deercountry | [002] tell me everything that happened

Entry tags:

[002] tell me everything that happened

Who: Orpheus (

themuseabandonsyou), Kyle, Bigby, Kassandra, and Michael
What: December 2021 catch-all
When: Throughout December
Where: In memory (the Road to Hell, the Underworld), Cellar Door (a fountain square, a small cafe)
Warnings: drug-like mental effects/mind alteration, dog attack

I. they had lights inside their eyes (cw: drug-like mental effects/mind alteration) (Cellar Door - a fountain square)(closed to Kyle)

sweet little melody

sharp brown tailcoat and a very strange top-hat

glow

"Let me call you sweetheart
I'm in love with you
Let me hear you whisper
That you love me too,"

II. did you see the closing window (Cellar Door, a small cafe)(closed to Bigby)

III. did you hear the slamming door (cw: dog attack) (The Road to Hell)(closed to Kassandra)

"Wait for me, I'm coming."

IV. they moved forward, and my heart died (The Underworld)(closed to Michael)

I own

V. Wildcard

ooc: Want to do something with me this month? Let me know at questionableveracity on Plurk or quodVide#2951 on Discord!!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Michael follows Orpheus's gaze, but even if the factory weren't vague and fuzzy in retrospect, Michael's got no experience with actual manufacturing himself. He just makes stuff. That's the point, isn't it?

"I mean, economy's a human thing," he says, turning back to observe Hades. "Immortals don't really need things on a regular basis. Don't need to feed ourselves, don’t really need property, got all the time in the world...there was never any trade going on, where I'm from. Can he just not make his own things?" He's got a pretty fancy suit; didn't he make that? Sick tattoos, too - honestly Michael kinda digs the look, even if he doesn't know that he could pull it off himself.

Everything else, though? "You can't just own people. What kind of legal system even exists, between humans and immortals?" It's not as though he's blind to the concept of slavery; he's from Hell. But who's gonna enforce any kind of contract between an immortal and mortal? The government?? "Doesn't he have anything better to do? This place is a dump, he's gotta renovate in here."

For his part, Orpheus looks a little overwhelmed by what Michael has to say. None of this is anything he's really considered, or if he has there's large aspects of it that he's just taken for granted his entire life.

"I don't know? Everything in the underground is already his domain. I guess he's just - rearranging it? Making them rearrange it."

Could he do it with a snap of his fingers, instead of putting the shades to work, though? Orpheus has no idea. He shakes his head.

"I don't know why he does any of it. It doesn't make sense to me either. Eurydice might know more? But she might not want to talk about it."

("As for you," says Hades, in the background, raising a hand. "Everybody gather 'round! Everybody look and see! What becomes of trespassers with no respect for property!"

The workers on the factory floor, previously keeping their heads low and trying to go about their work as well as they could while keeping a leery eye on the goings-on, rise from their stations and close ranks around memory-Orpheus, two of them grabbing Eurydice by the arms and dragging her off to the side. Baffled and even more overwhelmed than his present-day counterpart, he tries to follow after her, only to be grabbed from behind and thrown to the ground.)

Present-Orpheus, still looking at Michael, winces visibly at the loud thud of himself hitting the concrete floor.

"...I won't ask her." Michael's only spoken with Eurydice a little, but he likes her. After everything, he knows how traumatic a bad afterlife can be for people. Maybe he doesn't fully understand - maybe he can't - but he knows better than to bring it up casually.

When the workers start to move, Michael moves too, circling around the tallest one and leaning in as if to try and inspect the man's face. It's not easy; he's moving too quickly, and Michael has to backpedal to stop from being walked through. The guy's not looking good, though. Can't Hades even keep his humans healthy? It's not like it's hard, they're already dead.

And apparently, this is all part of some weird punishment handed down to Orpheus. Ugly thing, making humans go after each other.

"Property?" His incredulity nearly outweighs his scorn. Who cares about that? He turns to look at the proper Orpheus. "What's his problem? Is he mad that you just walked in here?" That's certainly unusual, and probably sort of against the rules. But geez, overreact much?

"That's probably for the best?" says Orpheus, flinching again as one of the workers heavy boots catches his memory-self in the ribs. Unsure of whether he should keep watching - is it rude to look away if it's him? If he knows how it goes? Is it ruder to just stand here, even if it's all he can do? - he looks over at Michael, trailing along after him as he puts a hand to his own side, thinking about cracked ribs long-since healed.

