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[log: dinner with god : opposite perspectives]
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Karakael had barely remembered his anniversary. And such an important one too. Ten years The Visitor had known him - and that time was more than tripled for him thanks to the speed at which his universe ran. He would be eternally grateful for the girl from the community who had reminded him.

As it was, he had managed to entertain and distract all of his childsoldiers to the extent that they did not notice when he slipped into the overcosm and away from their watchful eyes. He had ensured that the planet they would have their date on was not going to erupt into conflict, that the city they were staying in had quieted its race related problems, that the street was still in the high rent area, and that the cafe would have a quiet, slow evening. With any luck, Lorah would have no inkling as to how many weeks of careful planing had gone into creating this night.

She always did hate his flare for the dramatic.

So he picked her up quietly, avoiding the prying eyes of her Guardians with practiced ease. The Visitor was waiting, smiling slightly with the smirk that was her normal expression. She had managed to tone down her inhuman qualities for the evening - her form only shifted slightly as he bowed and complemented her. No matter what face she chose to wear he found her beautiful - but the Inquestor knew she despised such complements, believing them to be mostly lies. In her case, he truly believed it. Even at her most frightening Lorah possessed all the strength and dignity that he himself had always struggled to attain.

He chatted to her amicably as he navigated their way through the Overcosm, knowing the chaotic wasteland still disturbed her, even though she was loath to admit it. Their conversation ranged from the topics of his most recent research subjects, to some difficulties she was having destroying a new religion that had cropped up on her world. By the time they had reached the cafe they had only scratched the surface of her current difficulties. It was a fascinating subject.

Karakael pulled a chair out for his companion, then laughed when she flipped him back into his seat from the perceived insult. The Visitor could pull out her own chair, thank you. He let her order the wine, having picked the list himself. They bantered back and forth over the appetizers, and he pointed out the amazing sunset that had been his reason for picking this world. She made appropriately appreciative sounds, then they spend the next few minutes watching the pedestrians walk by. Humans in his galaxy were far more diverse than those on her world, despite her attempts to diversify them. He slipped away to speak with the waiter while she was distracted by a four-armed bear-like human who was juggling cantaloupe.

He returned with their food, and found her gazing at him, a small smile on her face. He hid a blush with practiced ease, and bowed elaborately over the meal, making her laugh at his over the top pantomime.

The food was amazing. He knew it would be, and hoped she appreciated it. It was so hard to tell with her. Ellora had such a capacity for randomness, and it always astounded him when she exposed it - such as when she casually brushed his hand and caught his eye.

She had changed over the evening, as he knew she would, going from a black woman with close cropped hair to a woman with pale skin and freckles. Now she looked at him from an aspect with long graying hair and deep chiseled lines in her face. Her eyes where what changed fastest - spinning the color wheel constantly so her irises seemed to twist and dance. He could loose himself in those eyes - had done it before, in fact, though he couldn't for the life of him remember when.

Those eyes reminded him how different they were, how he could loose himself in her and never find a way out, how he was so insignificant in her life, and could be forgotten like all the rest...her touch broke his moment of doubt, and he dropped his eyes at the touch of skin against fabric.

One must accept transience - that was what her namesake had once told him. All things die and change, and Elloran had known that more instinctively than most. Perhaps it was wrong to call such an awesome creature by his old friends name. Elloran was fixed in the past, a memory that would fade with time, while Ellorah was permanent despite her ever changing form.

She caught his chin, and for a moment he felt ashamed of what he was and what he could never be. Skin on fabric, his errors and triumphs sketched forever into his face. Karakael paused before raising his head, mentally shaking away the doubt. He was not much of a consort, were he to let his own worries and inadequacies get in the way of his relationship with his Lady.

"Thank you. For the evening." She whispered, before dropping her hand as he realized that she had not flinched, at all from his touch. He loved her for that very reason, and smiled as he kissed her hand in a parody of thanks.


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