RE: a Fortuna fic - Not A Cult
05-23-2018, 10:27 AM
Not A Cult
2
As the self-appointed leader of Cth’leoth’s newest secret society (name yet to be decided), Wiph decided that the next best thing to do was to get their third member, as quickly as possible. You could do without a fourth for quite a while, get around the mill-house a few times, but you could hardly make it up the steps with just two. He considered his options carefully.
He, obviously, was the group’s leader. He’d manage diplomatic arrangements, allocation of effort and resources, that sort of thing. And if worst came to worst, he could always rely on his knowledge in the art of kickboxing, although that tended to leave him with sore feet.
Then, there was Lysandre. While he didn’t know her that well, he was pretty sure from the five minutes he’d spent talking with her that she’d be great at undercover operations, technical assistance and counter-propaganda. Plus she could fly, probably.
But they still needed someone with a bit more… worldly experience, he’d say. Someone who was a hands-on kind of fella, who’d could be trusted to get right into the thick of things, fighting, planning, whatever. He surveyed the remaining candidates around the other tables.
There were plenty of Boog, of course, standing around their projectors and chatting to each other, probably about pharmaceuticals. But Wiph would’ve preferred a member who didn’t have to pick themselves up first if they needed to make a fast exit. Maybe the Metaparxi hanging by the bar? He’d worked with them in the past. But they always fostered this passive-aggressive kind of relationship, which wouldn’t work for the aesthetic he wanted. He needed someone with just the right balance of submissive and tenacious, who’d follow orders but also think for themselves. This cut out most of the other diners, except for…
Yep, there was a Husse at the back, tipping his beverage down his throat cheerfully. He had a backpack slung over his chair and returned Wiph’s look with an easy grin, before returning to his drink.
Perfect.
Now all Wiph had to do was reel him in, get him invested. He stood up and walked over, assuming Lysandre was following (she was. After a bit).
“Hi there, I’m Wiph. What’s your name? =u+” The Husse paused for a moment, before launching into what sounded like a rehearsed advertisement.
“I’m Hawk. Hawk the bard, good for a lark and a song, I run a fast yard, and easily get along.” At the last word, his demeanor broke and he started laughing. “Sorry, sorry, couldn’t resist.” He calmed down and continued, this time with a slightly more serious face. “As I said, I’m a bard. I travel a lot, and it helps if you’ve got a catchy way to sell yourself to an audience, around these parts. Anyway, how can I help you?”
Wiph looked around to make sure no one was listening, before leaning in towards the Husse and speaking with a quiet voice.
“Well, me and my friend here (Lysandre sputtered, earning an odd look from Hawk) are part of quite a secret organisation, and we have a very important mission, very classified. Recently, we’ve started looking into the possibilities of a new member, and we think you might be just the right person.”
“Mm? Why’s that?”
“We’ve been watching you closely for some time now. You’ve passed tests you didn’t even know about. Trust me, you’re exactly what we need. =u+”
Hawk raised his eyebrow at the Notail, who he was pretty sure hadn’t noticed his existence until five minutes ago. But his mother had always said you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He hadn’t had a gig in a week, and Boogs generally tried to give him pamphlets and dubious-looking bottles whenever he tried busking. This Notail fella looked like a good person, and besides, it might be fun.
“Alright, sure. What’s this organisation called?”
“Oh, we can’t tell you that quite yet.” Wiph thought for a moment before continuing. “But, hypothetically speaking, if you were to give it a name, what would it be? Just asking for… archival purposes.”
“Uh-huh. Well, you sure seem to be incredibly secretive, so maybe something like, hm, ‘The Circle of Shadows’?”
“Ugh, no, that’s a terrible name! People will definitely think we’re evil if that’s our name, it’s way too edgy.”
“And, we’re not evil?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, how about ‘The Fellowship of the Night’?”
“No, no, that’s too eldritch, we’re not summoning demons or anything. =u+”
“Umm, ‘The Keepers of Mystery’?”
“Look, it’s not like we’re ancient guardians holding secret knowledge to stop its power from falling into the wrong hands, ok? We’re just… doing things, regular things, that we think are good things to do but happen to be against the law, nothing special. And stop trying to force it into that X of Y format, its very unoriginal. Lysandre, get in on this, what do you think would be a good name?”
“Well its not like you’ve actually told me yet…” Hawk grumbled to himself.
