Purity is such a boring flavour.
Oh, nothing to be said against it, not really. It's a simple taste, sweet for certain, perfectly palatable. It can make a fine meal, a comfortable and easy dish, there's nothing wrong with something bland every now and then.
But it's hardly the high-class delicacy that so many would lead you to believe. The ingredients are terribly commonplace. Humans are all born pure, after all, and retaining that purity requires no particularly extraordinary circumstances. You could pluck an average person off the street, and there's a good chance you'll be able to taste it. And the younger you go, the higher the likelihood. Most children are quite pure.
Most.
Personally, I got over the fuss a long time ago. You'll certainly meet some types that swear by it- 'the perfect moment is swallowing the heart of a child who has never known true suffering,', 'there's nothing sweeter than the insides of an untouched virgin', 'a mind unriddled with the black spots of thought is more delicious than any other.' Etc. Etc.
It's a pretty cheesy aesthetic. Exactly what some humans used to go on about, the religious types, yes? A perfect copy of their image of us. I don't understand why anyone would want to present themself us such- why try to follow such basic human trends? After all, most humans have terrible taste!
Most.
Yet you get them all the time, young and old. I'm not sure which is worse, the older ones because they're stuck like that, or the younger ones because they think the trend they're following is in style. It's really not. Pathetic, the whole lot.
A girl with eyes like the surface of a pond, and blonde hair so long and fair it could be strands of gold, creamy skin that blushes and fluttering pink lips. The kind of girl that has never thought of anything, her entire life spent between silk sheets and flowing gowns, holding plush toys to her chest and strawberries to her lips, the kind that no one has ever touched but you. Isn't that the perfect prize? To steal such a flawless light, to take it and make it your own, to be the only one to see that smooth white slate burnt dark and broken into nothing. The ultimate pleasure, no doubt, that's what they think.
As for me? Don't be ridiculous. There's no value in that.
Tabula rasa comes a dime a dozen. You might have to dig around a little for one grown under such particular circumstances- you know, the pearls and glass slippers and whatnot- but such things require almost no effort. They're very easy.
A girl like that- or a boy, or a woman, or a man, the difference is negligible in my experience- doesn't ask very much. In fact, she doesn't understand very much. What will she do before you have her? Cry and blush and stutter, all the regular things. 'Save my family from those criminals (though I understand not why they pursue us)', 'have someone fall in love with me (though I understand not what love is)', 'heal this one injustice, and nothing else (though I understand not what injustice is).'
Those types of requests.
She'll never make any interesting demands, and she'll certainly never challenge you. That's why those types like her so much, you know? She doesn't require any work. They're all lazy and worthless, even if they like to pretend otherwise. They don't want to do anything that requires any effort, and still they want to be fed for it- a little like most humans, wouldn't you say?
Again, only most.
In fact, I would go so far as to say that what is called 'pure' could also be easily described as 'stupid'. Lack of experience is what creates purity, really, and what is that if not simply a lack of seasoning? Why drool for a dish that's been cooked at only one temperature, with very few ingredients? I swear, it amazes me sometimes, and I am rarely amazed by anything. How poor such tastes are.
But then, they say the same things about me.
Adventurousness, they say, that dirties the soul! Worldly experience corrupts, like silver cutlery used for too long without polishing. Those who have seen too much, who know too much, there is no satisfaction in swallowing such strong flavours.
What about intelligence? No, no, that complicates the taste too much, a meal that brings on such stress and foreign experience is not worth any effort at all.
Ambition? Makes the dish too heavy, drags it down with all those aspirations thrown into the mix.
And what about...evil?
Yes, that's the point when they just stop and stare at me like I'm a complete buffoon. It's funny, I guess. Never in their wildest dreams would they think of consuming something as wicked as they are. In fact, even the thought seems to put some of them off! Like I proposed to a gentlewoman that her dinner is to consist of rat's meat.
And a combination of these things is simply unthinkable. A human who is intelligent, ambitious, worldly and evil? A gutter meal. And people like that, they say, would surely make such high demands, there's no fun in eating if you have to suffer for it.
