Who: Khem, Mattil, Rafael
When: Not long after her return?
What: Mattil is surveying this world's shifters.

"What did you need?" Rafael asked, poking his head into the surgery room at the clinic. "Lillian said you had someone to introduce me to?" He glanced around, knowing that someone would have told him she came in with anyone but STILL one never knew with Khemrys. She shifted things.

Khemrys was washing her hands and looked up with a tired smile, "aye, my apology for the delay. My Lady's husband wished to meet you as a leader of weres."

Um, well, not what he was expecting no. "Your lady being...the amber token lady?"

"Gunnora," she chuckled softly. "And yes. Her lord is Mattil. The shifters of my world were crafted by him, and so he wishes to meet those here."

"Crafted? We weren't made by any god, he knows that he can't just act like that damn vamp right?" he churred unhappily.

"He knows!" she assured, touching his arm. "He comes respectfully!"

He looked her over then at the young rat she'd been tending, annoyed but, "fine. If he keeps it short." Holy shit that made the world slide sideways a touch, an ebon skinned and dangerous feeling man standing before him in a shadowed wood?

"Short it is," Mattil smiled, teeth sharper than they should be. "My apology, my few followers here are...very dangerous. It effects my aspect."

"Vamps and the shifters that went to...your world?" he drawled. "Does it make you horny too?"

Mattil tilted his head and then glanced back toward the edge of the wood with a chuckle, "yes, but my wife hasn't complained about that aspect."

Well, that was a taunt that just turned into a casual question wasn't it? Damn. He sighed, looking around, "so what do you want?"

Mattil chuckled, shifting to a shorter, lighter shape and leaning against a tree, "I want to talk to you. You lead your shifters, and they are all of a kind yes? Your Rodere?"

"And?" Never, ever give away more than a client, or god, knew. That was his motto when possible!

"And you are all so...interesting." Very in fact. "Your shifting is incomplete, sloppy work. Contagious and violent," he shook his head slightly. "It feels like wastes work, twisted and short sighted, but you all persist."

"Yeah, we're good at that," he hissed, narrowing his eyes.

"I meant no disrespect," he held up his hand, "my word to such. I was commenting on what your own absent gods did to this world," he sighed.

"Gods?" he barked, amused.

"Yes, the overlands are...stark, blasted and abandoned. They had their own wars I think and all withdrew, no one answers, so we'll work on making those lands healthy once more." They were no strangers to generational waves upon new lands and old alike!

Huh, that was kind of...fitting wasn't it? As fucked up above as below so to speak. "What about the Jesus Freaks that screw with the Circus?"

Mattil sighed, considering that, "they believe. Belief is sometimes more powerful than presence if the deity behind it is...absent." Or dead! Given the state of the world he was hoping for dead. There was some very messed up messages scratched in stones and no one heeding them faithfully which meant flaws in the connection between followers and gods. Not something he wanted to have to teach a strange godling honestly. Better they were...gone. "And that particular one apparently hated non-humans."

"Yeah no joke," he admitted with a snort. "So really, why are we talking? I mean I don't want to sound irreverent or some shit but..."

"...but," he agreed, amused. "Normally I would approach every shifter of their own accord and greet them, see if they wished to hunt in my wood and receive my blessings, but this world has gone rather astray. So I am approaching you. The other leaders in time, as mainly I work through my avatars or scions of my wife."

"Approaching me for what?" IT WAS LIKE PULLING TEETH HERE!

Mattil eyed him, amused, "well, I do not ask for worship," he admitted. "I am looking for followers, people who will run under my name."

"No."

He held a hand, chuckling, "not like you think. I don't call you to tasks except under extreme duress and even so those asked can say no even as I offered the choice to those seeking the lady Khemrys in my lands," he assured. "It is not like your bonds with 'called animals' or the recent power nexus that was abused."

"Power nexus?"

"The woman's core? Anita?"

