Настучать в бубен / Hit the tambourine: Омак_1: Несбывшееся: «Коварная Степнячка»

The Unfulfilled: "The Insidious Steppe Woman"

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 15:58

* * *

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 15:58

Abstract: Demons are known throughout the worlds as creatures who can easily corrupt any friendship, tarnish any feelings, and bring discord and strife into the most sincere devotion. This is their strength, their greatest filth, and no one can take it away or dispute it. However, sometimes it turns out that the cunning, meanness, treachery, and filth of demons prove too much even for themselves.
* * *

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 15:59

Singha, daughter of Maega, daughter of Maedra, and beloved daughter of her father, the venerable Urvag de Lomer, was in such a wonderful mood that she almost envied herself. Why shouldn't she be, if everything she desired had already been hers, and not without her honest labor? She sometimes couldn't believe how many times everything had hung by a thread when Pann and her parents discussed their future union. They thought too differently, Pann's essence was too different — a visitor from another world, bearing with him the power of the Tablet of the Soul and the blessing of his Patroness, the infinitely powerful Khao-Yanash-Mal. And yet, she, they all, had managed, had managed to understand each other, and hadn't devolved the negotiations into a fruitless squabble.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 17:27

And now she can not hide her new skills from her mom. She can not hide them, but she can be happy about them, show off the new powers given to her by the Tablet, the new khaos that has become more loyal to her than a tamed flock or a broken-in stallion, new ways to become even more powerful, even greater than she was before. Stronger than she ever dared to dream. Stronger than all her ancestors combined. Stronger than dozens of generations of grandmothers, mothers, and daughters who, generation after generation, gave the sky and the earth new khao-seahar, each of whom had more talent than the previous one. And there she could already see ways and means to share this gift with her mother, so that Pann would open the Tablet for her too. And then... then all the heavens and the earth, all the chaos and their places of habitation would belong to them.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 17:30

All three of them.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 17:30

Thoughts about how blind Pann sometimes was, despite his ability to see into the minds and passions of humans and non-humans, sometimes made Singh bend over with laughter. And sometimes it made her burn with anger, yes. However, they had a lot of time ahead of them, and she was sure that there would be time to explain, understand their feelings, and decide whether there was a place for them. Both he and she had to decide. She knew one thing for sure — whatever would be Pann's decision, for her, he would always be the one who saved her life and more, who did not turn away and helped, even at the risk of his own life.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 17:35

Will he not accept her feelings that are deeper than just friendship? Well, so be it. Friendship will not disappear because of this. Singh is not like the pampered bitches of stone cities or the equally pampered fools from the rich tents of the khan's nökers. She will not allow silly girlish emotions to get the better of someone who understands the khao-lanaar, who visits her khao day after day, year after year. Without the ability to understand one's own emotions, one's most secret feelings, to accept them and let them go, one cannot become a good chao-seahar, although some try, sometimes with success.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 17:38

Be that as it may, the daughter of the steppes was in no hurry to upset the fragile balance that had been established. She preferred to seize moments of joy wherever she could find them. For example, she went for a walk around the city, strolled through the markets of Morgrave, looking for something interesting among the merchants selling curiosities, among the weavers' stalls, and in the storerooms of jewelers who had brought new goods from the distant Caliphate. The girl was in a good mood, simply wonderful, and even the awkwardness of Pann, fulfilling the will and task of his chao-yanash-mal, being forced to pretend to be part of her human entourage, a simple servant... though not quite so simple, of course, had already smoothed over. Anyway, he was not with her now; he was calling out to the mighty chao-aiwat in his underground stronghold, below.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 17:41

But if he were here, he might be able to change something, even fix it. For example, he would have a small, even tiny, but still existing chance of noticing a figure flashing by in the crowd. To notice her, to see her carefully smoothed and disguised aura, but at the same time her recognizable facial features. To recognize the townswoman who flashed by in the parallel row, bargaining for something with some successful shopkeeper. A townswoman who simply glanced at Singha with a lazy and slightly malicious look, and then went on her way. She did not attack, she did not curse, she did not do anything particularly noticeable, she just glanced at the heiress de Lomer.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 17:43

