A Little Light Who: Desdemona and Jacta When: Anesus 3, 8:30 PM Where: The Sitting Room
With little windows all over the castle, Desdemona wanted to spend as little time in her room as possible. As soon as the sun was down, she was gone. It felt like her privacy had been invaded and taking up in a public room gave the illusion that everything was okay. It had been practically impossible to sleep when anyone passing by had a window into her room. People she didn't know. They could just look in and... And it was better not to think about it right now. It would make her uncomfortable all over again.
Rather than dwell, she'd taken up a task she knew how to perform and actually might come in use to her. Placing herself next to a window in the sitting room, Desdemona began making candles. She'd dip the wick into a pot of hot wax, then let it dry while working on another. It was a slow, monotonous task, but it allowed her to think and watch the people that passed by, just as curious about her new neighbors as they probably were about her. She'd rather meet them in person than through a hole in the wall.
For a Vrykolas, Jacta imagined that having most of the day eaten up worrying about sleeping soundly would be a royal pain in the ass, but she at least had slept soundly enough. She hadn't even noticed the windows until she woke up in the morning, and then she had had quiet neighbors. At that point she had felt unsettled, but then again, she never was good with mornings these days. She'd sat low in bed, quiet-like and nursing her stomach as if she were coming down with a cold, taking the extra time to wake up just as she had for the past two days. She didn't spend a few minutes looking into the mirror as she had been wont to do before -- she certainly didn't need anybody to see that she was measuring her stomach and monitoring herself for changes.
She still hadn't made her mind up yet, at that. Jacta would have to find out if anyone in the compound was a healer, mage-like or not, who knew of caring for pregnancies. She'd have to be quiet, though, for she didn't want news to spread before she'd met faces and impressed herself as herself and not 'that knocked up wench as came in with a baby and no father for it.' Before she even decided if she wanted to be seen or known as a mother, or to abort that road of possibility, she wanted some more information. She didn't know a lot about pregnancy. She did make-work, not mage-work.
In any case, she spelled herself soothed, drinking from a cup of lightly salted water that she'd brought up with her in the night. It didn't make her feel entirely better, but it made the morning more normal, and she had quietly left her own room as the sun rose to go about the newly assigned chores she'd taken.
She'd also kept her nose out for other first years and for other folk in general. People here were so different from any farmstead or city she'd ever visited, and not just because there were other species in residence. It was the co-existing and interdependence that did it. It was fascinating, in a way.
Tonight was rounds. She had taken up hall duty the evening before simply because she wanted an excuse to wander back and forth. She was tough, she knew how to defend herself, and she wasn't of a type to put up with fights. Besides, if she ran in to Remy again, she'd have an excuse for talking down to him. What a nob.
It wasn't a smarmy little excuse for a Vrykolas that she caught sight of tonight, however. She had slipped out of the upper block of hallways and into the sitting room, and she noticed that Desdemona was going away at her own slow work. Candle-making was something that Jacta didn't have much experience with either, though it fascinated her. Fire held gentle sway over her, part of the reason she tended to hearths at homes or on the road. She strode into the room, around a chair, straightening the sash that rested over one shoulder and proclaimed her 'on duty' tonight. "Evening," she addressed the young woman, pulling up a footstool beside her. "That looks interesting. Are you a Vrykolas, then? I'm Jacta Serosum," she knew that she'd invited herself over and introduced herself with very little preamble, but if Desdemona was in the sitting room by herself, Jacta figured that she could use some company.
Though Desdemona didn't mind the company, she was immediately thrown back by the question, wondering just what it was that gave her away. There were a few things that she'd noticed, yet she didn't know if a human would-- mainly her choice of clothing and her silent heartbeat. Having fed less than twenty-four hours ago, she wasn't quite so pale, allowing her to think that she might pass for a human. Then again, she'd never lived with them and wasn't entirely sure what they saw when looking upon her. It was impossible for her to imagine, as she was far more receptive to them, at least in her own way. Looking up at Jacta, she noticed the sash and wondered what exactly patrolling entailed. It seemed like a fairly easy job, for the time being.
"I'm Desdemona Dox," she answered with a polite nod of her head. If she wasn't sitting with hot wax around her, she would have risen, yet the situation did not allow for it. "How did you know?" she asked. "Am I that obvious? Or was it a lucky guess?" She smiled softly, looking down at her work as she dipped the candle once more. Gloved hands picked up a little metal tool, allowing her to carve simple designs in the soft wax. Rarely could she spare attention to detail, but it was something to do while holding conversation. Perhaps she could keep this candle for herself, or give it as a gift.
