Scene #9467: An Question Of Obsession

Owner	Pose
Natsuki Nuki	Natsuki understood the general arrangement with Calvin, or at least believed she did. On the weekdays, Calvin was basically all business, and on the weekends he cut loose. Natsuki herself didn't have a schedule wide enough to just gargoyle the Marshal's time and dominate it completely even if she wanted to, and while she had made clear her interest in Calvin by plying him hard enough that geologists studied it as a tectonic shift, she just wasn't that much of a stalker about it. Meeting up on the weekends for drinks and to get away, sometimes meals, often with direct intent to make more of it quickly, Natsuki had learned to appreciate how open she could be among the Assembly. Growing progressively more daring with each arrival, after a few months of steady visits she had been arriving open carrying her full shape and showing off about it, a dauntingly confident force in the fiercest street fashions and more mature looks. There was an almost impish attack at the mores of culture when Natsuki in her position and power adopted the trappings of explicitly punk street fashion with her human disguise, but those looks faded with her shift to reveling in arriving in the full presence and presentation of the Nue -- the Lady Nue, her specifically nothing else. Towering heroically tall, easily seven feet and powerfully broad with thick arms ending in large hands tipped in sharp black claws, with rich-dark brown interior fur and eyemask about glowing-red eyes, and spools of floor-trailing ebon-scaled serpentine muscle falling from the lower terminus of a massive back-mark or tattoo, stripes or spines or ribbings that take the vague shape of a dark spider wrapped about her. She arrives today in what might be considered traditional dress were it not cut aggressively for look, fit, feel, and fashion. In black hakama pants that trend towards a deep red shining in the light that dip low enough to allow her tail to escape and reveal scandalous digitigrade ankle and bare pantherine foot, a red-red tied rope belt, and a black-black silk kimono jacket over top with interior robe bare to chestfuzz and perilously lacking any button at all. Kept barely-decent by the tactical use of just-tight-enough V-dip of robeneck, Natsuki's gait prowls down the road, having texted ahead mysteriously towards Calvin off their usual time. Normally, there'd just be vaguely horny 'thinking of you's', images of meals, and vaguely horny thinking-of-yous disguised as gym showoff photos. This time, she had more of a point. > You kept me thinking. > About what you offered, a while ago. > Before I shut you up with my tongue. > Meet me in town. Don't care where.
Calvin Nash	As the number of Natsuki's visits to Ossabaw Island steadily climb, so does the familiarity the people around town show her, demon and human alike. Older humans wave from front porches or current projects (appliances, art, musical ensembles, home improvement) and try to entice her to come closer, whether to share news or gossip or cooking. Adults Calvin's age and younger similarly treat her as a face-around-town, even in her full Nue form; waves on the way to or from work or a friend's place, a 'hey Natsuki' or 'hey Miss Natsuki' or something similar called from street corners where shit-shooting is done. Little kids variously either pause in their play to wave or excitedly chase after her to show her cool rocks, sticks or bugs, and to ask how she got so big. Teens give upnods or raised-hand 'yo' waves. Apsaras and Gandharva pause from music and dance to call out hellos from under the shade of a magnolia, an ogre with two Ossabaw hogs (one wiggling under each trunk-sized arm) pauses in his conversation with a rail-thin, sunbeaten old farmer to say hi. In fact, the only bit of question she gets is about her outfit, from Pastor Fred, coming out of a general store with a mason jar full of tea and a small sack of groceries. Even then, it's not the prudish type of thing she might expect, given the way he stops in his tracks. "Natsuki, honey," says the old man, squinting from behind his thick glasses. "You ain't cold?" If she says she isn't, he leaves it at that, with an advisory that winter's around the corner, and that it gets awfully cold in Georgia, much less the island, in that time. Calvin meets her on his front porch, stepping out right after a fresh change. A red-black-white flannel lies unbuttoned over a white tank top that sits low enough to reveal a little collarbone. His jeans, in that way that they did in the 90s (which was the last decade to have global industrialization, here), leave little to the imagination where his thighs are concerned--or, she notes, when he turns and bends over to put out a crate of empty mason jars, another area that's pretty well toned. "Hey," he says with a smile, bending the brim of his black cowboy hat at her. His square-toed boots thunk on the steps of the porch as he comes down to meet her. "You look damn good."
