deercountry | 07 . march/april catchall

[ There are skeletons on the stage. They seem to be nice skeletons, doing whatever routine sounded hilarious at the time: dancing Spooky Scary Skeletons, probably. Drumming out percussionist backing on their own ribs with their bare, bony fingers. Rattling around red-eyed and menacing; shattering spectacularly for the karate demo.

Their conductor is at the bar, drinking something lurid and fruity, or something comedically basic, or whatever the bartender felt like handing him to make him shut up. When you sit, he turns to you and raises his drink in welcome. ]

What'll you have?

Just a beer. Not picky.

[anna smiles at teacher when she approaches in a worn fall out boy t-shirt and some artfully ripped jeans. she just finished up a small set, going through some of the things she'd been practicing (including a much more heartfelt rendition of "this is why we fight" that certainly didn't have anything to do with finding a very specific reason to fight recently), and had even decided to join in the skeletons with a quick bass-and-vox rendition of "spooky scary skeletons". thanks, teach.]

So. We made it through, huh, Sensei? [a sly grin. she never promised not to be a weeb about this. she sits down next to him and leans forward on the bar, her metal arms crossing in front of her.] Guess we've got some stuff to catch up on.

[ She's already killing him, and she hasn't even sat down. At the first notes of Spooky Scary Skeletons he pressed a hand to his mouth like a man overcome with emotion at a wedding. Now here she is in that shirt, calling him Sensei, and he will never make it through this conversation alive. ]

Good work up there, by the way.

[ There is something sad and genuine in his smile. He turns to wave down the bartender, orders her a pint— there's not a lot of selection, but it's beer— and then tips his drink to her as though calling on a student. ]

My reputation has occasionally been known to precede me. Let's start with: what do you know?

[ What did Gideon tell her, alongside John? ]

[she's gotten better at accepting praise and thanks him quickly before the conversation can continue. that first question honestly feels pretty easy, because, well. it's a short list. though she's keeping an eye on the things he's doing that aren't verbal, and she's pieced together a lot more evidence for her little pet theory.]

Well, I know the thing that got us here in the first place. I know that you know memes from at least as recent as the beginning of last year, back home—'cause obviously something like "2021" doesn't mean anything here. I know that you know what "Spooky Scary Skeletons" is. [sorry, teach. that was a bit of a trap on her part. even if it was fun to do. she grabs her pint as it comes out and takes a casual sip. it tastes like piss, but it'll do.]

But as far as cold hard facts go? I don't know much other than what you've shown me and the one word that G said. But there's some other things I've got some suspicions about. [she doesn't break eye contact with him, but she's at least quirking her lip up.] Think we might be on the same page there.

[ When she confirms her year, his eyebrows quirk up, but there is no more response in him than that. It is a more complicated shift when she says the one word that G said; when she won't even breathe it aloud, for his benefit, not knowing that it is holy.

He aches at the earnest innocence of it. She has no idea what great and yawning gulf she stands at the edge of. She thinks he's full of shit, and she'll keep his secrets anyway. ]

It's true. [ He splays his hands like a man caught out, like a confession. His tone is gravedirt-dry. He is clearly fucking around. ] I tried to marry a boy on the swing set when I was eight. It's about the person, you know? I hope this does not impact our friendship.

[something else she knows is that if someone is keeping information about themself private, they're doing it for their own reasons, and ones that she may or may not ever be entitled to know. and if she somehow stumbles across it, and it really is that big of a deal, then it's her responsibility to keep that secret safe. it's only the polite thing to do, after all.]

[even if she does think that this one specific secret that teacher is keeping is extremely silly.]

[she laughs, knowing that he's fucking with her but not really caring. she can tell through the leadup that he's not gonna give her the answer to what she implied, but it doesn't matter. they're friends, right? and it's at his pace anyway. it barely seems like she's holding any tension in her shoulders after that.]

All right, that answers my question. Now that I know you're into boys, we just don't have anything in common anymore, do we, Teach? [she can fire back with the best of them, she thinks.] Except the other thing. The thing that I'm pretty sure you're very interested in convincing people isn't true. About where you're from.

