deercountry | you can keep on getting better [open]

Entry tags:

you can keep on getting better [open]

Who: Anna Amarande and you!
What: May catchall
When: May
Where: A bar in Cellar Door, other locations to come

Content Warnings: Light alcohol use, conversations about humanity and murder, blood, vampirism

a. if you want, you can buy yourself a drink [at the bar]

[anna's made plans with a couple people to hang out this month. it's not a tense environment at all, and sometimes she can even be seen on the tiny little stage playing some chilled out bass grooves for the patrons. no concrete songs, really, mostly just improv for vibes. when she's not on stage, and most of the time she's not, she's nestled herself down into a booth down near the end. it's quiet, well-lit but not obtrusively so. people around here know her and know that that's basically her seat, so any conversations that happen there are as private as they're gonna get.]

[she's expecting a few people to show up as she nurses a beer that's so weak she might as well not be drinking anything at all. probably for the best that she's sober for these talks, whatever they end up bringing with them.]

Hey. Glad you could make it. [she tilts her drink at her guest.]

b. no you'll never drink like me [for kainé]

[there's always been a few problems with going out and hunting beasts, no matter how confident and comfortable it makes anna feel. no matter how many lives she saves, she's always putting herself at risk of corruption or injury or beasthood or all three, and one of these days it's gonna sneak up on her. all at once, extremely loudly and incredibly close.]

[anyway, when she comes back home this time, it's clear that she's been in better shape. she limps her way into the house, and she's at least cognizant enough to fix her roommate/girlfriend with a sheepish little look as she holds her side. the cloth there isn't dripping yet, but it's clear that it didn't start as red as it is now.]

Motherfucker out there got the best of me. [she's talking like she's not in pain, or like she's trying very hard to pretend she isn't.] I think I stopped most of the bleeding myself. Don't suppose we've got anything here that can help seal it up before I go to the doctor?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[you know, anna wasn't expecting him to have exactly this reaction, but she's glad to see palamedes here at all since she knew that inviting a nerd to a bar like this may have been a risk. she fixes him with a pleasant smile.]

Not bad, yeah. Definitely prefer meeting here instead of out on the island of crabs that eat people. [she takes another sip of her drink; it's not much better the second time, but oh well. she lays down her arms on the table when she's done, incidentally showing a pattern of notes on a piano roll etched into the metal of her right forearm.]

How about you? I know I brought my note-taking vibes. [she taps the domed surface of her omni, sitting on the table next to her, so it can project a keyboard and screen.] So I'm ready to get into catching up on stuff if you're in the mood.

Here I was thinking I should fetch a crab to bring along with me. Visual gag, you know. [Ha ha. He glances at her arm- ooh, the thing!! And he genuinely doesn't know jack shit about music, but he'll circle back to that in a second.]

I've been well, honestly. [Did he spend a day weeping involuntarily on his bathroom floor because he dared to look in a mirror in his own home? Yes. But nobody died, so, pros outweigh cons. Things have been decent.] And I am always in the note-taking-slash-sharing mood, so please- let's. But first—

[A nod, down at her arm,] You got it done; what is it of?

I got it done. [she's still getting used to it, but she runs her fingers along the lines and smiles.] It's a melody from a song that me and my ex used to listen to. About two people in love who are just waiting for each other to be in the same place again, before they both realize it can't happen and moving on with their lives.

[she underlines the etching and sings the melody softly. la, la la la, la la la.]

Sorry. I know it's a little dramatic. Probably a little more like something out of one of Ortus' huge-ass missives than you'd expect from me, but. [shrug. she's not defensive about the choice.] Sometimes a bitch gets sentimental.

Oh, no, full dramatics, please; I'm always on board with sentiment. [He waves a hand a little like, yes, always be dramatic, that's far better than the alternative, which is to be super boring. He thinks, also, that Ortus' missives would be a lot more subtly horny, but nobody needs to roast Ortus' crush on a dead historical figure right now. Maybe later.]

In any case, if it means something to you, that's the point, isn't it? Ergo: nice.

