Duarte stands on the table that the couches surround. He has a glass of whiskey in hand. He lifts it and clears his throat. "MAY I CALL THIS TO ORDER, PLEASE?!"

The record needle scratches off the record and everyone that's here that's not a pc who can decide not to gives the count their full attention.

"The question on EVERYONE'S mind these days is 'Do the Gods have hands?'" He drinks from his whiskey and looks about with a sternly raised eyebrow.

"So.... /do/ they?"

He hops off the table and motions toward it for the next brave soul to step upon and orate their opinings.

3 Armed Confessors arrives, following Insaya.

Medeia is /not/ paying attention to Duarte. Pointedly. Instead, the lady is speaking to Tall Guy NPC #2 about the recent birth of his daughter - she was the midwife, it's not weird. But then Duarte asks the most absurd of questions. "Of /course/ they do!" She's insistent. But not getting on the table.

Duarte thrusts an arm straight and points a finger at the table. "/Get/ on the table and /make/ your case!"

"Help me up, then?" Medeia holds her hand out to Duarte. She's not about to /clambor/ up onto a table.

Insaya has no idea what they are talking about when she comes in for something a little spikier than her afternoon customary milk and biscuit. But as people begin to mutter, she gets the gist. With newly wiped boots, she nimbly mounts the bar near the doorway and plucks a glass from the racks for herself. She says, "What would the purpose be for a god to have hands, except to look like *us.* Why would they want to do that? Aren't they supposed to be super-human, by definition? More? A god can move things without physical presence-- they're a god!"

Strutting through the front doors of the Black Fox, Mirari looks like the cat that caught the canary. There's an amused smirk on her lips, and while she's no doubt attuned to the challenging times they face, she still smiles. Not in a sweet pleasant way, just amused with herself. The woman wears a rather ridiculous crown, especially for a commoner, but the woman would probably fight over this matter, given the chance. Still, it's tipped appropriately, so it's not quite perfect. Armed to the teeth, moving easily in a pair of tailored trousers, she stops and lets out a chuckle. "Oh, this was serious. I can never tell, -Duarte-," she says watching as the man helps Medeia up onto a table. Then she glances over at Insaya and nods in agreement, "you see-- that makes sense. Why look like us? We are not the greatest thing ever, despite what we all think."

Duarte upnods to NPC Guy #2. "Have your boyfriend do it." He's holding a whiskey, hello! He's not putting it down.

Duarte considers Insaya and notes, "We do have evidence that at least one ex-God has hands, and hand them when he was a god. And all the aspects I've ever seen /also/ had hands." He peers at Mirari, for the argument goes for her, too.

Medeia rolls her eyes at Duarte and pulls her hand back. "Fine. I'll do it myself." She takes a deep breath and upon release sort of hops up onto the table. It's a floaty sort of hop. Surprisingly agile, this one! There's a moment where she smooths her spidersilk dress and looks around the Fox, considering. But Insaya catches her attention. She /wants/ to smile at the woman, but the Inquisitor's statement causes her brows to furrow. "They have hands!" She clears her throat, tries again more calmly. "The gods /have hands/. People have seen them. I even think I saw Mangata once, and she definitely used hands ro leave something at my uncle's grave."

"/Mag/nata," Duarte corrects pointedly.


*** Mirari has called for an opposing check with Duarte. ***
Mirari checks dexterity and athletics at easy. Mirari is successful.
Duarte checks dexterity and dodge at easy. Duarte is successful.
*** Mirari is the winner. ***

Insaya grins and crosses her arms. "Can you verify that for us, my lord? That what this being was, was really a god and not some other thing? Because otherwise, we have to take your word for it, and you will find it hard to prove anything from a place of personal experience alone." She crouches down to request a beer for herself. "What are the qualities ascribed to a god?" She asks this generally, and counts points off on her hand, little finger first. "They must have a form of omniscience, able to know things of such massive scope no other mind could contain, or so secret that no other being could know. They must be omnipotent, able to perform actions of such power that no other being can do them, that include the inspiration of otherbeings or creating outright. They must be eternal, unchanging from the beginning of knowledge to the end of it, and omnipresent-- must be more places than one at the same time. To meet those requirements, you cannot have a permanent physical form, and thus, no hands. You can look like you have hands without actually having them. You can look anyway you want to try and help humans understand what they are seeing."

"How do we know that the Gods are showing us, how they want us to see them? They've a sense of humour, you know," Mirari points out. Then she looks over at someone's table, specifically at their bread basket, and she looks at the kind Lenosian gentleman. "Mind if I borrow this?," she asks him and of course, he would say yes. He is probably clever enough to know what she is plotting. Mirari doesn't care, because soon enough, she has the basket in her hands, she is picking up a very innocent bread roll. Is she going to have a snack? Probably not, rather she just out of no where, lops it towards Duarte, aiming for his head, because it's bread and its soft.

