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?

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[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.

[Yeah, nope, he doesn't get this joke, sorry Anna. He shrugs, like, yes? Like that, sure thing. But moving on already to A2 the android from 10,000 years in the future. Anna's future. Which— god, but she all but says it outright when she brings up timelines, and if he doesn't learn anything about pre-Resurrection life in the next hour he's going to dissolve into this chair.

He shakes his head, anyway, not willing to interrupt; no, there are no androids in the Empire's war games, as far as he's aware. He didn't know what they were until he got here, which seems like proof enough. Although who really knows in this goddamn Empire anymore, huh!!!!

He's calm. He brings a hand up to his chin, thoughtful, because it still doesn't sound like anything he's ever heard of unless he forces Anna's circumstances to fit where they aren't meant to. Hmm.]

Body? Physically, your body? [no okay that one sounds kinda lyctor-y but android lyctors still aren't things, whew...] I think if you were, to be gauche, literally haunted, you'd have figured it out by now. Coexistence with a revenant would have too many adverse effects, including how most of them are absolutely raving.

[hmmMM--] I've never heard of resurrected souls going... somewhere else, but then again, we aren't taught anything more than "there was a Resurrection, ooh, praise be"— so, utter tosh. It... might be possible. What trips me up is the number; you said only a few hundred, which is monumentally narrow. I'd be wondering where the rest are.

That's the thing that got me too, right, like. If these are full on planets being destroyed, then why was it only, like, less than a fraction of a percent of the people on those planets getting reborn into bodies from Earth?

[she shakes her head, because obviously she doesn't have the answer. she never could have it, no matter how close she got to the top of the chain with her legitimately very cool boss, zee carlisle.]

Maybe it's all coincidences. I'm not sure. I don't know how much I'm willing to believe in coincidences after A2, though. I mean, what are the odds that a girl with shitty controlling parents who love everything about military history and combat tactics and stuff is gonna end up resonating with a literal tin soldier programmed to follow every military order she's given?

[to take the edge off that sentence, she takes another drink while she waves her hand, dismissing the whole idea of what she'd just brought up.]

Anyway. You said they don't teach you anything more except that the Resurrection happened. Ever wonder about any other secrets of the old world that our Bonelord in Chief might have been keeping from you?

[That sure does sound like somebody's idea for a novel, Palamedes thinks. He makes a face, nodding lightly, like yeah - beyond the realm of coincidence, but where are the other people? Surely they can't all be clogged in the River.]

The odds are astronomical, certainly. I'd argue something about compatibility of your souls if not for the equally astronomical number of souls still unaccounted for in this scenario.

["robots have souls probably, for sure" - palamedes 2022]

As for the pre-Resurrection world— only academically. I run a Library, but I'm not a historian, necessarily.

[But okay, okay.]

Why, what are the good ones?

[as he contemplates, she just offers something casual in return.]

I mean, that's probably it, you know? Soul compatibility. Only person who'd really know the metaphysical situation behind it all is still stuck at home, running the company and maybe doing some therapy sessions on the side.

[she could bring up clarence, the man responsible for turning a host of apocalypses into survival of the fittest. the time-traveling eugenicist who she never saw the face of. but why would she do that when there's some perfectly good goss to dish.]

I mean, it depends on what questions you have, you know? A lot of my stuff's gonna be limited to the First, or Earth if you wanna talk in my language. The Sixth—Mercury—was always too dangerous for any of us to go to, and I don't even think we landed on it with robots by the time I got here. Lots of people were interested in colonizing Mars—that's... [she hums and references her infographic, pointing at the red planet.] If I had to guess, the Second.

Probably because humanity was slow-cooking Earth in its own atmosphere and people just wanted to call it a wash, jump ship, and try again somewhere else instead of actually fixing shit. [she speaks dryly.] That doesn't sound familiar at all.

[He shrugs, conceding her point with a nod. Yeah, soul compatibility, and just forget whatever happened to the other billions of souls, he supposes - it's not like it's going to come up as a clear cut, valuable answer now, probably.

Which, speaking of—]

I don't know what I should be asking about, [he says, and it's genuine; the First— Earth is so old and ancient and separated from everything he's ever known that he really doesn't know where to even begin. It's a curious shade of overwhelming, and he taps his fingers against the side of his glass in an idle motion, trying to think of - something.

