Roleplay: Lilith x Spizzzo

Dated: September 23, 2026

The Watch Tower

Lilith delivers Spizzzo the promised raccoons, and the two of them begin the long process of getting acquainted.

Lilith makes her way towards the watchtower. She mostly the same as last time only dryer and she has swapped out her clothes for some old but clean scavenged attire. She is still wearing her mom's fancy shoes, but they are at least clean now.

Spizzzo quietly stirs the stew, a small pile of smashed apart driftwood nearby to feed into the cook fire.

Lilith is carrying a couple of appropriately prepared for cooking raccoon corpses. "Well he hasn't found any good dirt on anybody yet, but there are a lot more raccoons than I thought in that house. I also found one of my dad's exes and someone who was supposed to be my sister so it's been fun." She shrugs a bit. " What about you? How's the rat catching? Feed anyone hot?"

Spizzzo listens with quiet contemplation to his new friend. Those are all words, but they don't seem right. Maybe she's from the same place as Rory? Or maybe he just forgot what some words mean. With a bright and gracious smile, he explains, "I think most of us are sufficiently dirty so far, but I don't know which are the good kinds. Like fertile planting soil? I didn't take you for a farmer, but I also didn't remember what a farmer was until I started talking, so there is that." He accepts the offered raccoons and breaks them down slightly further by the expedient measure of cracking their joints apart and snapping a few of the longer bones in his hand before depositing the whole mess into the stew pot. "Not very many people are hot. Most are quite cold, but more and more seem warm at least." He looks back over to Lilith with a warm smile, "More raccoons, and a sister? What a lovely surprise!"

Lilith gives her head somewhat of a tilt and watches Spizzzo and the raccoons. She drops into an open spot across the fire from him, wings buzzing a bit with her motion. "I'm not a farmer I'm a mercenary. Axe for hire. Raccoon slayer." She raises one of the axes with her right hand for emphasis and then puts it away again. His follow-up earns him a more studious and contemplative attention. He could qualify as hot, but she can't determine his age range by looking, and if one person is related to her, then other people could be too. "I mean like sexy. Reasonably attractive." She pulls her knees up against her chest and wraps her arms around them. "Sisters are okay I guess. I've got a shit ton of them but the ones I grew up with were pretty all right."

Spizzzo wipes his hands on his pants, then stirs the new meat into his stew with the long handled spoon he whittled. He grabs another pinch of wild foraged herbs from his pocket and crumbles them into the stew, nodding quietly to himself. "I wasn't aware mercenaries knew so much about soil, then. But I'm sure we'll all be the better for it. Your warrior skills have already rousted a mighty foe from their den, and offered sustenance to the community." He listens curiously while Lilith details the conventions of attractiveness, then shakes his head. "I couldn't say. I think I just don't have a sufficient baseline for comparison. I don't know anyone except the people I've met here, and none of them look very much like me. Not sure we're even the same type of animal."

Lilith looks down at her hands. They're work-roughened from days of well...living in Grimwych, but she stares at them anyway, touching one chipped fingernail on her right hand with her left index finger. Your hands say much about you. Now she stares at hers and absorbs the sensory feeling of one finger touching the other finger and decides to drop the dirt thing entirely. "Well I haven't seen anyone else here with black fairy wings, so that makes two of us." She tilts her head again somewhat, eyes narrowing as she scrutinizes Spizzzo X. "You look pretty normal to me. Elf ancesstry maybe? Part-human?" She shrugs. "But attractiveness isn't really limited to people that look like you. One of my siblings is a minotaur. People like what they like."

Spizzzo chuckles amiably, stirring his stew. He eyes a chunk of raccoon as it bubbles back to the surface, tests it with his spoon, separates some meat from bone, and sends it deeper again to cook some more. He catches Lilith looking at her hands. So much like his good friend Reznor had. Something in their bearing is similar. Something in the stance, maybe. "The body remembers what the mind forgets," Spizzzo echoes idly, offering Reznor's thought to Lilith without attribution. He stirs and looks at his own hands. Uncalloused. Soft. No scars, no ink stains, no clues. His ears twitch at the mention of a minotaur, and he mutters,

"Left your mother a dead-end,

Brought you to the horned, bellowing

Grave of your risen father

And your own corpse in it."

He blinks quietly, and has a sip of stew to bridge the awkward moment. "I like stew," is his final thought on the matter.

Lilith casually stops looking at her hand and slips one of them into her bag for a bit of paper and something to write with. "Good one. Very poetic." She wants to stir that soup, to do something with her hands besides write. Since her choices are limited, she draws one of the axes and runs one of her fingers along the wood grain. It's nothing fancy, but very sharp, always sharp. The best don't use dull weapons. Smaller than the one she'd fished out of the lake, better cared-for too. "Maybe your body remembers what your mind forgets. Maybe the mind misleads." She frowns, peering down at her hands and the axe again, one of two. Two axes. Two children. "Maybe you were a philosopher, or an instructor of some sort. Well-read."

Spizzzo smiles quietly, stirring his stew again and then drawing out a spoonful of broth with a chunk of raccoon. He tastes it carefully, waiting to see if it hits his stomach in any peculiar way. He raises an eyebrow at Lilith's judgment, and smiles again, showing his teeth. "Maybe. Maybe I was a cook. Or maybe I was born fully formed in the lake, knowing what I needed to know to help people." He shrugs back his shoulders, then gestures to some of his firewood, "Do you think you could help split some wood, or are those the wrong axes for the job? I've been using my hands and feet so far. I could keep doing it, but a tool would help."

