Re: A Light in the Darkness
Posted: Fri May 02, 2014 11:27 pm
Lucian looked thoughtful for a moment, after which something like a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, behind his tentacles. "I've never had the... dubious pleasure of entertaining another Void Weaver as a mate, and have never wanted for anything throughout much of my life. Considering, I remain ignorant of the finer points of our world-renowned egg stew..."
Giuseppe grimaced slightly. "I've eaten some of it, once. That was shortly before Messere Lucian purchased me. Back on the surface, I once spoke to English ship mates. They spoke to me of porridge. It is dried and cut wheat grains cooked in water. The starch binds with the water and creates a gruel. It seems bland and unappetizing, but went very well with fruits.
Suffice it so say, egg stew is like this, only much worse. Bitter and salty."
Even Nereus had to wince at this. "I understand how my own species mates, naturally, but I am like yourself, Lucian. I find no pleasure in submissiveness and would not want to stand as another Weaver's thrall, either. At best, you'll find me massaging my egg sacs once or twice a year."
He briefly looked at Meris. "You've briefly had other masters, but our sacs are located at the base of the throat. I am told that certain displays can drive Weaver couples to stimulate one another's throat with our tentacles. We're driven to share liplocks at the apex, and exchange eggs. Our mouth then produces the enzymes that would fertilize the eggs. Once the taste becomes uncomfortable, we spit the mixture out in water bowls. As the water turns to jelly over the course of several weeks, we shift to larger vessels."
Lucian nodded. "All the while, our juveniles are devouring one another. Only the strongest two or three fertilized eggs survive. Soon, the later stages of their maturation requires a small pond or an easy access to the lake's shores. They are born like your infants, Meris, but grow to their adult size within a few hours. Some have pinned our lack of infancy or childhood to the Others' impatience, others see it as a form of adaptation to our treacherous lives. The sooner a child is physically mature, the sooner he may confront the world independently.
We say these hours belong to Harrogath, as juveniles care for nothing but food. They require immense quantities of fuel to grow as fast as they do, lest their own shifting bodies condemn them to various malformations."
The old Lord sighed. "Our malformed offspring are sent to the slave markets, if they survive. I've seen several who suffered from nothing except learning disabilities in regards to the Mad Arts, and more whose only fault involved suffering from some form of mental retardation. Those with broken bodies generally do not live long."
Giuseppe looked uncertain. "Weren't we supposed to find something fun to talk about?"
That made Nereus scoff. "Well - that still is a facet of our culture that warranted a brief bit of exposition. We'll think of something for those unfortunates, I'm sure. That said, I can see how slaves would find egg stew to be a degrading food to eat."
Giuseppe grimaced slightly. "I've eaten some of it, once. That was shortly before Messere Lucian purchased me. Back on the surface, I once spoke to English ship mates. They spoke to me of porridge. It is dried and cut wheat grains cooked in water. The starch binds with the water and creates a gruel. It seems bland and unappetizing, but went very well with fruits.
Suffice it so say, egg stew is like this, only much worse. Bitter and salty."
Even Nereus had to wince at this. "I understand how my own species mates, naturally, but I am like yourself, Lucian. I find no pleasure in submissiveness and would not want to stand as another Weaver's thrall, either. At best, you'll find me massaging my egg sacs once or twice a year."
He briefly looked at Meris. "You've briefly had other masters, but our sacs are located at the base of the throat. I am told that certain displays can drive Weaver couples to stimulate one another's throat with our tentacles. We're driven to share liplocks at the apex, and exchange eggs. Our mouth then produces the enzymes that would fertilize the eggs. Once the taste becomes uncomfortable, we spit the mixture out in water bowls. As the water turns to jelly over the course of several weeks, we shift to larger vessels."
Lucian nodded. "All the while, our juveniles are devouring one another. Only the strongest two or three fertilized eggs survive. Soon, the later stages of their maturation requires a small pond or an easy access to the lake's shores. They are born like your infants, Meris, but grow to their adult size within a few hours. Some have pinned our lack of infancy or childhood to the Others' impatience, others see it as a form of adaptation to our treacherous lives. The sooner a child is physically mature, the sooner he may confront the world independently.
We say these hours belong to Harrogath, as juveniles care for nothing but food. They require immense quantities of fuel to grow as fast as they do, lest their own shifting bodies condemn them to various malformations."
The old Lord sighed. "Our malformed offspring are sent to the slave markets, if they survive. I've seen several who suffered from nothing except learning disabilities in regards to the Mad Arts, and more whose only fault involved suffering from some form of mental retardation. Those with broken bodies generally do not live long."
Giuseppe looked uncertain. "Weren't we supposed to find something fun to talk about?"
That made Nereus scoff. "Well - that still is a facet of our culture that warranted a brief bit of exposition. We'll think of something for those unfortunates, I'm sure. That said, I can see how slaves would find egg stew to be a degrading food to eat."