The heiress, who had just picked out a beautiful bracelet made of intricately woven gold threads, could not notice anything. She could not realize that a line had just flashed across her Soul Tablet, invisible to her, Pann, or anyone else, stating the simplest truth.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 17:44

Meta-impact effect applied: "Temptress's Vileness" (hidden from awareness)

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 17:45

Singha simply continued her promenade, genuinely enjoying a good day in a series of good days.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 17:45

* * *

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 17:46

Singha, being the daughter not only of her mother but also of her father, had long been accustomed to the fact that another conversation with her friends could easily turn into an attempt to find out about the inner workings of the de Lomer household through her. In fact, many of her friends ceased to be friends and became “friends” after trying to pull something like that off. She couldn't break off relations with them, could she? She couldn't cause a scandal. They, too, were daughters of respected fathers or even mothers, and she couldn't just send them away to the most vile khao-tkhash, either literally or even just verbally. In general, she had to pretend, not too insincerely, that communicating with them was still pleasant. In many ways, it remained so; after all, it is somehow easier to talk to educated and knowledgeable young ladies of similar status who know a lot of gossip.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 19:48

But still, these moments annoyed her, especially now that Angelica de Valles, a short, petite curly-haired brunette, who even now did not take off her decorative “academic” glasses, which the youth of Neшrat loved to wear, was trying for the umpteenth time during this outing to get her to talk about whether her mother was expecting another child. Singha was usually much more tolerant of this, but now she simply decided that she had had enough. She made up her mind and began to follow her plan instantly, as if on impulse, as if khao in her ears was whispering to her, a very amusing idea.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 19:50

"Hai-hai, I understand, sometimes it's hard, really hard." She looks into Angelica's soul with her intuition, into her khao-ala-tar, catches the slightest fluctuations in it, and then begins to adjust herself to her, changing her tone, body position, and breathing rate. All these thoughts, all these plans. Our parents, our friends. We think about it ourselves, and sometimes it's so hard. I get so tired that sometimes I just want to..."

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 20:10

Singha habitually cuts off her sentences. But now she only does so when she sees the reaction of her “friend,” who is listening to her intently, holding her breath. It seems to her that Singha is about to talk about a topic that is so interesting to the de Vales family, and not only to them. It seems that Singha has relaxed; that she has allowed herself a moment of weakness. And now is the time to take advantage of this weakness, to utilize the insolent girl to open up. The steppe girl only smiles mentally, continuing to talk to the girl who nods and agrees with her, who herself does not notice that she is too lost in her own thoughts, too relaxed, listening too intently to what she is being told, no longer noticing that Singha is not talking entirely about herself. Angelica involuntarily falls into a stupor and, in that stupor, applies what has been said to herself.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 20:13

"...you're smart, and that's always hard. I, for example, am not very smart myself. Not very smart, mostly stupid. But it's easier. Smart people think, and it's hard for smart people, but not for me." They are riding in a closed carriage, where there is only room for the two of them, gossiping girlfriends, while the retinue remains outside. "With smart people, there is more to be expected, more to answer for. More. It's harder. Always harder..."

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 20:16

Simultaneously with her words, Singha, with targeted effects of her own gift and the minor лhao she summoned, blocked the sounds of their conversation, distorted perspective, and the amulets of Angelique and her retinue. Her own, too, discreetly ensuring that no one would disturb them now, interrupting her speech and Angelique's answers. Angelique was a truly intelligent girl. She was so intelligent that it was precisely this that had once allowed them to become friends before she turned their friendship into "friendship." The young shaman found it more pleasant to talk with someone who knew the difference between High Magic and Invocations of the Khao, who, instead of recounting gossip about new dresses and lovers in high society, read the classic works of the academics of Neirat.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 20:22

And now Singhf, with a pleasure that surprised even herself, was turning the undoubtedly intelligent young girl, who in her clear mind was even smarter than Singha, who, next to Angelica, felt like a simple-minded savage from the steppes, into a sweet and very smiling fool. Nothing really complicated or noticeable, no direct magic, just mirroring her kha-laat and tiny pricks into her isubtle body, so weak that no amulet would perceive them as a threat. Singha simply made her “friend” believe that it was easier, more pleasant, and more joyful to be stupid, that she herself would like to be stupid, but she was already a stupid steppe girl. She couldn't become any stupider.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 20:25