“Uh, well,” she cocked her head, trying desperately to come up with something that might possibly fit Wiph’s approval. “What about ‘The Bone’s, umm… Rose’.”
Wiph and Hawk stared at her blankly for a few moments.
“…What?” said Hawk.
“I was being put on the spot!” They started arguing.
Meanwhile, Wiph was rolling the name around in his mouth. Hm. It’d do, at least for now. They could hash out the details later.
“Okay!” he said, interrupting the others, “That’s our name! =u+ Good work Lysandre, keep this up and you’ll get a promotion in no time. I think I’ll need to talk to you at our next performance evaluation though, Hawk.”
“Wait I thought you guys already had a name?” Hawk felt slightly confused, and indignant. People loved his performances! Except that one time with the pineapple and yoyo. But that was never going to happen again, he’d promised himself.
“Rule number one of being in a cult, always let on more than you know. Maybe we do have a name. Maybe we don’t. Maybe that whole discussion was a test for you and Lysandre was pretending. Always keep your enemies guessing. Which also involves keeping your members guessing. You’ve got to be pretty clever to keep track of these things. =u+” He tapped his head. “I don’t blame you for getting mixed up, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it eventually Hawk.”
Hawk just humphed, and looked away. A second later he turned back again.
“Wait did you just say you were a cult?!”
“Diiiiiid Iiiii? =u+” They couldn’t see it, but Wiph was grinning widely under his mask. This had already been more interesting than the previous three days put together.
“Yes you did. I’ve got a right to know what I’m getting myself into.”
“Oh. Well if you must know, and it seems like you must if you’re going to be a useful member, ‘cult’ is our codeword for,” He leaned in closer, his voice a whisper, “Secret society.” He leaned back again. “Obviously if you tell anyone we’ll kill you, etc etc. But I think that just about covers your initiation! Any further questions?”
Hawk thought for minute, then opened his mouth. “Well-”
Suddenly, a dishevelled-looking Pagepoh burst into the restaurant shouting wildly. Hawk wasn’t particularly knowledgeable in the realm of fashion, but words like “fabulous” and “extravagant” came to his mind as apt descriptions of her attire.
“Somebody, anybody, help! My brother’s been stolen!” She wailed.
Wiph turned to the others.
“Hmm, I wonder what could’ve happened? =u+ ”
2
As the self-appointed leader of Cth’leoth’s newest secret society (name yet to be decided), Wiph decided that the next best thing to do was to get their third member, as quickly as possible. You could do without a fourth for quite a while, get around the mill-house a few times, but you could hardly make it up the steps with just two. He considered his options carefully.
He, obviously, was the group’s leader. He’d manage diplomatic arrangements, allocation of effort and resources, that sort of thing. And if worst came to worst, he could always rely on his knowledge in the art of kickboxing, although that tended to leave him with sore feet.
Then, there was Lysandre. While he didn’t know her that well, he was pretty sure from the five minutes he’d spent talking with her that she’d be great at undercover operations, technical assistance and counter-propaganda. Plus she could fly, probably.
But they still needed someone with a bit more… worldly experience, he’d say. Someone who was a hands-on kind of fella, who’d could be trusted to get right into the thick of things, fighting, planning, whatever. He surveyed the remaining candidates around the other tables.
There were plenty of Boog, of course, standing around their projectors and chatting to each other, probably about pharmaceuticals. But Wiph would’ve preferred a member who didn’t have to pick themselves up first if they needed to make a fast exit. Maybe the Metaparxi hanging by the bar? He’d worked with them in the past. But they always fostered this passive-aggressive kind of relationship, which wouldn’t work for the aesthetic he wanted. He needed someone with just the right balance of submissive and tenacious, who’d follow orders but also think for themselves. This cut out most of the other diners, except for…
Yep, there was a Husse at the back, tipping his beverage down his throat cheerfully. He had a backpack slung over his chair and returned Wiph’s look with an easy grin, before returning to his drink.
Perfect.
Now all Wiph had to do was reel him in, get him invested. He stood up and walked over, assuming Lysandre was following (she was. After a bit).
“Hi there, I’m Wiph. What’s your name? =u+” The Husse paused for a moment, before launching into what sounded like a rehearsed advertisement.
“I’m Hawk. Hawk the bard, good for a lark and a song, I run a fast yard, and easily get along.” At the last word, his demeanor broke and he started laughing. “Sorry, sorry, couldn’t resist.” He calmed down and continued, this time with a slightly more serious face. “As I said, I’m a bard. I travel a lot, and it helps if you’ve got a catchy way to sell yourself to an audience, around these parts. Anyway, how can I help you?”
