[Erasmus]

Erasmus looked up at the statue of Xanth, hands in his pockets as he stood there, transfixed on her carved features. Erasmus took one of his hands out of his pockets to tug at one of the loose threads on his Navy blue turtleneck jumper, this being one of Erasmus’ favourite items of clothing purely for the leather patches on its elbows (If Erasmus got an eye patch and a sea captain hat he’d really be in business).

But now was no time for the revelry of dressing as a comedy mariner, for Erasmus had been thinking, something he didn’t often stop to do; the implications of vampirism in full had just been sinking in, and Erasmus knew that one of them was Immortality.

Immortality. To live forever.

Most people toiled away their whole lives to make their short time on Elysia as comfortable as possible, desperate to achieve something before they shuffled off the mortal coil. What, then, did Erasmus have to live for? He would outlive all the mortals he knew, and the company of vampires was something that did not appeal to him at all. Eternity as a parasite... it was a thought bad enough to drive a man to suicide, although Erasmus had no plans to take his own life or allow someone else to take it, for he was a survivor, it was a part of him that would simply not leave no matter how hard he tried and as a result he was left on Elysia, facing eternity as a ship without a rudder, doomed to drift endlessly without a destination to call his own. How could he do it? He could not comprehend infinity or eternity, he could not conceive of what either would hold for him, let alone how he should react. What would Erasmus fight for? Money? Money would come easily enough in the centuries to come if Erasmus persisted. A vassal or a lord? They would be dust within a matter of years. A cause? All causes lose their way or fizzle and die.

A Goddess?

Erasmus furrowed his brow as he put his hand back into his pocket, keeping his gaze fixed on the statue. Did she even exist? If so, would it even make any difference? A deity outside of Erasmus’ subjectivity would not make any difference whether she existed or not, Erasmus would simply carry on, unable to even come close to the Goddess that was portrayed in front of him, the Divine presented through the mundane. What was it he was even looking at any? A lump of stone, nothing more. Looking away, Erasmus turned to leave the sad statue dedicated to the unknown on its pedestal, doomed to share the same fate as he; an eternity of allowing the world to pass around it.

[Xanth]

"A lump of stone, am I?"

Xanth's voice, harder than usual, erupted from the statue's lips suddenly, but the marble did not move. At the shoulder, barely ten inches tall, stood a pixie version of herself with her wings in full view and her purple eyes glowing faintly. She was wearing a gown for a change, layers of lilac gossamer run through with sparkling silver threads that glowed just as faintly. Even her tattoos, intricate white Tanakheimein symbols covering every inch of her flesh, glowed white and her hair, dark purple with streaks of lilac, floated about her head as if she were under water.

Everything about her screamed goddess!, a deliberate choice she had made to silence the boy's whining. She had done so much for these people, taken such care with them, and was so tired of her very existence being questioned. And oh! the whining. I'm lonely; I don't want to live forever. Well, try living for twelve millennia - and still considered a child by her own people - watching their friends and loved ones die over and over, and see how lonely and disliking of their longevity they were then!

The pixie Xanth fluttered away from her perch on the statue's shoulder, rapidly growing as she came to stand in the grass between her stone avatar and the despairing Vampire-Anyeli. The glow of her eyes and tattoos and gown faded, but the form remained the same (albeit five feet taller), small purple sparks like fireflies drifting across the grass. "All Men are parasites," she informed him darkly. "It is the way of things to survive by feeding on others. Do the insects not feed on detritus? Are they not themselves then eaten by spiders and such, who are in turn eaten by their own predators?" She scoffed. "The world cannot live without its parasites. And I am not," she added, her voice filling briefly with power, "a lump of stone."

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[Erasmus]

When confronted with the surprising and the unknown, there is a myriad of responses people may reply with. Erasmus watched as the pixie changed into a woman, in his face as she responded to something that Erasmus did not at any point express publicly, and all Erasmus could do was look down at her and say one thing; "“Huh.”"

