deercountry | 15 . JOHNUARY

How charitable of 'em.

[There's silence for a time, as John retches in the bathroom. Long enough that it could well seem like Qrow has just fucked off and left him to his organ puking. Eventually, though, there's a little clink against the wall. Whenever John comes out of the bathroom, he'll find a plate of saltine crackers and some Trench equivalent to gatorade by the door. It comes with a note: couch's open if you need to crash the night.

So really, he did just fuck off and leave John to his puking, but mostly because it was too awkward to just hang around and wait it out, or like, be seen doing something thoughtful about it. Grosser than puked up organs tbqh.

He makes a point to leave his room through the window, the next morning. Just in case.]

Not really, no. I've seen someone be possessed by the memory of someone else... I haven't had that happen to me, though.

[That was a very weird case with a very weird Black Mage. Thankfully it seems to be resolved these days, but oof.]

Well, where I'm from memory is also made of aether. It's not inconceivable that it could have a powerful effect on the body, if the squid bodies are naturally unstable.

[Well, this is awkward. Some part of Qrow, honestly, had hoped after the organ puking incident, they'd be able to avoid each other for quite some time. It'd be so much easier to avoid acknowledging the situation in which John had been in a vulnerable position and Qrow had offered a hand, but Doorway seems to have other ideas.

Qrow is staring a little sullenly at the Omni when he appears across from John, knowing the other is likely looking at his own blurb, which would be embarrassing enough if someone he liked saw it.

He sighs so, so heavily.]

Nice slippers.

[ He tips his head in thought and easy acknowledgment, at that. ]

I'd be interested to hear the nitty-gritty of how aether works, or is thought to work, one of these days... If you're interested in talking.

[ He splays his hands like appeasement, like no pressure. Both of them are aware of why half of town wouldn't be thrilled to work with him. ]

I'm getting back into the research game. No natural disasters on the agenda.

[ So: on one hand, this is deeply inconvenient. He already knows he has to speak carefully or they'll start swatting him down for every half-truth, every evasion, which is frankly rude when he's not even trying to hide anything from this guy. As self-declared enemies go, Qrow has blown everyone out of the water by being such a sweet guy John still wonders if he was playing it up. Nobody can be that decent without it being at least mostly a bit.

Sitting across from him, watching Qrow sink down slightly in his seat, John knows they can agree: if the Doorway turned up now to congratulate them on friendship, they'd have a touching team-up to kick its ass. ]

That's my divine regalia, I'll have you know. Very important stuff.

[ John does not generally get pep talks about killing gods. Throwing hands with the Pthumerians has been, on the whole, an everyone disliked that kind of activity. Only Chara has tried to hype him up about a fresh round in that ring, and every time John looks at that black-eyed fucked-up too-old revenant, he feels like he needs to go lie down.

There's a horrible sense of disconnect, as Asriel offers him a sharp laugh and a fierce smile. John feels it again, here and now: the weight of resignation is crushing. But what else does he have going for him, right? What's he going to do instead?

Help her, Annabel said, before the ocean swept her back again. It feels like no time since then, and it feels like a thousand years. That means prying the current powers out of the throne, right? One shitty god to another. At least there's an end goal to that. A promise of morning.

John scrubs a hand back through his hair, exhales a heavy breath, and nods agreement. ]

Physical strength might be stretching it... You don't want to see me in a literal fistfight. But if you can bridge that gap? That's when it'll get interesting.

She called him her cav, and stopped once she remembered having one. Once she remembered ten thousand years of not having one anymore. She still remembers.

John hadn't known— well. There's a lot he hadn't known about the workings of Anna's social life, and to come up against it like this, the raw underbelly of what it's done to her, leaves him in ringing silence. His fingers have drifted to his brow, hard to the creases as though he might press a headache back into place. For a moment he worries his lip with the edge of his teeth, gaze gone faraway.

In the end, he just shuts his eyes and exhales slow. His hand falls, and for a moment, he is carefully still.

"I can imagine." He's lost all attention on Waver's horse legs, Waver's outburst with the flower pot. There's still water trickled into the hollow of his throat, his collar soaked, but he seems to have forgotten. "But this isn't a haunting I can exorcise... not without doing some other damage. Whatever has stayed with her, it's hers to contend with."

The chair doesn't shock him. God has not made anyone forget for ten thousand years, and she'd kill him for it, anyway. What would be the point?