"Mostly a guess," Jacta admitted, seating herself and smiling impishly. "I'm trying to get better at telling who is what so that I don't go putting my foot in my mouth -- if you'll forgive me for making you a guinea pig! -- and so far I found that's often as not it's the clothing on a person's back that gives them away... I mean, I could have guessed you for a Prince's daughter or something, but the chances of that happening -- nobility having enough children of the right age to drop into the compound? -- are slim to none. It's us common types who've had all the babies in the past seventeen years, as I figure it. You look like you could step out of a mine shaft and still impress a man or three as looked at you."
She smiled the gesture large and not necessarily pretty, but warm enough. "It's been a long day. Tell me to shut my trap if I'm yapping too much, I just feel a lot better about this whole compound thing now that I know what we're supposed to be doing, and all. And it's nice to meet you, by the way." Much more in her element, now, Jacta didn't mind opening up. If Desdemona turned out hoity, at least she'd have given her her best shot. Besides, the Vrykolas was actually doing work, so that was a good common ground to start on!
"I find that's a distinguishing factor between the Human and Lykos species myself," Desdemona responded with a smile. "It's up bringing, I suppose, and what we have to work with. There's no place to grow cotton in the mountains, but there are plenty of silkworms. And we've no need to work the ground, so our 'work' clothes consist of something much different." She'd had plenty of time to think on her own species, yet knew next to nothing about the others. All she'd learned, she'd come upon since her arrival, unless it came from books, and who knew if those were right. "Thank you though. I promise, should I step out of a mine shaft, I'd still be covered in dirt." The difference would be that she would never allow a man to look at her, dressed like that.
She didn't mind the conversation in the least. In fact, talking with women was the only thing she knew something about. The difference was, she hadn't met all that many of her own kind. Only Elanna, in passing, and she'd yet to see the girl again. So far, she seemed to get along fine with the Human women, so long as she didn't threaten them in any way. Civil conversation came naturally. "It's nice to have someone to talk to. It's a monotonous project, but one that needs to be done. I can see fairly well in the dark, but if it's pitch dark? Then it's impossible, no matter how good your vision is. As one who lives in the basement, we must have candles."
Jacta leaned forward, eager to lend a hand. "Do you want any help? I don't know much about how it works but it looks learnable." She'd noticed the stark contrast between Vrykolas and Lykos, herself, and wondered what those of either species must think of the other for those particular differences. Jacta was a little miffed by the apparent regal dress that the Vrykolas employed (even using gloves during chores? Good Winds, that felt almost stuffy!) but if they were about showing off their wealth... well, hey, to each her own, right?
She wanted to ask about the differences of eye-sight. From what she'd learned from Tabrika, Lykos had ridiculous senses of smell and hearing. Perhaps Vrykolas had complimentary sight? Instead, she chose a more neutral topic... at least for now. "What are the mountains like, anyways? I've only ever been up in the foothills, and only once or twice. All we get to see is a smudge on the horizon... never actually been in them!"
If Desdemona were to explain the gloves, she would have stated that they had to do with the amount of skin exposed, rather than an attempt to show off wealth. In addition, it also kept her hands smooth and clean, though that wasn't as much a problem while working with candles. "It's very simple, unless you're doing designs," Desdemona said, handing Jacta a clean wick to start with. "You dip the wick in the wax, then let it cool before repeating the process. The new wax builds upon the cooled wax and eventually you have a candle." As far as chores went, it was probably the most easily done, but also one of the most boring.
"I've always loved the mountains," she said, smiling as she looked up at Jacta. "They're cold, often with snow in the winter, but there's a crispness to the air, like you can separate each individual scent. My home was built deep into the rock-- it would be almost like enclosing this castle in a cavern. It's dark, so we went through a lot of candles," she laughed. "I do like going down into the hills occasionally, though I never got to do so in spring. I'm eager to see the flowers bloom while we're here."
Jacta took the wick, then dipped it into the warm wax as Desdemona instructed. She could imagine that this kind of chore would get boring, but having a good supply of lights on hand was essential, magical or no. The human appreciated people who were able to tolerate menial tasks for the sake of possessing foresight... perhaps Remy was an exception to your average Vrykolas?