Wiph looked around to make sure no one was listening, before leaning in towards the Husse and speaking with a quiet voice.
“Well, me and my friend here (Lysandre sputtered, earning an odd look from Hawk) are part of quite a secret organisation, and we have a very important mission, very classified. Recently, we’ve started looking into the possibilities of a new member, and we think you might be just the right person.”
“Mm? Why’s that?”
“We’ve been watching you closely for some time now. You’ve passed tests you didn’t even know about. Trust me, you’re exactly what we need. =u+”
Hawk raised his eyebrow at the Notail, who he was pretty sure hadn’t noticed his existence until five minutes ago. But his mother had always said you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He hadn’t had a gig in a week, and Boogs generally tried to give him pamphlets and dubious-looking bottles whenever he tried busking. This Notail fella looked like a good person, and besides, it might be fun.
“Alright, sure. What’s this organisation called?”
“Oh, we can’t tell you that quite yet.” Wiph thought for a moment before continuing. “But, hypothetically speaking, if you were to give it a name, what would it be? Just asking for… archival purposes.”
“Uh-huh. Well, you sure seem to be incredibly secretive, so maybe something like, hm, ‘The Circle of Shadows’?”
“Ugh, no, that’s a terrible name! People will definitely think we’re evil if that’s our name, it’s way too edgy.”
“And, we’re not evil?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, how about ‘The Fellowship of the Night’?”
“No, no, that’s too eldritch, we’re not summoning demons or anything. =u+”
“Umm, ‘The Keepers of Mystery’?”
“Look, it’s not like we’re ancient guardians holding secret knowledge to stop its power from falling into the wrong hands, ok? We’re just… doing things, regular things, that we think are good things to do but happen to be against the law, nothing special. And stop trying to force it into that X of Y format, its very unoriginal. Lysandre, get in on this, what do you think would be a good name?”
“Well its not like you’ve actually told me yet…” Hawk grumbled to himself.
“Uh, well,” she cocked her head, trying desperately to come up with something that might possibly fit Wiph’s approval. “What about ‘The Bone’s, umm… Rose’.”
Wiph and Hawk stared at her blankly for a few moments.
“…What?” said Hawk.
“I was being put on the spot!” They started arguing.
Meanwhile, Wiph was rolling the name around in his mouth. Hm. It’d do, at least for now. They could hash out the details later.
“Okay!” he said, interrupting the others, “That’s our name! =u+ Good work Lysandre, keep this up and you’ll get a promotion in no time. I think I’ll need to talk to you at our next performance evaluation though, Hawk.”
“Wait I thought you guys already had a name?” Hawk felt slightly confused, and indignant. People loved his performances! Except that one time with the pineapple and yoyo. But that was never going to happen again, he’d promised himself.
“Rule number one of being in a cult, always let on more than you know. Maybe we do have a name. Maybe we don’t. Maybe that whole discussion was a test for you and Lysandre was pretending. Always keep your enemies guessing. Which also involves keeping your members guessing. You’ve got to be pretty clever to keep track of these things. =u+” He tapped his head. “I don’t blame you for getting mixed up, I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it eventually Hawk.”
Hawk just humphed, and looked away. A second later he turned back again.
“Wait did you just say you were a cult?!”
“Diiiiiid Iiiii? =u+” They couldn’t see it, but Wiph was grinning widely under his mask. This had already been more interesting than the previous three days put together.
“Yes you did. I’ve got a right to know what I’m getting myself into.”
“Oh. Well if you must know, and it seems like you must if you’re going to be a useful member, ‘cult’ is our codeword for,” He leaned in closer, his voice a whisper, “Secret society.” He leaned back again. “Obviously if you tell anyone we’ll kill you, etc etc. But I think that just about covers your initiation! Any further questions?”
Hawk thought for minute, then opened his mouth. “Well-”
Suddenly, a dishevelled-looking Pagepoh burst into the restaurant shouting wildly. Hawk wasn’t particularly knowledgeable in the realm of fashion, but words like “fabulous” and “extravagant” came to his mind as apt descriptions of her attire.
“Somebody, anybody, help! My brother’s been stolen!” She wailed.
Wiph turned to the others.
“Hmm, I wonder what could’ve happened? =u+ ”