(He does react to 'Mercury,' at least, a brief furrowed brow and the quirk of a grin as if to say, what? That's what they called it back then? Something quaint about it, almost.)

He thinks about 'slow-cooking Earth' and eventually comes up with,]

I've been to the First. Not for very long. It was empty. Even the house we stayed in was essentially a— [god, fucking-] -an open tomb.

[Honestly, it didn't fill him with a powerful urge to learn about life there before the Resurrection, but then again, he didn't think he'd ever meet someone (someone actually pleasant) who was there. He can remember standing in the open air with Camilla and taking it all in—light, water, breeze. It felt more alive than it was.]

Why 'Mercury'?

Named after the messenger of the Greek gods. Supposed to have winged shoes that make him fly way faster than anything else, and if I had to guess, the people who name the planets did it because it's probably got the shortest year, so you'd see it zipping through the night sky way faster than the rest.

[she sighs, though, because she knows what happened to earth. the other planets might still be mysteries, but she can just. assume that in the very near future that teacher is from, humanity just fails. they continue to do nothing, and they watch, and they wait, and they fail.]

I don't know what our beloved Emperor did to Earth after the apocalypse we made, but humans... I don't know. I wanted to believe we were better than this. I wanted to believe we could course correct and keep our home habitable, but all the scientists have been saying for years that we're just going to turn it into a big, uninhabitable dead zone. We used to have water, trees, cities full of people, and now the buildings are probably the only things still standing. Or they will be, I guess, by the time my now becomes your past.

[another heavy sigh. she needs a drink after that one; she takes one and runs her other hand through her hair while she's doing it.]

Christ. Anyway. It really did used to be just this... amazing place, Earth. Don't let me get you all depressed about it. [let her hold all that instead.] We had this forest near where I grew up and sometimes I would just head out there and stretch out on a big flat rock and think about things while I stared up through the canopy of leaves. [she turns her attention to her omni.] Give me a sec, I can probably pull up some pictures of what it all looked like.

[The who. Palamedes shrugs, having no idea who any of those are supposed to be, and not really comprehending why the Earth people would consider the years a different length instead of just picking a standard and calling that A Year, regardless of where the planets are at any given time? Perhaps the Empire had one thing going for it.

He thinks, instead, about the idea of killing a planet through negligence - not the way a necromancer might kill a planet, a terrible thought he's still not sure he can dwell on without going into a catatonic rage, but just by not caring about it. The Sixth - Mercury - may have been a shitty little rock before people lived on it, but if people live on it because they broke Earth...

It makes him a little angry. He'd never breathed unrecycled air until Canaan House. People in Trench look at him like he's insane when he says he'd never seen a real tree, or that the sun simply does not rise on the Sixth or they would be dead a million times over. The First had so much glittering blue.]

There's still water. Honestly, there's more water than I knew to expect, and you can see the First sometimes from the view screens at home. Not— it isn't blue from that far, of course. But the water is still there.

[He gives her a brief smile, a little crooked and strained, like, this isn't helping. Anyway.]

Your pictures...?

[it was helping more than anna wanted to let on. there's still water. if there's still water, then there's still a chance for life, because humans have never once been the only thing on the planet. still, she seems distracted looking through pictures. none of them have her face in them; she's barely been outside recollé before now, much less to the places she's pulling up. but she knows what she likes.]

Here. [as she talks, she scrolls through each of the pictures.] This is what our cities looked like. This is Tokyo, one of the densest cities in the world. That's Tokyo Tower, and Mt. Fuji watching over it in the background. A lot of people don't think cities are beautiful, but... I don't know, they're what I've basically always known.

The next one's the Grand Canyon, that's a little west from where I grew up. If anything's still there on the First, this probably is. Then these last three are from Germany, where I was born. The first one is this place overlooking the Swiss Alps. Then we've got the Devil's Bridge in Kromlau, and the Saar Loop in Saarland. I never spent much time in Germany, so I never got to see any of this myself, but I always kind of wanted to go back one of these days.

Gonna have a damn hard time getting through the metal detector at the airport now, though. [that's a joke for her.] But yeah, I mean. This is... what Earth used to look like. At least the parts of it that I know about.