"She was a lyctor. However briefly, it was real to her... It was real to everyone." To him. He knows what he was to her: he might understand it better than she does. "But it's done. We bury the dead and hush the ghosts. I'm not coming after her."

It's a flattening, a simplification of the truth. It's true enough to matter.

"... I'm not saying that you'll go after her,"

He said in soft, level tones-- recalling everything he had known about the life and experiences of Alexandria to find that lightness he needed. Life as a mage, even a third rate one, didn't lend itself towards sincerity or working with others. While he could do so, and had done so a multitude of times, there was always an edge he couldn't cross.

But, in another life he had known.

Anna wasn't that only one left with memories of a life that wasn't her's.

"I'm saying that I need more information. This is all beyond anything I know, and anything oh my Earth. But, I'll learn it, if you'll help me. I'll do whatever I can to help my friend."

[Much to Qrow's own chagrin, the decent-ness is the main part that's not a bit. He does not have half the swagger he pretends to.

The comment wins a snort. Dryly:]

My mistake. Just wouldn't have taken the bunnies for your divine aesthetic, is all. I'd have thought you might prefer hornets.

[Because, you know, he likes to kick hornet nests that happen to be eldritch abominations!]

[ Fittingly, that one stings: it gets a shift of expression from him, a tightening around the eyes and mouth that is half a wince. ]

Oh, you know. God loves all his creations, et cetera.

[ The joke is that he didn't invent bunnies, or hornets. He invented Heralds. He sure as hell did not mean to. ]

[...]

Really? That's all you got for me?

[Qrow is looking at a profile full of sex jokes and he's not going to take the bait with rabbits?

It's weird. For digs Qrow could've made, that one barely had any teeth. He's thrown worse, more direct insults in his face without getting that reaction.]

Edited 2023-03-30 18:56 (UTC)

[ By this point, John figures anyone even peripherally aware of the boat incident knows about his Omen: she's pretty memorable, and that's setting aside the closer look Oscar got in November. But Qrow doesn't press the issue, so John takes his softball pitch and rolls with it, the wince sliding away again under his usual dry tone. ]

What's anyone got against bunnies? Be fruitful and multiply, they've got that bit down. Second only to humans.

[ normal jokes when your planet collapsed under a population of eleven billion people ]

I wouldn't mind sharing. Most of what I know is common knowledge. It's the particulars of how the star - the planet is that is less well-known. It was shattered at one point... but that's a long story.

[Oh, he's aware. He's wary of John, but not afraid. Sure, maybe the other could kill him if he wanted to, but Nara'a's survived worse people than Jod. At least as far as he's aware - he really doesn't know the full story and he knows it.]

Research is always worth it, in my opinion. I did my own when I was young - managed to burn my eyebrows clean off in the process.

[He chuckles and waggles his eyebrows.]

And good. It's a pain to swim in an ocean that's pitching a fit, ability to breathe underwater or no.

"How did she take that pitch?"

He's gone wry, gentle but not sympathetic. John has closed himself off: he settles forward again, drops his hands to lace his fingers, rubbing his thumb along the edge of a palm as though to soothe himself. There are still bits of flower sticking to his shirtfront, but he's moved on.

"I can only guess at her story, and it's not the kind to tell at this table." The implication that he'd tell it at all nearly gets him shocked, but they seem to let this pass on technicality. "This one's out of my hands. Ten thousand years is hell on anyone, and to dig out those stories isn't a kindness... it's better to let it lie."

They don't shock him, because he believes it. More than not.

[ The planet was shattered is the kind of thing to catch his attention and keep it: John looks openly baffled, and interested with it. Still, he drops his hands and quirks a wry smile in answer to that laugh. ]

Sounds like a plan. You don't want to hear about the necromantic equivalent of burned eyebrows.

"... That's right, the timer."

He had been so caught up in frustrations that he had forgotten this detail. How much longer did they have, he wondered? Could they stall it?

He heaved a sigh. The story John told was roughly the same as what Duty had said. Softer, not as abrupt, and not with the tones of reproach and objection.

Waver was aware that he was an outsider; Anna had never treated him as such, and talked to him as if he knew exactly what she referring to.

"Honestly? I don't think she can even imagine a world where anyone can help her." He said, shoulders visibly slumping. He had planned to have his emotional guards in place and approach John as Lord El Melloi II.

Instead, there only sat Waver Velvet. Or... Perhaps Mackenzie.

