13 . autumn catch-all

[necrolord]

Who: John Gaius and company.
What: After a rough summer, the King Undying lays low.
When: September - October
Where: Mostly Gaze.

Content Warnings: Tagged in headers as needed. Note all the usual warnings of this character.

Comments

[necrolord]

[ Tense kid. Seems reasonable. John gives an exaggerated shrug and hooks his hands into his pockets, tries to look harmless. Aside from the eyes, he pulls it off: he's not particularly tall or old or muscular, doesn't look like anybody much. ]

Seems like it. I think I was overdue.

[ He had a quiet September, except all the ways in which he didn't. ]

[strongroots]

Lucky you. [ To be overdue. He then pauses, a thought of consideration, before unfurling his hand around the shard of something that'd been guiding him around -- glowing brighter than it has his entire walk. He looks to the guy again, and holds it up between finger and thumb. ]

Think my shiny rock likes you.

[ A shiny part of a rock, and then spikes around one half of it. ]

[necrolord]

[ He fishes the other half out of his pocket, and holds it up to show the glow before he tosses it over. His new friend here can be the one to hold the compass. ]

See if we've got the pieces of a magical map, or if they're just getting really inventive with souvenirs.

[strongroots]

[ Robby catches it with his free hand, both shining brighter than before so close to one another. A look give to the guy, but Robby brings them close, wondering how they'll make these pieces be anything useful together --

but oh, he forgot how magic bullshit this place is. The two sections practically magnet together, their broken halves gluing as good as new. He has to cup it to keep it from falling, but then moves it to one hand, holding it in the palm as the dragon head swings West. ]

What, that easy? [ He's talking to himself, not sure how much he trusts this. Is this it? Or is it their destination they should be worrying about? ]

[necrolord]

The puzzles around here tend towards grade-school teambuilding exercises and away from being puzzles.

[ Reassuringly, he adds: ]

There will probably be something big and slimy to jump out at us on the walk.

[strongroots]

Cool. [ A very unimpressed cool, a scoff given in a huff. ] You like fighting, or running? --This way.

[ This way is given with a nod, a note lower, and Robby walking in said direction that the compass is guiding them in. He isn't interested in dallying, even with the threat of something big and slimy along the way. ]

[necrolord]

[ John follows without complaint. Still, he spreads his hands as if to draw attention to how muscular he isn't. ]

I'm not much good at either. We'll call it fight, if it comes to that.

[ it won't be much of a fight, but not in the way he's implying! ]

[strongroots]

[ He eyes the motion, but what's said doesn't match its meaning. ]

You got a good idea then?

[ If he's picking fight than running. But it does remind Robby of another option he hadn't considered.

(Though, it would hopefully go hand in hand with running.) ]

[necrolord]

A few tricks up my sleeve, maybe. Or I just know how sad I'll look trying to keep up with you at a sprint.

[ He seems pretty nonchalant about this. ]

I've been here about a year now. The jump scares start to lose their sting.

[strongroots]

[ Yeah, the guy sure isn't worried about whatever's going on, or in maybes. It might annoy Robby, if they were impeding in any way; but the guy's given an answer in a few tricks, and Robby's more concerned about survival. He doesn't expect cooperation from a stranger just because, but he'll take what he can get.

(Himself, he's nervous; keeps it behind a face that looks annoyed, ears that are listening out, even with the soothing quality coming off their compass. He has a hand down on the same side that a handle pokes out from under his jacket. A short-ranged weapon.) ]

You can use all the tricks you want. I just want to get out of this in one piece, and if we get jumped, I'm not pretending I can take it on.

[ Simple as, straight-forward. But acknowledging that brings to mind the reason, one that comes far too easily; and his mouth tightens as he tries to blot out the thought.

He exhales sharply through his nose. ]

[necrolord]

Fair enough. Fingers crossed for no surprises, then.

[ He notes the nerves, notes the weapon, and makes no comment on either. It's a spooky forest in a spooky town, run by hostile squid gods and populated by guys nobody wanted to get stuck hiking with. ]

You new to town?

[strongroots]

Since last month. [ So, yes. ] We don't do monsters or getting dumped in woods where I'm from.

[ And the guy's already shared how long he's been here, so Robby doesn't feel any need to do the obligatory return of the question. The conversation doesn't bother him, however; he's more distracted by what ifs and general Trench bullshit than helping the flow of their talk, sounding rather annoyed at being dumped into this situation, actually.

If this turns into either the hallway maze or cult world, he's going to flip. ]

[necrolord]

[ He makes a sympathetic noise, unruffled by the attitude. ]

Big adjustment, then. Not that we're big on either, where I'm from, but at least the decor is similar. [ He tips a hand to the spooky woods. ] Walking skeletons, viscera, all the usual. It's homey.