"That I walked in, and that I was trying to take Eurydice back with me, I think," he says, worrying his lip. "No mortal leaves the Underworld. Ever. I'm still not sure who I am to have thought I could try something like this? But there was nothing else I could do."

What was his other option? Try to live without Eurydice, knowing she called for him before she went, and he wasn't there to hear her? Let their last conversation be him brushing her off as he tried to work on a song that just wouldn't come to him? He couldn't do that.

"He said - Eurydice told me he calls the dead his children, sometimes. That all this is supposed to be a favor to them. I think that makes it worse? Than if it were supposed to be a punishment. I don't think he understands how bad any of this is, or if he does he thinks there's something worthwhile in it."

Michael winces at the attack, and shifts as if he means to go over and intervene. But he doesn't. He knows he can't. He'll just stand with Orpheus instead, and watch if Orpheus is going to watch. He finds the violence distasteful, but it's not quite the same viscerally for him.

"Our angels were like that," he says instead, eyes still on past-Orpheus even as he speaks to the present one. "Not like this - their nice afterlife looked nice enough. I guess superficially, it was. But they didn't understand humans. They knew they didn't, and they never just asked. Everyone there was miserable."

Such a waste of time - all that brainstorming ways to make the humans happier, when there were a bunch of humans right there to consult. That's why Michael doesn't tend to make a lot of broad rulings himself. He doesn't want to be...well, some kind of king about it, deciding for others what ought to make them happy.

"It is true that humans don't leave the afterlife. I don't...know exactly what I'd do, if someone turned up in mine like that." It's really not a question he's ever had to consider. The only time humans ever came straight from Earth to the afterlife without dying first, it was his doing. He supposes he'd mostly just be impressed, if a mortal managed it on their own somehow.

Michael considers for a moment, then shrugs. "But of course, if there's a way you can try, you've gotta try it. I got my humans' original deaths reversed on a long shot like that. You just did what you had to do."

The beating continues apace - notably, at no point does Orpheus try to fight back, beyond trying to twist out of the hands holding him down. His sole focus is on trying to escape, to run, but he's very effectively surrounded and outnumbered.

"There's parts of Hadestown that are supposed to be nicer than this," says present-Orpheus, distractedly. "Elysium, mostly. Where heroes dwell. But you have to have lead a really accomplished life to go there. Most people wind up here, in - I think this is Asphodel?"

The endless slums and factories surrounding the city's bright center, choked in smog and the streets congested with people marching to and from the relentless grind of their work.

"What was wrong with the afterlife the angels were running, though? How was it not working?"

Michael folds his arms, watching. There's no way Orpheus could fight his way out of that, for sure. He'd probably be better off just trying to shield his softer parts and waiting it out - but it's kinda late for feedback on that.

"Maybe not so different from this Elysium." He sort of remembers the name, from old Greek arrivals, but he never paid that much attention to their mythologies. This sounds about right, though. "They only ever let in maybe fifty people, in the whole history of time. The standards were too high. So, obviously, everything just stagnated. No new blood, nothing ever really happening...humans don't deal well without stimulation. Immortals, either, I think, but it takes longer with us."

Here at least there's things to do, he supposes. But there's a lot of middle ground between stagnant nothing and forced labor. "Also, I think the constant unending orgasms fried their brains a little," he adds off-handedly. "They weren't quite right."

Orpheus looks briefly shocked and a little scandalized by that last comment, but ultimately seems to decide that he's just... not going to think too hard about the implications of it! And moves on.

"Right, I think you told me about that? About how you and your friends went to fix it, at least. But, I guess that makes sense? As nice as it was, nothing new ever happened in it, so it got... boring."

And that's hard for him to imagine - getting tired of things not being a struggle, but it's not impossible, if he really thinks about it. Isn't there some great satisfaction to be had, in overcoming hardship? In weathering it together, with the people you love? What would happen if that was taken away entirely?

(Meanwhile, the workers seem to be drawing back, satisfied that they've done enough. Persephone, scowling, sweeps up the stairs to the balcony where Hades stands, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him back into his office, while the pair of workers holding Eurydice's arms drag her back to her station. Memory-Orpheus lies on the ground, breathing shallowly and curled in on himself, before starting to sing, quietly.