Natsuki Nuki	Natsuki had regularly spent some time with the various groups of Ossabaw Island, having decided she was interested in the quaint coastal Yankee environment and the much better civic values held by people who lived and worked alongside demons openly. Having come from a 'country' coastal town in her own home area, the particular values of knowing everyone and rolling through town being a member of the community had a homey charm that Natsuki couldn't quite get in Osaka any more. What with being a massive public figure and a rather severe-seeming private one. Really blown out of proportion - people could certainly learn to live within the stormclouds. Many did! Others... refused. Their loss, of course. Absolutely on a full walk to show off her look and get looked at showing off, Natsuki gave v-fingered waves and blew winking kisses to the various approaches to her, always responding with purring-positive feedback for praise and long looks, and certainly thrush-giggly at the few people she could surprise with an extra wink and stop and look and long appreciation chances on streetcorners. She takes her time, through the island, long enough for Calvin to clean up and for her to work her way from corner to corner. The little kids get a deep gargoyle squat down and a grin broadly across black-lipped muzzle, their questions wonderful to her, their interest precious. Kodoku, serpent kaiju-tail coming to rest in a long coil about her, she held court amongst the children, ready to appreciate cool rocks and sticks and do cool things like crush things in her huuuuge hands (wooooah!) which is always a winner with young boys, roughing their hair in good natured fun afterwards, and to one particular young girl who so intently and somberly asks the Lady Nue (Miss Natsuki, careful and clear) how she got so big, she has a special answer, delivered in the spirit of an intensely-held, deep secret. Drawing close, palm near dwarfing the little girl's back, she whispers in her still-large and low rumble: "You want to know how I got this big?" And waiting for the nod, the slow acceptance, the purity of childish desire. "I got this big by fusing with powerful demons." She states, direct, clear. "I got this big by wanting it, you know? I got this big because I love power." "Don't you?" She asks, knowing she plants important seeds. "I'd fuse with you," She breathes, and then her grin softens and she reches a finger out to touch the child's nose. "But I'm looking for real powerful demons, you know? So make sure to ask your mama about it, if you really want to grow big and strong. And if you want to grow big and strong 'like me', well..." Train hard, kid. "Become something powerful to start with, and you'll be almost there." Meanwhile, Pastor Fred is warmly greeted for his advice on cold climes when she gets there, a sly grin plying broad black lips split with sharp white teeth. With one hand teasingly tugging at the lapel of the open kimono jacket she wears and the more strained robe beneath, Natsuki leans in and places an arm across the space leaning as if tired, moving as if sweltered by the heat with a faux-dazed sharp grin. "Oh, Pastor, I've got a jacket on, do you really think I need to button up?" She teases, before dropping tone and chin, rolling with a purr. "Do you have some big yeti I could get wrapped in just in mind for the season, Pastor? I wouldn't mind a personal selection if you're offering one. I don't think I'd mind wearing thicker clothes if you picked out the 'outfit', h~m~m?"