[strongroots]

That's gross. [ You know, maybe not the words to pick after 'it's homey', but also: that's gross. The first thing to mind and out of his mouth. It's not a strong reaction, no scrunching of his nose or anything, but he does look at the man, as if this detail about his home world deserves it.

One look, and then back on the path, tree canopies rustling lightly above their heads. ]

What kind of life is that?

[ Vague, perhaps, but he isn't sure how else to phrase it. What kind of life does one have where walking skeletons and viscera are painted as the norm? ]

[necrolord]

[ He huffs a little laugh, amused without offense. He doesn't break his stride as they walk, ambling along like this is a scenic afternoon. ]

One we scraped together even in rough circumstances. It's wild, the stuff people can come up with when they need to. Other worlds got flashier magic, I guess... fireballs and dragons, all that... we only ever got necromancy.

[strongroots]

[ Necromancy. It's a word that Robby knows, but isn't exactly hearing in his day-to-day life, that it gives him pause. It's certainly making him less focused on everything about them, his expression quizzical, confused as he has to confirm with himself that he knows - and that is - what the word means. ]

You're the ones bringing the dead back?

[ He looks at the guy for longer than a moment this time. ]

[necrolord]

[ He wobbles a hand. ]

With caveats.

[ Once this sinks in, he goes on: ]

Locally? No. This isn't my turf. If you have a bone to pick about the squid thing, I'm not the guy to take that complaint. Even back home, death is death... we mostly deal in ghosts, these days.

[strongroots]

[ Everything revolving around Trench, even the people in it, were so beyond him that he's initially confused. And even when he realises where the wires have gotten crossed in communication, it doesn't make it much better. They're talking about skeletons. Everyone being dead-now-alive squids. Ghosts. ]

So, back home it's skeletons -- here it's ghosts? [ There's no outrage - moral outrage is for people who don't feel they're like talking about a movie concept. He's still firmly in baffled territory, confused. ] Do you even need ghosts here? Are there just-- ghosts?

[ Just ghost arounds to do a necromancy on?? He's so utterly, utterly confused. ]

[necrolord]

[ So they're taking it from the top, then. He huffs a breath that is nearly a laugh, sympathetic. ]

I'll back up. Back home, we work with— let's call it 'death energy.' It doesn't just work on the dead. You can use it to work on the body, use it for healing... regrow flesh and bones, that kind of thing. Or take an old dead skeleton and give it instructions, get it up and walking around. Talking to ghosts, that's necromancy too, but proper resurrection is another league entirely.

[ His league, specifically. ]

The ghosts here are weird, locally. I much prefer our home-grown ghosts. At least the skeletons still work the same.

[strongroots]

[ Home is a place with skeletons walking around under instruction. Okay. Okay. It's a story that should be called out for bullshit, and Robby never quite knows if to accept things just because. Rather, he goes for allowing it: some person is telling him a fantastical story, and if it's true or not doesn't matter until it does.

How to react to it, however, doesn't come so easily. Robby's quiet as he processes it, a few heavy breaths through it. So, so beyond him; and the world they're in isn't any better in its dangers, or its extremes. ]

I'll pass a visit to your place, [ is what he lands on; dry humour, at least. He fiddles with his free hand, tapping a finger against the side of his jacket and trouser leg, a fist made, unmade. ] Must be a hit at Halloween.

[necrolord]

[ He's quiet as Robby thinks on it. Good answer, in the end: he does laugh, this time. ]

We don't celebrate. Can you believe it? [ and whose fault is that, john ] But it means we were ready to go for a place like this... aside from all the squid stuff.

[strongroots]

[ Of course. Why celebrate when your entire life is Halloween? ]

The squid stuff bother you? [ Robby doesn't even think about it. Maybe he should, but- ] Wasn't what I thought dying, or...whatever this is was gonna have. I don't know. We're here now.

[ That he knows, that he can work with, and everything before it can't be done anything about. So he says it like fact, nevermind the parts he can't understand. ]

[necrolord]

[ This displays a level of willingness to accept squidly adversity that God himself does not possess. ]

Funny, right? That I'm rattled by tentacles when none of the rest does the trick. But I wouldn't call this the afterlife— more like something a little sideways of reality. Maybe a jump to the left and a step to the right.

But, hey, pragmatic attitude. I can appreciate it.

[strongroots]

[ There's a huff, small as it is. ] I'm not a guy that can mess with the dead. If someone's going to crack reality, it's not me.

[ Which sounds dumb, but fuck it, they're in magical world land. Someone could probably do it with science and magic and whatever else they have.

But know what he can do? ]

Nice reference.

[ Acknowledge. ]

[necrolord]

[ He huffs a laugh to be acknowledged, startled by it every time. ]

Cracking reality is overrated, let me tell you. Better to pass on it.