['Hell yea sentimental body art' - Palamedes Sextus 2022]

One more thing before catching up, can I ask— you mentioned knowing someone with an expertise in, mm, bodily machinery, didn't you? Is that person here? I made a friend with a handful of synthetic augments that might need a contact eventually.

Oh, it means a lot to me. [that is a joke for her, and one that PM certainly does not know that he teed her up for. it's stupid, though, and she moves past it.]

Oh yeah, uh. Dirk Strider is his name. He did a post recently talking about, like, LGBT stuff and the whole concept of coming out. Haven't met him in person in a while, so I don't... actually know if he's still around. [she looks down at the surface of her beer with a frown.]

Feels like a lot of people returned to the sea recently. And not a lot of people are coming back, like you did.

[If there's a fraction of a second where Palamedes glances to the side, like maybe he's thinking 'come out of what?'&madsh; well, ignore that. The Jod-future is fucked up but at least nobody cares who's doing who unless it's politically and/or magically obscene.]

I should read more posts; it's been hectic. [Hmm, and the other thing, more somberly,] That would be a shame, if he were gone. I don't know what it is about me that inspired the sea to spit me back out over someone else; someone could write a paper about that, if they figured it out.

[definitely not himself... nah... no...... maybe.]

That's as good a bridge as any into catching up, I suppose.

[sounds like someone might write a paper about it. could use Never Mind as a primary source, but she doubts the pthumerians are talking about stuff like that. anyway, it's not her business; gods work in mysterious ways.]

Guess so. So... while you've been gone, I've been learning a little more about your Emperor. Or whatever name he's going by today. [she knows that this is a pretty bad way to start a conversation, especially without giving any context towards how she feels about him. or receiving, really, any context about how PM feels about capital-J god.]

And he's the reason I'm changing up the way I think about the people who have the power. Not interested in getting all cozy with them anymore. Starting to think some of them are better with a little distance.

[Oh, Palamedes thinks, and then, so he's giving people names to call him now. He wonders if he's given one to Harrow, or to Paul - for personal reasons he does not think about what he might have asked Gideon to call him, lest he shrivels up in disgust - and then puts that aside as not exactly the important thing here.

(Well, he does note that he seems to be giving out more than one name, which is fascinating. A little ancient note mentioning an 'EJG' comes to mind, and if 'E' is for Emperor... anyway.)]

Well, he's a presumptive prick, [Palamedes says, taking a generous sip of his water to give that time to sink in. Some necromancers do not fawn over God, and other fun stories.] I'd have advised you to keep your distance if I hadn't, you know. Been busy.

[been eaten by a sea monster.]

Can I ask what changed your mind? If it's too absurd to conceptualize putting out there, don't worry about it; I'm on your side already.

[no, it's fine. she wouldn't have listened at first anyway, so maybe it's... for the best that he got eaten by a sea monster? no, that can't be right. anyway. she breathes out like she's trying to sort through her thoughts. there is a clear catalyst, and she still feels strange talking too much about it. but she doesn't want to leave it to something as simple as "vibes" either. but she also wants to protect what teacher has told her.]

[for some fucked up, demented reason, she still feels some base level of responsibility for those secrets. even as she's about to speak on why she feels like he doesn't deserve it anymore.]

I've seen... a lot of loss in my life. In my face and in the faces of others. I've seen it on gods, and on other things that shouldn't have human expressions. Things that, you know, don't experience emotions the same way as we do. [she thinks she can discuss this clearly enough without going too deep into it. still, she lowers her voice, like the specter of the liberator of death still haunts this place.]

I know what it looks like, is what I'm saying. It's one of those things that's probably universal. But I don't see it on his face when he talks about the things that he's lost. I don't see it in his eyes, not the same way. [she closes her own eye and lowers her head.]

Maybe I'm reading too much into it. I don't know. But I'm starting to think our Kindly Prince might be full of shit in a couple different ways.

[It's sympathy that Palamedes feels toward her in an instant; sympathy, not empathy, because he has never known some great and terrible powerful force that did feel earnestly the loss of ages, and so he cannot conceptualize what it would be like to know someone like that. He frowns, considering his cup of water, and he feels for her; regardless of the man in question, it's a painful thing to believe one thing about a person and then be proven so thoroughly mistaken.