"Magnotta is a Malvici vassal." Medeia replies to Duarte, as a bread roll hits him in the head.

"Such specious and spurious drivel," Duarte intones at Insaya. "Why, If I didn't know better, I would say you---oof!" A bun smacks Duarte in the face and he snaps his head to peer around with a 'who did that!?' look.

When Duarte wants to know who threw the bread roll at him, Mirari raises a hand and looks at him. "I did, Duarte. It was me. Mirari Corsetina. If you don't like it, you can fight me." A smirk forms on her lips, delighted with herself.

"Master Mirari!" Medeia actually seems delighted to see the other woman, allowing some of her annoyance to melt away. "Wonderful aim! How are you?" Then she's looking over at Insaya, studying the woman. Her lips press thin. "If a beingbis capable of creating the ilusion of hands which operate as hands, or of modifying their form to have hands as they please, how is that fundamentally different from having hands?"

Insaya drinks from her tankard. "Such wild and, dare I use the word, heretical assertions, my lord," says the pee-wee Oathlands Inquisitor. "You've got some bollocks on you, to strip godhood from a god, and call my arguments falsetious. Fellatio, I call your blasphemies." She grins toward Lady Medeia, giving her a finger wave. "All the difference in the world, my lady! An octopus has eight tentacles that can be used as hands, but who would correct you to say they ARE hands? If we are to argue semantics, every peg-legged sailor can say he has two feet, then, and every eunuch in Eurus that he is just as much a man as he used to be."


*** Duarte has called for an opposing check with Insaya. ***
Duarte checks dexterity and athletics at easy. Duarte is successful.
Insaya checks dexterity and dodge at easy. Insaya is successful.
*** Insaya is the winner. ***

Duarte gasps at such LANGUAGE from a sinful Oathlander in these - these hallowed halls of Lycene righteousness!!! He kneels and takes unto him the bread and lobs it at her - too slow and easily dodged. "We /know/ the Queen of Endings has at least a basket of skeletal hands - and ergo, HAS hands. And I saw Skald use hands to duel Aleksei with my /own/ eyes."


*** Mirari has called for an opposing check with Duarte. ***
Mirari checks dexterity and athletics at easy. Mirari is successful.
Duarte checks dexterity and dodge at easy. Duarte is successful.
*** Mirari is the winner. ***

A hand lifts, and waves at Medeia, "oh hello, Lady Medeia," she says before she turns to listen to Insaya. Mirari nods along with the other commoner, seeming to have teamed up with her at least for this round, for no apparent reason, but really, she's just forming a team against Duarte. Which means, when Duarte unsuccessfully throws the bread roll at Insaya, Mirari uses that opportunity to throw another one at Duarte. This one has seeds in it. Because it was a bread basket, not just one piece. Mirari has enough to go for awhile, this doesn't cease to amuse her. "You clearly need more hands, Count."

"Well, of course tentacles are /not/ hands!" Medeia throws her own up in exasperation. "This isn't /about/ tentacles!" She's completely forgotten why she is standing on a table. Her gaze looks down at it in confusion. Then, Duarte mentions the Queen of Endings, and she brightens. "Ah! Yes, see? Death has hands! She uses a spinning wheel! You have to have hands to use a spinning wheel."

Insaya snatches the bread roll out of the air, and takes a bite. Needs butter and salt. But she's hungry as well as thirsty. She chews, and washes it down. Nomnomnom. Never pass on the chance to eat, to sleep, or uh... some other things. "No. You know that the Queen of Endings has shown you that aspect. She has shown you a symbol of creation that you understand. And your eyes could be deceiving you, couldn't they? Consequently, you spend an awful lot of time hallucinating gods. Should I call someone for you? Seems like a chronic thing..." Insaya passes Mirari a mug of beer along the bar, which she is still standing on, and winks. To Medeia, she says, "My lady, I was raised by a shepherd. *I* can operate a spinning wheel, or even a drop spindle without hands."

Duarte oofs! again as he is assaulted by yet another baked good! He glares at Mirari and picks it up. "Why you..." and he holds it in the air as he goes to run after her, yelling, "...I have /plenty/ of hands! The correct number of them!!!"


*** Duarte has called for an opposing check with Mirari. ***
Duarte checks dexterity and brawl at easy. Duarte marginally fails.
Mirari checks dexterity and brawl at easy. Mirari is successful.
*** Mirari is the winner. ***


*** Insaya has called for an opposing check with Duarte. ***
Insaya checks dexterity and small wpn at easy. Insaya is successful.
Duarte checks dexterity and dodge at easy. Botch! Duarte fails badly.
*** Insaya is the winner. ***

"I have to agree with Insaya, we see what we want to see, we see things that make sense to us. Our minds will always try to rationalize things based on...," she dodges so easily out of the way, it's almost like she was never standing there in the first place. "Be careful Duarte," she warns him with a glimmer in her eyes. Then she returns to her previous thought, "based on our own experiences. That's what the mind does," she isn't sure, there are scholars for this.

