Of Fear and "City Philosophy"

λ^27, Third Shift of Steam, DA 4876, Fallen Ixut
(Hold of the ‘Goldie’ Tunnle Tug)

The lithe form of Prox-e slinks into the cargo hold and glances sideways at the mass of dark metal that is the Despot, “So, how’s things?” even as the blinding radiance of a fusion cig ignites with a twirl in one of his hands.

The Despot flinches at the sudden flash of light and grumbles, “Maker’s mercy, those cigarettes are a danger and a blight.”

“Not really. They’re for show and a little electric stimulation,” Prox-e presses the cig to his finger, and the magnesium/phosphate makes a few sparks before sputtering out.

“Well, I tell the assembly my S.E.S. is not so dangerous either – not like they take my words to heart,” Despot throws back a swig of his brackish blood to punctuate his point, the black jade goblet noticeably drained.

He shrugs and takes a puff from his cig, “From an unimposing guy like you? It’s a shame”

Despot shrugs, “Our living world is a vast place and yet how much strength remains to our lord Maker? Physicality and size are illusions that deceive – true vision is something much rarer. Threats can come in many forms and even the baker is fearful to the starved, for is it not his hand that enforces suffering in their eyes?”

Proxi shifts his feet with an aloof gesture, “The baker’s a fool to fear the starved. They want his service, not his life. It’s not the starving and suffering he needs to fear, but rather how it clouds their judgement” He looks down, “Fear is what we all fear. Fear of death, fear of loss, they change people. People do stupid, dangerous things, to avoid what they fear.” He chuckles, "Or so I’ve heard. Old stories from old ghosts, or whatever.”

The Despot’s eyes gleam, "Been speaking to Sleeping Beauties then? Vist has many stories to tell if one has an ear for them, Shield is much tighter of lip however. Insofar as the baker, the starved fear him as well, he creates the food and protects it from the beggar. He creates their release from suffering and yet deprives them – he is their jailor and tormentor.”

After a short pause the Despot continues, “Fear, it is part of the world, just as Lord Ku is a part of the word. Lord Ku is part of Autochthon and thus part of everything the Maker’s hands have made. From Divine Minister to cringing rat – all were made to know fear. Some men conquer their fear and face the threats of the world with the cool sweat of that fear keeping their minds sharp and honed. Those that crumble from Lord Ku’s blessing – they are flawed creations perhaps?"

Proxe shakes his head slightly, “You’ve been reading too much city philosophy. The baker’s just working for himself. The Lupen do the same. Whether he shares, whether they riot is up to them. Fear…Well, let me ask this. Adam seems ‘honed’. He seems to fear things. Would you say that’s the best state for him? You said yourself he’s less than stable. You don’t trust him. He could try to cut the wind, he could shoot a pipe that he feared was a snake. If I wasn’t here to handle the more stressful tediums, he’d confuse small talk with an interrogation and break someone’s arm in half”

Despot closes his eyes in silence for some moments, "I know little of Adam’s past or the trauma that must haunt one tied to the pyre flames and howling dead that rule the boroughs and alleys of Ixut’s dancing shade. I think in time Adam will find that these idealist Sovans will be a calming presence – or perhaps not. I do not believe such fears serves him well, now, or in the trials Lord Ku will set us upon. Yet, that fear is part of him, I think it better he master the fear and make it his weapon and his slave than throw it away. When a man carves a hole in his heart, something else always finds a way to fill that wound…”

Proxe rolls his eyes and takes another drag, “Such a ray of hope.” he takes a sigh and looks up, "You’re missing the point, I think. Fear doesn’t hone you. it pushes you. It pushes your hand, usually to hurt others. It’s not his fear that made him a valuable assassin. It was his senses, but those got mucked up along the way. Now he sees too much, and can’t’ shut anything out, can’t filter it, can’t control it. If he relies on his fear, he’ll become no better than a feral.

“Humf,” the Despot turns his head and looks through Prox-e, through the crawler and beyond, “One can only hone one’s mind when he has a purpose. Adam needs a target to set his mind and soul upon – his emotions should follow. Purpose can push one far more than fear. I merely believe that two hands pushing are greater than one. Speak to your ward and find a purpose and a dream – as that takes form in his mind the fear for himself will fade. Fear for his dreams will take its place and a man can protect things beyond himself far better, for we are all blind to our backs, to hidden parts of ourselves.”

Prox-e chuckles, “Thanks for agreeing with me” he puts out his cigarette, “Hopefully he’ll be able to get past this…let’s hope its a speedbump” He admits, absorbing it back into his pocket, “While it’s fun keeping his head together, I’m cutting into his na-” he rolls his eyes, “No I wasn’t going to call it that…It’s sounds silly, that’s why, okay fine fine” He sighs, “His ‘meditation’, so I gotta slip out. Fun talking to you, Mister Blue Sky”

The Despot dips his head and watches the heavy door close, “Blue skies, do they really exist?”

Of Fear and "City Philosophy"

Reintegration Protocol Nehebkau