He wonders if there's guilt in it. There shouldn't be, but even Palamedes can admit a kind of guilty shame in realizing he was wrong about the things his own home told him were inexorable truth.

So. Well.]

He took me back to his house the day I woke up here again, before I transformed out of the squid body. He fed me tea and biscuits, and made kindly overtures about sharing his notes, and apologized for what happened to me here, and back home.

[Then he frowns, because, ugh-] I couldn't find an iota of sincerity in it, personally. If he was genuine about a single thing back then, it was being mildly annoyed that I wouldn't let him own my problems.

[Or himself, but he doesn't know what Anna knows about Lyctors and their relative position as "God's things," and he doesn't want to drag her into that other, separate mess. He leans his elbows on the table, shrugging.]

I told him I'm not interested in doing tricks and dying for him, so, you know— whatever. [or: he might not have repeated all this now if he hadn't already told God in so many words to fuck himself and his apologies.] So I think I know what you mean.

But... [Okay, he'll get to that. He gestures for her to go on, instead.] What are your next moves?

[this is. a relief. it feels like there's a valve in her chest that PM has helped her pry open. she's not alone in these doubts. she doesn't have to be the only one wary—not reverent, but cautious towards the king undying. she doesn't have to do this alone, which is what drove her so close to him in the first place, isn't it? just because someone understands the same memes as you doesn't make them a good person, amaranth.]

Next moves? [she looks up and repeats it like she wasn't thinking about it until palamedes mentioned it. and she idly runs her finger along the rim of her glass.] I didn't have any. Not yet, at least, but I have... I don't know. I need more information first. I have a couple ideas that I can't ask him about. [the condensation on her glass is starting to disappear, but she still trails a line down the side of her glass.] So tell me more about what it's like on the Sixth.

Fair enough. Think about it; I'm good for another ear, whenever you need one. Not that I'm seasoned in the art of— [he waves a hand,] -doing anything about the likes of him, you know.

[As far as the local necromancers from home go, here in Trench, he is the bottom rung; he's fine with it for a smattering of reasons, but it's true that meeting and thereby deciding he doesn't like that dude has been a recent development for him, too.

Without the memes. He skipped the memes.]

The Sixth is... familiar. Gives me context. But you want to know what it's like to live there, so: fine, for all intents and purposes. We're in a sealed environment and preoccupied with our own projects until one of us has to ferret out the rest from our respective holes in the wall to sign a few papers; it's a world of cagey academics. I'm using that term loosely, "world"— our population has been steadily decreasing, thanks to lack of foresight in necromantic matches.

[The familiarity makes up for a lot, though, but-] All things considered, I'm coming around to this place.

Uh huh.

[as he describes things, she shifts her attention to her omni screen so she can take some notes on what he's saying. when he's done talking, she readies an image, but doesn't display it for him quite yet. that would be spoilers.]

Lack of foresight, huh? Is that more of the Emperor badly pretending to be sincere about preserving your House, or is there something else about the Sixth that makes that hard? Like... I don't know, do you guys need special equipment to go outside of those holes in the wall? Maybe the surface is shitty and inhospitable or something?

We didn't pay attention to the bloodlines and ran out of viable matches. There are charts and tables for reproduction, these days.

[He shrugs and sips his water; they fucked around and found out, literally. He's even on those charts, not that it matters anymore for a whole host of reasons, least of all that he's sitting here in this bar and not anywhere on the Sixth.

That said,] But we do live on a barren rock too close to our star to not melt our faces off in a heartbeat on the sunny side, that's true as well. It's more or less tidally locked, which solves that problem; our Library sits in the polar ice cap. We don't go outside at all.

[Guess That Planet]

[she doesn't have to.]

[with a nod of understanding, she pulls up an image she's been working on and turns her screen to face palamedes. she's only learned a few things from her conversations—that the sixth and the ninth are as far as can be from each other, and what palamedes just told her confirms it. and the other label may well be the most educated guess she's ever made.]