If it's true what they say
If there's nothing to be done
If it's true that it's too late
And the girl I love is gone
If it's true what they say
Is this how the world is?
To be beaten and betrayed and then be told that nothing changes
It'll always be like this
If it's true what they say
I'll be on my way"

He gets to his feet, carefully, unsteadily, and starts to limp towards the door.)

"It's not about making up fake problems for people," Michael clarifies, because he feels like that's what's going on here. Sure, he could make the Good Place a mirror of Earth, right down to the capitalist structure, but who wants that? "It's just about making room for new people and new experiences. Sure, not everyone's going to immediately get along, but that's just life."

"And - well, you do have to let people work," he adds, with a bit of a cautious shrug. "We don't make them, but before - you know, if someone thought to themselves I'd like to make some cookies, cookies would just appear. Which was silly, there's no room for creativity in that." The problem wasn't really the existence of effort; it's just about being able to spend it as you like.

His gaze follows Persephone as she drags Hades away - what's her deal, anyway? But then he has to step aside as the memory of Orpheus stumbles in his general direction. Yikes, he really does look bad. "That was a shitty thing to do," Michael says quietly. "You did something very impressive, making your way here. Should've been some recognition of that."

(Really, if it were up to him, of course Michael would've let Eurydice go. There's potential consequences in that, some of them pretty serious, but...how do you not?)

Orpheus nods, thoughtfully, taking that in. "It sounds like that'd be a hard way to live, after a while. Having everything done for you."

He grimaces a little. Just thinking about it makes him feel - weird. Guilty, almost? Not that he thinks he could ever have met the standards of the afterlife Michael is describing, but the notion of sitting around being waited on hand and foot just makes him worry about who's doing the waiting. But beyond that - it's also a question of what's left for people to do, if they can't make things?

Anyway, he looks over at Michael, frowning slightly.

"Should there be? I've thought about it a lot, and I still don't think there's anything else I could've done," he says, worrying his lip slightly before continuing. "But I did try to, um. Break a law older than the gods themselves. And I did it. And I'm not sure it was a good idea."

Who was he, to think his love meant the cosmos should bend and around it? Was it selfish to do what he did? He thinks about Clarisse telling him that Kronos broke out of Tartarus, some time long after he'd passed into legend. What if he'd done something to weaken the veil between the Underworld and the world of men?

(All around them, the workers stop, the pounding of machinery slowing to near silence as they glance at Orpheus's retreating form, then at each other. One by one, they rise from their stations, and begin to echo back Orpheus's song.

"If it's true what they say
What's the purpose of a man?
Just to turn his eyes away?
Just to throw up both his hands?
What's the use of his backbone
If he never stands upright?
If he turns his back on everyone
That he could've stood beside?"

And Orpheus stops with his hand on the door, and turns, eyes wide and shining with confusion that quickly turns to determination. Setting his jaw, he nods to them, touched and overwhelmed by the gesture, and sings;

"If it's true what they say
I'll be on my way
But who are they to say
What the truth is anyway?")

"What're laws for?" Michael laughs. The head of the Good Place says: do crime!

But he sobers a moment later. "Oh, I guess you're not wrong. People really can't just go returning to life whenever they want to - that would be pretty bad down on Earth." Sending anyone back sets a bad precedent: once you've done that, how are you going to justify not doing it for others? But then, Michael's already set that precedent four times over. "I'm not saying he owed it to you to do what you wanted, I just think he should have at least been nicer about it."

He was definitely owed...a decent reception, at least. A bit of kindness, even if you can't ultimately grant his plea. Though, as far as that goes...Michael chews on his lip for a moment, before admitting:

"I would've done it, though. I just don't see how I could not." Really, practically, Orpheus is right. It'd be a huge mess, and he really shouldn't. But geez - Michael just isn't sure he really has it in him to look at a human who moved heaven and Earth like that and just turn them away. He's been in similar positions too often himself.

That does get a little smile out of Orpheus - never the most vocally anti-establishment out of all Hermes's retinue but who'd always had leanings - though he sobers up too when Michael does, nodding.

"I appreciate that?" he says. "Knowing that you would've - and, even if it wasn't a good idea, it's done, now. There's no changing it. And I think what matters most, in the end, is that Eurydice and I can be together here."