"Your wife's follower put an end to that thankfully," Rafael snorted. "No gods needed."

He laughed, amused, "and what do you think she used?" he offered gently. "We ensure that oaths and bonds in our lands are honored, and where our followers walk are our lands. So in attacking the lady Khemrys, she attacked our world, and was subject to the laws of oath breaking as she had betrayed all trusts in her. Willingly."

He paused at that, considering, "that was one of the best things to happen here in a long time," he admitted grudgingly. "My people were being....harmed a great deal as she was withholding support."

"Because you would not bend knee?" he asked. He knew similar stories!

"Because I wouldn't fuck her or feed my people to her bed," he noted grimly. "But SHE was the protector, so our agreement with the Circus was null and void unless we went through HER!" he snarled.

"And so my wife's follower had moon metal laced hands most days of the week," he agreed grimly. "You are strong to have resisted such."

Rafael shifted uncomfortably, considering that, "strong doesn't mean shit sometimes," he admitted. "And this city has enemies. I was...close. Before things broke. Too many more in the clinic and I don't know what I would have done." It was...easier to say that here. Wherever here was honestly, than in the 'real' world.

His world.

If they were the same thing.

Mattil offered his waterskin forward, nodding, "a fell place she landed in, but it is often the case. Those of the light will ever be in places where they are needed."

Rafael eyed that bulging bit of leather then shrugged, taking it to swig water that was...cleaner than anything their world managed. Fuck. "That another thing your world 'ensures'?"

He shook his head, "no. It is..balance. All worlds seek it, ours, yours, others beyond the gates. There was a great imbalance here, and a light in need of escape in ours. Gates are one method to correct such."

He snorted, passing the skin back, "so why the hell wasn't she SAFE huh? You're so high and mighty, why did a slip of a girl end up that terrified and running that far instead of protected by you?"

"She is not a hunter," Mattil admitted quietly, "and her pursuer...was. Much like your people went askew biologically, my own shifters in our world went astray morally. And that is on the mend now yes, there is only so much I can touch a world without it...crumbling."

Rafael laughed again, shaking his head, "kids huh?"

"...much akin yes."

"Daaaamn," he snorted. "So what happens if you were to, you know...touch stuff?"

Mattil shook his head gently, "some things are strong, and know what they are. Stone knows itself, as do most metals. Anything less certain and they can be...unmade or changed by direct interference. And atmosphere is...such a chancy thing. We can stop in, say hello, take tea with our followers, but longer? And we unravel things around us and we are more real than the world most live in. Too heavy. Too dense. Like dropping stones through a spiderweb."

"So...where the hell are we now?!"

"Between," he chuckled. "Like fog. Between your world and my own layer. I manifest the area around us, you bring the ground under your feet as you need it. It is a safe place to meet."

"So I'm...missing from my world?!"

"There's no time here. You are not there, that is truth, but will not be away longer than a breath no matter how long we stay here."

A breath. How long was a breath?! That was a terrible measure of time for someone used to precision like him! "So Khemrys is alone in the break room?"

"Briefly," he chuckled. "She can feel you regardless. An incredible healer that lady."

"My people love her," he noted simply.

Mattil nodded, "my wife's followers, especially those who are powerful are...easy to love. Kindness is often a core attribute, selflessness. It is the aspect of my love that she treasures most and so she favors those displaying it."

Rafael eyed the woodline, considering, "but it's not..."

"No," Mattil assured. "It is simply who she is, not any form of charm or attractive boosting her. She is simply someone....of the right hand path. Good even in the face of darkness. Rare."

"Right hand?"

Mattil grinned, "my aspect holds both but the right hand is what you would call clean. Good.The left Hand is morally corrupt. Terrible and dark, twisted. Those of our world, or who have been, can scent the left hand, even as teh left can scent the right."

"...bullshit."

