strangetrip | [GP/EP] You're not clear of story out here

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[GP/EP] You're not clear of story out here

Even before she knew for certain that it was the first of a month, Snow’s body had started bracing for it. She was wary and tense, preparing to cope with yet more people in the space of the hotel. It seemed that no sooner had she adjusted to whoever had showed up the last time, there was someone new again.

She didn’t want anything to do with the lot of it. That was what those busy women on the welcome committee were for. She didn’t think the committee was a stupid thing, not at all. Focusing on settling new people in kept the lot of them busy and away from her, and that was where she wanted them. They terrified her.

Snow White had only come into the main building to forage for food. The original plan was of course to turn right back around and escape before the expected rush (small or large) of new people to flood in.

But that was of course not what happened. When a universe was a pocket, it had less to focus on and fewer people to fuck with, and so Snow was entirely certain it was fucking with her when she was the one in the lobby when a new face came through the door.

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"Of course, darling," Phryne replied warmly, arrested in the process of sailing past toward the peculiar but interesting music coming from the cafe. "You may always ask me anything you like." She flashed Alcuin a playful smile. "I may even answer."

"Thank you, Phryne," Alcuin said. "Though only if you have a few moments. It is a rather broad question."

"I have nothing pressing," she replied and gestured elegantly toward the empty seat beside him. "Shall I sit?"

"Please do," said Alcuin. "What I'm wondering about is... religion. I know that many people here come from different places, but there does seem to be an overarching shared context. I'd like to know about the dominant religions that people here are familiar with."

At that, Phryne laughed in quiet amusement. "You'd be better off asking my companion, Dot." Although Dot would probably only tell him about Catholicism. "I'm hardly the religious type. In fact, most of our religions would damn me to hell, I expect, but never mind that."

She gestured idly with one hand as though dismissing the subject. "Perhaps a good half of the world believes in some permutation of one God, and their religions are descended one from another. The Jews came first, then a messiah was believed to have been born by some of them, and not others. Those that believed became Christians. Some centuries later, another prophet arose and others accepted him. They became Mohammedans. Then there are the other faiths, Buddhism, Confucianism, and dozens of tribal religions. I honestly don't know much about them, but I haven't run into any practitioners of those faiths here."

Alcuin considered this for a moment and then said, "A messiah, the son of the One God?" he asked. "This is familiar... in my world, those who follow him are called the Yeshuites. And D'Angelines come from that tradition as well. Are there those who believe in angels?"

"Yes, exactly." How interesting that their worlds were so similar. "Angels are mentioned in all of the holy books that I know of. Kitty and Dot or Constance would know better than I about contemporary belief. Your D'Angelines believe in the Messiah?"

"Yes," said Alcuin. "But more importantly... we believe in Elua, who was born from the blood of Yeshua ben Yosef on the cross, and the tears of the Magdalene. When the One God disavowed him, he roamed the earth, eventually joined by a group of angels who protected him. They are the ones who founded Terre d'Ange."

"A deity born of the blood of a martyr and tears of a whore?" Phryne asked, and where someone else (Dot) might have been scandalized, she sounded delighted. "I must know more." She leaned closer, eyes alight and expression rapt.

Alcuin didn't care for the word 'whore.' If applied to a Servant of Namaah it was almost certainly an insult. But he knew that Phryne did not mean it that way.

"Actually, Phryne..." He hesitated. "As a bit of an aside, might I ask how, ah... whores, tend to be regarded in your world?"

A thought tickled the back of Phryne's mind but didn't quite form. It would, in time, or it would fade, she knew, and so answered, "Badly, as a general rule. But women have earned a living with their bodies since the beginning of time." As she'd told Dot about her sister. "It only concerns me if a lady of the evening isn't in command of her own body."

Alcuin found it odd how her answer was so gendered. Did men in this world not sell their bodies also? But he decided not to ask.

Instead he seemed to consider this for a moment and said, "One of the angels who traveled with Elua was called Naamah. When they needed food or shelter, she would lay with men for money. And she gave herself to the king of Persis in order to secure Elua's release when he was captured."

Phryne reflected on that for a moment herself, but it only took her a moment. "I have no interest in being paid for sex, but there is nothing I wouldn't do for the people I love. She must have cared for Elua deeply."

When ordinarily she might have questioned the truth of the story, it didn't seem pertinent in the moment. Alcuin certainly believed it, as Dot believed the dictates of Catholicism, and he seemed a little anxious about her responses. Assuring him she held no judgment for his faith mattered far more.

Alcuin nodded, and decided to finish this abbreviated tale of Elua. "Elua and the angels eventually settled in the area that would be Terre d'Ange. They were accepted there, and they stayed, and mingled with the people there. D'Angelines are their descendants, and Elua left us with a single precept - love as thou wilt."

At the unexpected denouement, Phryne raised her hand to cover her chest and her eyes shone softly with the brightness of the deeply touched. It took her several moments to reply genuinely, "How very lovely."