Does this look familiar to you? Even in broad strokes.

[she is watching for a reaction like a hawk.]

[Well, it's not every day that someone whips out a fun infographic of this, hm, caliber. Palamedes looks at it with a raised eyebrow, glass raised again, and - huh. For a moment he'd expected something off topic, somehow, but - huh.

He puts the glass down without taking a sip and squints, leaning over the table a bit further. It's the little blue one near the Sixth that does it for him; Viktor asked him questions about the First and all he could come up with was 'the water was pretty.']

Sure. [His gaze flicks over to the tiny Ninth, then back.] He wouldn't have told you all this.

He didn't have to.

[that statement alone might be enough to give something massive away, or at least something that feels massive. it's PM's reaction that makes her recognize that weight. this is information that people probably shouldn't know she has, but there's no way to hide it from the one person with the power to do something about it. it's only because she trusts palamedes when he says he's not on the emperor's side that she feels comfortable sharing it at all. it makes the tension in her shoulders loosen up, even if she feels like she'll be speaking more quietly the longer she remains examining this contraband with palamedes.]

The one thing I can't figure out is why they're out of order. [she points at the crude replica of the sixth house, first in line among the other houses.] The Ninth is in the right place, but you'd think you would be from the First, right?

[The Sixth part of him, the born and bred academic and Master Warden of the Library is absolutely reeling. Not a single person here has listened to him prattle on about the Sixth and responded with anything besides "that's strange," and here she has a fucking infographic that she just made. Not filled in, but he supposes that isn't the point; she knows where the shapes go.

That the Emperor is a liar and a chronic manipulator hasn't surprised Palamedes in the slightest; that there could be people here, in Trench, from a pre-Resurrection society, on the other hand— he bites the inside of his cheek hard, torn between the thrill of discovery and the self-directed irritation that it didn't occur to him sooner.]

I'm from a sealed-in cake tin on a rock that melts bones, hardly viable; the First has water. [Idle, like, of course conditions on the other planets are all kind of trash compared to the one that has water. Not that anyone lives there anymore.] They're numbered in resurrection order.

[god help her, she grins. it's just one side of her mouth and she doesn't part her lips, but this... this is big. this is big, and for once, it feels like she's gotten a leg up on the king undying. it's like if she decides to ever act on these doubts, she'll have a whole ream of information to back herself up. and she'll have, she dares suspect, the support of one of the biggest knowledge-keepers she knows.]

[the grin fades, though, as the meaning of palamedes' words sets in.]

I thought it was just the First that had something happen to it. Nobody lived on the other planets. Why did he have to resurrect them?

To start his own stupid Empire and go to war for the next myriad? I don't know. It was ten thousand years before my time. There's only so much that can be extrapolated from ancient Lyctoral texts, and that's with the highest clearance into the Library a person can have.

[He makes a face, mouth a thin line, as if to hoist a lifetime of frustration with all that business onto the table with a mere look. He resolves not to get distracted explaining the inherent value in paper and how he knows why the rules exist, but that doesn't make the secrets less tantalizing, and drums his fingers on the table.

Back to the topic at hand.]

Why resurrect a planet. Something to do with necromancy, I assume; we don't work in open space, and if nothing lived on a planet before... a similar problem? [A beat. Wry:] Or he just has bad aim.

To resurrect something... [she's trying to think of why he would do such a thing, why he would need to, but to do that—even with what PM is filling her in on, to focus on what the first necromancer gained from resurrecting planets is missing the point.]

It has to be dead first, right? Obviously. They might not have had anyone living on them, but they were still as alive as planets really can be. An atmosphere of poisonous gas on this one, a storm that never stops churning on this one.

[she sits with the implications for a moment. connects dots. comes to a conclusion that probably isn't exactly right, but it's close enough for now. she frowns. she hasn't taken a drink in a moment, but takes one only after she asks palamedes one thing.]

He already knows part of what I'm about to say. But can I tell you something in confidence?

[Palamedes takes a moment to linger in the private amusement of God having bad aim, as much as God having bad aim would have truly bleak implications for the Sixth— for everywhere not the First, honestly. If the other planets were an accident, then the rest of the Empire hasn't ever mattered.

He doesn't think it was an accident. He also doesn't think the rest of the Empire has ever mattered in a way that extended beyond things to have. Back in the Emperor's study he'd apologized, and named Palamedes a Lyctor without even a breath of the eightfold word, and he'd looked annoyed when Palamedes had told him no— but only for a moment, like dealing with a child that doesn't know better.

So no, he doesn't think the Emperor's reason (haha) is that deep, all things considered.]

Of course, [he says, closing his hands around the cold sides of his glass, still leaned forward into this little conspiracy. Better than thinking about what happens when someone kills a planet.] I can keep a secret.

[if that's what he's looking for, then she won't be much distraction. because first comes the part that the emperor already knows:]

There's a second soul living inside of me. One that comes from another world, one that met its end. I never knew how, and I never thought to ask. I don't think she'll know if I try.

[for her, this is something easy, simple. something that she's lived with for years that's become a fact of her world. for others, especially if she's not mentioned or glossed over it in the past, she knows it's something bigger. she can suspect, dry jokes about god having bad aim aside, that it's of interest to palamedes. and she likes him, and she doesn't fear him, and that will make it easier to discuss later. for now, she puts her palms flat on the table, then curls up the tips of her fingers just slightly.]

He knows that. What he doesn't know is that back home, there were a couple hundred people like me. All from planets that reached their ends. A whole host of apocalypses, as terrible as they were sudden. Nobody ever figured out why it happened, or what caused it.

[her implication, she thinks, should be clear. does it make logical sense? not really. and yet, is it that far of a stretch? was A2 not resurrected in a new form within her? god, she wants to be wrong.]

[She has a what!!! Palamedes carefully doesn't make a face, carefully does not betray anything in his expression throughout her whole explanation. That in itself may be telling, after his open surprise about the infographic, but there are some things he's just not willing to leap forward into assumptions about before he knows the whole story. Or as much of it as possible.

Where souls go when displaced is one of those things. It's absolutely staggering, the thought of hundreds of people housing displaced souls from - from a handful of their own armageddons, and he doesn't miss the implication. He could not possibly miss the implication.]

You should understand that I, personally, don't know anything about the act of resurrection. Only he does that. I can tell you my best educated guesses, but first I have to know about your second soul. She's distinct from you?

[Enough to ask her things, at least. He considers that not a Lyctor, but-]

A soul that meets an abrupt and violent death becomes a revenant, a— a ghost haunting a thing. They're not necessarily violent and vengeful themselves, [ahem,] although it's the most likely scenario. There's a possibility that your second soul follows this kind of pattern and not the one you're thinking of.

[And it would probably be better for, like, all the people involved if those couple hundred extra souls were just revenants finding an unlikely bunch of homes. Ethically.]

But it's not impossible that resurrection was involved.

[see, like. okay. this is easier to talk about. this has just been her life for the past several years and she can talk and joke and explain as much as possible, and she has no problem with it. and she can tell that this is a big deal from... well, from how it doesn't seem like one. through tremendous effort, she's sure. and this might be, now that she thinks of it, the thing that drew the emperor's attention to her in the first place. if he could tell without her saying it, well, that's certainly something interesting enough on its own.]

A ghost within a machine, maybe? [she offers a sly look, but it's gone fast because the joke's really not that funny.] She's someone else, yeah. An android named A2 who was fighting a forever war 10,000 years in my future. Don't suppose you've heard of her.

[and though she says that dryly, like it's rehearsed, the words quickly catch up with her.]

Wait, holy shit. There's actually a chance you might know her. The timelines work out, and if the Emperor is trying to wage war and strengthen his empire... [she sounds downright conspiratorial for a moment, then gives it another flash of thought and lets go of the possibility.] No. I think I'm hearing hoofbeats and thinking zebras. Sorry—anyway, no, like. No, A2 isn't violent, or at least it's not all she is. But she changed me as a person in a lot of ways once her soul started living inside me. Body, brain. [she pokes a finger at her chest.] Heart, too.

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