I would beg to differ- of course, the types I'm talking about consider any kind of work to be too much work, but even then you know, most humans don't ask for very much. You'd think they would, given the scope of what was available to them! But in the end, such creatures aren't very imaginative. They're too caught up in their own perceptions of things to try and think differently, to come up with novel solutions to problems. What do men want? Money and power. What do women want? Beauty and fame. All in the immediate sense, of course. How many times have I accepted such simple singular requests, for a thousand pounds of gold or a face to rival all others? Too many to count, I couldn't tell you! Every time someone asks to be king of a country, I think, why did you not ask to be king of the world? Owner of the universe? Did you think I was incapable of making you such? Or did you not even consider the option, because the scope of your mind was too tiny to even imagine it?
Do you understand what I'm saying? Most humans are boring creatures with boring desires, and brains too small to devise anything that would be a real challenge.
Most humans, anyway.
...what was I talking about again?
Oh, yes.
We really have it too easy, not that you'd know that with the way some go on complaining. Since humans make such simple requests, and are so easy to seduce. Being hungry is never a problem when there's so many easy dishes just lying around, oh, I've met more than my fair share of ridiculous gluttons that do nothing but consume. If you have no sense of quality and no desire for any kind of engagement, then life can be very straightforward as...one of my kind.
But personally, I like a bit of a challenge.
It's no fun to take the easy way out. Granting average and subpar wishes is a dreadful bore. And fast food- whether it's supposed to be 'pure' or otherwise- makes me ill after a while, it's bland and greasy and sticks to the gut. I like food with a little more flavour, a bit of spice. Those ingredients I mentioned to you earlier, those are my absolute favourites. Though it is rare to find something that has them all in abundance- most humans are simple creatures, with only one face to show the world. Even the nicer ones tend to come with only one or two flavours.
But 'most humans' is not 'all humans', you know?
And I am a firm believer in the stress/relief theory of indulgence. Do you know what I mean? No? I will explain it then, perhaps.
Don't you think that a warm cup of cocoa is most delicious if it is consumed after a brisk walk on a cold winter's day? What about a heavy stew after many hours of hard physical labour? These things are fine on their own, but they are better if they come after a period of effort, or discomfort, a 'stress'. In a world of nothing but pleasure, pleasures lose their value very quickly. Light is brighter when contrasted with something dark. Good things become better when you have to work for them.
Oh, that look you're giving me now! It's very much like those others I was talking about, that's exactly the kind of face they give me! Like I am entirely insane for thinking such things. But it doesn't really matter to me what they think, or what they say when I'm not around. I can almost hear it now- 'that crazy guy, can you believe what he's gotten himself into now? I heard he's made himself into a dog, slavish in the service of a doll. Playing house for a meal that no one else would touch with a ten foot pole, something that stinks of corruption from miles away!'
I'll bet it's something like that.
Don't be offended. I'd take it as a compliment, if I were you. If I may be so presumptuous as to say, I think you rather despise the kind of people they enjoy the most. And I think you smell delicious.
…
My apologies for that statement.
So, as I was saying...in short, a meal is most delicious with certain ingredients, and even more delicious when taken after a period of hard work.
"Hard work?"
Yes, that's what I was going on about. I don't know why I wanted to tell you this so suddenly, I think it just came upon me, a fancy of sorts. Call it a whim- I wanted to tell you why you are so desirable. You have a very unique constitution, and also, you provide me with a challenge. Hard work, exactly.
"I wouldn't call this hard work. You've just been standing here, prattling on about nonsense. What makes you think I care about your disgusting habits?"
Ah, I suppose it is like that. I don't know why you would. It isn't a topic of conversation befitting someone of your status, that's for sure.
"Then go. Make yourself useful. I don't have time for this."
Very well. Whatever you wish. But before I go, I think you should know something- something that I've realized recently, something important to me. Perhaps, the reason why I wanted to tell you all of this in the first place, give away my thoughts like papers on the street. You see, I was a very arrogant creature. Regardless of my tastes, I've never been the type to let myself be humiliated, not by anyone. It irked me- I suppose it still does, sometimes- to be spoken down to, to be treated with anything less than the reverence deserved for a demon. No matter whose wishes I brought to life, I only ever did it from my own perch of superiority, always a figure of mystery and fear. That was just how I operated, part of my aesthetic. The raven on the windowsill, the shadows across the bedspread at night, the flicker of the candle before it died- those kinds of images. Nothing so close and familiar. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you? Most humans won't survive another minute, should they talk down to me. From most humans, I never tolerate any kind of disrespect. For most humans, I would never offer myself with such devotion.
"Most."
Actions