But the intelligent and capable Angelica, who always considered herself better than Singha, even if she didn't show it, always considering herself smarter, will easily surpass her here and leave her behind. She will become so stupid that she will put Singha to shame. She will become stupid because she is very intelligent. The shaman's abrupt speech coincides with her gestures, with her touches to the hand and shoulders of her “friend,” who has already rolled her eyes openly and is immersed in her own thoughts. She thinks hard about how to become stupid, even more stupid than Singha, because only stupid people are happy, only they are pleasant, only they are joyful.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 20:31

It turned out to be easy to link her words to tender and intimate memories. To connect one thing with another. To make Angelica perceive her own stupidity as if it were the embrace of a lover or her own touch, the help of her beloved lady savior from black wood. Angelica smiles, one hand tucked under her dress, the other held in front of her face, holding and swaying after Singha, who sways her hand in front of her face. Trying not to smile too obviously with the evil and triumphant smile of someone who will now remind her “friend” of everything.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 20:33

"I always watch. With my eyes. With my thoughts. With my mind." She says, waving her hand in front of her face and seeing Angelica repeat her gesture, almost not watching the steppe girl anymore, rolling her eyes in pure pleasure. "And I'm stupid because I can. Because I want to. Because it's good. Stupid is good. Smart is bad. Stupid is good. Smart is boring. Stupid is good. Smart..."

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 20:35

"...stupid, smart – stupid, smart – bored, smart – ba-a-a-a-d!" Sinha barely had time to turn up the sound cutoff and order a couple of hao to remove traces and scents of a woman's body from the inside of the carriage. "I'm smarter than you! I'm stupider than you! You're smart and therefore stupid! Stu-u-u-u-u-u-pid!

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 21:14

The double ecstasy finally shut down Angelica's thoughts, allowing Singha's words to replace them, because a mind so consumed by passion, no matter how sharp it might be, could not appreciate what was being said. And she didn't want to, because she had directed her entire mind toward becoming as stupid as possible. Singha had no doubt that if she were given a little more time, she would turn Angelica not even into a stupid girl, but into an irrational animal, if not a tree that could not walk any other way than under itself. Some part of her even wanted this, wanted to completely break her interlocutor's mind without magic, only with the word of her own gift, nothing more.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 21:19

But she didn't dislike her “friend” that much; she was more afraid of leaving too obvious traces, preferring to take a couple of steps back. To convince her mind, freshly sprinkled with juices and honey, which had escaped to her lower lips, that it needed to pretend, to hide, to conceal the foolishness to which the mind so aspired. So that sweet Angelica would say goodbye to Singha and go about her business, unaware of anything. So that she would become stupid gradually, day after day, imperceptibly to herself, little by little, without even realizing why it was difficult for her to think, boring to read her favorite treatises, more difficult to remember new things or recall old ones, to say clever words.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 21:24

But her mind, her powerful and remarkable mind, will know, even if Angelica does not, how good and desirable it is for her to be stupid. It will know and reward her for every awkward moment, for every time she makes a fool of herself, forgets a word, cannot read a sentence, writes a note with childish mistakes. Like fingers on nipples, like a tongue on lower lips, like the firmness of a lady savior in the womb, like oiled fingers in the ass — every time, even without her awareness. And she herself will not understand at what moment she will happily plunge into her stupidity, pouring herself out and enjoying the fact that she is stupid, that others consider her to be so. Because deep down, deep inside herself, she will continue to know, continue to understand — that it is she...

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 21:26

" ...the smartest, the smartest, because I want to become stupid myseeeeeeelf!!!" Angelica squeals, smearing honey on her clothes and underwear, holding Singha tightly by both hands, soaring into the heavens without even touching herself, only realising the brilliant mind that made her a silly fool. "Ha-ha-ha... I'm smart. I'm silly. I'm smart. I'm a mouse. Am I smart? Me? M? Oh, Singha, my sister, we've been talking so much that I might be late for dinner!"

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 21:28

"Of course, my friend." Singha smiles at her, his most welcoming smile. "I won’t keep you away. From your favorite books."

