding and sensitivity to my own emotion would allow me to fully know how wonderful people describe happiness to be, or joy, or eventually love. Many people seem to feel it it is worth dealing with the pain and lack of control that come with negative emotion in return for the blessings that come with positive emotion." He paused a moment, watching her carefully, curious about how she was absorbing all of the things he was revealing about his inner workings.

"And at times I believe I feel some distant sensation of fear at the idea to being fully exposed to what I currently see as very chaotic things. Sometimes I wish that I could instead remove every last inkling of the emotion left within me, and be left with the peaceful silence of a mind that isn't constantly assaulted by incomprehensible emotional stimulation. In either case, I believe it would be a very radical change. The man that I currently am would cease to exist, and I don't know how that makes me feel."

[Kaie]

She looked at the much warmer towel and offered the harlot a nod of gratitude. Her much colder towel was discarded, exposing herself to him until she took the new towel from him to wrap around her body. Already was she soothed by its temperature and the shivering ceased. "Thank you. I'll have to keep that in mind the next time we meet here again." A presumptuous statement, but one she firmly believed in. It was a calming place. Even the turtles brought her solace. It would be a nice place to escape the horrors and stressors that came with living in Sunberth, and she couldn't think of anyone she'd rather share it with in that moment. It seemed only right now that they seemed to have crossed another personal line that day.

The Myrian thought over his answer carefully. Again, she found herself nodding along in agreement as he spoke. The good emotions certainly outweighed the bad and, in many cases, she found that those negative feelings heightened the positively of the, well, positive feelings. His fear was real though. She tried to imagine herself in his position. The shades of the same monotone that probably came with different stimuli, the clear-cut logical path of thought, the constant objectiveness to each situation. Then she imagined a total release. She bombarded that grey-toned world with emotional color, the reds of anger, the blues of melancholy, and all the colors in between with the corresponding emotion. As beautiful as the mental picture was, it would be something of a nightmare to experience. Kaie had enough time to gather self-control and restraint over many of the negative emotions. How might someone fair having never had the experience necessary to acquire that?


"It sounds tricky," the Myrian agreed. She fastened the towel around her frame to free her hands. The discarded, colder towel was wrapped and shaken through her wet hair. "I've never experienced the version of the world you've lived. I might have my own perception about what that might feel like, but it isn't the same as what it truly is. I won't tell you what you should want. All I'll tell you is to try to remain aware of how emotional stimulation affects you. The tick you forget to keep yourself in check, will be the tick it overhauls all that mind of reason about you. I'd imagine earning back your emotions would have it's own set of challenges for you."

Already were the curls returning to her dark hair. She went about drying her body next, and when most of the moisture was wiped from her skin, Kaie went about dressing back into her clothes. Towels were folded up. Boots clicked toward the door. Yet just before she opened it to exit, the Myrian turned back toward Matthew. A kind grin spread across her lips. "In any case, whatever man you turn out to be if that day ever comes, you'll still be the one that helped this poor, savage bartender mop up the mess at the Rearing Stallion."

[Matthew]

Sometimes he wondered if his world was actually any less chaotic than their own. How would Kaie react to see that island he imagined in his head, where all the physical manifestions tried to climb ashore and assault the carefully guarded walls around his precious logic? Would she be surprised to see the composed Harlot murdering them one by one, leaving the floating bodies of such manifestations floating in the endless oceans that surrounded his lonely mental shore? To him, it seemed natural. It was a system that he had found actually worked for him. He had no doubt it was radically different from the colorful world that Kaie spoke of. He blinked several times as he absorbed her imparted words of wisdom, his mind printing the words into the air and swirling them around so he could better study them.

How emotional stimulation affected him? The tick that he forgot to keep himself in check? His eyes narrowed, a memory suddenly assaulting him.

He had let himself slip with Kaie once. Early in his career, he had tried to mix natural arousal with his practiced skill, perhaps putting some of his chaotic emotional force to good use. If he controlled it, could it not be wielded as a weapon? He had been reckless back then. He had gone to far. Let himself go to far. He had done too much, all while he had been there merely to learn while slipping all over soaking wet stones. He had burrowed into her, overconfident with what he saw as a form of power. He had wished to test his skill, to see if he truly could permanently carve a hole within her that only he could fit into. A hole that no one else would be able to fill. He, a Harlot who loved no one and was freely available for all, had attempted a seduction so impactful that it would forever change how she saw all others after him. He had wondered if it was even possible. What if it had been? What if he had reformed some small part of her, but then had casually walked away to never once fill that void?

He had no doubt he would walk away again. Perhaps he was overthinking it. But that was a good example of the one time he had let himself get out of check. It had been so long since then and he hadn't thought anything of it. But what all did he miss while in a state as distant and apathetic as his own?

A part of him suddenly felt something hollow and empty as Kaie offered him a smile. He remembered something he had promised back at that hot spring, but then never followed through on. Part of him thought he should apologize. Say something, even if he wasn't sure how genuine it would sound.

But he didn't.

The Harlot merely offered his Myrian companion a small and polite smile, head nodding slowly as he spoke in the professional manner that he always did. "Thank you, Kaie. I appreciate that."

[Alea Davenport]

Thread Award! Matthew: Skills: Writing +1 Negotiation +1 Weapon: Dagger +2 Planning +1 Tactics +1 Teaching +1 Brawling +2 Endurance +1 Interrogation +1 Seduction +1 Philosophy +3 Lores: Unarmed Combat: Deflection Techniques Fights Don’t Always Take Long Kaie’s Weakness Kaie’s Explanation of Love Thoughts Clarified by Putting Them Into Words Notes: Please remember to edit your request to show that it was graded. Kaie: Skills: Negotiation +2 Unarmed Combat +2 Brawling +1 Swimming +1 Weapon: Dagger +1 Teaching +1 Interrogation +1 Philosophy +3 Lores: Directions to the Aquilar Hot Springs Disarming a Dagger Fighting in Water The Weakness in Confidence Matthew: Emotionally Handicapped Additional Comments: Watching Matthew's emotional journey is always interesting. Hopefully Kaie can help him out with more of it If you have any questions about the grade, please feel free to PM me and we can discuss it.