(Memory-Orpheus continues to rally the workers, raising his and their voices in call-and-response ("Is it true?" "Is it true?"), while all the while the faintest traces of muffled argument filter down from the office above. Suddenly, the factory whistle sounds and the doors fly open, revealing Hades, a fire of grim fury in his expression. In a panic, the workers scramble back to their stations, singing;

"Oh, keep your head, keep your head low
Oh you've gotta keep your head low
If you wanna keep your head, huh
Oh you've gotta keep your head low
Keep your head keep your head low
Oh you've gotta keep your head low
If you wanna keep your head"

Meanwhile, Hades descends the stairs from his balcony, watching them all the while, before turning his attention to Orpheus.

"When I was a young man, like you
Son, I was abandoned too
By the one who took my hand
When I was a young man

"Now it seems that you've made quite a strong impression on my wife
But it takes more than singing songs to keep a woman in your arms

"Take it from a man no longer young
If you want to hold a woman, son
Hang a chain around her throat
Made of many karat gold
Shackle her from wrist to wrist
With sterling silver bracelets
Fill her pockets full of stones
Precious ones, diamonds
Bind her with a golden band
Take it from an old man")

Michael just shrugs. He's aware that his own thoughts on the matter don't count for much. It's over now, he'll never be in charge of them that way, and his own world is such that this will probably never happen to him. He was mostly just thinking it through for himself. "Sometimes you just have to do things that are bad ideas," he agrees. "Like this...this riot, or whatever you're forming here. I love this, this is fun!"

But it's probably, practically, a bad idea. Hades' appearance just bears that out.

The sudden sharp whistle startles Michael, and he throws out an arm as if somehow expecting to protect Orpheus from something. But it's just that guy again. He relaxes, watching the whole display sharply. Blah blah blah...romance?

"Ohhhhh. Oh, this is about his personal problems. Well, that makes a lot of sense." Isn't that just typical?

Orpheus nods, brows furrowed in concern as he watches the workers at their stations. "This all started because of Lord Hades trying to keep Lady Persephone down here for too long. I told you their story right? I think it was the first time we met?"

(His memory-self calls out to them, again, and a few scattered voices still rise to meet him, echoing his song despite their overseer standing there glowering.

"If I raise my voice"

"If I raise my voice, if I raise my voice"

Still others try to shout their work song over it, almost scoldingly. "Keep your head low!"

"If I raise my head"

"If I raise my head, if I raise my head"

"Keep your head low!"

"Could I change his ways?"

"Could I change, could I change, could I change his ways?"

"Keep your head low!"

"If I raise my voice could I-"

"Keep your head low!"

"Could I change the way it is?")

"He's lonely," says present-Orpheus, watching Hades's face carefully. "He thinks he's going to lose Lady Persephone, and he's trying to win her back the only ways he can think to. But it just drove her further away."

"...I guess it must be hard," Michael grants after a moment of thought. "Six months is nothing to something like us. It's not that long to wait, but then he hardly gets any time with her at all." How would he cope, only getting to see his friends in brief fragments? That's barely enough time to get used to having someone around before they're gone again.

Not that it makes it right, of course. But you can understand someone's motivations without accepting them as correct. God knows Michael's had his own stupid reasons that felt justified at the time.

He's mostly watching the workers with interest, but he remains with Orpheus. "But he should talk to her. It seems pretty obvious that she doesn't really like this."

Orpheus nods, worrying his lip.

"It's - terrifying, knowing that the person you love has gone somewhere you can't follow them. Knowing they choose to go, even if their reasons are good," he says, quietly, very deliberately not looking at Eurydice in a way that makes it obvious that's what he's doing. "And I guess he thought, maybe one day Lady Persephone would break their agreement, and stay for good. So he decided to break it first."

(The workers, meanwhile, have started to rally again, turning to each other and pulling one another away from their stations.

"Why do we turn away when our brother is beaten?
(Low, keep your head)
Why do we build a wall and then call it freedom?
(Low, keep your head)
If we're free tell me why
I can't look in by brother's eye
Keep your head-"

And then Persephone is back again, descending the stairs after her husband and grabbing Eurydice from the sidelines. Her eyes are full of fire as well, determined and steely but possessed of a ferocious compassion all the same.

"When I was a young girl, like you
This old world was younger too
We set it spinning hand in hand
Me and a young man
Now you see what he's become
Hades with his heart of stone
I forgot what true love was
And then I heard your Orpheus
Take it from a woman of my age
There is nothing love can't change
Even when the bricks are stacked
Love is blooming through the cracks
Even when the light is gone
Love is reaching for the sun
It was love that spun the world
When I was a young girl")

"Marriage sounds exhausting. Don't know why immortals would go for it." His type certainly doesn't. But then, maybe that's just a societal thing and Michael is profoundly aromantic, who knows. He's just musing, anyway; he's not necessarily opposed to romance existing or anything? It just seems very complicated a lot of the time.