"It's like that out on the plains, too, sort of," Jacta agreed, "I'm not really a fan of winter, since it means spring is right on its tail and food gets harder to come by at the same time that the wagons get mired up on the dirt roads... but when I was a little girl my brothers and sisters and I would find hills to slide down, whenever we got a chance. Do Vrykolas ever play outside?" Games of chase-the-Princelet through pre-defined tracks in the snow rose freshly to her mind, the sticky sour but welcome smell of breath caught on heavy woolen scarves about the face... Jacta had best liked to get involved with farm-stead children, where friendly competition was always an alternative to actual work. "I've never been in a cavern, it must be really wild."
"I did as a child," Desdemona said, remembering. Games of hide-and-seek were common, as was tag and other simple childhood games. The games changed with the weather, sometimes in complete darkness, sometimes played in the snow. "I don't as much anymore, not unless I'm... running. I like the wind in my hair." Both comments were true, though the subject matter had been altered slightly due to her audience. Desdemona wasn't one to run for fun.
She wondered if wild were an appropriate word. Lykos she considered to be wild. Her home, not so much. "I believe our homes differ greatly from Human homes. There are places, centers of towns, that I can navigate entirely within the rock walls of a mountain. Outside, there are bridges, stone steps, but even if we sleep during the day, we allow for ways around the sun if we need to be about. Here, that's more difficult." She hadn't worried too much about it so far, but that was due to her basement room. Had she gotten stuck upstairs, she'd have been worrying constantly with the windows.
Jacta tried to imagine entire cities built underground, and failed miserably. 'It must be dark' she thought, and then corrected herself, 'well of course, it's Vrykolas.' Desdemona had just mentioned that she had excellent eye-sight in all but the darkest places, right?
She concentrated on dipping the wick again (careful not to turn it sideways for fear of a crooked candle) as she digested those thoughts, as she thought of something to respond with. She wondered about Desdemona running. Did Vrykolas need to keep fit? What was that pause all about? She didn't even consider that 'run' was a euphemism for 'hunt', if it was.
"Wouldn't it be something if we could set up some little tunnels or something? I noticed they didn't even have anything out to the stables -- ah, do Vrykolas ride?" At least at this time of the month, night time lasted a little longer!
"It would be a bit trickier working underground-- more dirt and less stone-- but I think it could be done. Maybe," Desdemona said, trying to recall all she knew about the actual process of building out their homes. Vrykolas lived long lives, but had always been relatively small in number, at least compared to the other two species. Over hundreds of years, homes were recycled, the interior changing, but the structure the same. The work performed was not something she had ever taken part in. It took time, far longer than most Human structures, but the result was permanent enough to withstand thousands of years ahead. She couldn't imagine the people of the compound constructing anything similar, especially in the plains.
"Occasionally we ride," she confirmed. "More often it's if we come down to the plains and forests, rather than in our day to day lives. I live higher up, so I've rarely ridden myself. The longest time I've ever spent on a horse was coming here." And how she'd hated that. Even if she spent some of the time in the wagon, it had been the longest journey she'd ever made in a short period of time. It wasn't that she minded the horses, but rather the time spent traveling in total. "You ride, I assume?" she asked. "I know so little about Human every day life."
"Oh yes," Jacta replied, fondness in her voice as she forced herself not to fiddle with the candle-baby dangling from her fingers. "I got my first horse when I was fourteen, a gelding by the name of Spooks... he's all black save for a kind of skull-shaped blaze. My mother has a bad sense of humor..." She shrugged, idly spinning said candle-baby back and forth now that the wax had cooled. "I'm trader-folk. We swing all around the continent -- er, human regions -- and lend our hands around the farms in exchange for goods and produce. I've spent most of my life in a wagon or in a saddle."
Dipping the candle again, allowing it to drip as she raised it above the vat, she cocked her head to one side. "You're probably going to laugh at me, but is it true that you can fly? We hear all kinds of stories on the road about Vrykolas and Lykos... but my parents have always told me that half were pig-scut and the rest were bedtime horror stories." Jacta rolled her eyes. She was feeling pretty darned superior at the moment. She'd met Lykos and Vrykolas, after all. She was better than her ignorant family-friends!
It was easy to see that their lives were entirely different, that it was more than just their diet that separated them. It was something to wonder about, how two species that could have been so similar turned out so different. Desdemona suspected that she'd only seen the tip of the ice berg and that more would become exposed over time. It was too hard to describe her entire life in one sitting, and she thought Jacta probably felt the same.