Was this really Xanth herself that had come to their plane to teach him a lesson? To scold him like a naughty child and expect him to feel sorry for himself? Erasmus raised an eyebrow after his muted response and continued with his appearance of modest bravado, even in the face of the divine. "“You think I’m an Insect? Maybe I am, in the grand scheme of things...”" replied Erasmus, examining the avatar closely before continuing "“Well I’m doing something that no insect could ever hope to do, I’m refusing my place in the world. Why should I care for something as big or as complex as this? What difference can a man like me really make? I refuse to simply accept this, “Do what I can” and “make do.” None of that matters to me anymore, and how can it if all I’m able to do is linger on constantly?”"

[Xanth]

Xanth rolled her eyes at his pedantry. He was being deliberately obtuse, twisting her words as if she could not insult him well enough by herself.

Curling her bare toes in the grass, a connection that helped her find patience rather than simply wave him into non-existence as he seemed to be hoping, she stepped away and turned her back on the depressing Vampire to trail a hand across the smooth marble of her statue. He continued with his boring complaints, his voice - or, rather, the subject of his depression - grating on her nerves until her hand squeezed into a fist against the cold purple plinth.

His was not the first such wail-song she had been forced to hear, of course. Normally, she tried to be much more understanding, sympathetic and patient. Unlike her, immortality was not a natural state for these people, but they expected her to sit and listen to every little thing that was bothering them instead of seeking a friend. She was not a therapist, yet was treated as such and then blamed for either ignoring them or if the outcome of her advice was not what they had expected.

Not today! She lacked the patience for this today, and his deliberately misinterpreting her words had driven out any desire she had to help him.

"Perhaps you are an insect," she snapped, her voice layered with power as she whipped around, the diaphanous fabrics of her gown swishing about her legs and her hair echoing the movement. Her eyes, no longer glowing but still seething with power, sparked with irritation. "Do you feed on detritus, then?" She waved a hand dismissively to indicate this was a rhetorical question, wishing she could wave off the rest as well. Still, regardless of her mood and her weariness, he had come to her for help. He had not expected her to respond, of course, and she may well not have done so had he not annoyed her so, but he would receive her help whether he wanted it or not.

If only to shut him up.

"Erasmus Diestekles, son of the House of Diestekles, cease your whining." Xanth forced her fist to relax, stepping gracefully away from the statue and moving at right-angles to it and her visitor. Tilting her head to look at him over her shoulder as she picked her way through the grass where bright blue mushrooms sprouted, she smiled faintly, not quite as irritated as she had been. "I want you to consider something for me, dear boy. I was already twelve hundred years old when I arrived on Earth those many years ago, and I am but young yet." She rarely spoke about such things; she had found that maintaining an air of mystery about herself, and encouraging the belief that she was a goddess, was better for the general population. Those who had discovered her true heritage were usually so terrified by the prospect of her father's armies reigning hellfire and brimstone down upon them, of being wiped out in the blink of an eye, she was forced to erase such knowledge from their memory just so to keep their sanity intact.

She justified the perpetuation of the lie on the reasoning that a being as powerful as she, one who could create and destroy on a whim and a wish, was by very definition a god anyway. Safer to keep information such as that to herself, however, and rarely did she speak of her arrival for fear of the questions it might raise. Yet, Erasmus was so concerned with his longevity that she felt personal experience might aid him; she also felt he deserved a little jolt to remind him he was not the only one dealing with such concerns and that - how would they say? - he should get his head out of his backside.

His concerns were not unwarranted, actually, a fact she was forced to acknowledge with regret. Vampires were such a young species, barely fifteen hundred years old, and to her knowledge none of Isolde's immediate 'children' had survived. They thus had no idea even if they were immortal, though it had been assumed so simply on the fact that their bodies regenerated and did not age. Mayhap they, and he, would be as long-lived as her own people - assuming, of course, that he did not annoy another who was eager to end things for him.

Nevertheless, feeling sorry for himself would only make those long years interminable and worthless. "The differences you make are entirely your choice, just as if you had never been turned. It is up to you and no one else how this change affects you. Do you understand me, Erasmus Diestekles, or shall you continue to feel sorry for yourself?"

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[Erasmus]

Erasmus furrowed his brow his brow as he looked at Xanth, considering her words a moment. She knew his name, it seemed, which suggested she knew a lot more about him, and probably what was running through his mind at that very moment. Like a car suddenly slamming on its brakes, Erasmus took a moment to survey his situation and possibly reactions:

He was talking with a deity.

She was talking back, something that did not happen all that often.

She was annoyed with him, taking the same tone Erasmus’ mother always did during his sensitive teenage years.

Erasmus had answered back, officially converting their “talk” into an argument.

Erasmus found himself in an illogical situation, one that was unusual and completely unexpected. Such a situation called for an equally odd response. Breaking into a smile, Erasmus chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he put his hands on his hips.

"“So that’s it? I just carry on and do what I think is right? I’ve gotta admit, it’s a good course of action, one I’ve been following all my life now... But let’s kick it up a notch, eh? With your blessing of course.”" Said Erasmus, smiling as he ran his tongue across his fangs, something he resolved quickly never to do again. "“I’m going to do what I want...”"

And so what was the first order of business for Erasmus’ invigorated journey of defiance against the universe itself? The sheer refusal to make do? "So, tell me about yourself."

[Xanth]

Xanth blinked sharply, pausing with her back to the boy. Few bothered to ask how she was doing, so concerned with their own lives, and fewer still thought to voice their curiosity about her. But then, Erasmus Diestekles did not seem to have the sense he was born with, talking back and poking his nose where it did not belong.

Still, she did soften towards him at his question, and she turned her head to look at him over the curve of her shoulder, her hair sweeping out of the way all by itself. There did not seem to be any ulterior motive behind the asking, only curiosity. Drawing in a breath to answer him, she instead changed the topic back, disliking the intimation he had made by snapping his fangs.

"Do not think to joke about such things, young man." As she spoke, she turned to face him fully, wandering slowly back towards him. "Your new queen does not look kindly on those who would encourage the less desirable rumours about her people." She did not so much as whisper the name Shadow Warrior; there was some question among Vampires as to whether they actually existed or were a myth made to frighten them from the more dangerous path they might take. Still, Erasmus had probably heard those rumours himself, and perhaps mind the hint.

More than that: Xanth knew full well how he currently felt regarding the drinking of blood. "I am not easily fooled and you, my dear boy, are not nearly ready for such a course." A mere few feet away, she snapped her own teeth to mimic his earlier action, emphasising her point. Pausing on the edge of his personal space, Xanth frowned. "Why are you really here?"

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[Erasmus]

Erasmus smiled, shaking his head slowly. "Who said I have a queen? I take orders from one person, me. Anything else I reserve the right to refuse." Said Erasmus, tugging at his sleeves as he glanced up at the statue again. He did mean it, didn’t he? A Queen was just another woman after all, but what if the woman in front of him asked him or even ordered him to do something? Was she any different? Obviously she was, but should Erasmus make an exception?

" I am not easily fooled and you, my dear boy, are not nearly ready for such a course." said the Goddess, snapping her teeth shortly after and causing Erasmus to raise an eyebrow as he leaned back. What was this all about?

" Why are you really here?" she asked him, something that made Erasmus offer an apologetic smile. "Sorry? I thought you knew. I came here to figure things out." Replied Erasmusas he ran the question through his mind; why was he here? Things had changed since the woman had appeared and understandably there was little little doubt in Erasmus’ mind that he was face to face with a powerful being, or at least an exceptionally impressive one!

"I’ve come here to learn." Added Erasmus, straightening up as his smile faded. "And right now I’d like to learn about you... there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?"

[Xanth]

Xanth almost snorted, halting the unladylike sound before it could make its apeparance as her eyebrow lifted and her lips twisted as if to say "Oh really?". Anyeli were raised to be good little soldiers, following orders on and off the battlefield from those who outranked them. Even during times of peace, they kept to their hierarchy as strictly as possible out of fear that peace would not last (and, sadly, they were usually correct on that score). Disobedience often came at a hefty price, and some ranking officers did not take kindly to having their orders questioned.

Having said that, she suspected he had always been a little free-spirited, something that had likely caused trouble for him in the past, and finding himself inexorably changed had apparently sent him reeling even farther down that path.

He was lucky, in that sense. The Vampires, more than any other race, had always had comparable freedom. They had lacked a government or leadership for a long time (power-hungry warmongers aside), being too chaotic by nature for their birthing years to come together as a people. Each one out for themselves, the law be damned. In the last century or two, they had developed an official government, one sanctioned by the majority rule of the vampires and by the other political leaders (not to mention Xanth herself). They also had a police force that was a law unto itself and charged solely with managing members of their own species. Still, Erasmus would be left to his own devices for the most part - as long as he did not cross the line drawn in the sand by Bailey Adams' predecessors.

"Sorry? I thought you knew."

Xanth sniffed delicately, the only reaction she would grant him for questioning her powers. There was far more to his summons than even he knew, but she was not in the habit of making things easy. His irreverence was grating on her nerves, as was his odd fascination with her statue. It had been designed to draw the eye, naturally, but most people had the sense and good grace to look at her when they were speaking to her, especially if they had summoned her, not at a "lump of rock". It brought out a most childish desire to stamp her feet and demand his attention, a desire she immediately and cruelly squashed.

Even if he were not annoying her, he had done nothing to deserve her favour and, by this meeting alone, had squandered what good will she had toward a complete stranger. If he wanted something of or from her, he was going about this in entirely the wrong fashion.

"Wrong?" Her brow furrowed contemplatively. No, there was nothing inherently wrong with wanting to know more about anything, but they had invented that charming little phrase, "curiosity killed the cat", for a reason. He was not ready to learn the answers to the questions skulking about in the shadows of his mind, and Xanth was certainly not ready to provide those answers. "That all," she murmured, taking a single step towards him that put her in his personal space, "depends very much on what it is you wish to learn."

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[Erasmus]

Erasmus smiled as Xanth drew closer to him, close enough he could pick up her scent , a hint of Lavender in the air? This simple smell reminded Erasmus of his childhood, in particular his grandmother (The tough old bird she was). Erasmus stood still, instead motioning up at the statue over Xanth’s shoulder.

"When I used to think of you, I always used to think of that. That’s all I had to go on, to be honest... That big old monument to you that stands there, it’s impressive, sure... but it didn’t prepare me at all for the talk we’re having. "

Erasmus let a moment’s silence drift as he let this thought sink in before continuing. "Now I wasn’t the brightest kid in my class, that you’ll probably know, and... Theology was always something I had trouble with. I wasn’t terrible, but I found it so boring, you know? We’d learn about stories and temples and rituals... but you know what? That class was a waste of time; I’m not interested in any of that stuff, I just can't seem to figure it out, you know? I don't think in terms of facts, numbers and places, I think in terms of people, who they are, what they like, what they think. What I want to learn is something I can’t learn in any class, or from any statue, and I bet it’s something that no teacher or sculptor can explain to me. I’m interested in what makes you you as a person." explained Erasmus, tapping his temple with his index finger before looking up at the statue briefly, returning his gaze to Xanth afterwards. "“I don’t know, I feel I’ve heard everyone’s story on you but your own.”"

[Xanth]

Xanth grimaced, holding back a retort about being no one's grandmother nor being a "tough old bird" (the nerve!) in favour of biting her tongue. She normally did not have nearly this much difficulty affecting the graceful patience of a benevolent goddess, but Erasmus had an uncanny knack for pushing all the wrong buttons, often without even opening his mouth.

Focusing instead on what he was actually saying, Xanth pouted, still refraining from commenting. She could guess at where he was going with this line of conversation, but not only did free will prevent her from actually predicting the future, she also believed that some things simply ought to be said.

Turning slightly away from him, she took another step so that barely a foot separated them. Though he was only two inches taller than her current form, and too lean to really be considered intimidating, there was something in him that hummed with the potential for great violence. Like Zephyr before him, he made part of her feel very small, a not entirely physical reaction she could not fully understand.

"Theology was always something I had trouble with." At this, she pressed her lips together and gave a soft "psh". Xanth herself was not a huge fan in studying gods and religions, perhaps because she knew which of them were real and false. She had studied her own origins and the origins of her father as part of her own childhood studies, of course, but she had known without doubt that those stories were true and that understanding where she had come from and where she drew her powers would only serve to make her more powerful.

She could not honestly agree the class was a waste of time, however, simply for the fact that she approved heartily of learning for learning's sake. Studying cultures, and by extension their religions and beliefs, went a long way towards forging good political relationships and she could not dismiss as easily as he anything that helped bring about peace in her realms. She also understood how he, a fighter born, might find no interest in such studies. As a child, she herself had chafed at being educated at all, and it was only much later that she learned the value of what she had been taught.

As he fell into silence, Xanth eyed him speculatively. She was not altogether surprised, but she could not pretend to have expected his interest, either. It showed him in a much better light, to have listened well at every opportunity and now come for the truth. And yet, for many reasons, his interest unnerved her, not least because she did not wish to lie outright and yet could not - and would not - give him the entire truth. Doing so could unweave the very fabric of Elysia's existence; she could not foresee how he might respond nor if he would share his new knowledge and with whom. If he did, and she was discovered to be what was, essentially, an alien rather than a god... There were those who would not take such knowledge well and she would be damned if she would allow yet another war.

Her voice excrutiatingly gentle, she admitted, "I cannot give you what you desire, dear boy." She paused, her head tilted like a curious bird, as her gaze flicked over his face. "But I might answer three questions, should you ask them."

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[Erasmus]

Erasmus pondered the proposal a moment, contemplating the ultimatum carefully as he considered his options. What was it he wanted to know exactly?

"Well, I guess my first question is this: What do you make of all this? The world, I mean? Guys like me have been running around it for who knows how many years now and quite frankly I want to know what you think of what they’ve done with it... if anyone should have an opinion it’s you."

Erasmus gave Xanth a moment to reply, listening carefully to his response and standing there a moment as he considered it before committing it to memory, perhaps with a nod or a shake of his head. This was an important question for Erasmus, as it was for him a real gauge of character, but it was also true in what he said; he genuinely wanted to know what Xanth thought of what seemed to Erasmus as a world gone mad, full of violence and death that he knew he was caught up in, his refusal to take life himself his attempt to stem the tide of chaos that he feared would grip his own heart in the years to come.

[Xanth]

Xanth arched an eyebrow. She had almost expected a more personal, selfish series of questions but was not surprised to find his had so much more scope.

It was not a question she would particularly enjoy answering, however. She considered lying or refusing to give her opinion. This was part of the difficulty of playing the role of goddess: Sometimes, even the simple things could cause problems.

She sighed and turned away, lifting her feet higher than necessary to step with deliberation away from him, her toes arched down as the folds of her gown fell away to expose her legs up to the knee with each step. "I cannot say I am overly satisfied. The stories are true in this case: I had intended Elysia to be a paradise, one set far from the prejudices and cruelties your ancestors suffered." Perhaps, selfishly, she had also thought to create a safe haven for herself, as well, far from her father's machinations and the spread of his armies.

Her gown swished as she stopped and made a ninety-degree turn, eyeing Erasmus sideways. "I am proud, however. My people - your people - " She made a sweeping gesture that included all of Elysia and her realms. " - have accomplished so much for themselves, despite the wars and difficulties you face. I believe very firmly in free will, Mister Diestekles, and I accept everything that brings, good and bad. You think it a world gone mad." She smiled slightly. "And I agree there is room for improvement, but it is in the improving that heroes are born and that history is made." Her face darkened briefly. "How else can a man appreciate or even recognise the light, but for suffering the dark?"

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[Erasmus]

Erasmus looked at the ground, clenching and unclenching his fists as he considered this – he was in the dark, certainly... but was there any hope of light? Of course his fate was the dark, that much was certain, but in that case how could he find the light? There wasn’t a cure for vampirism as far as he knew, their very existence owing to that simple fact. Erasmus dismissed this; he wasn’t a hero, he was a thug. He had contributed more than his fair share to the darkness, why should he be allowed a shot at redemption? It was as if vampirism had been a punishment for his misdeeds, karma turning around and biting him after such a long life of stealing and fighting.

Erasmus knew at that point he was tired, tired of playing the villain... to do so was to do as they wanted, everyone saw him and saw a villain, a thug, a criminal, a bully... Erasmus was fighting for what he believed now, and what did he believe?

He believed he needed a break from being the bad guy.

"Alright." Replied Erasmus, shifting his weight. "Do you need any help improving things?" he asked with a little smile, arms crossed.

[Xanth]

Xanth listened to the boy's internal struggle, her head cocked slightly like a dog hearing something beyond the range of human hearing. Her hair slithered forward across her shoulders, curtaining her face and hiding her smile as the diaphanous folds of her gown rippled gently against her legs.

It was a smile of pride and one of sadness. He was seeking a way off a path he had set and had set for him years ago, searching for a way to make amends, and yet was near convinced he could not, that he had no value and could not be anything more than he already was. Such self-doubt broke her heart.

"Do you need any help improving things?"

Xanth tipped her head back, the curtain of her hair sliding back to reveal her smile and the twinkle in her eyes. "Always." But he was not ready, not for the kind of "improvements" he was hoping for, the big gestures. He held a great deal of potential, but he would need to start small.

Tilting her head again, she made a small gesture toward his heart. "Even thugs can be heroes," she murmured, deliberately focusing on the life he had led rather than what he now was. "It is for you to decide how."

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[Erasmus]

""It is for you to decide how.""

The corner of Erasmus’ mouth twitched into a smile as he looked at Xanth do... something with her hair and respond to his second question. Erasmus put his hands in his pockets, looking off to the side at some distant point before saying "I’m terrified of being alone.".

He let these words hand in the air a moment before elaborating. "Assuming someone doesn’t kill me, I know most of the people I know are going to die long before I do. Like it or not, you’re going to be the only one person I know that I’ll always going to be able to at least try and call on, even if you don’t answer." Erasmus almost groaned, now he sounded like some fanatic or zealot, something he really did not want to do... she probably had her answering machine full of their messages!

Assuming deities use answering machines.

Erasmus tried his best to look sincere, almost flinching at how open he had been to another person, and she was a person to him - when you stripped away all the dogma, all the organised religion, the monuments, the statues and the showy displays and bewildering powers what else was she but a person? She had misunderstood him before, but Erasmus hoped that this one thing was clear to her, despite Erasmus' awkward articulation.

"Are we going to talk again?"

[Xanth]

And here they had reached the crux of the matter, what lay at the heart of immortality. It was unusual for someone so young to recognise it so quickly, especially for one who faced a long enough life to begin with, but had she not already decided he had potential? Still, potential only carried a person so far and she was not apt to get her hopes up this early in the game. Not anymore.

Her first inclination was to tell him "We are all alone", but while it was true it was also false. In her younger days, Xanth had struggled with the mortality of the people she had grown close to. She remembered her first death vividly even after all these millennia, and for a time had sworn herself (not always successfully) away from befriending those who would die in what to her was the blink of an eye. Despite this, she could not consider herself entirely alone.

But nor could she tell Erasmus he was wrong. "I think you do your fellow Vampire a disservice," was all she would say on the subject. She disliked racism in all its many shapes and sizes, but he was adjusting to a new life that had been forced upon him and it was only natural he hold some bitterness. Just as with everything else, it would be up to him to find the good in them but she did not enjoy being the last resort for anyone. Better for him to find companionship among his own kind - when he was ready - than to rely on a goddess he was not entirely sure of.

"Are we going to talk again?"

Xanth's lips twitched, her eyes twinkling again. "I think it safe to say so." The impish look magnified. "Though you need never see me again."

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[Erasmus]

" "I think it safe to say so... Though you need never see me again.""

Erasmus broke into another smile, tilting his head as he looked Xanth in the eye, one of the few times he had maintained eye contact with her for any length of time. "Really? Now that would be a shame." He retorted, bringing one of his hands up to rub the back of his neck. "I’m glad to hear you’re willing to talk to me again, and I hope our next conversation is a little less serious... I was going to ask you what your favourite animal was... I guess that’ll have to wait until another day." added Erasmus, running his hand through his hair idly as he shrugged. There was something about her that made him feel funny. There was no other word for it; it wasn’t awe, it wasn’t the urge to revere her, it wasn’t fear, it wasn’t anger or anything else Erasmus could name, it was something he hated feeling, a lead ball in the pit of his stomach that fluttered in his chest and fogged the mind, it bordered a sickly sweet nausea.

"Before you go... I know this is cheeky of me, but do you mind if I ask you one more little tiny question? It’s nothing heavy or philosophical, don’t worry. What do you want me to call you? I’m going to need a name to go by, and I’d rather hear it from you than anyone else."

[Xanth]

Xanth's smile widened and warmed considerably. "My name is Xanth. That much is truth." She could not say exactly how much else of what he had heard was true, not without sifting through his memories in search of those stories, but he was likely to know more about her - her history within the realms, at least - than he realised.

And despite that promise of only three questions, Xanth would give him the answer to the unasked as well. It was perhaps the easiest to answer in one sense, though one of the most difficult in another. "I have no favourite animal: I love all things equally." It was not quite true; she tried to love all things equally, but, as Erasmus had noted himself, she was a person when all was said and done, given to have preferences. "Though I will admit to a personal... affection for butterflies." That was not even considering her bestial friends at the Temple nor Faroah, but she did not consider them animals anyway.

"Now," she said with some finality. "Be off with you before you vomit on my grass." This last was said in a teasing manner and a wink, before she turned sharply and began a slow, exaggerated march towards her statue.

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[Erasmus]

Nodding slowly, Erasmus pulled his other hand out of his pocket and put them both on his hips, a smirk on his face. Was she teasing him about the fact he liked butterflies as well as this sudden odd feeling in his gut? He bit his bottom lip a moment, one of his fangs visible as it dug into his skin, before turning to leave. He stopped, turning to get one last look at the Goddess with her long, flowing hair, her odd flowing dress and her glorious, swaying a-

Erasmus snapped his eyes back up to a higher and more appropriate area: her shoulders. Erasmus scolded himself, both for the fact he had let himself stare at the behind of someone who could probably know everything he saw, heard of felt... (he hoped she couldn’t feel what he felt, not now!) Erasmus smiled as he called out "Hey, Xanth. If you ever get bored or lonely wherever it is you go to do whatever it is you do, or you just need someone to help “keep it real”... " Erasmus grinned at this last part. "My door’s always open, I’d just prefer it if you knocked first!"

[Xanth]

Xanth was not normally interested in the more romantic pastimes of others. Most people were too intimidated to think of her that way, and those that were not tended to curb their more private thoughts before they became an issue for fear of her gelding them or turning them into toads.

In truth, she was flattered. She knew she was beautiful - did she not deliberately choose forms that would be seen that way? - but Erasmus' response was charming nonetheless. She was almost - almost - tempted to wiggle a little, an urge she did not often feel and certainly not one she would entertain. It was not, of course, the first time she had swayed minds that way, just as it was not the first time she had threatened or bribed, but she only ever used those tools when there was little other choice and certainly not for the fun of it.

Rather than react at all, she continued on her way, pausing only once she had reached her statue in order to flash a twisted smile at the vampire. There was no small amount of mischief in that smirk as she climbed gracefully back onto the plinth and shrank down to her pixie-form, settling on the statue's marble shoulder for a second before disappearing behind the head. "I never knock."

[d=purple]((OOC:[/d] Xanth has left the thread.[d=purple]))[/d]

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