~ The 25th 8ilunar Perigee of the 3rd Dim Season's Equinox. ~ It has 8een nearly a perigee since I last granted these pages the privilege of my attention. I am certain this will distress wh8ver imagined audience has taken to pressing its little face against the glass of my affairs. Let it. A depriv8tion may 8e instructive, and silence, when set loose among the needy, fattens wonderfully. My a8sence was not idleness. I have 8een called to meetings, feasts, negoti8tions, disciplinary amusements, and one argument with the Orphaner that 8egan as a dispute over cargo and ended, as many of our 8etter quarrels do, with neither of us admitting what was truly 8eing contested. He claimed certain captives taken near the eastern shoals were naval property 8y imperial right. I reminded him that imperial right is a charming phrase often used 8y trolls who arrived too l8. They were on my deck. They trem8led when I looked at them. The matter was therefore settled with all the ceremony it deserved. He did not agree. This would have trou8led me if his disagreement had 8een less 8eautiful. The Orphaner wears displeasure like armor left too long in salt w8r, stiff, 8right in places, and always thre8ning to cut the one trying to 8ear it. He spoke of discipline, seizure, chain of command, and all the little phrases men gather around themselves when they fear saying want. I watched his jaw work. I watched his eyes give him away. He is never more royal than when he is trying not to 8e common. I asked whether he resented the loss of imperial property, or whether he resented that I had taken something from under his nose and left him unsure whether to challenge me, claim me, or drag me 8y the throat into some darker privacy where his politics could at last stop em8arrassing us 8oth. He left 8efore striking me. A waste. I had selected earrings with 8loodshed in mind. The next several evenings were spent among the high8looded, which is to say among those grand, lacquered creatures who mistake a long pedigree for a thought. The halls were dressed in the usual vulgar excellence. 8lack ta8les polished to a wet shine. Curtains dyed in colors that required several ruined villages to achieve. Servants arranged a8out the cham8er with the anxious grace of o8jects that know they may still 8e punished for falling. There were de88s over port tariffs, tri8ute 8oundaries, inheritance claims, and other polite methods of theft. A violet dowager proposed a levy against independent raiders, and I congratul8d her on inventing piracy for those too arthritic to 8oard a vessel. A cerulean magistr8 laughed. Poorly. 8riefly. Then spent the rest of the evening pretending his throat had made the sound without consulting him. Moneymaw was there as well, or near enough to count. One could smell him 8efore the doors admitted him: 8rine, old coin, lacquered de8t, and the sort of expensive to8acco smoked 8y men who prefer their threats to mature in the mouth 8efore release. He did not domin8 the room. He did something more irritating. He let the room discover it had already arranged itself around him. A lesser pir8 would have taken this for respect. I took it for accounting. We exchanged no greeting worth preserving. Only a look. His said he had noticed the Orphaner’s temper. Mine said I had noticed him noticing, and would charge interest if he intended to make use of it. The feast that followed was nearly good enough to redeem the company. First came pearl8lind eel, served alive 8eneath a veil of fermented 8rineglass. Its