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 21:29

Angelica did not notice how she straightened her dress, put her underwear back in place, and dried herself with her handkerchief, putting herself completely in order. Her mind was now Singha's main ally, for he knew for sure that only thanks to her would it be possible to become foolish, to make the owner of the mind a silly girl. They parted in high spirits, and Singha barely restrained herself from helping herself with her fingers in the same carriage. She deeply regretted that she had had enough time to convince her “friend” in the carriage, but not enough time for her to thank her foolish steppe friend for her clever advice with her excessively sharp tongue.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 21:33

What injustice!

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 20:35

But this day couldn’t have been completely perfect in every way?

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 20:35

* * *

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 17:46

Having escaped from his stronghold, Pann was incredibly pleased. He had been officially “sick” for two and a half days, but unofficially, he had caught some kind of unpleasant curse due to his “secret” status as a possible suitor for Ms. Singh. He was so pleased and happy that the girl couldn't help but feel a kind of envy, not black, but not the easiest either. The double call of the powerful khaos connected, whom he called elders and she called khao-sedarat, was successful, as was the closed task of his Tablets, which also surely rewarded the already gifted young man.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 21:38

Singha couldn't help but feel envious. She had no way of receiving such assignments at the moment. Singha was jealous, Singha was a little angry, and so Singha decided to remember the days of their nightmarish adventure in the depths of the cursed, worm-eaten jungle, stepping on Pann's overly satisfied, smug face with her feet. Simply because she could, she wanted to, and she saw no reason to refuse her planned little joke at the expense of dear Pann.

Camrad_RIP 27.11.25 в 21:43

"It's very tedious, very tedious. I repeat it and will repeat it again. These are some kind of nervous tics from the spirit world, damn it! Both sides already understood that there would be a deal, that it was unavoidable, that it was beneficial to everyone, that everyone would agree, but they still fought over every little thing on purpose, like natural disasters." Singha, for whom such khaos with so little preparation still seemed like an unreal sacrilege against the ancestral art, and not just a “tedious” task, only snorted at such a passage. "Yes, yes, I understand your unspoken words, but, bitch, I'm still angry. Like three hundred vicious bottom-dwelling catfish, damn it! My migraine hasn't completely gone away yet, and the trash really pissed me off with its duplicated images, always different, but always almost the same. Like an echo in my ear, only outside my ear!"

Camrad_RIP 28.11.25 в 11:45

Such an echo would drive someone else mad or simply kill them with a collapse of their essence, when khao-taat devours itself in an attempt not to accept foreign images. But it just gives him a slight headache! Singha didn't even bother to get upset anymore. She was too used to how different her and Panno's scales of simple and complex were. And she herself began to get used to this attitude. Her boundaries on this scale are also becoming more blurred with each passing day. With each line and stroke in the Tablet open to her, it became more blurred.

Camrad_RIP 28.11.25 в 12:30

"I think I understand. I experienced something similar myself. When I called some khaos. Or back then, when the paths of khaos carried us away. From Dantmark." He even looked at her in surprise, distracted from his swearing, which was what Singha had been aiming for, already tuning in to her interlocutor in the same way as she had with Angelica, or later with the overly modest Rayva, or with that boy, Tumar, the son of Arbesh-Shar, a merchant of Caliphate jewelry, whom she had convinced that he now adored flat girlish breasts and no longer loved to chew on huge udders. "Like back then, when that scaly trash enchanted me. She ensnared my will."

Camrad_RIP 28.11.25 в 12:33

In response, she receives a puzzled look and considerable interest, which makes Singha inwardly triumphant, having successfully introduced the topic she wanted to discuss. Sighing wearily, she began to explain, gesturing wildly and arguing with Pann, breathing in unison with him, thinking in the same vein, arguing and exchanging arguments. Her friend and savior was a wonderful conversationalist for her, always trying to convey his thoughts and understand hers. She sincerely enjoyed talking to him about her family's craft. But right now, it was his manner of understanding, of trying to comprehend what his interlocutor was saying, that gave her not just a path, but a straight, paved road to his heart.

Camrad_RIP 28.11.25 в 12:35

"...and I felt like I was myself. And not myself at the same time. I needed to show you my legs. Show you my feet. I had to do it. So you would kiss them. And break the line." She says she's even a little embarrassed about how they roped her in back then, like a wild mare, but behind that embarrassment, it's so easy to hide the excitement and thrill. Only these thoughts. Only my feet. Only you. Only me. Only feet...

