justonetruth | (no subject)

Entry tags:

*au,
hakuba saguru

(no subject)

[Here again. Thankfully, he's human today, much more convenient than his seal form.

The mansion seems less crowded than before, or at least he's running into fewer people than last time. Just his luck. In a form where he can easily interact with humans, but none around to talk to.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Hakuba is not up for a fight with anyone. Close to the ocean, he might stand a chance, pull the water up around him with a surge of tide. In the mansion, all he can do is hope the witch goes away.]

Are you certain?

[Hesitation is never good.]

...You could tell me about that otherness of yours.

[yes surely this is the most graceful way out for both of them]

I am nothing other than what I've always been.

I know you have it in you to be more clear than that.

Just give me an answer and I'll be on my way.

Often, in western mythology, to know the name of something means you gain the ability to exert control over it. I have no interest in giving you any power over me that you do not already posess.

I'm asking what, not who. [the familiar impatience is beginning to show through; she's made up her mind and will not be deterred] Unless you have a True name other than Hakuba Saguru, I'm already more than capable of exerting as much power as I please.

Or would you prefer I take the information by force?

[it's a half-bluff; if she concentrates on that not-right-ness, focuses on thinking of him as a stranger, it's easier]

If you can't think why knowing what I am might give you an advantage, then you need to brush up on your mythology.

[He's going to bet on her being more inclined towards mindgames than brute force.]

Rest assured, I mean you no harm.

An advantage I've already stated I don't need.

And believe me, I'm hardly worried about anything you could do to me.

Then it shouldn't matter what I am, should it?

It matters enough. Are you going to tell me or not?

[if he flat-out refuses her, she will find a way to determine it herself, she swears. He's been far too cagey already— just what is he hiding?]

No. I have no intention of telling you anything.

[she doesn't bother with further threats—instead she's there, quicker than should be possible, her hair floating in the updraught of crackling aura as she grabs for his upper arm]

Let go!

[He bares his teeth like a cornered animal, tries to pull back away from the witch. There is water running through the walls, sliding through the pipes, and Saguru pulls, tries to call on the strength of the moon and the pulse of the tides.

The pipes creak, water backing up, but nothing changes. He is a selkie, he is terrified of the inevitable capture and enslavement that he knows will come when the witch (when anyone) knows what he is.]

[her grip only tightens when he tries to pull away, nails biting into the cloth of his jacket, and she feels that pull the instant it begins—the surge and rush of water, the oceans, the tide.

Akako holds on despite his struggling and the threatening groan of the pipes, eyes narrowed as she seeks a more definitive answer. Too strong for a pond or lake dweller. The wrong flavour for a spirit or demon of Japan. Too animistic for a merperson. She wracks her brain for what other western water beings she knows. Kelpie, or...]

...Selkie.

[the pronouncement is quiet, perfectly pronounced English, devoid of power or claim—more a confirmation to herself than anything. Even so, it hangs in the magicked air like a piece clicking into place, confirming her assumption.

She lets go the moment she feels that click, moving fast in case he decides to lash out. Her hair falls back to its normal hang as she withdraws]

There now, that wasn't so difficult, was it?

[His eyes turn dark, flicking from human to other, and he finally pulls the water out from the pies, drags a wave, a wall between himself and the witch. He does not want to be here, but he is not quite ready to run yet. He needs to know what the witch will do next.]

[she clutches her necklace in readiness, her own eyes dark but steady, measuring him, unafraid. Too late she realizes that she may have invited a threat where there was none before, but she can't bring herself to care. He doesn't know about the others and she's convinced that he can't hold a candle to her own powers. All she has to do is make sure that no one ventures down to the beach.

She's done what she needed to do, but the waves confirm that he isn't weak enough for her to turn her back on him. So she watches, magic ready but not drawn, and says, calmly,]

That's all.

Don't ever do that again. [It's more the panic of a cornered animal than any real maliciousness. He's afraid of her. He doesn't want to hurt anyone, especially not using his powers, because there is such a risk associated with discovery.

The water recedes, though it keeps flowing through the pipes and out onto the floor.]

All the legends about us... every single one, involve the enslavement of selkies by humans. You can understand why I might want to avoid letting people know what I am.

...I suppose that would be a concern.

[the people who have begged her for protection are bad enough, but beyond that she remembers, dimly, a time when she too could absolutely not afford to reveal her powers to the public.

How long ago was that, now?

She looks tired again, for a moment]

Rest assured, no one will hear about it from me.

Forgive me, witch, if I do not trust you.

[the words sting unexpectedly, and her expression flickers with surprise before she's able to retreat inside detachment. It means nothing, he's a stranger. You know that]

You're welcome to believe what you want, but you're greatly overestimating your importance to me. I have what I wanted.

[she turns to go]

You have what you wanted. [What Hakuba wants is to be left alone. What this version of the witch wants might just be information, but he doesn't trust her half as far as he can throw her.]

What I want to know is why you decided you had to force the information out of me.

You weren't forthcoming with it.

[as if that explained everything. Not stopping as she answers, either]

You had no right. [He follows behind her, pulled in her wake as she walks away.]

Rights fall far behind necessity, I'm afraid.

It was not a necessity.