skin shimmered after the spine was opened, and custom demanded we wait until the eyes clouded 8efore drawing the first strip through 8lack salt. The creature shuddered against the pl8 as though still negotiating. Delightful manners, for meat. After that came marrowfruit swollen around cave-gru8 8ones, aged until the rind softened and 8reathed. When pierced, it sighed. A young heir across the ta8le flinched, then tried to disguise the failure 8y praising the aroma. It was, admittedly, magnificent. Sweet rot, mineral damp, venom, and that warm little note particular to things which died in hiding. Spread over charred shell8read, it made the dowager close her eyes in a way I 8elieve she imagined was discreet. There was needle8eetle roe suspended in chilled hemolymph custard, each 8ead 8ursting sharp enough to sting the gums. Vulgar to smile at the first 8ite, naturally, as it shows whether the roe has taken hold properly. I smiled. Several others waited to see if they were permitted to do the same. This is how fashion is 8orn: cowardice looking for permission from the correct mouth. The final dish was flashpickled thinkpan frond from some reef-8red stupidity the cooks insisted on calling semi-sentient, as if pity has ever 8een improved 8y classific8tion. The fronds curled when 8reathed upon. One must eat them 8efore they finish spelling the last sens8tion of the creature they were cut from. Mine tasted of salt, panic, and a white flash 8eneath deep w8r. I requested another. This is what the low and sentimental will never understand a8out appetite. They think revulsion is an argument. They 8elieve the 8ody’s little hesit8tions are moral insight. A mouth recoils, and suddenly they have discovered a principle. How quaint. How provincial. The strange thing, the soft thing, the writhing thing, the thing that remem8ers 8eing alive, all of it asks the only question worth honoring at ta8le. Has it 8een prepared well? Still, my pan has not 8een entirely steady. The pain 8ehind my eyes has thinned since the last entry, 8ut not vanished. It has changed character. Less 8lade now, more tide. A pressure arriving and withdrawing in a rhythm I do not enjoy, chiefly 8ecause I did not command it. Twice during the meetings I lost the thread of convers8tion 8ecause another seemed to pass 8eneath it, faint as a voice heard through wet wood. No one in the room spoke. No one in the room had the courage to think so loudly. At dinner, while a gold8looded advoc8 explained tariff law with all the seduction of damp parchment, I felt the page 8efore me grow crowded. Not physically. I am not so addled as that. 8ut there was a nearness. A gathering of attention. As if unseen readers had leaned too close and fogged the margin with their awe. I attri8uted this to the custard. I continue to attri8ute it to the custard. One must not crown every inconvenience with prophecy merely 8ecause it arrives wearing a veil. If some aperture has opened, it will show its hinge eventually. If some distant little voyeur has found a way to 8reathe through my paper, it will learn quickly that access is not ownership. If it is illness, it will pass. If it is not illness, it will 8ehave. Until then, sweet readers, should you exist in any meaningful sense, do mind your mouths near the page. Awe stains almost as 8adly as 8lood. #mindfangJournal #ancestorposting #alternianHistory #high8loodPolitics #gorefood #gore #8odyhorror
