deercountry | 14 . winter catch-all

[ From the other side of the line comes a punched-out sound of surprise. It worked: Oscar has his attention.

There is a long moment's pause, then an exhale. ]

Sure. You know I'm good with those.

[ Wry as hell, but amused with it. This is the kind of bullshit he can appreciate. ]

Come on over.

[There was no initial response-- except, within moments, a winged creature dropped down from the sky. Large enough to carry a teenager, closer inspection revealed the creature to be the ordinarily pint-sized chimera with both the features of a bird and a deer that typically trailed some ways after Oscar with their presence known if not seen. Diggs was in battle-mode, with its crown of antlers fully realized and the wary carriage of a creature that was both willing and able to use them, landed gently in front of the gothic mansion with their Sleeper safe on its back. The gleaming emerald glow of Oscar's Aura shimmering reflexively as the boy shifted enough to warily eye the man who would be God.

Clearly, God wasn't the only one who had an Encounter that night.

Oscar's coat was singed where the flames of Paul's fear-driven rage had burned through, blackened edges of fabric frayed and the streaks of soot darkening his cheeks. He cast John an uneasy, sheepish look that faded quickly.

He could handle pain-- but he didn't like putting on an act.]

Um. Hi?

[ It's the first time he's seen the kid's Omen like this, and somewhere under the exhaustion he files it away as interesting. Still: God meets him in the doorway, looking as he always does, albeit now with a crown of ferns in his short dark hair. ]

Tough day, huh? [ He's assessing, looking at that burn, but doesn't ask. ] Can you make it inside? I've got the kettle on.

[Tough day all around-- and Oscar was tired of playing the Wise Wizard to someone that had expressly disregarded his warning from months ago at the moment. Oscar shared a tense look with Diggs, questioning both his sanity and his stamina at that moment, before he gingerly slid off of the Omen.]

My legs... are fine.

[He said tightly as he dismounted, wincing when the movement jostled the fabric charred fabric that clung to his shoulder and upper arm. He had known better than to try to get a look himself-- removing anything from a burn often did more damage than it was worth.

With obvious hesitation he stepped closer, favoring one side despite his words. Knowing what this looked like, he elaborated: ]

I took a fall on the sand in the middle of an inferno. The balance hasn't been quite right since the summer, but that kept the worst of it off me.

Edited 2022-12-22 18:48 (UTC)

[ Hard not to wonder what caused an inferno. Hard not to guess. John says nothing; he just tips his head and leads the way inside, to the same old spooky mansion with the same clatter of skeletons along the edges. The skeletons themselves are different, though: thin-boned and strangely arch-legged, with a scything avian sternum. Elf skeletons. ]

Take a seat, either way, and we'll have a look.

[That didn't bode well. But, Oscar didn't dwell on it. Instead, he focused on putting one foot in front of the other, Diggs overing supportively just a half step behind, and slumped heavily in the chair that John had offered.

He had been careful not to remove any of the fabric that clung to the injuries to his skin. The sleeve of one arm was pretty well charred, and the tips of his overgrown hair showed further evidence of being singed on close inspection.]

Thanks...

[He breathed, still not fully willing to let his guard down for the pain.]

My sister's fiancee could fix this with no problem, but I don't want to worry them right now. They're in the middle of... wedding stuff.

[Oscar huffed, a little more bitter now.]

I'm gonna need to explain this to my other half, but healing isn't a thing either of us can do.

So I'm your back-alley option?

[ He sounds a little amused, enough to rouse him from the mood he's been in. John waves Oscar to a comfortable chair, heedless of blood on the upholstery, and steps closer: not to touch, just to consider the wreck of his arm. ]

Is there anything you want to tell me about this beach fire?

Yeah.

[He said tightly, trying to put on a brave face while he squirmed internally. This needed to be done-- but he was hurting and he generally didn't like being touched.

Turning his face away, he pouted.]

Don't fuck with magic books. Destroy them on sight-- that's what my teacher said. He was just a guy, but this was one thing he was serious about.

Magic books, huh.

[ Oscar turns away like a kid preparing for a shot, so John makes it simple: he reaches out, plain and gentle, and touches his arm just above the wound. The kick of healing is a bright flare of nothing, sharp and citric, and the skin knits itself cleanly shut. ]

All magic books? What's the story there?

[The healing injuries itched under John's touch, and Oscar did his best not to squirm and recoil away. Not watching helped-- much like it would for a kid, indeed.]

Gerry didn't give me a lot of details,

[He explained, reaching out with his other hand to gently rub Diggs snout. The omen, now returned to its smaller form, hovered nearby and kept a watchful eye on John. Both boy and omen were alike in being careful... although, they could perhaps be a little moreso.

Oscar continued:]

All he said was to burn any book that said it belonged to the collection of Jurgen Leitner on sight. He was one of those guys who liked heavy metal, wore all black and these big, heavy boots, and always had his hair dyed black. He even helped me dye mine, once.

[Frowning at the bittersweet recollections of one of the first adults he had trusted outside of Remnant, Oscar finally looked up at John. His hazel eyes were bright and serious, even in the dim lighting.]

The book this time said it belonged to the Archivist. I don't know who that is, and I had told my friend to burn it anyway.

...Turns out they didn't.

Jurgen Leitner, [ he echoes, thoughtful. It gives them something easy to say while he works and while Oscar pulls a brave face about it. ] Doesn't ring a bell. Love the style, though, I'm always more willing to listen to a guy who knows what he wants.

[ The arm is mended. John looks back down at him, matches that bright gaze with his own dark eyes. ]

Never Mind, you think? I'll confess I'm not his biggest fan.

...I haven't really paid attention to that stuff.

[Oscar admitted, slowly daring to look in that direction once more. He couldn't fully read John's dark gaze, but the acknowledgement of his warning was reassuring. At least now he didn't feel like he was just throwing rocks into the ocean.]

The magic here worries me, so I haven't looked too much into it. I'm more concerned about gardening, and making sure my family has enough food for the winter.

And, after Gerry's warning? I didn't want to mess with anything that looked too weird. Especially if it looked like a book.

[ Oscar looks back at him, something a little steadier in it, and John exhales. ]

Can't fault you for that.

[ He claps the kid on the arm, a sort of there, that's done, and steps away. The shirt's a loss, but at least he won't go home hurting. It's funny, remembering he's on the books here as a healer. ]

Your friend catches fire again, you can let me know. I'll be here.

[ Apparently. For all that he hates it; for all that it's more than he can bear; for all that he knows there's a boy melting down, half a town away, and that it's too broken to mend. Everything is.

But maybe, sometimes, he can still play Jesus as consolation prize. ]

14 . winter catch-all

all my homies love backdating

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