Natsuki Nuki	Leaving him with that, a sway of the hips and a long sprawl-about of Kodoku and lingering dark-eyed stare, and a twirl of the fingers, Natsuki saunters off. "Think about it, Pastor! If you're so interested in keeping me warm on the inside, you have ways!" All the way at Calvin's, after prowling down the entirety of Ossabaw at pace to get there, Natsuki takes the last few steps up the walk slow to appreciate the bend-and-show all of her own, standing in open appreciation of the work with a little nostril puff and a warmly amused chirp that can't help but escape. Sauntering the rest of the way with her arms transitioning from hanging simply at sides up, her left rising to greet the stepping-down Marshal and her right lifting straight to let her pinch the end of her thumb in teeth gently, amusement turning into delight at the praise. Her wide tongue presses to the end of thumbtip and she drags the digit down her bare center until her palm rests against the red tie of her rope belt, and her thumb curls deliberately behind to firmly saddle amongst her centerline. "You're fucking right I look damn good!" She sizzles. "I look so stupidly good today that I was just appreciating it when I remembered. Thinking about you fondly, [My Yankee]." Natsuki's left hand paws Calvin's backside and draws him close-in while she dips low to nose down on the top of his hat. "What you said." She lets him loose enough to stand back as she points to his porch setup, or deeper inside, where they can retire for a chat. "I bet half the town knows what I've been thinking about since I've gotten here, but I was thinking about other things the last few," The last every. "-times we've met up. That you had some idea for a powerful demon for me. It's been something I've kept coming back to. Didn't Fred say he was willing to do one of those? I've been obsessed with gaining a new strength, and I was thinking about it so much I just had to visit."
Calvin Nash	Natsuki's audience--most of all amnong them, the girl who asked her the question in the first place--listens raptly. Her eyes widen when Natsuki touches her nose. The advice given hangs in the air for an electric moment as Natsuki leaves. A few moments pass before she can hear the little girl excitedly making a proclamation that sets the other kids into spirited chatter. Pastor Fred, down the road a bit later, laughs a warm, deep hee-hee-hee, his shoulders rocking slightly with each one. "I tell you what. If a Marshal comes back with one, you'll be the first to hear about it," he shoots back. "Just don't tell Madeleine Cadresteia I said that, huh? Hee hee hee hee! Take care," he says as she saunters off. -- Calvin, pawed at and drawn in, utters a soft, low 'hm,' his grin only widening. He follows her pointing hand only reluctantly, having to drag his gaze away from the warm regard of her eyes. He takes her hand, then, and leads her into the house. The floor of Calvin's cabin is smoothed-down, rammed earth bricks, a kind of cement with a color like a darker shade of the silty shores a short drive away. A handwoven rug in muted blue and beige stretches out to greet Natsuki; a rocking chair is set up near a fireplace with a chimney made of those same rammed earth bricks. A sturdy, simple dining table and chairs wait not far away from that, no doubt made from the same tree as the cabin, or at least the same type--oak, earthen grey-brown with homemade cushions affixed. At present, there's no need for the simple incandescent lightbulbs hanging above in their hammered metal shades; the sun does plenty. An old tape deck radio Frankensteined into working condition through several mismatched jobs waits attentively with its spindly antennae standing vigil. Up against the east wall, a comfortable looking blue sofa basks in afternoon sunlight filtering in from one of those windows, its upholstery marred with noble battle scars tended to by dutiful furniture medics, adorned with a white doily across the back like a medal of honor. Calvin takes off his boots at the door, hangs his hat on a coat rack beside it, and motions with a sweep of his palm towards the sofa. Taking a seat there, he lays an arm across the back, and therefore, around Natsuki, when she joins him. "I got a few ideas. Power is power," he says. "There's a few I've seen, and a lot I've heard of, that'd fit that bill. You want to, I can go down the list," he offers. "I know you could handle it." He grins, at that. "But, y'know, I figure there's gotta be types of stories you'd click with more than others. Maybe you could tell me what speaks to you, and I can narrow it down to somethin' that's powerful and goes down smooth."