"But this is a world where time doesn't work the same way," he added, musing now. "It can flow as free as the tides, and pluck any version of us from any time out of the sea."

It was a sea that bore the wishes of generations and only promised the unknown. Like Okeanos, the sea that would forever be his rival for his King's attention.

"There's evidently another world where I'm reunited with the first man I loved," he said quietly. "That's not a world I know beyond these shores. I don't doubt that there's a world where we can free Anna Amarande from the burdens of Apollonia."

Edited 2023-03-30 23:48 (UTC)

It is a collaborative effort, is it not?

[ there is plenty asriel will take credit for without discounting john's contributions to the work, and if they're going to fuss about semantics, he'll stick to this. ]

When I understood Dust, I could break something up into particles and put it back together again. [ a pause. ] Or not. Everything has a weakness; the answer will come.

[ sure, he had to die to secure the last win, but he has even more reasons to believe in their inevitable victory this time. he was handed an extremely potent and dangerous weapon in blood magic. ]

But there's no need to belabour the point. I believe it's your turn to change the subject anyway.

Heh, dunno about second. Think our scales tip a bit more on the other end, you know? Multiplying isn't exactly the goal most of the time, anyway.

[It still sticks in the back of his mind like a splinter. Somehow, he got to this guy with that one, even though he wasn't even trying. Hornets are a sore spot, apparently. It should feel more satisfying than it does.

He looks between him, and the cards, and the room that clearly has no way out until Doorway has deemed them having Bonded (TM) enough, and he sighs, after a moment.]

Alright. Gonna go out on a limb and assume you'd rather not talk about whatever just happened there, but we are currently stuck for an indeterminate amount of time. So. We gonna go through the pretense of smalltalk roulette or should we just rip off that bandaid now?

[They won't get away without talking about something sensitive, and they've clearly landed upon such a topic right here.]

Edited 2023-03-31 09:29 (UTC)

[ Visually exploring his environment is second nature to Light. Even without the heavy dose of suspicion that he holds for John, he'd have looked for clues to further his understanding of the man he's with. ]

Are these the last men to agree to this deal?

[ His tone isn't exactly harsh. They're in a position of forced partnership so there has to be some kind of agreement to a temporary truce to allow this to flow smoothly. Light trusts he hides his monstrous side better than this. He's the kind of evil who can blend in well with society. Even if they know little about each other, Light can make some deductions based on how L reacts to him. ]

Based on your experience, we'll be freed when we satisfy some kind of condition. It'd have to be notable for something that would be satisfied by accident. You mentioned that it could be as easy as telling each other a secret. Let's test out those theories before moving to something more physical.

So, do you have a secret for me?

Probably not. I'm no chirurgeon, but it's got to involve body fluids. I'm guessing, at least.

[No! Thank! You!]

Edited 2023-04-01 23:42 (UTC)

A shame that it didn't quite work out. I'd love to know more about this place and how it's magic works. I won't say that it's unlike what I'm used to, but it's certainly different, at the very least.

[ Beatrice takes a lingering sip of her tea. ]

Have you found out anything particularly interesting?

[ There it is. He can't fault the guy for pressing an easy advantage, but that doesn't mean John is thrilled to chat about his Omen. Utterly deadpan, he opts for: ]

Maybe I'm afraid of bugs.

[ He taps the cards. ]

You sure we're going to miss out on these? There are some good ones in here. Tell me what your childhood was like, that one's got to be cheerful.

Totally. It was all dancing cartoon bears and eating glue.

[zzzzzzap.]

Tch, really? That's kind of an overliteral take on lying, isn't it?

[Does he actually need to answer it because John read the card out loud? He doesn't want to. It's something he's told exactly two people in Trench about, and he's sleeping with one of them. John is someone he can begrudgingly sort of admit to himself isn't intolerable company, but it's not like they're friends. Awkward goddamn city.]

....Look, let's just say I learned how to fight and it didn't go to waste, alright.

[ John, for his part, doesn't get zapped for afraid of bugs, which seems just as inane in the opposite direction. He sails past it in a hurry. ]

Fair enough. I claim many skills, but being able to swing a sword isn't among them.

[ John huffs a laugh under his breath, as though acknowledging a good dig, and provides nothing more about the bits of bone. He hooks a stool with his heel, instead, and one for Light. It's not ideal, sitting hand in hand to have this awkward little talk, but he can manage it. ]

Plenty. What kind do you want? This town hasn't left me with many stones unturned.

15 . JOHNUARY

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject