BPecan- Ismene #1

Ismene Theodorou sat before her small altar in the tavern's smallest upper room. The lizardman spent a moment of reflection as she burned the incense. Her mind wasn't truly where it should be on this holy day. The finely ground powder filling the room with the properly proscribed scent favored by Bastet had been charged by a human and endowed with his mana. She had thought to serve her tours in the military both for the natural joy she found in combat, and perhaps to find a mate. Her service in the Compact, the successor of the Order, had only succeeded in one of those ways. The military had rules about fraternization, she had learned to follow them, to get along with the humans. Yet she was still mateless.

The human mana intermingling with the pleasant smelling smoke made her jaw ache with the pain of what she lacked. The mana had been donated by an military comrade. Like most of her military comrades, he was still enlisted. Ismene hadn't extended her last tour of duty, though it had been made clear that she could be officer material. Cpt. Chochokpi Barrande had said so himself. As a fellow member of Bastet's Cult, he'd been more than happy to charge the ritual incense with his mana to celebrate today. After briefly holding the incense, his hands had pulsed, charging it. He had offered to join her in the ritual. Then after a moment looking into her eyes, he'd reconsidered and invited her celebrate at his local church instead. It had been a wise move on his part, the experienced military man could probably feel her aching with need. She'd had enough engagements under his command and experiences with him that she was absolutely certain the short and thin human would be a challenging opponent in a mating duel. She had learned much from him and the other servicemen.

She recalled moments from her tours of service, the many battlefields she spent fighting inhuman beasts that should not be, while in foreign planes that throbbed and reeked of strange energy. Her abstracted look of longing would've made any observer believe her to be in the middle of a romantic daydream. Despite the unusual subject matter, she actually was. In her mind, the short brown-skinned Cpt with pale eyes leapt and cut. As all good swordsmen, he moved like a dancer. With a slight step to the side, a vicious tentacle would pierce where he had been and taste the fine sweet edge of his blade. She'd seen him do this a number of times, it was nearly unbearable to serve with so many fine men when she couldn't institute the formal mating duel. Sweet Goddess why did the human rules not allow fraternization?

The room was steeped in his mana, thick and syrupy. The consistency was due to the military diet so focused on keeping the enlisted soldiers producing a surfeit of mana in conditions where such excess meant the difference betwixt life and death. Along with the rich sweet smoke of Bastet's favored herbs, it was so easy to imagine the Goddess favoring their pairing. It was even easier to see them dueling in her mind. Had they not practiced on occasion during her tours? In her mind, the reddish skin of Cpt. Barrande flushed with exertion as he parried her blade. The elegant footwork he used while circling, forcing her to overextend. How his thin short build concealed a strength that battered through her guard at such odd angles, making it so hard to dodge and recover her stance.

Ismene was so lost in memory, that she wasn't aware of how her body reacted in response. She had been kneeling before the altar in sieza, the formal posture proscribed for such incense burning. Now her torso was extended forward and nearly horizontal compared to the usual upright stance. Her claws were in the floor gripping the wood. Her ear-frills were at full extension, and the secondary inner eyelid of her kind was lowered. Ismene noticed none of this. She was too occupied to see how her tail rose upward in invitation or even hear the loud croaking mating call flow from her throat. Cpt Barrande was about to knock her guard beyond recovery, as he had in their practice bout. In her heart she dared hope that instead of stepping out of range and ending the match with a formal salute, he would shift forward and thrust or cut. Even a tap would do, oh how she needed to feel his blade. That moment of the duel played forward in her mind and her twitching body. Just as he broke her guard and footwork beyond recovery, just as she was fully at his mercy, just when it was possible he could remotely decide to give her his blade in most unambiguous way possible -- the thin door to her rented room rattled with a series of angry knocks. Her secondary eyelids snapped open and she glared at the door as the tavern owner yelled at her to "keep it down in there".


Ismene snarled at the door then leapt forward at startling speed, in a swift smooth movement she turned the knob and swung the door open. At the sight of her face the tavern owner's hand, raised to knock, balked. Then, as if his body was only now catching up, it shook and he stumbled back. Seeing the large man stumble back brought her back to her senses, her ear-frills contracted, teeth and claws no longer bared. She cleared her throat, shifting to the standard military 'at ease' posture. "I'm sorry Maximilian. I may have started the festivities a bit early today.", said Ismene. The large tavern-man had recovered enough to frown at the use of his name.

"It's Max, not Maximilian. Whatda I keep telling you? It's five in the morning and you're up making a racket like a cat in heat. What festivities? Whadda are doing in there?", said the large man, probably rattled by her earlier grouchiness.

"Today is the day celebrating the Goddesses' sealing of Pirapasa, Max. I'm burning incense and...meditating in thanks.", said Ismene. Maximillion didn't look particularly convinced, but after a few moments of obtrusively looking past her into the room he seemed more accepting.

"Yeah. Just keep it down Isme. I thought...", he said trailing off, he cleared his throat and continued, "So who was this Papaya anyway?"

"Pirapasa, Max, is a city. There was a Compact military victory in the city. After that, the Goddesses sealed it against the Other and blessed it with Their glory.", said the lizardman stoically. At the word 'goddesses' Ismene had made the ritual 'Two Claws of Contented Stretching' gesture in emphasis of which goddess she credited most with the sealing. Now on more familiar ground, Max grinned and spoke more easily than he had in the conversation thus far.

"If there were soldiers, there was wine. You know that. I'm sure we got a lot to be grateful to thank the Goddesses for.", said Max, predictably making the 'Wobbling Mug that Inexplicably Finds its Way to Your Mouth' gesture of the Bacchus Cult. Ismene smiled, she wasn't particularly good at socializing. Max, who owned this tavern, was very easy to get along with. It hardly mattered that despite his large size, she was certain that she could disembowel him with barely any effort. While certainly not mating material, he was good friend material. A thought struck her. She tried to recall what he'd just said. Ah yes, the gesture.

"Well, I'd like to drink to that.", said Ismene, trying to make an effort despite not normally being one to drink, herself. She even remembered to smile without bearing her pointed teeth. Her time with the military was well spent, she thought, she'd put Max at ease and get his help with the complex and confusing human mating rituals. She'd prove to the Cpt. that she could lay strong eggs in no time at all! Ismene didn't notice how her ear-frills flapped in pleasure nor the sinuous movements of her tail. She barely noticed that Max's smile had frozen slightly.

"...yeah, I'll uh be down at the bar, we're about to open up anyway.", said the tavern owner, giving a nod and heading downstairs. She followed him down to the bar. The weak light of the dawning day was complementary to the somewhat dingy tavern. She took a stool at the bar, maneuvering her tail and claws carefully. The tavern wasn't in the best shape, but she didn't want to make things worse. Max was a likable man and well known to the Compact soldiers who often took their leave in the area.

"So, whadda ya want, Isme?", said Max, as he fiddle with mugs, barrels and taps with the air of a man who knew the slightest bit of these things. Ismene didn't know much about human society past what she'd learned in her service. She had a brief flash of gratitude that her fellow soldiers were so fond of drinking.

"I would like one wine, please.", said Ismene, placing as she folded her clawed hands in an effort to seem less threatening. Max quirked an eyebrow at her in expectation, when she simply kept smiling at him, he shrugged and filled a pitcher with a smooth practiced hand.


"Two silvers. Not that I don't mind the business, Isme, but you wanna talk 'bout something? We're open but business'll be slow for a while. No one's around.", said the bar-tending man as he finished filling the pitcher and placed it and a leather blackjack in front of her on the bar's discolored wood. Ismene brightened, he was being helpful. She took a small sip from the leather mug and made a moue of distaste before quickly setting it back down along with 2sp she fished from her coin purse.

"Yes, I do. I'd like to talk about human mating rituals.", she said. Max stilled momentarily, he gave a wince and a nod before leaning on the grimy bar a few arm lengths or so away from her.

"I'm kinda old to be fighting here, Is.", said the barkeep uncomfortably. She gave a small jolt of surprise. She liked the man well enough, but not in an egg-bearing way! She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand, before speaking again, "Just making sure, y'know. You're always with all o them soldier pals of yours, but you came by alone. I ain't no lizardman sort o pick, but sometimes people get kind of antsy." Ismene was glad that the man was so perceptive, though somewhat uncertain how he put things together so well.

"I'm not asking about you, Max. No offense, but human society is... confusing. There's a man who. I'd like to.", she sighed uncertain how to put the matter. Humans were so strange with all of their odd rules. Lizardman mating was simple, you challenged someone to a formal duel. If you lost you laid eggs with them. The military recruiters had made it very clear that this was not the human way. They had provided her and all other soldiers with a small but thick book on the subject. She had hoped that the small size would make it quick and light reading.

It wasn't, and the print was very fine. There were mana diagrams and complex ritual procedures. The first entry under the lizardman section had been three pages describing protocol violations, disciplinary actions, rules against fraternization, and the chain of command. Even the section describing the rules of safe mana transfer and the use of mana transmitters wasn't really helpful for navigating human mating. The little book insisted that mana transfer using the small enchanted transmitter stones issued to all personnel wasn't a sexual act among humans, but was "necessary for safely allowing the accumulation and decoupling of mana without inducing erosion within the human mantic biosystem" and "ensuring that mamono soldiers can increase the order of magnitude of the mana available to the military unit while engaging in mantic bio-sublimation of instinctual elements and forming non-exclusive rapport within the military unit and increasing mantic efficiency in a manner compatible with human social norms". Ismene had no clue what any of that meant, but everyone had made it very clear that she was always to have several of the small enchanted stones on her person and use them exactly as directed.

Any form of mana transfer not involving the stones was expressly prohibited. Several pages of prohibition and punishments had followed. It was if the book was written by a lawyer who neither liked nor knew her. Several of the mamono soldiers had mixed views on the little book they were all required to carry and read. Opinion of the book seemed to vary by species, and made her truly question how well the book was even written.

One of the enlisted demons had called the little book "proof that the human soul is capable of the deepest levels of romance". Out of curiosity, Ismene had looked at the chapter for demons. It had been a very complex and elaborate graph with hundreds of footnote numbers and a long listing of where to look them up in the text. The dozens of small numbers attached to the text in the lizardman chapter weren't random at all, and the little numbers were scattered across all of the sections of the small dense book. Apparently the writer actually expected the demons to assemble their section from randomly numbered chunks of text in all the other sections, and then order it using a painfully complex graph notated in some legal language.

When Ismene had suggested a formal complaint on the demon's behalf, Hisano Chikae, her fellow soldier had looked shocked at the idea. "I know the majority of it is cock-blocking", said the short demon while rolling her eyes, "but the bit of foreplay at the end, and the format itself are proof they care." Ismene had looked at her in confusion, she hadn't been able to get through her section. It was so dense, that inevitably she'd start over after hitting something she couldn't understand. Though she could read and write, Ismene wasn't much of a scholar. She'd just assumed that reading was like doing kata, where skipping to the end would be unhelpful.

The demon eyed her thoughtfully beneath hooded reddish eyes, with a lewd smile. "Oh. I see, you haven't gotten to the last subsection of the lizardman chapter yet? I never figured you to have such refined tastes as to enjoy the whole 'do not do this or else' section. You've envious self-control.", she said looking at Ismene with appraising eyes shifting her posture in a mamono gesture, giving an inviting flip of her reddish hair. Ismene coughed in embarrassment and told her the truth. Hisano had stared at her in disappointment. The short thin demon had huffed and then insisted that Ismene go off to read the entire lizardman section herself.

The lizardman heard Hisano muttering about her "ruined warrior-lawyer fetish" as Ismene went off to tackle the little manual in her tent. Hisano was a friend, skilled soldier and fellow mamono. Despite this, she wasn't sure what to make of her friend's bemoaning the lack of "ruffled collars" in the background. Vaguely aware that lawyers wore that peculiar bit of clothing, Ismene still wasn't sure what that had to do with anything. The demon's gesture of invitation had been flattering though, she wouldn't mind being egg-sisters with Hisano, but clearly the demon had overestimated Ismene's knowledge and enjoyment of the law.