Natsuki Nuki	Natsuki, leaving the desire to become more powerful as seeds among the hearts of children, and laughing in escape to Pastor Fred with an all-too pleased "I love first!" cast behind her, had a mission the whole way through Ossabaw. Still, she knew how to roll through the ear and inspire, and... Wished someone had told her to start early, herself. It was self-defining advice. With Calvin, Natsuki's familiar handsiness receives affirmation and so she resolves once again to do so more, but wasn't so desperate as to jump the Marshal and force the topic right there on the steps of his porch. She was classy! She'd jump him inside, near the chairs and rugs. Thankfully, there's topics to be addressed first, and it was a weeknight. Doing a little lift-and-flick-off motion with alternating steps, she transitions inside, ducking through the door and led by a hand. Shouldering off her kimono jacket she sets that aside on the hatrack and follows a pace behind Calvin. Kodoku, trailing behind and dragging across the ground, joins her in a delayed scroll-up, shifting first into the cushion corner of the couch and then falling around it to spool in and draw to settling. Calvin sitting down next to her places him amongst the odd, warm-firm roll of 'lumbar support' that the tail at back provides, framing outer thigh on its way down to floor, so the sprawl-about becomes mutual quickly and increasingly with intent. "Of course I can handle it, but, there's types that'll fit right in and others that'll get utterly lost in the sauce. Let's see..." Natsuki moves to close her eyes, then, considering better of it, turns head and gazes down at Calvin while she talks. His reaction is just as precious as her pure thought. "I'm really of two minds about this," Natsuki admits without a hint of irony. "I want something... I'm already strong, but I have this feeling like I want something brutish, forceful, mighty. No, that's it right there," Snapping fingers, though the noise is more a thok that a tick due to the construction of her hands, Natsiki grins down at Calvin. "I want it to be mighty. Regal in its might, but, then at the same time... Even the darkest sage could be fine, ambition and ability is the other end of the need. Does that make sense? I mean," Natsuki leans in, voice lowered. "You know me, by now. Have an idea, at least."
Calvin Nash	Watched, Calvin smiles up at Natsuki, as if to ask 'what?' Of course, she has his attention and he has his answer, once she starts to give her answer. When she leans in, he chuckles. "Yeah, reckon I do." He takes some time just to take her in, to take in the sight of her looking down at him. Giving her shoulder a little squeeze, he offers, "'Regal in its might...' that narrows it down some. But, 'ambition, ability' too... well, that just about tears it." With her leaned close, he can reach out with his left hand and gingerly trace his fingers across her jaw. "Why go for one or the other, when you could have both?" he asks, caressing her cheek. "You want a demon from the Goetia," he concludes. "And I know one I reckon you'd love to meet. Ever hear of one called Eligor?" Calvin's COMP is on his arm, but he seems to get more enjoyment out of explaining it to Natsuki with his words. "He's big," he says, "Red armor, big... shoulder thing, cape," he says. "Yellow eyes like fireflies lookin' out at you from that helmet, horns goin' either way. Rides a horse with bright green eyes like a cat you shined a flashlight on in the night." His tone is almost like bedroom talk, at this point, hushed and excited all at once. "He's strong. He knows a lot 'bout the occult, he can tell you 'bout duels that'll happen in the future, he's in charge of a whole slew and he carries himself like he's somebody. And he's one of Lucifer's boys, so... ambition comes with all that, right out of the box." "Whatcha think?"
Natsuki Nuki	He reckons he does, and Natsuki blinks eyes pleased and slow, lifting chin and black-lipped wide smile to contemplate Calvin's suggestion fully and recall her own readings of the demons of the West. The Goetia... Natsuki nods a few times, then, eyes distant as she rumble-chirps a 'humu-humu', even as Calvin strokes cheek. Really, she rocks her chin into it, dark fringe-fuzz thick at the sides. "First is good, but both is better." She agrees purringly, then is called to recall and consider one demon in the specific. "He was a Duke... of something." She recites, 'doo-ku' loanwording in. "They all command legions, thirty-six or something, and they have various powers, but why Eligor?" She listens, and then, leans down slightly to look at Calvin's COMP. The image of Eligor displayed isn't quite as effective as a live showing, but Calvin evokes the positive aspects of the demon lord quite capably. "You're quite the poet, promo-cutter!" She praises, tapping the screen with the tip of index claw carefully. "The horns are a charm point, it's true. I wonder if the horse comes with? It probably does, hmm! I don't mind a little extra, obviously. . ." Something sparks in memory, and Natsuki looks up at Calvin. "I'm pretty sure there's a jaguar demon related to this one, isn't there? I remember -- Flauros? And, right, Lucifer! Fallen angels, mostly, right?" Sitting back, Natsuki looks away and into the room. "Lucifer's 'boys'. Yeah. You're an experienced summoner, so I'd think to ask you, is that making a commitment to the end product, to fuse demons like that? Does the resultant 'me', the combined 'us', still have the same hierarchal . . . connections?" It's something that clearly matters to her quite a bit.
