Vigor Mortis

“Would you consider a relationship with me?”

The very words fill me with fear. No. No, I don't want that. I just want to be friends. Best friends, maybe, something special I have with no one else, but every aspect of dating, everything that I know of what a relationship is just isn't me.

But I can touch her. I can feel her. I can hold something and not have the person I'm holding freak out with an unrelenting dread like people do when I touch their souls. How did she do this? She's too special, too important, I don't want to say yes but I don't want to tell her no and I don't know what to do!

"W-wait," Penelope says hurriedly, squeezing me—the real me, the part I feel truly in control of—just the slightest bit harder. "Whatever you're thinking of, give me a moment to…"

She licks her lips nervously, eyes flicking around as she rapidly tries to decide on what to say. Like a coward, I focus on her, doing everything I can to avoid thinking about her question. I should just say no. Right?

"I know that you're… nonstandard," she continues slowly. "Whatever you think I mean by the question, it doesn't have to be that. You're different. I'm different. We can do things... differently.”

I swallow, nervously peeling a few tentacles away from my face.

"Differently how?" I ask.

"Well, ah, if you're open to the idea we would… have to explore that, I suppose. Figure out what we want and don't want out of… us. I mean, I know that to some degree things I want are not always the same things you want but I believe that we— oop?"

She cuts off with surprise as I poke her cheek with a tentacle.

"Sorry," I squeak. "Continue."

Her lips twitch into a smile, a bit more confidence filling her as a bit more embarrassment does the same with me. She scoots a little closer, idly winding my tentacle around her arm.

"When I talk about a relationship, what does that mean to you?" she asks.

I shrug, squirming slightly as I fail to resist the urge to wrap part of me around her ankle.

"I don't know," I mumble. "I guess what Lyn and Rowan have? Where they hang out together all the time and smooch a lot and have sex every few nights? Or… I don't know, I guess what you and Lord Erebus have where he's always trying to get you to go to fancy stuff and eat dinner together and spend time with you even if you're busy and you're sort of obligated to do it because it's a relationship? I mean, can you even ask me this if you have a fiancé?"

Penelope gives me kind of a sad look.

"Vita, I promise you, no matter how this plays out you and I are never going to be anything like Johan and I," she insists. "You don't need to worry about him. I'll take care of him."

She obviously means the murdery kind of taking care of him, not the kind with actual caring about someone involved. Figures, but whatever.

"I don't like fancy dinners, I don't want to monopolize your time," she continues. "Yes, my relationship with him is one built around obligation, but that's not the kind of relationship I want any more than you do. You know I don't particularly like the man."

I shrug.

"Maybe that's a bad example,” I admit. “But it's like… you know, Mateo went and got berated by his girlfriend before our mission because he felt obligated to subject himself to it. Relationships are more serious than friendships, right? It's not just about liking someone. You have to put all this effort into catering to them. With most people I don't even understand how they feel, I'm not gonna be able to do any of that for you."

"But you already do that for me," Penelope says. "I… I don't think you understand the degree to which just being around you is an emotional relief. It's like I'm relearning to be myself. I know what you're like, Vita. I don't love you in spite of that, I love you because of it. The way you think about people differently is beautiful to me. Have I ever asked you for anything you felt like you couldn’t provide?"

I wrap another tendril around her waist. She scoots closer to me, so we’re touching shoulder to shoulder.

"No," I admit. "You've never asked. But I know you want some things like that. You want the Lyn and Rowan stuff too. I… no. I can't do that."

She purses her lips, considering for a moment how blunt to be.

"Kissing and sex?" she asks.

I nod. She nods back, slowly, taking the confirmation of what she already suspected in silence for a while.

"Is it because I'm a woman?" she eventually asks. "Because I am in the process of learning how to change that, if that's what you prefer."

I shake my head, perhaps much more vigorously than I need to. I can tell Penelope hates the idea, but she would still do it if it meant she would get what she wants from me. It isn't the problem though.

"I don't find you attractive," I admit. "And, I... do find a lot of men attractive. But that doesn’t change anything. I would still never want to do that kind of thing with them. It's just…"

"…Gross human stuff?" Penelope supplies after I trail off.

I shake my head again.

"No, it's not that either. I just don't want anyone touching me in those places. Ever. It freaks me out. Like, I mean I've…"

I trail off again. This conversation is just nothing but uncomfortable.

