o5 . bone house mingle!

[necrolord]

Who: necrolord and CR!
What: Several teens move into the horrible necromancy mansion, and sometimes they bring their friends.
When: Early March.
Where: Bone House in Gaze.

Content Warnings: Skeletons, discussions of death and grief, violence where marked, vomit where marked. Note all the usual warnings of this character.

Comments

[frogfear]

I guess that depends a little on the god. Some of them really aren't as complicated as they'd like you to think. At least, not where I'm from.

[Willow is unaware of their host's status in his world, so the Pthumerians aside, there's only one god she's ever encountered, and it was hardly difficult to understand Glory's motives when she had made it perfectly clear what she was after.

She gives him a smile and a little nod as he introduces himself.]

I'm Willow. It's nice to meet you, Paul.

[terriblepurpose]

It's nice to meet you, too.

[It's not the way that people greet each other on first meetings back home. Paul turns the words over in his mouth for their soft novelty. It is nice to meet her, he decides.]

We don't have any gods like these ones where I come from. You do?

[Paul knows who their host is. It's been a point of contention between them. He's not sure what it is now. He is sure he's curious about what she might have to say, this other stranger in God's house.]

[frogfear]

[Willow considers for a moment whether or not she wants to acknowledge the Pthumerians as gods, or more like an extremely powerful type of demon. If Paul wants to call them gods, she decides, that's fine. He probably knows more about Trench that she can remember at this point anyway.]

It's, uh, mostly demons and vampires and stuff where I'm from. We had a hell god once, but she was pretty clear about her motivations pretty quick. We managed to stop her, though.

[terriblepurpose]

You stopped a god?

[Paul straightens up under his blanket, and the quiet intensity that floods his oscillating voices isn't disbelief that the slight, gentle-seeming woman in front of him had that capacity.

It's respect. It's interest. It is, for some reason, like he's just had a question answered.]

That must have taken some doing.

[frogfear]

Yeah, it wasn't easy.

[It had been a costly fight, and a very near miss. Glory had been defeated, but Buffy had sacrificed herself to save the world, leaving the rest of them behind to grieve. Grieve, and find a way to bring her back.]

She would have destroyed the whole world though if we didn't. So it's not like we had a whole lot of choice. We had to stop her.

[terriblepurpose]

Of course. I wouldn't question your motivations.

[Paul raises his hand palm out, a gesture of reassurance whose meaning he hopes will hold in her culture as well. He drops it shortly after, in case it doesn't, and goes on.]

It must have taken courage and skill. [His voices are softly admiring.] And, it sounds like, a collection of heroes.

[frogfear]

[Willow smiles and shakes her head. The gesture holds the same meaning for her, but it's not needed.]

We did what we had to. A friend of mine back home is destined to fight evil - demons, vampires, and so on. The rest of us just did what we could to help her. Or, do what we can to help her would be more accurate, I guess. It's not like that world's stopped just because I'm here.

[It feels odd to consider - she knew going into the ocean that her world at home would carry on as though nothing had changed even though she chose to come to this one, but it was also part of her decision not to go back. Moving on felt like the best way to be as helpful as possible.]

[terriblepurpose]

[Destined to fight evil draws a troubled veil across Paul's expression, paints a thin crease between his brows. He knows enough of monsters to be able to imagine what that might be like as a burden.]

She's lucky to have people by her side. I wouldn't say that's 'just' anything.

[There's too much feeling in the words. He swallows visibly, throat working around a snag.]

Do you know it hasn't stopped? I know that's what people say, about how it's meant to work.

[frogfear]

She's my best friend. I figured out in high school what I really wanted to do with my life was help her.

[It's said fondly. Willow doesn't regret her choice at all in helping Buffy, in spite of the times it's been dangerous, or terrifying.

To his question, she nods. She's not sure which answer he would prefer - is it better to think of time just stopped at home, or would it be kinder to believe that it carries on like he never left? ]

I heard it from Cynthia - uh, the Moon Presence - in the dream. I don't think she'd lie about something like that. She liked us too much for that, and I think she'd want us to be able to make our own choice on that based on the truth, you know?

[terriblepurpose]

[There's the question of faith, again. Does Paul have it in the affection-rooted honesty of a woman he never knew, who ascended to an alien godhood he does not trust, relayed by a stranger? He knows what the world wants his answer to be. He knows the answer changes nothing.

Maybe he's too young to imagine the world going on in his absence, no matter what the evidence suggests.]

Moon Presence does seem to have our interests at heart like few of the others. [He can allow that.] I suppose it's not that important, under our current circumstances.

Like a few things - I've kept you a while, haven't I?

[Kept her a while, and probed her with a series of unimportant questions. It's not exactly polite.]

[frogfear]

[The Moon Presence is the only one of Pthumerians she is willing to trust, only because of their interactions in Deerington. Is she still Cynthia here? Willow would like to believe so. She certainly still seemed to be herself on the beach between worlds in spite of the change in her form.]

I think she does, yeah.

[Worrying about what's happening at home might not make much difference here, but it's understandable. It's difficult not to think of the people, and the home, left behind. She takes comfort, though, in the knowledge that things are carrying on as they ought to in her absence. None of her old friends even realize she's here.

That part feels a little less comforting.]

It's fine - we can talk whenever you want. This isn't exactly an easy place to live from what I've heard. But maybe we can all make it a little easier for each other.

[terriblepurpose]

[There are moments of fleeting possibility for Paul where the idea of putting his faith in something seems less impossible. Willow has caught him during one of them. He may not trust the Moon Presence or its fellow Pthumerians, but maybe he can let himself, however briefly and confined, trust Willow's offer.

It's a nice thought. It coaxes a faint smile from him again, along with a nod.]

The same to you, for what it's worth. My room is the one on the left upstairs, if you need anything.

[frogfear]

Thanks. I, uh, don't actually live here. I'm just staying in the guest room for a couple days.

[Or until she figures out where exactly she really lives, at least. She's hoping it won't take too long.

Maul aside, it's not too hard for her to trust other Sleepers. She's quite used to them all having to band together against the horrors Deerington exposed them to, and from what she's heard so far, Trench isn't so different.]

After that, you can always drop me a message through the network too.

[terriblepurpose]

I'm a guest, too.

[The way Paul smiles when he says it doesn't make it all the way to his eyes, but perhaps that has to do with their glow obscuring the subtleties of expression otherwise possible. They're guests alike, pulled from the water to dry off and find their feet, and there's an obligation Paul sees in that.

And she seems kind. He has a soft spot for kindness, and for trust, even if he so often lacks either quality - or because of it.]

Of course. I'd like that. [He pulls his blanket closer around himself.] I think I'm going to lie down for a while. Let me know if anything changes about the mushrooms. It was good to meet you, Willow.

[If she has nothing else to add to that, he'll ascend the stairs to curl up on his side and rest his throat, eyes half-lidded as he drifts between the present and the future. He wonders if he'll see her in the latter, and what he might see if he does.]