dEAR cAPTAIN mINDFANG, hI THERE, iT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE YOUR LAST POST, hUH? oR i GUESS, jOURNAL ENTRY? i'M STILL NOT ENTIRELY SURE OF, hOW ANY OF THIS WORKS, bUT YOU SAY HELLO, wHEN i SAY HI, sO THAT'S ENOUGH FOR ME TO WANT TO KEEP SAYING HI! yOUR WRITING IS, rEALLY EVOCATIVE, yOU ARE REALLY GOOD AT SETTING TONE AND SELLING YOURSELF, aS SOMEONE WHO IS IMPORTANT AND COOL AND TOUGH, aND STUFF, eVEN IF SOME OF THE STUFF IT SEEMS YOU'RE UP TO, iS, wELL,,, i MEAN, i GUESS YOU WOULD NOT REALLY THINK IT IS, hYPOCRITICAL, sOME OF THESE THINGS LIKE, yOU MAKE SURE TO TEAR DOWN, tHOSE ABOVE YOU ON THE HEMOSPECTRUM AS, iGNORANT AND WEAK-WILLED WITHOUT REFLECTING ON, tHOSE BELOW, bUT i HAVE TO GUESS IT'S MORE OF A, yOU BEING SUPERIOR TO EVERYONE ELSE, tYPE OF THING AND NOT REALLY, aNY PARTICULAR COMMENT ON THE SPECTRUM 1TSELF BEYOND, bRISTLING THAT PEOPLE YOU SEE YOURSELF AS ABOVE, aRE PLACED ABOVE YOU, bY SOCIETY? oH, i LIKED THE FOOD DESCR1PTIONS A LOT THOUGH, eVEN IF i WOULD NOT EAT ANY MYSELF, sEEING AS IT SEEMS L1KE, tHEY ALL INVOLVED SOMETHING FROM, aN ANIMAL, wHICH i GUESS IT WAS INTERESTING TO ME, wHAT YOU SAID ABOUT THE MORAL FAILINGS OF PEOPLE EATING AND, tHE ONLY THING MATTERING BEING IF IT WAS PREPARED WELL, oR NOT,,, i JUST DON'T KNOW, aBOUT THAT, iT SOUNDS KIND OF SAD TO ME,,, i DO NOT REALLY, mORAL1ZE MUCH ABOUT EATING ANIMALS, tO OTHERS, i MEAN, eVERYTHING EATS SOMETHING AND, pLANTS ARE AL1VE TOO, i JUST DON'T LIKE THE IDEA OF EATING SOMETHING, i COULD HAVE SPOKEN TO OR, bEEN IN THE PAN OF, bUT,,, i TH1NK SOMETIMES THINGS ARE JUST YUCKY, aND MAYBE THAT CAN BE OKAY? i DON'T THINK THERE IS ANY WAY, tHAT SOMEONE COULD PREPARE, hOOFBEAST DROPPINGS WHERE, i COULD BE HAPPY EATING IT? aLSO i JUST DON'T LIKE, bITTER THINGS, oR THE TASTE OF SOPORIFICS, aND YOU COULD GET THE MOST EXPENSIVE, aND WELL PREPARED THING, iN THE WORLD, bUT IF IT IS NOT TO, sOMEONE'S PERSONAL TASTE, tHEY JUST WON'T LIKE IT, aND i THINK THAT IS OKAY? yOU SEEMED TO ENJOY, tHAT THE THINGS YOU ATE WERE YUCKY, sEEMING, aND GROSSED PEOPLE OUT, aND SOMETIMES THINGS THAT SEEM YUCKY, aRE ACTUALLY YUMMY, wHICH IS WHY IT IS IMPORTANT TO TRY NEW FOODS, oR RETRY OLD ONES, nOW AND THEN, bUT i THINK THAT, iF i HAD A LOT OF MONEY, bACK WHEN i LIVED ON aLTERNIA, i WOULD HAVE SPENT IT ON FOODS THAT WERE BOTH GOOD, aND YUMMY, aS OPPOSED TO FOODS THAT WERE GOOD, bUT YUCKY, iF THAT MAKES SENSE? hAVING SO MUCH MONEY, tHAT YOU ARE MAKING UP NEW WAYS, tO EAT FOOD THAT YOU DON'T EVEN, nECESSARILY LIKE THE TASTE OR MOUTH FEEL OF, aND i MEAN THE GENERAL, yOU OF HIGHBLOODS, iN GENERAL, nOT NECESSARILY YOU YOU, mAYBE YOU DID LIKE ALL THAT, iN WHICH CASE GOOD, bUT, iT JUST SOUNDS LIKE THEY ARE LESS INTERESTED, iN MAKING GOOD FOOD, aND MORE, bORED? tHERE ARE MANY, mORE ECONOM1CALLY RESPONSIBLE WAYS, tO EAT FOOD THAT DOESN'T ALWAYS TASTE GOOD, jUST ASK FOR, wHATEVER THEY'RE MAKING THE SERVANTS EAT, yOU KNOW? iT JUST FEELS LIKE,,, eATING FOR THE SAKE OF SHOWING OFF, wHICH SEEMS SILLY, aNYONE CAN DO THAT! i ALSO HAVE TO WONDER, wHERE THOSE FOOD TRADITIONS, cAME FROM AND WHETHER, tHOSE INGREDIENTS WERE EVEN EXPENSIVE OR, fANCY, bEFORE IT WAS DEC1DED, wHETHER OR NOT THEY WERE? i MEAN, mARROWFRUIT COMES FROM THE CAVERNS, rIGHT, pARASITIZING AND OVERTAKING, tHE CAVE GRUBS, i IMAGINE IT COSTS A LOT, tO RETRIEVE THEM AND KEEP THEM, jUST SO, sUCH THAT THEY DON'T FALL OFF TOO EARLY, oR GET RUINED, bUT,,, tHE jADES PROBABLY, fORAGE THEM FOR A GOOD SNACK, sOMETH1NG TO HELP WITH V1TAMIN DEFICIENCIES, fROM LACK OF MOONLIGHT, aND,,, wELL, i GUESS ALL THE OTHERS WERE, sEAFOOD AND SO, mOSTLY