Mattil snorted and lifted a hand, "you are not of the Left, nor the Right, but you can sense those who are. You are drawn to the lady Khemrys instinctively because despite not being a paladin of good, you yearn for that path. The Left, well, this is what you would scent in my lands..." he lifted a hand and eyes appeared in the shadows, the crawling miasma of evil wafting from under the suddenly ominous boughs.

"THE FUCK?!" Rafael gagged, lifting an arm to block his nose, the other going for the gun in his waistband.

Mattil shook his head, dismissing the phantoms, "breathe safely," he noted. "But that was....a preview of my world. Those who went there experienced such and can now sense it in your own world as skill once awakened will always be with a person."

Rafael rubbed his noise, growling softly to himself as he tried to stop gagging, and slowly released the gun in his hand without drawing, "will I be exposed to that shit now?!"

"...yes."

"Fuck." THAT WAS A POTENTIAL PROBLEM YES.

"Any sense may be a weapon at need," Mattil admitted softly. "And better to know if those you bargain with ever reek of such."

"Do I owe you for this?!"

"No," he shook his head. "I do not work on that kind of system. "This is simply a sense awakened that any may have at need." And for a leader might be priceless.

"That kind of system," Rafael repeated, "so how DO you work?!"

The god shrugged slightly? "Here? I'm making it up as we go, figuring out what is healthy for your lands. For those already sworn to me a few tweaks to their abilities, shoring up weaknesses, but as I lend power so too do I gain power in this land. The more I work with the more I can bring the Huntgrounds here and the greater the influence of bonds and promises in this land. And my followers influence me. I take on aspects of my followers, and ideas that are...hard to fight. Another reason I am glad to have people help with the Weres in my world, my wife was not happy with the...mistreatment that echoed in me whether I followed it or no. She could read it in my eyes whenever I fought their influence."

"...they hit women?"

Mattil shuddered, "tey grew mistrustful of women as a fallen god created a cult and drew in their vulnerable women and children when the men were away at war. It was a death cult in the end and many could not forget such."

"...how long ago was the war?"

Mattil smiled bitterly. "over a thousand years in your world."

"Way too long to hold a grudge."

"Not in their mind," Mattil admitted quietly. "It was but a normal span of a single life, so the wounds remained."

...

...

...

"Say that again?" Rafael blinked.

"A normal span of a single life," Mattil dutifully repeated.

"A THOUSAND YEARS?!"

"Yes," Mattil nodded. "I am told your people live closer to those of the Dales? A hundred perhaps?"

Rafael closed his eyes and counted to ten a few times in a few languages then sighed, "yeah. That's a good number. Technically shifters can live longer but it's a violent world out there."

Mattil nodded, "and so I approach the leaders of people akin to mine own," he chuckled. "Would you join me?"

What the fuck? Rafael eyed the god then soghed, "I need to think on that. What happens if I do?"

"You gain the Huntgrounds, a blessing, and strength at meed?" he blinked.

"...and?"

Mattil swigged water then shook his head, "well, I ask if you accept me to be allowed to speak to your followers? There is no echo effect, you cannot swear for them in this."

He nodded, staring at the loam by his feet, as real and damp as it should be for a forest like this, "I need to think."

"Of course. Time means very little here."

Rafael snorted, "it does to us. And what are the Huntgrounds?"

"...we'll discuss that next time I think," he chuckled, lifting a hand. "Thank you for allowing this time, leader of the Rodere."

Rafael opened his eyes, taking in the familiar, comfortable scene of scratched, yard share formica table and mismatched plates in the breakroom and huffed a sigh, "that was...something."

Khemrys smiled, "aye, gods tend toward such."

"Gods," the leader of rats snorted and stood, scratching a hand through his hair. "Fucking gods. Thank you for your help tonight Khemrys."

"No thanks needed lord Rafael," she smiled tiredly. "Thank you for your time in oddities such as I bring."

"Yeah yeah. I"ll take you home when you're done here." But for now he needed to...think. Yes. Think a great deal.