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[impure_tale]

Monsieur Riddick, is it? I believe we have delayed long enough, and I crave a proper introduction.

Comments

[impure_tale]

But you appear quite eager to leave, nonetheless.

[with_my_teacup]

What can I say. It's a hobby of mine. Force of habit.

[impure_tale]

You're a poor liar.

Unfinished business?

[with_my_teacup]

Really. Got some dead prison guards who say I can make them think what I want them to think if I have to.

[impure_tale]

None of them were me.

[with_my_teacup]

I like a challenge.

[impure_tale]

So why are you trying so hard to find a way out?

[with_my_teacup]

I'm allergic to something in the local clothes detergent. Gives me hives. Sensitive skin.

[impure_tale]

Then don't wear clothing.

[with_my_teacup]

Well, if my warden says so.

[He leaves the comm on the desk and starts to strip briskly.]

[impure_tale]

[Color him impressed]

I don't see even so much as a rash.

[with_my_teacup]

[He sits back down again with the comm, unselfconsciously naked.]

Maybe I was lying.

[impure_tale]

Oh no, you definitely were. [Putting his amusement aside] I should probably make clear now that I am not fond of dishonesty.

Hence why this is on a public channel.

But I have few complaints to do with nudity.

You positively riddle me with conflict.

[with_my_teacup]

As far as clothes, it's like I said. Amazing what you can live without, especially when the temperature's right. So it's nice we have something in common.

But on the subject of honesty.

We have a difference of opinion here. [He spreads his hand.] I find that getting too candid can leave you open to a whole lot of weakness. Show all your vulnerable spots.

[impure_tale]

Actually, at the right angles I can see your vulnerable spots just fine.

I, for instance, am an open book. I am candid about all things related to my life, and my past deeds and associations only have as much power over me as I allow them.

[with_my_teacup]

Being naked ain't vulnerability. I'm real durable. [He shifts and stretches, completely without modesty.]

But I'm also an inmate. And you're a warden. Tell me, when you were on my side, you never felt like it was useful to hang on to your own business.

[impure_tale]

[Oh, he's sure he could find a few sensitive spots.]

No, I didn't. I quite enjoy infamy. [a pause] Though you have reminded me: in the tradition of remaining an open book, I am having a copy of my file sent to your room. I have done this with every Inmate I have had. I have found it simplifies things, and it's just fair.

[with_my_teacup]

Well, my rep didn't follow me onto the barge. I just gotta work on it here.

I could tell you what human blood tastes like on your tongue but you've already got the vampires to fill you in. All I've got right now is my mystique.

[He pauses, looks around, and stands to retrieve the file that's suddenly on his end table. For the first time in the conversation-- in a way that being naked on a public channel didn't even come close to-- there's a faint edge of tension in his muscles, his neck, the slightest hesitation in his step.

Nudity, easy.

Omniscient admirals who can drop things in his room without him noticing, fuck that.]

Nice gesture.

[impure_tale]

I've also tasted blood before. My tongue was cut out before I died. They didn't do a very clean job. [He shrugs] You're welcome.

[with_my_teacup]

[Riddick leans forward, looking at him from a different angle. It's obvious the man came from money and doesn't have the physical chops to be a psycho-killer. It's funny that they've wound up in the same kind of places.]

Obviously I gotta read your writing.

[impure_tale]

We'll start with the file. The writings are in the library if you decide you'd like to sample them.

...Most of them.

[with_my_teacup]

I'm already intrigued.

The one I talk to about the kitchen-- Iroh? That him?

[impure_tale]

Iroh or Mademoiselle Parker, if I remember correctly.