"Fly?" Desdemona asked, her eyes brightening as she looked up with a grin. It was true that some Vrykolas had been known to fly, though it was not in the literal sense. Instead, it was a trick of light and shadows that allowed the to almost disappear into the darkness. That had to be what Jacta had heard of, for nothing else made sense. Vrykolas could not fly in the literal sense... at least, none that she knew could. "No, we can't fly," she said. "Not like birds. Not in the air. We can do some things, nothing like your mages, but flying is not one of them. That would be fun though. Now I wonder what else you've heard," she said, smiling at Jacta, curious and interested.
"To be honest?" Jacta dipped her candle into the vat again, using it as an excuse to look away from the Vrykola. "Not a lot of flattering things. Mostly talk from farmers when we swing north. That's where I heard the flying thing, by the way. It's easy to get suspicious when your brother or mother or child comes home with a big chunk out of 'em or doesn't come back at all..."
Not that Jacta was growing defensive. She wasn't going to believe straight off the bat that Vrykolas were monsters worthy of fear and hatred. She couldn't even imagine somebody as composed and pleasant as Desdemona 'ripping a chunk out of' another person... in short, she was prone to assuming the girl was hardly a threat.
Desdemona's nose scrunched up as she made a face of disgust. That sounded like an over-eager Vrykola male, or a youngling of some sort. Definitely someone that didn't have the control they should have. She could easily see why that would leave the other species disliking her kind. Of course, that wouldn't stop her from hunting. She just worked differently than some of her peers, always a lady when she could be.
"That's so unnecessarily... messy," she said, then realized it was more than that to Jacta and continued on. "We have to feed, but we don't have to take more than blood. And we certainly don't have to kill." As she let the wax drip from her candle, she looked up at Jacta. "It takes only a few to create rumors that effect many, I suppose. We're not all the same. The Vrykolas I've met here were not always brought up as I was."
There was something about the way that Desdemona reacted that did manage to send a shiver up Jacta's spine, for all that the human was staunchly certain that the Vrykola couldn't be that much a threat. She frowned, though she said nothing in rebuttal. Messy? Well, that was a start... but it wouldn't be the first thing that Jacta would have described such a situation with. Her mother and the other Mages of the caravan would have been furious; when they weren't defending against thieves, they killed dangerous predators.
Jacta wondered if, in all that she had seen and as far as she had traveled, some of those predators had been hushed up Vrykola deaths...
No, her family and business was above brutality like that. Besides, she would have heard something about it, right?
"I wonder why it is," she said, finally, "that we can look so similar and yet be so far apart." She wanted to choose her words carefully, so as not to upset the woman across from her... but it was bothering her. "You have to drink a humans blood to survive? Why? What happens otherwise? I'm just trying to understand." She was dangerously close in mind to comparing Vrykolas to ticks, but that idea didn't parse with almost regal image of Desdemona before her. Why would the Winds curse humans to worry over the likes of Vrykolas?
"Not so far apart," Desdemona said, wishing she could better explain. "What we need is just different. I could eat all the greens I wanted and it would do nothing to appease my appetite." There was a time in her childhood, a very short time, that she'd tried to live like the Humans. She'd eaten her fill of cabbage and carrots, forsaking several meals of blood, only to end up sicker than she'd ever been in her life. It was one of the few times she remembered her father scolding her, telling her that plants could not feed off the darkness, Humans could not feed off dirt, and she could not feed off anything but blood. It was an easy lesson to learn, however painful on her entire body.
"It doesn't have to be Human blood," she said hesitantly, giving in that much. "It just has to be blood, and it has to be fresh. If we don't feed, it's like you, I suppose. Like drinking water, but not eating. Eventually we get weak. Colder, paler. It gets harder to get out of bed. We'd waste away, until all we can feel is pain, but we can't die that way." Just thinking of it sent a shiver down Desdemona's spine. She'd heard stories about those that tried not to feed, that locked themselves away till they were virtually skin and bone. They were skeletons, their minds gone early, with their only thoughts being on blood-- how they couldn't have it, yet it was all they wanted.