[ He flashes a grin into his drink, and for a moment it seems it might be genuine— at least halfway genuine. He does like this. He does like her.

It's funny coincidence he hasn't been forced to have this conversation until now. It's been building since the moment he washed up on these shores and saw the shapes of the city. It has built in every familiar tune, every shared joke, every flare of unexpected connection— his call-and-responses suddenly answered, which always crack him through like a bullet between the eyes. The silence has lasted so long he does not know what to do with the noise. This thing in his chest is so great and terrible he cannot begin to breathe around it.

So he says it like it's simple. ]

Where I'm from isn't a great drinking story. [ He sets down his glass with a click. The sound is sharper and more real than his smile. ] That world died a long time ago. Songs and swing sets and all. It was a slow death until it wasn't, and then— well, nobody walked away.

[ It's not even really a smile, anymore. He has a good poker face, after ten thousand years. But it's never been put to the test against Spooky Scary Skeletons and a girl in an old band shirt, and the weight around his eyes is an old agony. ]

When something dies, you shouldn't keep dragging out its name like a ghost. That's what I've always thought.

[ah.]

[it's the last part, really, that makes everything come together. why he doesn't want to be called by an old name. why there's been this increasing sense of unease in anna's chest with the stupid references from back home. she meets his eyes again, but there's weight behind hers that's not easy to carry.]

If you want me to stop reminding you every chance I get, I can try. But the thing is that it's all still alive, where I'm from. Despite everyone's best efforts, it's still there. It isn't a dead world, it's just... my world. [she doesn't just want to say "my". her drink is going untouched, but that's fine, too. this isn't something she thinks she can interrupt.]

If I'm being honest here... when I first started getting the idea, I was pretty excited. Because there's people I know here now, sure, and people I care about and whatever, but, like. If I was right, you would've been the only person left around here who really gets it. [ugh. is she manipulating him by talking like this? fuck. she hopes not.] But I didn't realize how complicated it was to get reminded of that place. I can see it in your eyes.

[ I can see it in your eyes.

He shuts them. He exhales a breath, a hah, like he's been punched. For a long beat he is silent.

She doesn't know what she's witnessing. She doesn't know what it's worth to see God flinch. That alone is dizzying, a loss of solid ground; before this, he might open his eyes to see everyone on the floor, panicked, a great and reverent distance between them and himself. It was like a comfortable dream. If she tried to touch him now he might stop her heart just to get the breathing room.

This is all uniquely difficult. ]

Don't worry on my account. [ He opens his eyes, dark and inhuman as twin black holes; he steadies his grip upon his drink; his expression is more tired than anguished. ] It's bittersweet, you know? And it's not just you. It's all of this.

[ He spreads a hand, vaguely: to the stage, the people, the beer. ]

This place has a different opinion on how we should treat our ghosts.

[ He can't bear for it to be her world, absent of his claim, any more than he can bear to have it paraded out in front of him. He has kept every song and joke and memory in his heart like a shrine. The Pthumerians grind his nose into it every other minute, and the pressure builds, and builds, and builds. ]

[all anna knows is that she knows nothing. all she sees is a man who has lost everything being very, very gracious about what information he shares with someone who is convinced that she does not deserve it. when he closes his eyes, she looks away, and only glances back once he gestures out to the rest of the room. and the specific words instill something in her; she realizes that it's time to share some of her story, as well. to extend him that same grace.]

There's another dead world out there. I don't know what it's called. It might be Earth, ten thousand years in my future. But there's a ghost from that world living inside of my body. [she extends her own hand towards him so he can see the matte black metal more clearly, as though the part where she'd used her own body as an amp hadn't been clear enough.] It's why I look like this. The place I'm from... it saw all these ghosts from different, dead worlds, and it decided to give them new life in people like me. Regular people from Earth turned into vessels without knowing. Without having a choice. [now, she thinks, she can take a drink.]