Carefully, Medeia hops down off the table. She's trying to avoid the Bread Situation. And now she's waffling, finding herself - perhaps - aligned with Duarte. "Why would he be hallucinating gods? We know that they are real! As real as we are!" Maaaybe not the most convincing argument.

Insaya fishes a nut from the bowl on the bar to shoot off her thumb, marble style, right at the space between Count Amadeo's eyes as he advances on Mirari and she gets clear. "Hsst. Use your words, Lord Stabbikins. Hands to yourself!" To Medeia she says, "Of course the Gods are real, Lady Saik. As real as anything else within a Dream we are constantly altering can be. But I dispute that what we SEE, what we are SHOWN by beings of significantly more control than we have is always the truth, or the whole of it."

Duarte leaps after Mirari! And mid-air gets a nut right in his gods-damn eye! Ouch! He falls to the floor cartoonishly without completing his trajectory and cradles his face in his hands. "This was a bad muther fucking idea..." he mumbles to himself before getting up with a little bounce. Aha! He slicks his hair and plays it off like nothing happened.

But he has trapped Insaya and he points! "Heresy! The Gods are not /beings/. They are /allegorical concepts." He takes a deep breath, "Allegorical concepts /with/ /hands/!" He motions around with his hands as if this is self evident in the world around them.

"This was your bad mutherfucking idea," Mirari points out to Duarte, she holds up a bread roll and waves it, but doesn't throw it, JUST YET.

Insaya sits on the bar top now, enjoying her beverage. "Sophistry and blasphemy! Both at the same time! Well done! I didn't think you were going to live up to your atheological reputation... except about the clothes. But you cannot have it both ways, surely," she presses, before downing another bite of bread. Chew chew chew. Gulp. "Saying gods are *not* beings comes perilously close to denying their existence or agency. And MERELY concepts don't have -hands.- Your telling me from one side of your face that an allegorical concept fences, and weaves, and carries a basket, but on the other you are saying they have no substance. So which is it?"

Medeia takes several steps back, even as she does give Duarte a concerned look for his eye. Her arms cross over her chest. From her distant but not entirely disengaged position, she listens to the others in silence.

"If /you/ have not opened your mind with BaNana leaf, then it is your own folly for the limitations of your perspective!" Duarte claps back at Insaya. He shakes his head defiantly, "No. I am telling you with my WHOLE face!" He pokes his sternum, "My assertion is in line with accepted dogma and theological doctrine of the Faith of the Pantheon - the Gods are /allegorical/. And, we know those who are God Touched! How can you be TOUCHED without HANDS? Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm?" He shoves his fists to his hips.

Shows no concern, but such is the way of things, rather Mirari just watches with amusement, thanking Insays for the beer, and taking a sip.

Duarte checks intellect and theology at daunting. Duarte fails.

Duarte argument is a stretch and a half.

Duarte says, "Do the Gods just go around grazing their foreheads against those they like most, hmmm?"

Medeia moves a few steps closer to Duarte and taps her foot against his leg.

"Why not? It works for you," Medeia adds, about grazing foreheads.

Insaya struggles not to spit beer out her nose while Medeia nudges him. "Your contraband use not being germane... I can't say that I have ever understood Death to have head-butted me. But your party games are not nearly as fun as ours were back on the farm if I really have to explain that, my lord."

Duarte holds up a hand and, respect... "No, no... what happens on the farm, stays on the farm." He gives a solemn nod.

The Medeia taps him with her foot and he ohs! And looks at Insaya, "If we can both agree the Gods have /feet/, then I am willing to reconsider the /hands/ and we can bring this matter to a pause."

"No," Medeia decides arbitrarily but entirely vehemently. "We can not agree that they have feet. Why would they need to walk? Surely they are above such things if some lowly human like me is?"

"Woah, wait. They have hands but not feet? I call poppy-cock!," Mirari shouts from the peanut gallery.

"Or..." Insaya suggests over the rim of her drink, "-you could both capitulate. Admit that my arguments are compelling. Just a suggestion..." Insaya says. The last time she was invited to participate in a debate, all the mirrors in the Shrine of the Thirteenth shattered.

Duarte hangs his head... So close to amicable closure. But then /Medeia/ had to /ruin/ it. And Insaya is /stubborn/.

He sighs and steps back. He looks up to the ceiling and pretends it's Elysia. "We shall find no accord here, alas..."

He sucks in a deep breath and begins to lecture to Mirari, "We know they have feet because......."