He watches Persephone, listens to what she has to say. She seems kinder, at least. It's a shame about her husband. "Really ought to talk to each other. We're not good at that, as a rule. Feelings stuff." What is it about immortals, anyway? Maybe he's generalizing, but it sure seems borne out by experience. "Does she still like him at all? Maybe she should stay up there."

“It can be? Exhausting, I mean,” says Orpheus, thoughtfully. “Sharing your life with someone else that closely takes a lot of work, but it’s worth it, for the right person. I’d think it’d get lonely, living so long without someone with you like that?”

Hopeless romantic that he is, and being someone who’s felt an incredibly profound romantic connection and then lost it and had to mourn it, it’s difficult for Orpheus to imagine not wanting that with all your heart. He tries, though, thinking.

“Oh, but you have your friends, for that. The thing is, I don’t think Lord Hades has anyone else? Maybe if he did, he’d be more willing to see Lady Persephone off.” He frowns, glancing at the two of them glaring daggers at each other. “They do love each other though. It’s just - it’s hard. They’re not talking or they’re not listening, like you said. I think she has a better grasp of why they’re coming apart than he does - she’s still in love with the man he used to be, but she can’t see how to stop the man he’s becoming.”

(Eurydice, back in the fray, looks over the situation - at Orpheus, staring down Hades, at the workers, rallying each other, at Persephone, looking at her expectantly, and raises her voice. Looking up, the workers begin to echo her as well.

“If it’s not to late”

“If it’s not too late, if it’s not too late”

“Could I still have time?”

“Could I still have time, could I still have time?”

“Can I change my fate?”

“Can I change, can I change, can I change my fate?”

“If it’s not too late, can I-“

“Keep your head low!”

“Can I change this fate of mine?”)

"Yeah, I've got plenty of friends. Even if..." Michael trails off, thinking for a moment. He doesn't like thinking about losing any of his friends, really. But it's possible. It's happened, something that never seemed quite possible when he only existed in the afterlife.

"Amara was one of my closest friends back in Deerington," he says finally, a thoughtful frown on his face. "I still miss her a lot. But I've got other people here. I do wish she were around, but I don't need her here to be alright. Oh, does that sound mean?" He's not sure; he didn't intend it to be. "I just don't see how you could put all your eggs in one basket like that."

Granted, he's a pretty big extrovert. He'd probably be unhappy with just one close friend even if they never did leave. "I see how it's depressing, though," he adds. "Their whole thing, not just the bullshit he's doing to the humans. Although that one's definitely worse." He really can't stand when immortals take out their personal issues on humans, especially humans who are actively in their care. You hate most in others what you hate about yourself, after all.

"Right," says Orpheus, frowning in sympathy. "And I mean - you're not supposed to. Put all your eggs in one basket, I mean. It's not fair to your partner to do that, or good for you. And I don't think it sounds mean, to be okay even though she's not with you. It just means you have a different kind of relationship with her, than Lord Hades has with Lady Persephone, or even than what I have with Eurydice."

And he doesn't even mean that in the sense of romantic or not, either, though he doesn't think to articulate that. Some people are just willing to be more independent from the ones closest to them than others. It's a sliding scale.

The workers continue to rally around memory-Orpheus, standing from their stations and raising their voices.

"Why do we turn away instead of standing with him
Why are we digging our own graves for a living
If we're free tell me why
I can't even stand upright
If we're free tell me when
We can stand with our fellow man"

During all this, though, Lord Hades's patience seems to be waning, and noticing this a handful of the workers cry out in one last warning.

"Keep your head-" Only to be cut off as he joins back in, the raw power behind his voice enough to drown out all of theirs easily. Present-Orpheus flinches, whipping around to watch him, even though he knows what happens and what's about to be said.

"Young man, I was young once too
Sang a song of love like you
Son, I too was left behind
Turned on one too many times
Now I sing a different song
One I can depend upon
A simple tune, a steady beat
The music of machinery"

Michael folds his arms, still looking thoughtful and perhaps a little downcast. "I used to think I couldn't be, without my friends from home," he muses. "They were the first people I ever cared about. First ones to ever care about me. I used to feel like it'd be the end of the world, if they were gone. But then I went to Deerington, and then here, and...I guess life goes on."