Jack had no intention of actually stopping in the new-arrival situation. Perhaps he should have had, as he had every intention of acting in a police role should such a thing ever be called for in the Inn, but... there was something to be said for authority being maintained by distance.

Seeing Phryne seated in the Cafe almost changed his mind. Almost, because she seemed to be engaged, obviously quite happily so, in conversation with an extraordinarily beautiful young man. Almost, because she would certainly not welcome the interruption, he'd been clear that she remained her dear free self, and they'd already had one conversation about jealousy.

It hurt, of course it did, but strength of will and some amount of practice kept him moving without a generally-noticeable pause. Phryne would pick up on it, if she saw him at all, but hopefully she'd take the action for what it was; letting her have her freedom and privacy, rather than any sort of cold shoulder.

Alcuin of course had no idea that the newcomer had anything to do with them, and so took no notice of him. Instead he responded with a smile to Phryne's reaction to Elua's teachings.

"In Terre d'Ange, rape is the very highest form of heresy," Alcuin said. "But we celebrate all forms of consensual sex, and love. And there are those who follow in Naamah's footsteps. It is a religious calling."

"A religion I could follow wholeheartedly," Phryne murmured, her pleasure in them clear, even though her gaze had been distracted toward the object of her own affections. Her darling inspector had caught sight of her, and her companion she had no doubt, from the hesitation in his step and the all but invisible flinch of pain.

She also had no doubt that Jack meant to give her space to enjoy her freedom, dear sweet man, but even if she had been inclined to try to bed Alcuin (and admittedly she was curious, although he seemed young to her, a protectee, rather than a partner), she would never do so in lieu of him.

"Will you hold that thought, Alcuin?" The reason was evident, since she immediately tipped her head, beckoning, and called quietly, "Jack, darling," speaking the endearment in public, and with a very different intonation than how she used it casually, for the first time.

Jack very carefully didn't make any kind of face at Phryne's call. Not one that said he was pleased to be called, nor one of frustration; hadn't they agreed - silently, mostly, but nonetheless - that he would not be asked to witness these things?

But of course he walked over at the beckon. It wasn't impossible to ignore, no, but a minor injury wasn't worth the fight it could start. "Miss Fisher." It would take a while to shift to using her first name in public, when her life wasn't in danger, but Jack had worked out long ago how to make the more formal address sound more like endearment. "Having a good evening, I hope."

Naturally, Phryne noted both the lack of change in Jack's affect and the genteel affection in his greeting. It took but a few heartbeats to recognize the likely source of his muted pleasure in her presence. He'd misperceived her intentions as acknowledgment rather than affirmation, which called for a somewhat different strategy than she'd previously conceived.

"Very pleasant, though more so if you'll join us," she replied with a gesture that included her companion. "I'd hoped I might see you later, but now and later will do nicely, if you're not otherwise engaged?"

Later, or now and later? So she wasn't angling for anything with the young man... and now that Jack was closer in, he wasn't surprised. The emphasis in young man would have to go on young, and Phryne's paramours were generally closer to her own age.

He smiled slightly. Polite civility to the eyes of others, but Phryne would read it as well as she generally did. "No one's killed anyone yet, and no one's decided that being trapped in a small group is a good time to start thieving. As a result, I'm quite free." There were any number of things he probably should be doing, but they were all, to a greater or lesser extent, just busywork.

There, now, that was better, and Phryne's smile radiated approval for Jack's availability -- as well as his choice of words. Another man might use the word 'free' unthinkingly, but given the importance they both placed on her freedom, Jack would not. Instead, she felt he meant to assure her that he'd been prepared to respect her freedom and that he joined them now as a product of his own free choice.

She gestured to the seat beside her, clearly indicating a preference for having him physically close. "In that case, may I present Alcuin no Delaunay?" And, smiling at Alcuin then, "Alcuin, meet my very dear friend, Detective Inspector Jack Robinson."

More than friends, that much was clear. But that only made Alcuin smile, and he politely offered his hand. "A pleasure to meet you. Is a detective a kind of soldier?" He was unsure if the problem was a language one, or another concept that he was not quite familiar with.

"Likewise, a pleasure." Jack shook the offered hand without hesitation, mentally placing Alcuin's accent as French - or similar to French, given that he didn't know what a detective was when, historically speaking, a Frenchman had all but invented the job. "It's not dissimilar in some ways, but no. I investigate crimes and apprehend those responsible for committing them." Or he had, before the Inn, and there had been nothing yet that required his efforts.

"The Detective Inspector is too modest," Phryne demurred. Inwardly, it delighted her to have an opportunity to boast of Jack's investigative prowess. She adored him for it, and shared conversation with another gave her a genteel way to show it. "He's quite the best detective on the entire police force." She turned a sly, but infinitely fond smile on her most darling Jack and added, "With my help, of course."

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