Lilith looks more apt to eat raccoon stew than rat stew. Perhaps she is just hungry, or raccoons are close enough in taste and texture to rabbits that it's edible. At least there are herbs in it now too. "But something had to make you want to help people. If you just were born in the lake you'd be a blank slate, wouldn't you?" She shrugs uncomfortably. "This axe is for fighting, but I can get other ones." She puts the axe away and holds out her hand, as if to conjure something. There is a flicker of light, and then nothing. Sighing deeply, she conjures one of shadow instead, and stands up. The woodcutting axe is still an axe, but looks different than the limb-cutting axe. "I'd offer it to you, but I can't keep shadows solid for long enough for it to be beneficial."

Spizzzo shrugs. Eventually, all questions in Grimwych seem to lead to this answer. Day by day, perhaps the duration of intermediary answers can be increased before one is eventually, finally, forced to shrug. "I don't know. Would I? It seems self-evident: people in need of help should be helped." He gestures to the stack of roughly worked wood with his spoon. "Well. Maybe split a few while we make sure this raccoon doesn't give me a tummy ache, then help yourself to some stew."

Lilith keeps splitting wood, swinging the shadow axe with practiced ease; it's like breathing. The shadow axe could be fully real, its blade glinting like dark steel, because she can focus her concentration on keeping it solid rather than where it's supposed to swing. "Hey, let me see your hands," she remarks between swings. A shadow man appears and starts stacking the neatly split wood.

Spizzzo raises an eyebrow as he extends his arms, palms up, fingers spread and smiles to Lilith, "Do you intend to cut them off? I'd prefer to keep them."

Lilith laughs. "That'd be a pretty shitty way to repay food sharing, but I appreciate your concern. No, I just want a look."

Spizzzo shows Lilith his hands, which other than some residual mud, and a very recently removed splinter from making firewood, are without blemish or mark.

Lilith pauses long enough to look over Spizzo's hands. "So, you're telling me that you've been breaking wood with your hands for a week and they aren't even scratched. You either heal remarkably quickly or know how to hit things properly so that they break without you injuring yourself."

Spizzzo holds up one finger, incidentally the one with the tiny sliver wound, and smiles, "Or, I am very lucky. And judging by how many good friends I have met so quickly, I would say that evidence supports the finding that I am quite lucky."

Lilith goes back to splitting wood. Swing, swing, swing, each as precise and rhythmic as the last. Those logs are going to look perfect. "Or, you are just very personable, and your body knows how to break things, and together those things have brought you to this point without any otherworldy intervention at all."

Spizzzo stirs the stew pot a little longer, gathering some of the freshly split wood to feed the cook fire, and finally nods. "Another mystery of Grimwych, I suppose. Sit, have some stew. You've done more than enough for one day."

Lilith splits one last log, allows the axe to dissipate and then produces a worn but very clean pair of wooden bowls from her bag. One of them she offers to Spizzzo. "There were some of these in the house I decided was mine. Thought you could use one. I also found what might be wild herbs, but I'm not good enough at foraging to be sure or desperate enough to try them without being sure." Should he ladle some stew into her bowl, she will eat it.

Spizzzo serves Lilith first, making sure to give her a healthy portion of meat and herb. He also holds out his other hand, "I'll chew the herbs for a while. If I don't get sick they're probably fine."

Lilith accepts the bowl and sets it carefully down so that she can pass a bundle of plants to him. The most prominent and obvious of them are dandelion greens, stems and flowers--fully-bloomed flowers both yellow and purple, but none that are about to turn into puffballs. There are some roots too. There is also some of what is obviously by scent to be wild mint. The rest is anyone's guess, but nothing poisonous. "I'm still working on the fishing thing. All I've caught from there so far is that axe." She picks up the bowl and gets her own spoon to stir slowly and eat the contents. Better than last time. Tastes like rabbit.

Spizzzo gnaws on the herbs one by one, petal to root, to get a taste for them, then shoves them in a wad in his cheek to keep chewing on. "An axe is an interesting catch, and a valuable proof of concept. Fish or not, there's something worth fishing for."

Lilith nods quietly. "It's rusted and old and clearly made for larger hands than mine, but still something. Axes tend to lead us in the right direction." She eats a couple more spoonfuls. "So are you here all the time, or are you up for exploring? If you explore, you should come see my house. It's got some weird contraption in the kitchen that I think might be a stove of some kind, but I've never lived in a house and am not fully sure."

Spizzzo nods and smiles, chewing herbs and watching Lilith eat, "I try to get around. I like to keep the fire going, keep the stew hot. You never know when someone might turn up. But I also never know what else there is to see. Who else might need help."

Lilith nods quietly. "Makes sense. Well it's uh..." she thinks and then gives reasonably reliable directions. "Stop by sometime. It's got an overgrown garden that might have useful things inside. You can I have first pic of whatever I don't want in it."

Spizzzo nods to Lilith.

Lilith finishes off her stew, magicks the bowl clean and stands up again "Well I should be getting back before someone decides to break in and steal stuff. If I catch any more raccoons, I'll bring them by."

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