I left the city before my body became a lot less of a timeshare and more of a permanent residence, but I know she's still there inside me. And I've had time to get to know her and realize that she's not all that bad of a ghost for me to live with. [and once she's done with this quick history lesson on the past six years of her life, she brings it back around more carefully. no eye contact this time. she's just watching him from the side as she asks.] I know this is probably a big question, but... how did your ghost turn into the person I'm talking to now?

[ He doesn't even flinch when she says Earth. But now that she's looking for it, she might see the flicker of anguish, the there-and-gone tightness around his eyes.

It's a hell of a story. Metaphysically fascinating, raises as many questions as it answers; there's a lot to unpack. His eyes track the movement of her hands, the curves of sleek black metal. But he just raises his drink and says: ]

To ghosts, then. And learning to live with them.

[ He drinks, while her final question hangs. Finally, when God sets down his drink with another too-real click of glass on wet wood, he looks at her again. ]

That one's an even worse story. [ It's not even really a smile, now. The curve of his mouth is bleak and remote. It highlights the black and empty eyes; it makes him look less human. ] I'll make it short: I got up again.

[ Again, the silence hangs. ]

I seem to collect titles. The First Reborn... The First Necromancer. I learned how to wake everyone else back up, too. And we built something new in the ashes.

[that is. a lot of space between his words, for a lot of thoughts to run free. she's grateful that he'd taken a moment for a toast before baptizing her in this lake of forbidden knowledge.]

[she's watching him carefully, sees the way he shifts—the way it seems like she's talking to someone who is very, very clearly not the same as her. they have similarities, yes. it would be foolish to pretend they don't. but she sees the way it hangs on his mouth, in his eyes, and she recognizes that she was wrong in ways that she wasn't able to fathom ten minutes ago.]

[anna is not a stupid woman, no matter how much she may lean into it for the bit. she knows what this confession means. but she also knows that flat out saying it might give it more power than it needs. and, frankly, it doesn't need any more power.]

Careful, Teacher. [she talks in a low voice, just barely behind her own glass. she would love for her eye to not be betraying the surprise that she's feeling. it would make for a very cinematic moment indeed.] Talk like that makes people call you God.

[ He cracks a smile. This one, at least, can be called that: wry and ancient, but there's humor in it. The air between them is heavy and still. He splays his fingers like ta-da. ]

Be not afraid.

[ He sits back, then. He sets his hand on his glass and traces patterns in the condensation. He pretends not to see the look in her eye. ]

Of course, it was a different playing field, back home... the pantheon's a little more crowded, here. I'm not even playing second fiddle, I'm playing, what, fourteenth? Sorry for the lack of lightning.

[well, thirteenth, but she can save her latest bit of revelation about mother mercy for a time when everything else is slightly less revelatory. so this is another god, then. it fits with everything that anna's done so far here. she just doubted she'd ever find communing with one so... normal. until she's sitting here, letting a god buy her drinks and talk about the world he's left behind.]

I've got enough lightning for the both of us. Turns out telling the Moss King that he can suck your dick is enough to get that extra-large lightning bolt you need to get back to shore.

[this does change things. it shouldn't, really, since he's always been the one with the power and the only difference is that she knows about it now. but it does. now she can approach these conversations with that knowledge, and with intent. and as she thinks back to the last conversation they had in person, she tries to break some of the ice forming between them. it's hard to tell if it will actually work.]

You just stood there and let me say all that stuff about the gods watching me put on a show. You son of a bitch. [she smiles, hoping that it's enough to cut the tension without hitting any hanging swords.] So did you already know that we'd make it out okay, or does it not work like that?

That gambit worked?

[ The smile warms and brightens. He dips his head as though chagrined, a sort of You've got me there, and picks up his drink again. A little of the tension eases, by degrees. ]

In my defense, it was very funny. No, I don't see the future. If only. My domains are life and death... and the places in between. Flesh, bone, spirit. Time is still free to kick my ass.

[anna shrugs with the sense of "yeah, idk what to tell you", but she and the boat are both back safely, so yeah, it definitely did work. there's more, though, and she thinks back to another conversation that she'd had about things of this nature recently.]

So are you one of Paul's sources? Because I had a very interesting conversation with Paul recently about magic soul bullshit, and he wasn't willing to share any names. [if he is, she doesn't need to lie. if he's not, she still trusts him enough to go into more detail. how could anyone with the life philosophy of "in my defense, it was very funny" be untrustworthy?] I talked to him about the idea of nudging a couple of souls that are already intertwined just a little closer together. That still fall under your domain?

You're in luck. Magic soul bullshit is my middle name. [ Wedge it in between Jacob and Jingleheimer, he doesn't say. ] That was almost certainly about me, so here's hoping he said good things. Yeah, I could have a look at that.

[ More like a melange, less like a Lyctor. Only moderately heretical, really. ]

Getting to be a bit of a mouthful, Jingles. [she says it from behind her beer, nursing it as she is. perhaps it's disrespectful to reduce the true name of god to that.]

But that's good. When I actually figure out what I'm looking for, I'll hit you back up. And if I'm honest, the only one I've ever heard say anything bad about you is G—and, like, even then she just said she didn't think you were that cool. [that does raise some questions, though. with the context of gideon, and what teacher needed to do in the immediate post-apocalypse. she lowers her voice again, an easy tell that she's about to talk about something more serious.]

So all of them. Gideon, Harrow, Palamedes. Did you raise them from the same ashes as the rest of it?

[Johnny's just finished with the karate demo and ushered his kids off into the night. They didn't need to see him drinking and doing his thing on his down time. ~~They were going to deal with the drunken aftermath as was expected.~~ He catches sight of John and takes a seat next to John and nods when he turns his way.]

What kind of question is that? Whatever beer doesn't taste like piss.

[He actually gives a grin.]

Thanks for the skeletons by the way. Made the whole thing totally badass.

[ God returns the grin with a little smile, a real flash of amusement. This guy's energy really is infectious. He can see why Gideon's so into it. ]

Happy to help. But I'm just the props guy, you're the one making bone shrapnel.

[ He raises his drink to Johnny, then waves over the beleaguered bartender. Selection's kind of limited, in a climate like this, so here's hoping Johnny can tolerate the pint that gets set down in front of him. ]

How goes recruiting?

[Look if there was one thing Jonny had it was love for what he was doing and we he was willing to give credit where credits due.]

Nah man. I'm basically in the same boat as you. The kids are the ones crushing all the bones up there. I just taught them how.

We both enabled them to pull that shit off.

[Johnny thankfully is kind of used to the beer being shit here. He may make a face briefly when he takes his first swig but it doesn't last long.]

You know? Better than I expected once I got set up here. I figured in a place like this people would already be pretty fucking badass. And I mean that's not wrong either, but they're also looking to improve on what they already have and become more than that.

It's pretty awesome.

[ This is some real feel-good stuff. Johnny makes a face at his beer and then carries on, practically glowing with pride, and John smiles softly into his own drink. He has seen Gideon launching into stances and strikes alongside the skinny, elegant lines of Paul; he has seen Sayo karate-chopping skeletons with the same fervent intensity he's always caught off her in glints and flashes over a strategy game. It lights them all up, each of them. ]

Don't undersell yourself. If they're flocking to you, there must be something to it. In a place like this, we could use it.

[ It sounds like he means the fighting skills, but what he means is the morale. ]

[Johnny takes another swig of his beer to hide how proud of himself and his students he is. It doesn't work though and there's a big shit eating grin on his face when he turns back to John.]

Okay, fine. You go me, I am kind of a badass. I can't say I know why they're so attached. I'm just bringing out what's already inside them.

Who knows? Maybe that's enough to get them all motivated. It must be hard living in a shithole like this and where ever else they came from.

They could just need someone who gives a shit. You know?

[ Oh, he could take that as a dig, if the guy weren't so obviously in earnest. God doesn't even say Ouch. Wrangling traumatized teenagers can't just be a one-man job, and being God makes parenting tricky. These are the things he tells himself. ]

Seems that way. If there's one silver lining of this place, it must be that we have a good group. Even Godzilla didn't stand a chance, in the end.

[ Not very kind of him to bring that up, maybe, but it's relevant. ]

07 . march/april catchall

at the raccoon room.

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