Calvin Nash	"Oh, yeah," says Calvin. "The horse comes with." That's how Eligor's spoken of in the legends, so, of course, it'd have to be! On the topic of her loyalties, and whether that, too is includes, Calvin shakes his head. "The end result's more than the sum of the parts. Loyalty to God or Lucifer or whoever, that's about who the role is, not what went into it." "Take Chernobog, for example," he says. "Sure, it helped that he's all about endings and darkness and winter, and one of the demons that went into him guarded the door to the underworld. But there's a lotta ways to get to that. If I wanted to, I could fuse up an angel out of a fallen one and a fairy. Now," he says, "One of them'd tell God to sit on it and spin, and the other wouldn't pay him or Lucifer much mind. But I could do it," he concludes, gesturing outwards with his free hand, "'Cause demons're all about feelings and themes, so fusion is, too."
Natsuki Nuki	Natsuki huyu-huyu-huyu laughs as Calvin confirms the horse comes with. "Good! I liked Hell Biker's ride - I think I've got a little fuel left in that, too - and maybe something with a little more thunder in the hooves will be nice! I've not really had cause to roll around like that, I just ran ran everywhere or took the bus or train, and then I got my little stormcloud cutie in the marriage to claws and stripes and stormy nights, and... huh! Haven't got a mag-nificent crown of horns like that one too, but the dark knight-" 'Daaruku Naito' "-look does hit hard. Yellow eyes like fireflies!" Huyu huyu huyu! "The end result will be more, of course, it's starting with me and adding things," Natsuki reaches back across to brush the back of index and middle knuckle across Calvin's cheek, amused, and returning the earlier motion in warm echo. "-but the thought occurred to me." A pause. "That I'd have a pretty significant other in me, and they'd have loyalties too. So reckoning that with who and what I am would be important. And making guesses on what kind of entity that is, to bargain with, is important. But, if I would be signing up for the Blood War between Heaven and Earth - I mean, I can if the price is right, you know, but I'd want more than thirty six legions, a horse, and horns, you know? I'm not that cheep. I can get a horse." Chernobog is a great example, though, and one that Natsuki immediately understands. "Feelings and themes. Feelings and themes. Okay, Marshal, tell me. You seem to know about him, not of him. Is there one close? Someone with that mantle, that we could go see? Barter, or 'bargain'?" 'Bargain' matches a particular lengthening of claw, a sharpness to her smile.
Calvin Nash	"I like that laugh of yours," Calvin fondly notes. He smiles at the warmth of her fingers on his cheek, reaching up to gently catch her hand for a soft, ephemeral squeeze as it retreats. "Close? No, uh-uh," says Calvin. "But I wouldn't'a brought 'im up if I didn't know where he was, to go see 'im. And with the Terminals, 'close' is all about perspective, anyway." "I got a big trip I'm 'on have to make, for work," he says, with a certain resignation that hints it isn't work he anticipates enjoying. "If times was better, I'd offer to get a message out to 'im on that trip, but I ain't sure it wouldn't get... found, by people that ain't too happy with his side of the fence right now, and don't trust the Assembly much neither." "But," he says, brightening up after a freshening breath to expel the faint dread of a trip not warmly anticipated, "After that's over, you and me, we can head to McGill, Nevada, and I can make an introduction. Me and him worked together once. You'll like 'im. Real polite fella." "As far as what to offer 'im, well, you're pretty damned good at that. You'd'a made a good Marshal. Just take your time, get a feel for what makes 'im tick, speak his language."