"I don't know how to explain it," I tell her. "It's weird talking about this."

"I promise you, I will never speak a word to anyone else about anything we discuss here today," she says solemnly, and means it. "I'd like to understand you better."

I nod slowly, working the words over in my mind as I slowly convince myself to say them.

"I've, you know, tried that kind of thing with myself. Alone?" I admit hesitantly.

Penelope shrugs.

"Everybody masturbates," she answers simply. "Eminently normal."

"Right," I nod. "I mean, I know that, I feel people do it all the time. I didn't really get why nobody talks about it until now, where I'm trying to talk about it I guess."

She chuckles.

"A lot of things are like that. It feels different when it's about you."

"Yeah," I agree. "Anyway, um, it's kind of nice at first but… I don't know, does your body have, uh, spasms? Not the kind you had the little disciples do, a lot less than that. But it's still, you know, involuntary?"

"Yes," Penelope says, already starting to understand. "Most people do. That makes you uncomfortable?"

"It freaks me the fuck out," I admit. "I don't like losing control. And then it's not fun anymore and it all just feels like a huge waste. Everybody else seems to enjoy it but it only makes me feel... scared? It's not even just the spasms, those are the worst, but I hate everything that starts to happen. I hate knowing that just from touching certain places my whole body can start doing things that I don't want to do? And it's not even all that great beforehand, really, maybe because everything I feel from myself is kinda muted, and…"

I trail off, my thoughts stalling as a result of having thought I had more to say than I actually do. The words just fell out, dropped in a heap at Penelope’s feet. It’s not something I ever expected to explain to anyone. She waits patiently, making absolutely certain that I’m done before responding.

"That's not a necessary part of our relationship," Penelope answers simply.

I make a face at her, not quite believing that.

"Everybody seems to do it," I counter. "And again, it's something you want, isn't it? I can tell it is."

She frowns a little, but doesn't deny it. She's too smart to lie like that.

"I have been taught from a young age that, for a noblewoman, sex is more an act of manipulation than it is pleasure," Penelope says instead. "That is what my relationship is like with Johan. It's not displeasing, but it's not really intimate either, at least not for me. I have to make him feel like it is, of course. You are, I think, the first person I have ever known that makes me feel like I want that intimacy. I want to give genuinely, and receive in kind. And that is not something I know how to do, really, but perhaps it wouldn't require anything that would make you uncomfortable. If you are interested in trying, I mean."

"I don't really know what that means," I admit.

"Well…" Penelope hums, putting an arm around my shoulders, "does this make you uncomfortable?"

"No," I tell her, grabbing the hand with yet another tentacle and continuing to marvel at my ability to do so. "Shoulders are fine. At least, they are for you, but that's what matters here."

"Okay, so I have special shoulder permissions," Penelope says, grinning at me. "Good to know. But do you like this, or do you just tolerate it?"

I take a deep breath. Turns out breathing really does help with focus, just not for the things I usually want to focus on. I keep my mind on Penelope's arm around my body, the pressure and very slight warmth making its way through my armor, the assurance to my deeply ingrained instincts that yes, this is safe. She is safe.

"This is nice," I decide.

"Okay," Penelope murmurs, her grin turning mischievous. "And what about this?"

She lifts her arm off my shoulders, and I regretfully let her, my tentacle unwinding from that arm. Then she stands up, brushes off her butt, then to my great surprise she swiftly turns and plops herself down into my lap.

"Um?" I squeak, feeling my face turn red.

I'm a very small person, and though Penelope isn't all that much taller she's still larger than me and she weighs more than I do. The weight is surprising, and briefly causes me to panic before I remind myself that I can quite effortlessly throw Penelope off of me if I want to. Heck, I could remove her with only tentacles if I really felt like it, unless whatever conditions that end the spell come to pass. I'm a bit hesitant to touch her more than I already am, though, because I am increasingly aware of the fact that while her spell allows me to touch her body it does nothing to make my tentacles tangible to anything else, most notably including her clothing.

"Too much?" she asks seriously.

I wrap my arms, both physical and a few immaterial, around her waist to hug her in place.

"…No," I whisper. “It’s nice.”

Her smile grows wider, and she places one hand on my shoulder before wrapping the other under my chin, holding my head in place like she does when examining my eyes. Again, I know that the support is not a trap, the pressure is far from inescapable. It's just there to guide.

"Then," she whispers, leaning slowly in closer to me, "what about this?"

For a good few moments I'm utterly dumbfounded as to what she's doing, moving her body forward and closing her eyes. Even after her lips pucker out it takes me a beat to register the terrifying realization that she is about to kiss me. My brain stalls as I feel her breath on my face.

In a moment of panic, I thrust a tentacle up between her lips and mine. She realizes what it is as soon as she touches it and she opens her eyes, moving her body away.

"…No kissing, then?" she asks, trying and failing to hide her disappointment.

"Sorry," I whisper. "N-no kissing."

She nods, a soft smile returning to her features.

"But cuddling is okay?"

"Cuddling… is okay," I confirm, my arms still around her.

She sighs, relaxing her body and leaning up against mine.

"That's a win for me then," she murmurs. "I'll gladly take it."

I hold her for a while, incomplete thoughts fluttering around the inside of my head, unable to be voiced. It is nice, even if it is also many, many other things. Penelope is warm, and holding her body against mine is somehow a comfort that not even an army of ten thousand Risen could match. Still, thoughts keep nagging at me.

"This isn't all you wanted," I remind her.

She shrugs, not moving away.

"I've never fucked anyone I was actually in love with," she answers lazily. "If you aren't going to be the exception, I will be fine living with that, I think. I could probably figure out a way to remove my libido, a lot of my research for Sky seems like it will be relevant for that, at least tangentially."

"You shouldn't have to do that," I protest.

She snorts in a rather unladylike display of bemusement.

"Well, unless I want to spend my whole life rather sexually frustrated, the only other alternative is that I keep a few politically relevant people on the side who can be swayed by that sort of thing. I feel it would be rather crass to go through all this effort to date you just to turn around and grab a few self-important concubines that think they're lords, though." She wrinkles her nose. "Or ladies, I suppose, but the two gay ones I know are moving out of city."

"I mean, I don't really care if you do that kind of thing," I say frankly. "As far as I'm concerned you can have sex with anybody you want as long as it isn't me."

Penelope laughs.

"Why Vita, I think that's the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me," she jokes. "By the way, just a quick reminder that I love you."

I think about that, squirming a little as I adjust her weight. This is weird and different, not at all something I ever imagined myself doing. No matter how I look at Penelope, I really don't find her attractive at all.

But I do like having her close. I like holding her, I like being able to press my soul against her skin. Beyond that, I can see how she’s more than a friend. She’s a partner. I don’t consider myself stupid, but she’s smart in all the ways I’m not. More than anyone else, she understands me and what I need. She cares. That’s special, unique to her, not induced by a feeling of obligation or outright mind control. Maybe I don’t love her in exactly the same way she loves me, but...

"I love you too," I tell her with certainty.

It's hard to describe what hearing those words does to her. In some ways, if I'm being reductive, they do nothing. She's still exactly the same Penelope, in every way that matters. But the rush of relief and joy that fills her is warmer than the tightest squeeze I could give her.

"Is that a yes, then?" she asks.

"Yeah," I decide. "I'm still not sure what all it means. I'm probably just going to default to treating you exactly like I always have, if we're being honest."

"That's fine," she says. "That's more than fine. Although fair warning: while it's wonderful that you're open to letting me be with other people, I suspect I'm more the murderously jealous type."

"Uh," I blink. "Huh."

"So maybe don't cuddle like this with anyone else," she says pleasantly, absolutely dead serious.

"What about with Rosco?" I ask immediately, eyes narrowing.

She blinks, taken aback a little.

"Well. I suppose that's a reasonable exception?"

"And Jermaine?" I ask.

"Jermaine too, yes,” she grumbles. “You can cuddle with as many stuffed animals as you like."

That's a relief. The important stuff is taken care of.

"What about Vitamin?" I ask.

She gives an exasperated sigh, irritated at being forced to renege on her threat.

“Physical intimacy with family is different, and any amount you previously displayed in my presence is also acceptable. Okay?”

I nod.

“Okay. Want to go kill some more monsters?”

“Yes,” she answers, chuckling, but instead of getting up she rolls off my body, picking me up and moving me with her so that we end up switching places, me curled up on top of her.

“But I’d like to stay here a little while longer, if that’s all right,” she murmurs.

I’m still for a moment, but slowly I wrap my multitudinous self around her, settling in comfortably. My eyes close as she starts to stroke my hair.

Yeah. Staying here is good too.