He misses them horribly. But he's made new friends, too. Sometimes it feels a little like a betrayal, but what else can he do?

Honestly, Hades coming back into things is a welcome distraction. "That's stupid. Who cares about machines? He really needs to talk this out with someone."

Orpheus is probably not the best person to talk to about moving on from loved ones lost being healthy and not a betrayal at all, but thankfully(?) Hades is here to help. He ascends the stairs back to his balcony, slowly, his piercing sight on the workers and Orpheus below him.

"You hear that heavy metal sound?
The symphony of Hadestown
And in that symphony of mine
Of power cords and power lines
Young man, you can strum your lyre
I have strung the world in wire
Young man, you can sing your ditty
I conduct the electric city"

And on that last, bellowing line, all the lights in the factory go out with a great, shuddering bang. All the lights in the city go out, leaving them all in pitch darkness. When they slowly flicker back on again, Hades is back on the factory floor, holding a stool and striding towards memory-Orpheus with a mixed look of bemusement and annoyance on his face.

"I tell you what young man, since my wife is such a fan
Seems I'm gonna count to three and put you out of your misery
One!
Give me one more song
One more song before I send you
Two!
To the great beyond
Where nobody can hear you singing
Three!
Sing a song for me
Make me laugh, make me weep
Make the king feel young again
Sing!
For an old man"

He slams the stool down and sits, leaning forward with a critical sort of interest. Before anything else can happen, though, there's a banging at the tall factory doors, and present-Orpheus looks up with no shortage of confusion.

"Um, I don't remember that? Hold on."

He hurries over and pulls them open with some effort, revealing a truly massive white stag, its antlers grown into a massive wreath over its head. It ducks low enough to step into the room and, gazing around at the memory - now frozen in place - snuffles softly before kneeling down and looking at Michael and Orpheus.

"Oh," says Orpheus. "I guess that's it? I can tell you the rest of what happened, if you want, but I'm guessing he's here to take us back to Trench."

"Woo!"

Is it inappropriate to cheer in delight when Hades does his big dramatic thing with the lights? Unfortunately, either way, Michael can't really contain it. That was great!

Doesn't change the fact that Hades is an ass, of course. Michael glances back at his frozen form and shrugs. "You can tell me if you want to. But don't feel obligated." Ordinarily he'd be curious, but truth is, he feels like he knows enough about this - from old myth, if not just from speaking to Orpheus and Eurydice themselves. He certainly knows enough to understand that the story might be painful to relay. "Not the first time I've been sucked into someone else's memory," he says, reaching out a hand towards the deer. What are they meant to do here, exactly? "I know it's weird."

Maybe the tiniest bit, but Orpheus seems to get a kick out of Michael's enthusiasm, laughing a little after the initial surprise of his response wears off. He approaches the stag with a polite caution, hand outstretched and palm up for it to examine. It sniffs at the two of them and, seeming to approve, gestures over its shoulder with a toss of its head. Smiling, Orpheus nods and climbs onto its back, holding a hand out to Michael to help him up.

"It is weird," Orpheus agrees. "But - what worked in the end was getting them to try to talk about it, like you said. Or at least reminding them of how things used to be between them, and letting them decide they wanted to try working on getting back there. I don't know if it'll work? It hadn't been that long, when I went back after the end of the Dream. But I think it will."

Eternal optimist that he is. Someone has to have gotten their happy ending out of all of this.

"Oh, this is what we're doing?" That's rhetorical; Michael accepts Orpheus's hand and pulls himself up behind him, though he does look slightly doubtful about riding the deer.

If he's honest, the fact that Orpheus might have helped Hades with his marriage makes everything that much worse. It gets a little complicated when you venture into the territory of owing people things, outside of the basic respect and consideration he believes everyone's entitled to. But at the same time - someone helps you, you ought to be grateful. You ought to help them back, not sabotage their marriage in return, right? Maybe he wasn't owed a reward just for getting here, no matter how impressive it was, but that's just basic reciprocity.

And that trick about not looking back? That's just petty and mean. It's exactly the sort of thing Michael probably would've done, once upon a time.

"Well, I guess that's good," is all he says. The doubt in his voice is pretty clear, though.

[002] tell me everything that happened

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