trans_9 | Pragmaholics Anonymous [Closed]

Entry tags:

Pragmaholics Anonymous [Closed]

Honestly, Ildraniath was rather relieved that she was finally finding others who shared her views on how this war ought to be run. Being trapped on a ship full of idealists was not high on her list of things to do while fighting a war. Idealism had its place - but not when your survival was on the line. Still, nothing to be done. She had lost and she had gaged them correctly - they valued experience over idealism, but only by small margin. And even then, that experience had to be couched in terms they could rationalize as fitting within their own rather narrow moral viewpoint. Rather dull, but that was what she expected of mon-keigh.

She was waiting in the park, hands folded into her robe's sleeves. She was supposed to be meeting Iniss here. An interesting sort and if his sordid past was to be believed, a not altogether "good" person. At least by human standards. He could be a useful ally, however. She was, after all, rather short on allies.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Iniss wasn't really sure what to think. the conversation had been interesting, refreshingly pragmatic for someone who had spent half a year surrounded by preachy morons who couldn't be appeased without you doing something dramatic. Like offing yourself.

Honestly he wasn't sure if offing himself would have satisfied them.

But regardless, with Zouchi's warning and interesting statements still lingering on his mind, he would go to meet her. His face was even nearly healed, nose still slightly crooked, but the bruises had faded.

"Lady Ildraniath, I presume?" His pronunciation was perfect, offering her a respectful half bow in greeting.

Ildraniath dipped her head in a slight nod of acknowledgement; truly, her robe was a crude copy of the elegance and refinement that might've been available to her on the craftworld of Ulthwe, but it was better than nothing.

"Yes; you would be Iniss?"

She arched one brow slightly in an interrogative and then she flicked her finger, wrist twisting slightly in a gesture that clearly indicated that he should follow. Being unable to read the lines of fate here was frustrating. SHe felt blind - but she would have to persevere.

"Farseer or simply Ildraniath will suffice. I am a relative newcomer to the ship, but I have heard your story. An interesting one, to say the least."

"I would be, yes." He inclined his head, smiling politely. "Of course, Farseer. As you wish."

He followed, nothing if not obedient to a higher authority. This was a well known pattern, a Visser would accept no disrespect. Nor, he thought, would this woman. Though she seemed remarkably more sane than most Visser's he had encountered. "If you have heard my story, then I'm sure the level of interest would depend entire on who was telling it. There are several versions of it to be heard. What have you heard?"

Much saner, in fact. She glanced at him for a moment as they walked, a thin, humorless smile curving her lips. "I have heard that you should not be trusted; that you are a slug and a terrible being and that you have controlled another's body from within. You have interesting enemies."

"And I believe many have said the same of you, Farseer." He smiled. "I think 'terrible' is relative, honestly, but yes, my species is parasitic. I arrived on this ship with an unwilling human host. A teenager, though that is mostly meaningless. They regard anyone under an arbitrary age a child. But yes, all of that is true, though likely skewed beyond understanding. Which one did you meet? I assume at least one of them posted something about how horrible and awful I was and how often I ate babies. They have a habit of never letting up. No understanding of compromise." He rolled his eyes, spreading his hands in a quiet gesture of helplessness. "The non-humans on board are so much more practical."

"Ah, one of them posted a torrid story to the public network," she kept her smile small, reserved. It was still a sign of her amusement. "A woman, I believe, although I did not attempt to discern their identity. Apparently you're terrible for using another species to further your own advancement."

She rolled one shoulder in a slight shrug, "Better that they do not know what my people have done to survive, then. I am sure I would be called a monster or worse, when their people would doubtless do the same thing if they were faced with the same dire straits. Hypocrites, the lot of them. At least we do not pretend that our hands are clean."

"Ah, I'm certian it was Eva, then. She is the best spoken of them. Marco is a child and Loren and Rachel are not that witty. But yes, she is a former host and therefore paints us all with the same brush. I have grown cold to her complaints. She repeats them endlessly. Though I find it amusing that they tout free will, but the human boy chose to remain under my control because he viewed it the most useful choice, and because it was not the choice they thought he should have made they won't let the issue go."

He snorted. "Humans, all humans, are the quickest to cry morality and the last to follow it. And oft times their broken morality becomes the thing that causes the most damage. Saving people, heroes." He shook his head. "I have not lied once since boarding this ship. I am certian none of them can say the same. The truth is a much more useful thing."

"Saving people can be admirable, useful even. But what good are individuals against the good of thousands? Millions? Billions?" One finger flicked in a slight gesture of dismissal.

"Truth is useful. It is all in how it is used, however. How it is presented and packaged."

She smiled coldly.

"...at least idealists can be pointed in the right direction by telling them something dear to them is threatened."

"Cut your loses. It's the only practical choice. You can't save everyone, you can't even try to save everyone. But what you can do is save a majority." He shrugged, smiling just as coolly in return. "Why lie? The truth is a frightfully effective weapon. A lie can be disproved, the truth can only be accepted."

He shook his head. "Pointed to charge like lemmings over the nearest cliff-side as they writhe in moral ecstasy."

"Such descriptive imagery," Ildraniath replies with a wry grin, "But accurate enough. I realize we do not have as much influence as can be hoped on this ship, but I think there may be something we can do to make sure we aren't all killed on some foolish crusade."

"Oh? What do you suggest?" The last time a prideful alien had sought him out there had been bombs involved. She seemed a fair bit more clever than Shiva had, so he was willing, for the moment, to listen to him.

"That... is unfortunately still something I am considering," Ildraniath admitted with a small frown. "They hold most of the positions of power and attempting to seize the ship by force would be met with failure."

"Probably for the best, it hasn't worked out well for anyone else that has tried it. I think they're still digging bits of brain matter out of the pod caverns." He snorted, turning to face her. "The best I have at the moment is waiting, watching for opportunities. The ability to blend is slightly hampered by my current status of pariah, I'm sure if Eva posted something she drew the species out of the woodwork. I'd keep an eye on them, they have a bad habit, humans, of looking to the outsiders if something goes wrong first."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Pragmaholics Anonymous [Closed]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject