give me your daniel

At first, it was a brightly colored pair of pants. Kasumi continued along the trail, picking up each fabric, throwing it over her arm. She was weighed down by the time she got to the bones. There were at least ten different articles of clothing, all from brands that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to pronounce. 

(What the hell was a Prada or a Gucci, anyway?) 

And there were at least triple the amount of bones. She stood on the outskirts of them, observing the way they surrounded the mass of tents. From where Kasumi stood, she could see pairs of shoes in one, and what looked like warm, fur coats in another. Surely, the clothes she had thrown over her arm belonged to one of the tents, but even as she looked around, the tent that they might have gone into was missing. 

There was, however, a sleeping woman in one of the tents. Kasumi could see a head of hair, and the way an arm was thrown over her face. She looked… comfortable, to say the least. Though, she couldn’t see too well through the mesh screens. 

“Hello!” She called out, “I have your Pra-yda and your Gucki,” She looked at the tags on the topmost items, and noticed a third, “as well as your Canada Goose!” (What the hell a goose was doing inside of a coat, she didn’t know) 

Kasumi stood on her tippy toes, trying to see if she had gained any kind of acknowledgement from inside of the tent. 

— 

Gaunt, lifeless bodies were knotted together in mountains of sinew and bone. A river of gore flowed underfoot, and Siobhan watched all of it atop her skull throne. She sipped from her goblet, which had wine in it last she remembered, though it had no taste. A vulture swooped down and pecked at one of the men she had hanging by his wrists—he had been strung up behind her, but now he was somehow in front of her. Which was no bother, of course, because she could see the vulture pierce his abdomen better this way. 

“Lady Siobhan,” her one-eyed, hobbling servant said. “I have your Gucki.” 

Siobhan blinked. “My what? What is—”

“—ell as your Canada Goose!”

Siobhan's arm fell away from her eyes and she stared at the blue domed roof of her plastic tent. There were no rivers of blood, no men screaming in agony and no cushioned bone throne. Her back ached and her skin prickled with the telltale sign of another fae nearby. Pixies again; the thought made her sigh. She grabbed her pixie stick (a stick for beating pixies back, not to be mistaken for the candy, a mistake which often excited the pixies until it hit them on the head). Turning, she crawled out of her tent—hair stuck up in several directions—and sleepily waved her stick. “For the last time, you cannot have a knife, or an axe—you cannot even carry an axe, let alone find a use for it in your grain-sized brains.” 

Siobhan froze mid-swing. That was not a pixie: the obvious part was her size, far too tall for a pixie, but in addition, she was carrying things. Siobhan’s things. Pixies never returned anything to her, unless they broke it and wanted her to fix it so they could play with it again. “What do you want?” she called. “Put those things down! They don’t belong to you! What manner of fae are you? These parts are watched by a daughter of Death!” She held her stick out, keeping the woman at a distance; her mind was still catching up to the world of the waking. 

—

There was movement from inside of the tent, and Kasumi felt a swell of relief. The buzzing that she felt since entering the premises had gone without notice, only because it was a feeling she was used to. It was the absence that felt nuclear. 

The woman was speaking to somebody else, she figured. For Kasumi hadn’t requested any type of weaponry. Had she been expecting somebody else to return her things? The nix watched as confusion flit across the woman’s features as she took in the scene. 

“There were clothes, and they all led to here!” She looked over her shoulder, then back towards the woman and the numerous tents. It was both impressive and an eyesore. Kasumi wrinkled her nose, dropping the clothes. They fell to the ground in a giant lump, colors cascading over each other, clearly not meant for the forest floor. “They’re going to get dirty,” the nix mumbled, taking a step from the heap. 

She’d been so focused on the clothes that she nearly missed the woman’s question. “Daughter of Death…?” She didn’t know all too much about banshees; just the stories that her mother had told her, back when she still told stories. Kasumi was far more acquainted with nix and nymphs alike, but did that matter? Her grandmother would be impressed, but it wasn’t like Ayame had asked her to come and find banshees, had she? “Oh, I’m a nix! It’s nice to meet you.” She was excited about running into another fae, to say the least, especially a kind she’d never met before. 

— 

Siobhan shifted her stance, sneering as she gazed down at the… nix, was it? “They’d get dirtier in your filthy fish hands,” she said. Siobhan stepped closer, her stick still thrust between them. She took one step, and then another, side-stepping like a trepidacious crab. Approaching the pile of her clothes, and the nix, Siobhan put her stick down. She knelt and ran her fingers over the silk hem of one of her shirts. “Undamaged,” she said slowly. Her clothes being unmarred was rare when they left the relative safety of the tents (the tents were awfully exposed to many fashion threats, such as that one bear that seemed very invested in her Louis Vuitton, but at least it was better than everything out there). 

She lifted her stick and poked the other woman. “Yes, it is nice to meet me. I cannot say the same for you.” Siobhan scowled. “What is your name?” She poked her again. “What plans did you have with these clothes?” And again. “What evil designs did you wish upon these unsuspecting garments?” And once more, a little harder. “I do not enjoy your chipper attitude; quell yourself.”

—

Kasumi stood, waiting patiently for the other fae’s next move. She wasn’t entirely sure what was expected of her now, especially considering she didn’t seem all that excited for Kasumi to have found her in the first place. “I keep my hands clean.” Unlike some of the other members of her aos si, she didn’t smell like fish in the way they did. Instead, she just smelled like… well, herself. She’d been lucky, apparently, because a few of the nix who’d moved into their aos si from the outside had said they needed to spray copious amounts of perfume onto themselves in order to not be made fun of. She had thought it rude at the time, but now that she understood the human world a little better, Kasumi could see how it’d be offputting. Humans weren’t used to a lot of things that a nix, or even fae might be used to. 

It was odd, Kasumi thought, how a fae could be so obsessed with human materials. But she’d seen it before, hadn’t she? 

“Oh. Well, that’s fine!” She looked from the clothes and to the woman, curious as to why she was stroking them. She’d ask, but the stick might hit her in the face. “My name is Kasumi.” She paused. “What’s you–” Her eyes grew big and she shook her head. “Nothing! I was just returning them to you! They were everywhere. I followed them all the way here, and I wanted to give you the rest of them.” Her comment reminded her of her grandmother, which made Kasumi’s skin prickle, but she pushed the feeling away immediately. “I will stay chipper.” It sounded a little forceful, like she didn’t quite believe in herself. 

—

Like most other fae, this one was annoying. As these things went, everyone except herself was intolerable, and everyone—except herself—was an imbecile. Siobhan stabbed her stick into the ground, leaning on it. She supposed that some gratitude was in order… from the nix, of course. A “thank you” for not being stabbed on the spot or an “ever so grateful” for being allowed to touch Siobhan’s clothing in the first place. When it didn’t come, she scoffed; children these days had no manners. Barging into a poor woman’s temporary tent region, giving her back her clothes, and not even thanking her for the whole thing. Really, she should just stab the girl. 

“Kasumi,” Siobhan repeated. “Siobhan,” she said. “My name, that is. Siobhan. It means… Well, never you mind what it means.” She didn’t know. She’d like to think it meant something that evoked both her beauty and her capacity (and willingness) for violence but she knew her mother wasn’t known for creativity, or for loving her daughter. She’d picked a common name, perhaps not at the time to describe any commonness in her daughter (she might change her mind about it now) but for the utilitarian concept of blending in with human society. The Dolans didn’t believe in earthly delights—they wore gray, unshapely dresses and enjoyed neutrally their unseasoned bone gruel. Siobhan’s insistence on delighting whilst on earth was a delayed rebellion; one that her mother could not see, and likely didn’t care for. The Dolans were the most humble snobs anyone could meet, Siobhan always thought. 

“A fae? Acting with no self-interest? I might sooner believe that a squonk can fly and a horse can become a banker—of course, there is that one teller…” Siobhan sighed. “Stay chipper then. See if it makes you any allies; your manner is grating.” She cleared her throat. “Now, out with it.” She held out her palm, curling her fingers inward to signal that Kasumi should just give It to her now—the It being the thing she wanted. The reward. The prize. “Go on then. Name your price.”

—

Kasumi was capable of seeing herself in most people she met. It was one of the very reasons she didn’t fall prey to the ill will of those who desperately pushed it upon her. She refused to allow their habits to interfere with her determination to stay… Well, she wasn’t sure what she was, but it was close enough to happy; close enough to seeing the grass and sky for what it was instead of complaining about whether or not the sun was too hot, or the grass was not green enough. This woman seemed like she’d complain about both, but Kasumi wasn’t about to pester her about it. 

“Siobhan.” She echoed the name back with a nod, smile attached. “That’s a wonderful name!” She wasn’t sure whether the compliment was necessary or not, especially given that Siobhan seemed like the kind of woman who would respond with I know instead of anything else. Kasumi felt the need, though– to keep an airy atmosphere, to appease the angry fae ahead of her. 

“Self-interest doesn’t… interest me.” Kasumi looked down to the pile of clothes, then back up to Siobhan. She forced her gaze ahead, not wanting to invade her privacy more than she already had. “A bank teller squonk?” She nodded, as if in knowing. “That makes sense. They are very smart, actually. Everyone thinks that–” She cut herself off, deciding that Siobhan probably didn’t care to hear her spiel. It wasn’t uncommon for Kasumi to be called grating, insufferable, annoying– She’d heard it all. If not from her own grandmother, then the other fae in the aos si. She let the comment roll off her back, as if caught in the wind. “My price?” She shook her head. “No. I think you misunderstand my intentions! I didn’t bring them back to get payment. I just wanted to bring them back to you.” She gestured towards the other tents. “Do you lose things a lot?” 

— 

“I know,” Siobhan said. “Yes, yes. It’s a wonderful name. I know.” Siobhan waved her hand in the air. “And whatever is the problem with the sun today? It’s so hot. Ugh, and this grass…” She kicked at it. “So brown.” Her temporary tent area had seen better days; when she’d first arrived with that pair of humans she’s bound into setting up her tents for her, was it not a beautiful, green oasis? Her memory on the matter was fuzzy. What she remembered was sitting in her lawn chair, fan pointed at her face, sipping cold wine as one of the men suffered heatstroke and died very painfully—he was going to die of a vampire attack anyway, so at least his final moments were useful to someone. Surely the day had been very good if she got to watch a man die a nice, slow death; and surely she wouldn’t pick an ugly spot for her temporary abode. 

Everyone thinks that squonks are smart? Siobhan raised a brow. It was likely not what the other fae meant, but Kasumi decided against finishing the sentence and Siobhan wasn’t going to chase it down. Did she appear to be a woman who cared? If one dropped their sentences, it was on them to pick it back up—information was not to be begged for like a dog. At any rate, Siobhan found herself uninterested in Kasumi: happy people were boring. Unless one explored dismantling that happiness. Hm. Siobhan was interested in Kasumi again. 

“Voice down, Kasumi,” Siobhan said. “It is dangerous to compliment squonks in this region. You’re liable to summon one.” Thing had to be waddling around somewhere, and he had an unnatural attachment to even the thinnest of kindnesses. As Kasumi went on, Siobhan squinted at her. She looked around at her tents as Kasumi gestures. “Yes,” she said slowly. “Yes. I do.” She blinked. What a useless question to be asked. Did Kasumi truly care about the state of Siobhan’s belongings? No. Who would? “Well, darling, if you don’t want payment what is it you desire? What motivates you? Goodness? Are you some manner of fairytale princess? Will I follow you home to find your kind heart has not been stifled by your evil stepmother? Or will you just admit to me now that you are plagued as all souls are: with wanting.” Siobahn waved her hand again, her annoyance flaring by degrees. She could do without Kasumi’s acting—and it had to be acting, no one was this annoyingly selfless; she wanted to cut down into the meat of it. “Out with it. I’d rather not stand around all day chatting aimlessly only for you to turn around at the end and ask me for a favour.” 

—

“Well, I am very glad that you know!” Siobhan’s comment lingered, and Kasumi found herself looking around the small spot that had been to be made inhabitable. The grass had died, probably due to the tents sitting on it for far too long. The cold probably had a hand in it, too. “It will grow back. With the right amount of time.” Once the seasons changed and the tents were moved, it would grow back, wouldn’t it? Not all hope was lost. “You just need to give it time.” She didn’t know this woman, but she was used to walking on eggshells, always at the risk of saying the wrong thing. “Winter’s over, so surely…” She trailed off, looking around the space again. It wasn’t that small, actually. It stretched on and on, tents covering a solid amount of grass. It would be awhile before the grass would be the same, wouldn’t it? 

“I see.” She didn’t remember how it worked, but could it be? Could the pull of the single word– their name, until they were actually given one, entrance a squonk to seek out the one who had said it originally? Kasumi looked around, suddenly worried that she’d make this place a haven for them. Her gaze swept past the clothes again as she listened to Siobhan speak. None of the clothes that she’d found were really her style, and Siobhan seemed too tall for anything to even fit her to begin with. So really, she wasn’t entirely sure what the woman was getting at. 

A nix’s life was far more simple than that of fae who threw themselves into human societies, wasn’t it? There were relationships within the aos si, but typically they all came down to one thing; nature. Out in the open, where humans were a part of the day-to-day, things seemed far more stringent. Kasumi shook her head. “Well, I have read a few books, and I’ve seen a couple of the movies so far, and I do think of myself as a Rapunzel, if anything.” She paused. That wasn’t the question Siobhan had asked. “But no, I don’t… expect anything by returning these to you. I don’t want anything. I wanted to get them to their rightful owner.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Why would I ask you for a favor? That seems pointless. I don’t need anything from you.” She hardly needed anything from anyone, but she needed a lot– it was just that favors typically got messy, and that wasn’t what she needed when she was trying to seek out the meaning of humans and their short-lived lives. “Do people usually always want something from you? That doesn’t seem very fair to you.” She frowned. 

—- 

Siobhan sighed. “Your optimism is noted, crumpled, and tossed in the trash,” she said. She wasn’t going to stay here; she didn’t care how it would look in a month or six. Any time now, she would… Siobhan glanced down at her pile of lumpy designer clothes. She could imagine the wrinkles and sleeves as herself; her head popping out between the Gucci and Prada, and her legs that would grow under the Louis Vuitton and this lump of discarded, pretty fabrics would walk off. She surveyed the tents; dozens of multi-colored polyester pyramids like a city. Her kingdom was pathetic and what was a queen of an ugly patch of forest worth? She wanted people to look at her and know her status, her grandeur, before she ever had to open her mouth to prove it. 

Kasumi was seeing her as she was, which was to say at a wee low-point. Yes, of course, she’d had lower-lows, but even those forty years chasing home had luxury apartments and mansions. Siobhan shifted her weight. “Your hair isn’t long enough for that, darling. You’re far more The Little Mermaid, aren’t you?” 

Kasumi’s words sawed to the bone and she stiffened. She should want something from her, because Siobhan had so much to offer: she was useful, effective, useful…synonym for useful. She was talented in murder and screaming. Her personality was charming (to herself). Who wouldn’t want something from her? People were begging to have things from her—look, there, the long line of worms trying to break into her knife tent. See? Siobhan waved her hand in the air. “Yes, of course, everyone wants something from me.” No one had, in many, many years. And when they had wanted something, it was her own humiliation. Fate called her, on occasion, but Fate rarely needed her help. No one had wanted Siobhan for decades. Here she was, a powerful banshee sequestered in a withering kingdom, and she was as useful as a sparkly label on an overpriced garment. Even Kasumi, who by all accounts needed a tremendous amount of help, didn’t need anything from her. “Well, I suppose you should be off, Kasumi; I’ve a busy day of fielding requests from others. Humouring the peasants, as it were. If you have nothing to ask of me, then I have no use for your conversation either.” 

Not very fair. No, what wasn’t fair was that her talents were being squandered. Why didn’t anyone need her? Siobhan turned around a shooed Kasumi. 

—

She didn’t bother vocalizing it, but knew that whatever had been ‘thrown into the trash,’ would be picked up by her, and her alone. Siobhan did not seem the type to care about whether or not Kasumi would defy her, and largely seemed like the kind of person to abhor it. There were a few things about the woman in front of her that reminded her of her grandmother. Except, the fondness for human extravagance; that much had been left behind by her grandmother, much to Kasumi’s own dismay. She had hoped they were getting somewhere when she’d seen Ayame flipping through a magazine, only to realize it’d been pulled from one of the many hiding spots Kasumi had left it in, and it was being used as a tool to reprimand, rather than to embrace the limits of their world. 

“I have been growing it out, but you’re right. I do not think it will ever get to that length.” It had been down her back as a child, and her mother had cut it one night in a stupor– eager to keep it out of her eyes. It was the last time Izumi had done something like that for her. How many more memories would Siobhan bring up, only by using her words? Or was it Kasumi’s fault, for falling into them? “The Little Mermaid would work, if I could go into–” But if Siobhan already knew the comparison, then there was no real use in explaining the logistics of being a nix. She shrugged. “I am The Little Mermaid.” She did not like mermaid as a term– thought it outdated (especially when actual mermaids did exist.) Maybe there was a bit of fae superiority in her after all. 

Kasumi looked from her fellow fae to the mound of fabric on the ground, then to the tents that stretched further past where she could see. The blots of brightly colored fabric were hidden by a mess of trees and what would be full shrubbery. “You seem like you have a lot. I think I understand.” She was being waved away, and all Kasumi could do was oblige. She was not going to impose her company on the other fae any longer, especially not if it was not wanted. “If you do need anything, I live in Deersprings. I am seen usually from windows. You can find me!” 

—- 

“Yes, The Little Mermaid. Little in… brain,” Siobhan said. “Hm. Not my finest work.” When Siobhan turned, she waited for Kasumi to call her back with the confession that she did need something. Siobhan stood in the same spot, making tiny steps towards nothing, waiting. Kasumi’s voice travelled over her, shrinking, shrinking… Siobhan turned and watched the woman walk away. 

She grabbed the pixie stick and stood beside the pile of clothes. One minute, and then two; a bird fluttered from a tree, the worms attacking her knife tent gave up, Kasumi didn’t return. Her kingdom of plastic was empty. “I don’t need anything,” she said, though she knew that Kasumi was long since out of earshot. “Deersprings?” she repeated. Siobhan turned the name over in her mind. “Deersprings?” Something inside her stomach burned. “Deersprings?” She felt a thousand flies crawl over her skin; heard them buzzing in her ears. “Regan…” she grumbled.

She squeezed the stick. Maybe there was something she could get Kasumi to do for her. How did the little mermaid feel about murder? Hm, probably not positively. Perhaps Kasumi might have better feelings towards arson?