Desdemona pressed her lips together, attempting to decide what was a secret to keep and what a Human could be trusted with. This was not something they'd covered back at home and it left her unsure of how much to say. "Starved Vrykolas are more likely to attack out of bloodlust. Give a man dying of thirst a jug of water and he'll drink every drop without thinking. It's not necessary, but at that point the mind's not there," she explained, somewhat sadly. It was their existence and they'd learned to live with it. She'd never felt sorry for her prey, never cared what happened when she let them go, but when faced with one in conversation, she was forced to look at it differently.
Wait... Jacta had to back up several steps, here. She was talking to a woman who existed solely off of blood, probably solely off of human blood, when she could just as easily be drinking from an animal?
Where on Trivald did she get off (did the entire species get off) with the idea that humans would have any part of this particularly twisted need when there was an ample supply of animal. Fire and blight, humans usually bled their slaughter out before they put the animal to butcher. Surely some kind of trade could be put into place? And yet she'd never heard of such a trade in however many centuries and millenia the two had existed side by side.
Why?
There had to be a reason.
She had her lips pursed, her frame rigid under her voluminous, rough-woven cotton layers. She wasn't going to bark at Desdemona over this new discovery. Besides, the Vrykola was kind enough to explain what happened when one of her kind went entirely without... and that made enough sense, that much was true. But why demote humans to animal status when they could just as easily share?
She dunked her candle one more time, giving it rather a more rough shake than it needed to be free of dripping wax. "I don't understand," she finally said, her voice genial enough as she composed herself, "if it doesn't have to be human blood that you need to survive, why do you single us out?" Jacta couldn't wrap her head around it. The entire conversation simply felt surreal.
If her blood hadn't already been cold, it would have been chilled now. Desdemona could sense Jacta's distaste before she even spoke, hearing it in her heartbeat, the tiniest change in her scent. That didn't prepare her to answer, for she could not decide what to say that would make a true difference. If she was honest, she was fairly certain the Human would bite her head off... figuratively, that was. Seeing as how biting was the issue, she knew Jacta would do nothing that would bring her to the Vrykola level.
"There's a draw to Humans. Your scent, your taste. There's nothing else like it. It can be intimate in... in a way I've never experienced otherwise," she explained, her voice soft but her eyes unashamed, even if a bit concerned. She realized now that she would have done better to steer the conversation elsewhere, but now that they were there, she'd rather answer than leave Jacta to make up her own answers. "It can be that way for Humans. Some even draw close enough to form a bond."
It was a hard concept to grasp for one that hadn't lived it, that much Desdemona was sure. She doubted her answer did her species' actions justice, but hopefully she'd come up with a better answer for the future. This was the best she could do, this time around.
Jacta's distaste wasn't all that well hidden, when it came right down to it. The way that Desdemona described feeding from human flesh made her a little queasy...
And a thought came to her, and she couldn't help but bark in unexpected laughter. A bond? As in a Partner-like bond? How... how outrageous.
But now she could kind of see a similarity that had been lacking in her mind. It made more sense to her, strangely enough, to compare the taking of blood to the taking of magical energy, than it did to physical sustenance. A woman, for example, needed to form a bond with a man (and preferably a friend, and not a lover; not Harbenae for all that she worked desperately well with him -- but that was a different thought for a different time) in order to perform magic. Jacta was already beginning to feel the strain that came without having a Partner; she was only eighteen but her focus was strong enough that she could probably pass for an early bloomer.
She had heard stories about people whose Partners had died in the war, how exceedingly uncomfortable it was to be alone in those times. It was easier, now, to equate Desdemona's talk of Vrykolas rolling insanely in bed with that unfulfilled need to an old maid or uncle who, half-shattered, couldn't do all that much any more with magic.
It was absurd, but it was a connection, none the less.
Jacta realized that she'd laughed and not explained herself, and cleared her throat. She still wasn't fond of the thought of being bitten (or even being 'intimate', ugh, with a Vrykolas like Remy or Desdemona) but she could... kind of... relate. "I'm sorry, I just... something kind of clicked. I don't know if you're familiar with our needs, but you kind of just described what a woman does when she finds a Partner with a man." Candle in one hand, she used her her hand to mimic 'taking' as she made a sucking noise with her mouth. "They draw up magic and we take it to cast spells and make them work. I don't... think it's the same thing, quite. But it's kind of close."