Camrad_RIP 28.11.25 в 13:02

She does nothing dangerous or even openly magical; those shadows cast by her influence, direct contact between invisible bodies, chaos within chaos, could not be considered a threat even to a tribal fortune teller, who is only good for casting spells on barley and checking horses' teeth. Pann could have cast off the entire web of her words, not even with the power of his gift or will, but with a single thought and conscious desire. Singha, however, trivially did not give him the chance to think this thought, did not allow him to realize or desire it. And the mighty khao-seran sank deeper and deeper into the swamp of her speech, into the web of words and movements, simply having no chance to object or resist her.

Camrad_RIP 28.11.25 в 13:06

Thoughts clung to thoughts, words to words, ideas to ideas; they argued about the call of khaos, about the difference in perception of such things, or so it seemed from the outside. But Singha, laughing insidiously inside, did not allow the topic of conversation to stray too far, repeatedly returning to examples and references to how her feet touched Pann's face under the influence of that distortion called a token, bestowed by the almighty Tablet and personally by khao-yanash-mal. And the mighty, so strong, so dangerous Pann did not notice this, could no longer notice it, had already succumbed, and the girl only prolonged the pleasure.

Camrad_RIP 28.11.25 в 13:08

At some point, her feet ended up on the table, her bare feet catching the shaman's gaze, because the conversation was about them, about how she thought about her feet back then and how she now made him think about them. Step by step, each individual action seemed logical and understandable to Pannu, coming from himself and his ideas. She moves her toes, luring him with the rhythm of her movements. She lifts her foot slightly, giving him a better view, and he touches it, beginning to gently stroke and then massage her skin. Because it seemed polite and right to him. They talk about feet. Singha shows him her feet. He touches them, so why not give her a little massage, soothe the buzzing in her legs.

Camrad_RIP 28.11.25 в 13:11

The shaman almost moans with pleasure—Pann's fingers are truly magical. He knows how to use them to give pleasure, and she realizes with surprise that she could easily melt away from such caresses and only from them. And she vengefully continues to torment her now calm, submissive, and obedient mind, moving her feet in a seductive, yielding rhythm. She strokes his foot with her feet, moves her fingers, and then waves them in front of Panna's face, who is absentmindedly listing the offerings for the next planned call, not noticing that he is leaning lower and lower toward her foot.

Camrad_RIP 28.11.25 в 11:40

Singha consciously repeats with him what she once did against his will under the spell of the snake's eyes, only now without the help of the khao-yanash-mal token, relying solely on her own strength, her own words, movements, and desires. She has immense respect for Pann, values their strange friendship, remembers his kindness, and feels sincere and deep sympathy for him. But she also remembers every insult, every harsh word, and every unpleasant attitude he has shown her, for which she now intends to take revenge on Panna, to take revenge in a way that will be pleasant for her.

Camrad_RIP 28.11.25 в 11:35

"The best feet, steppe feet, sweet feet, tender feet..." Pann, listing the virtues of her feet, covers her skin with kisses and already believes everything she says. "Yes, yes, yes, I remember, I will, I remember, for the sake of your feet, Singha."

Camrad_RIP 28.11.25 в 11:35

"Then wake up, Pann. You've been deep in thought." She removes her feet from his face, enjoying the stupid expression on his face as he comes to his senses. "Are you okay?"

Camrad_RIP 28.11.25 в 11:26

"Everything is good, Singha-searan." He replied politely and obsequiously, as befits a simple khanur servant, almost falling off his feet and kneeling, bowing his head so that she could place her feet on the back of his head. "Your khanur-yalom is ready to serve."

Camrad_RIP 28.11.25 в 11:17

He is truly ready. He is not playing games. He has convinced himself that this is the right thing to do, that this way he will be able to apologize for his words to her, that this will be the easiest way to enter her family and take his rightful place in the world. It is easiest to touch and caress her feet, for which he is willing to do anything. Even if he starts to test himself for suggestions, call back the khaos he released at her request, they will find nothing. She did not bewitch him in the full sense of the word. There is no lasso of hers in his essence; he simply believes in what she gave him, believes himself, with all his khao-taans.

Camrad_RIP 28.11.25 в 11:25