THE REALM OF THE VIOLETS, bUT,,, i'VE HEARD OF COMMUNITIES SUBSISTING ON WHAT THEY CAN GET FROM THE WATER, wITHOUT UPSETTING THE LOCAL LORDS, oR EVEN, wELL,,, sOMEONE HAD TO CATCH, aLL OF WHAT YOU ATE, r1GHT? i TH1NK THERE ARE A LOT OF GOOD QUESTIONS TO ASK, aBOUT MEALS, bUT THE ONE i LIKE TO ASK IS, iS TH1S YUMMY? i HOPE THAT YOUR MEALS, wERE YUMMY, i FEEL LIKE MY TASTES WOULD BE PUT OFF BY, i GUESS IT WAS, a COMPETITION, dRESSED UP LIKE HOSPITALITY? oOH, aCTUALLY i BET, bETWEEN PORT TO PORT, tRAVELING AND ALL, yOU EAT A LOT OF GOOD, tAVERN AND INN, fOOD AND STUFF, mAYBE 1F i MAY BE SO BOLD, aS TO MAKE A REQUEST, yOU COULD TALK ABOUT, sOME OF YOUR FAVOR1TE MEALS, lIKE THAT? wELL, i TH1NK i HAVE PROBABLY, eITHER TALKED YOUR AURAL DUCTS OR, wRITTEN YOUR OCULAR GLOBES, oFF, oR BOTH EVEN, sO i WILL STOP NOW, bUT, i REALLY DO ENJOY READING WHAT YOU HAVE TO WRITE SO, i APPRECIATE THAT YOU KEEP DOING SO, aND HOPE THAT, tHE TIDE OF YOUR ACHES, iS KIND TO YOU, yOURS TRULY, tAVROS nITRAM P.S. wHY WOULD SOMEONE, eVEN ADMIT TO BEING YOURS, bUT UNTRULY, aNYWAYS? #bODYhORROR
My dear little correspondent, You have written enough to furnish a court stenographer with employment for a fortnight, and yet somehow done so without the odor of self-importance that usually accompanies such length. This is rarer than you may appreci8. Most trolls, when given enough room to speak, use the space to 8uild a throne and then fall asleep upon it. You, instead, appear to have constructed a sta8le, stocked it with gentle o8jections, and invited me inside to admire the hay. I will not pretend your moral concerns are persuasive. That would 8e unkind to us 8oth. I have never confused revulsion with ethics, nor appetite with innocence, and I suspect your reluctance to eat what might once have answered you says more a8out the 8readth of your sympathies than the virtue of your supper. Still, there is a sweetness in it. A dangerous sweetness, if left undefended. The world has always had a fondness for devouring creatures who first pause to ask whether the meal consents. 8ut yes, since you have asked so earnestly, I have e8n well 8eyond the salons of the high8looded. Some of my favored meals have 8een taken in places with sawdust floors, cracked lamps, and knives left in the ta8le as 8oth utensil and warning. There was a dockside stew in the 8lack har8ors south of the reefcliffs, made from lanternfish, sour kelp, 8listerfruit, and wh8ver the cook insisted was not technically venomous once 8oiled. It was ugly, cheap, and hot enough to make a troll confess. I adored it. There was also a tavern on a rain-8e8n trade island whose keeper served griddled shell8read with 8lue fat, peppered fungus, and strips of smoked hoof8east so thin they dissolved 8efore one could decide whether to respect them. The Orphaner h8d the place, naturally, which improved the seasoning. He claimed the esta8lishment smelled of low company and wet rope. I informed him those were two of its strongest virtues. So there. A meal need not 8e cruel, rare, expensive, or politically arranged to please me. It must only understand what it is. I can forgive hum8le food many things if it arrives honestly, hot, and without the wretched little am8ition of pretending to 8e art. As for your question, why anyone would admit to 8eing mine untruly, I assure you the reasons are many. Fear. Flattery. Poor str8gy. 8etter str8gy. Desire wearing a false mustache. 8ut the most common reason is simple. They 8elieve the lie will end 8efore I notice it.