A laugh of any sort was jarring to Desdemona and she stared back at Jacta, her eyes wide as she tried to make sense of the response. There was nothing funny about it, of that she was certain. Confusing, maybe, but not entertaining, unless Jacta was finding some kind of twisted amusement in it all. She didn't seem the type. Desdemona had never experienced anything more than the bond between predator and prey, and therefore considered it quite strong. She knew of those who'd taken a Human as a Scion, and that bond was supposed to rival all others. It was something she could hardly imagine, as a pureblood.
If Jacta had not proceeded to explain, Desdemona would have let the conversation end, unsure what to do next. Was she supposed to defend or not? Jacta's response was nothing like she might have considered, knowing so little about the Humans. "You draw magic from one another?" she asked, trying to understand the comparison. "Like... we drink blood? What happens if you don't have it? Can you take it from another species?"
If she was getting off topic, it wasn't on purpose, but out of mere curiosity. The idea of sucking magic off another being was completely foreign to her, as Vrykola magic was based solely upon themselves and their own control. Desdemona could not have taken another Vrykola's magic, no matter what she did, but what if a Human could tap into that? Wouldn't that be an interesting trade, blood for magic? And what kind of bond was she referring to, between partners? Was it physical or magical or both? Desdemona waited to have her questions answered before piling more on Jacta, hoping to understand better.
Now there was an avalanche that Jacta wasn't expecting. Desdemona felt a little less like a predator in disguise, asking those questions, and more like the regal but slightly sheltered young woman that Jacta had walked into this conversation expecting. It did a little to smooth away her worries. "Ahh... well, it's complicated, really. It's probably not that much like drinking blood. You can't take more than a man is willing to give unless you're really damned good, and even then, it's not going to kill him or really make him sick or anything..." well, that wasn't an entire truth, but Jacta liked to think that most women were gentlefolk when it came to the give and take of magic. "I hear it gets pretty rough if you don't have a Partner after a while. We don't really need one until around... I dunno. Twenty-five, tops? If I hadn't got picked for this damn place I'd probably be hooking up right now, but it ought to be tolerable for the next six years." Ugh, six years... Jacta had to remind herself to remain optimistic...
"And... y'know, I don't know about siphoning magic off of someone like you or Tabrika -- I mean, Lykos types." Jacta considered. She hadn't really been able to sense any kind of magical font in Remy, and she didn't have any experience with male Lykos... and of course everyone knew that women didn't store magic, so she hadn't even bothered with Tabrika or Desdemona. "Probably not. If you guys can't cast spells than we probably aren't compatible."
"It gets rough?" Desdemona asked, trying to wrap her head around the concept. "So, when you have a partner, you pull the magic off them? And if you don't have one past twenty five... you can't do magic? That seems so... difficult, I suppose. Is it like finding a mate?" The words embarrassed her, but she couldn't find any other sort of comparison to make. The way Jacta spoke, Desdemona thought they might be one in the same.
She rolled her eyes at the mention of Tabrika, but didn't comment. Desdemona had clashed with the little Lykos immediately upon meeting her, and had yet to spend much time with her species since. Though she didn't know much about Lykos magic, she knew enough about her own for a little smile to form on her lips. "Just because we don't cast spells, doesn't mean we don't have magic," Desdemona said. "Unless you can only draw off spells themselves. I don't have to say specific words. There are no rituals involved. But we do have magic."
"It's..." Jacta wrinkled her nose, flushing a little. "It's complicated. No, it's not like marrying a husband," though life would be so much more simple if it were! "You have a Partner in magic and a husband that you build a family with. You don't even have to like your Partner, so long's he's around to provide the source. So... a woman's got the ability to control what magic she's got, but it's not enough to do more'n little stuff. It's like taking a sponge bath," which Jacta wasn't actually opposed to! "when you could be soaking in hot springs with your own personal masseuse; magic's more comfy when you've got a Partner."
And Vrykolas had magic? How the heck did that work? Jacta asked as much, "so what kind of magic do you have? I know some people who can get away casting spells that're familiar without saying or doing anything... but you've gotta focus."
"So your partner has to be a man," Desdemona said, figuring that part out from what Jacta had said thus far. "Doesn't that make it hard on a husband? Sharing your time with another man?" In her experience, once you were with one man, you didn't go spending much time with any others, but this was all based on what Desdemona had seen and heard. Even spending time alone with a man while single could have been considered improper, but it wasn't as if she could bring a chaperon into the compound. It would have to be accepted, as there was little way to avoid it... and, honestly, Desdemona was enjoying that little bit of freedom thus far. But if she had taken a husband, she knew things would be different.
The comparison between a sponge bath and a hot springs fit well, and Desdemona would have related it to drinking the blood of a Human versus an animal, if she hadn't wanted to stay away from that subject. They'd moved on and she was glad for it. She didn't think Jacta would appreciate the reasoning in that instance.
"Most of our magic takes focus," Desdemona said. "It won't come about on it's own, but even a child can learn the basics. I was taught to heal when I was taught to hunt. They should go hand in hand." From what Jacta said, that didn't sound like it was always the case, but she couldn't be blamed for the actions of others.
"Hah!" Jacta grinned, apparently feeling a little better again. "Oh, well, Partners aren't meant for that," 'that' of which she didn't elaborate. "Most men learn to work with it, possessive as they might get. It's more worrying about your husband running off with his Partner than the other way around... but usually she's got her own husband to worry about. It's not honestly a big deal. When you've got Partners and husbands and children running around everywhere he's got way too much to do to sit and spin malicious little yarns. We all do, especially in this day and age." The Winds had attested to that. Even city folk didn't have the time to sit back much at all after the war. A recovering economy and society needed everybody to pitch in, lest it wither away.
Jacta's answer left Desdemona slightly stunned, not entirely sure how to respond. She had trouble picturing it-- men working with women who weren't their husbands, children running around at the same time. There were very few Vrykola children running around at any time, and even then they knew to leave their parents alone in private time. Or... whatever it was the Jacta was hinting at. "It sounds very different," Desdemona finally said with a little smile. "Women don't work with men where I'm from. In fact, prior to coming here, I wasn't allowed to spend private time with a man without a chaperon. Unless he was family, of course. Now, things are so... I don't know what's proper and what's not."
Jacta could imagine it well enough: men delegated to working separately while women did the planning and undertaking of larger tasks. Centers ire, she'd seen it in action every time her caravan'd stopped in at a farm. The women met at the head of the wagon line and talked out the work that needed to be done and the trade that would go on, while the men mingled and chatted and waited for what to do next. It was part of a coordinated effort, after all.
She had to smile at the idea of a chaperon, however, mistaking Desdemona's hinting for something else entirely. Women could chaperon their youngers too, after all. "Don't tell me you were that much trouble," she gave the Vrykola a knowing smile, for her thoughts had definitely turned from harmless work-ethic to more personal tastes! "What, did your parents fear you'd come home with a man on either arm?" Dipping her candle again, she chuckled, "are you planning on it now?" It was a little personal, maybe, but Jacta was fine with joking.
Desdemona's mouth fell open, her cheeks even darkening slightly with the surge of embarrassment that rushed through her. Jacta thought--! She was implying--! Her mind couldn't even formulate half the implications and yet she knew where they were going. "I would never!" she gasped quietly. "I-- I wouldn't know what to do with one man, let alone two!" Flustered, her attention turned to the candle she'd been handling, only to find that her fingers were curled tight around the wick. She loosened her grip, trying to find something to say in what appeared to be a highly inappropriate conversation. "I don't understand them at all. And, here, there's so many, some so bizarre..."
Tayne came to mind, the fact that he'd let her feed from him combined with the complete lack of reaction. And then there were the Lykos men, who were wearing far too little to keep her eyes politely turned away. The draw she felt towards them was disturbing in almost every fashion.
At least Jacta had the sense of mind to cover her mouth when a chuckle escaped. Desdemona's mortified reaction was a little more than she'd expected, but she wasn't going to make fun of the Vrykola for it! "Well of course they're bizarre, they're men!" The primly dressed twin hadn't been the only girl casting eyes at surprisingly bare bodies, here, though Jacta had firmly placed herself out of the running; even thinking about getting involved with those of the hairier persuasion here (and she wasn't thinking only of Lykos, now) would do Harbenae an injustice.
That, and she definitely had other things to worry about. Getting with men was what landed her in her current situation in the first place, for Center's tricksome sake. Despite all of that, she wasn't going to warn Desdemona away. It was kind of funny that the other young woman was so... out of the loop. Jacta wondered if she wanted to stay that way. "And don't get ahead of yourself, neither -- I don't know what your type or the Lykos run after, but I know your average farm-boy can be jealous as sin, so don't go floating off on a moon-beam about it." Leaning forward, conspiracy in every line of her body, she had to ask, "so you've never... you know?" Desdemona was pretty enough. Jacta couldn't say that she wasn't surprised!