ticktopis_observatorium | A Morbid Appointment

A Morbid Appointment

After a mutually interesting conversation between the Morbid Socialite and the Chimeric Professor, both students of the Correspondence agreed to meet outside of class for some follow-up lessons, most probably. They decided to do so in the Professor's home, a somewhat baroque, early georgian two-story house illogically placed on a high place in Watchmaker's Hill, overlooking London from one balcony and the Unterzee from the other, the direction of which was of course issued via Tularemia.

The hour of the appointment was near, and the Professor was setting up the materials they gathered for the ocasion, eager to deepen the acquaintance with one such intriguing gentlemortician.

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The Socialite stood as well, accepting the notes and humming. "Then I suppose the first question I should be asking you is if you know what the Masters are capable of? What can't they or won't they do, if you are free to say? What have they provided for other winners and how have they potentially altered the results?" In all honesty, it hadn't yet occurred to the Socialite that it would be the job of the Masters of the Bazaar to provide the winner their reward, that it was not simply a Law of the game or a simple fact of reality that the reward would be provided. Of course, someone would have to lose and someone would have to pay for there to be a winner with a provided reward.

The Professor frowned, rolled their eyes and sighed. "That's... A very good yet grievous question, my friend. I am aware of some cases, but given the very personal nature of the request, I'll keep them anonymous. Let's see..."

After some recalling and ordering of the thoughts, they start enunciating. "They are able to take a person several echelons higher or lower in the Chain of Being, via precisely batbiorangilogical surgery. I know someone requested for a child to be born with very definite traits and specific capabilities beyond any human. I know they can easily bestow immortality, or something close enough, for 'a reasonable extension of one's alotted time'. They can save someone from utter consumption and from the verge of a fate far worse than final death, with full recovery and no visible consequences in body or mind. Everything related with riches, properties and political power, of course. They can't provide love, on this they are adamant. And also it is said..."

This last part is said in the lowest tone audible for a fellow human being. "It is said someone requested the death of a Master, and it was bestowed... The details are lost to me, though."

Then, with a thoughtful silence, they added for greater effect. "And there's rumours, I haven't yet confirmed personally, and I can understand why... Of people whose loved ones died an unjust death under the Sun, and negotiated their return."

The briefest flicker of light crossed the Socialite's expression at the last part. It disappeared quickly, easily overcome by a simple nod and a hum as the Socialite held the notes closer. "That's quite a complex array of rewards. I believe, by some stretch of the imagination, that I might be able to find the methodology to my desires in their rank. Somehow." Something in what the Socialite said was a lie, but it was impossible to tell what.

"I thank you dearly for what you have offered me. I've a long way to go before I can even play, I realize, but this has taken me a hearty step further than I was before our conversation. Though, it is getting late. It was wonderful speaking with you and I anticipate our next meeting."

The Professor led Mori back to the entrance, once finished the conversation. It was completely unnecessary, the house wasn't big enough to get lost by far, but they were a good ~~host~~-

An emphatic shake of the head, that word was starting to sit wrongly in their mind. They'll deal with that later. For now Mori was there, and them both had shared so much in so little time...

"I thank you for trusting me in such matter, and accepting my advice. I truly wish I could do more, but of course I wish you the best. It will be great to enjoy your company again soon. And- Oh!"

The interruption came in the form of two exhausted yet ecstatic furred predators pawing their way towards the end of the stairs right when the two gentlefriends reached the floor. Fur ruffled, panting, and with little hints of having caused material damage. One could call that a success!

"Ah, there you are little dears. Did you have a good time? Maybe I could get you wild ladies a well deserved treat." The Professor said briefly going to the kitchen and grabbing two different pots containing biscuit-looking pieces. Ones shaped like scarabs, other like spiders.

"There, do enjoy..." Offering Noa the scarabs and Tularemia the spiders. "A personal recipe, but most of them are made by commission. Noa's favourites are a biscuit pastry enriched with phosphorescent scarabs and meat broth. The spider-shaped ones are fully leathered meat, for the more delicate diets..." They explain after the precious predators get their share.

"See you soon, Mori. And- Ah! I almost forgot..." reaching towards the coffee table for the previously neglected petit-four, enjoying it right in that moment. "Mmh... A delightful choice, I will certainly go look for more." And with that and an offered handshake, the house's door is open for Mori to ~~flee~~ exit.

The handshake was interrupted by a yank, gentle, but insistent, pulling the Professor into a kiss. The Socialite kept it short, chaste, tempting, pulling back before either could get too deep. "I suppose my secondary plans can wait. Thank you for having me, Professor, and I will see you in class."

With that, the Socialite left, traipsing down the steps with a new plan and, with luck, a new ally.

The Professor was kissed entirely by surprise, yet didn't attempt no avoid it in the slightest. Perplexed, looking at Mori go, their hand softly reached towards their lips. They of course were capable of blushing, despite the scales making it hard to notice, and their face definitely radiated warmth. An amused half-smile finally appeared, once they returned back home and closed the door.

"It seems I'm quite the stunning cadaver after all..." The announce to anyone in particular, reaching to pet Noa lovingly.

"And how was my joyous little thing, my soft cutie, you predatorial trickster, fluffy dear who-"

The cuddly session is cut short once the disastrous state of one carpet, shredded and frayed by excited tiny yet powerful claws.

"You barbaric beasts!"

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A Morbid Appointment

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