[Oho, pictures. He shifts his glass to the side so he can lean in and see the pictures, marveling at how- how different it all is? He'd seen only a sliver of the First, and he's sure ten thousand years have done their due diligence on the things in these pictures even without the apparent huge problems with the atmosphere, but still:]

I've never seen so many places in my life. The Sixth is— you know what it is, it's a rock with no atmosphere. Red dirt as far as the view screens can see. This is-

[He gestures at the pictures a little, hm, helplessly almost, still not entirely sure how to comprehend a place with so much variation. The Sixth is home, and all things considered it's a better place to live than other places in the Empire, but it's a burn little marble sitting too close to the sun; he's never looked at the view screens and thought it beautiful or particularly compelling. His gaze lingers on the Grand Canyon; even the endless stretches of dirt on the First - on Earth - put the Sixth to shame.

Huh.]

If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were fucking with me. I don't— God, the number of people, right? The numbers go that high. I'm flummoxed!

[flummoxed. he is tho.]

It's beautiful, though. Your Earth.

Yeah. Yeah, it's... really something.

[she spends a little extra time looking through things once he's gotten the idea. all these places of beauty that she never got the chance to see herself. it makes her wish, all over again, that she could go back, and now that she knows she can do it safely without running the risk of losing A2... maybe one day she'll be able to. the wistful nature of her gaze, she's sure, is creeping into just those few words. her attention shifts back to palamedes.]

Hey. I know it's not very likely, but if something happens here that... I don't know, gives us all glimpses of the places we came from or something. Lets us relive things or go visit our homes or whatever. [she knows that pthumerians work in mysterious ways. she should never count anything out. and the smile on her face as she offers is beyond anything she's shown so far. it's friendly, kind, open, and so genuine. maybe a little reminder of the beauty of the world is all she needed.] I'd be glad to take you along so you can see some of this stuff in person. Call it a research trip if it makes you more comfortable, but I think you just deserve to see this stuff up close.

Oh— the portals, but in reverse, maybe?

[Offered with lightly raised eyebrows and a little grin. He doubts they'll be able to reach their homes properly, not permanently by any means - but the thought of a visit is nice. The thought of wandering around any of the places in Anna's pictures is a little overwhelming, in an exhilarating way— imagine, to touch down on the First in its heyday. No Warden of the Sixth has ever managed that one, certainly.]

Thank you, though. That would be... I'd like that. I'm not sure you'd want to see the Sixth, but if you like, our view screens and the copper garden are big hits with guests.

[Everything else is grey corridors and locked laboratory doors, after all. Dark storage rooms, locked boxes.]

I'll bring my thickest notebook, if we get the chance.

Hey, I wouldn't mind being the first person from old Earth to set foot on Mercury. I'd love to see everything you've got to offer.

[this isn't the first time she's made friends with someone ten thousand years in her future, but it's certainly the most enthusiastic one. it had taken her months to get on A2's good side.]

So is that what being a Warden is all about? Taking notes on everything, kind of being the keeper of the lore for the whole House?

I'm advising you now, don't get your hopes up in any context beyond 'sentimental value,' unless you're interested in shades of grey.

[Just being realistic about his bland boxy home. Warden stuff, though, that's much more interesting for... nerd reasons?]

Technically, it's the Warden. The Sixth keeps the Library, including the pre-Resurrection archives, but most of that is lyctoral texts that are preserved such that they will outlast the heat death of the universe and all of us in it, so— don't ask me what they all say. I've only seen a handful of scraps from the immediately post- era, myself.

[Including but not limited to some fucked up shit, a love letter, and something mentioning an "EJG" that he has at least one meaningful theory about and none of the drive to go and ask.

Anyway.]

Scholar is our more common title, which you could consider named for the specialist; making Scholar is essentially— leaving school, if you aren't Cohort-bound. It's a broader, general title. Archivists are, obviously, what they sound like. Minutiae aside, we're fairly literal about the meanings: Warden is akin to a supervisor of sorts, not unintentionally named in order to associate with the sense of the prison.

[You know, normal Empire things!]

So in short: yes, like being the keeper, of the lore and everything else. Becoming Master Warden is an arduous process with a veritable mountain of exams practical and otherwise, but I had things I had to get done that only the authority of Warden affords. [A beat; he sips his water.] I'm in charge, more or less. Or I was, before I was here.

[lyctoral texts, huh. that's certainly an important-sounding word. it's a shame he doesn't know what they say, because, well. odds are she'd understand them better than he would, right? still, though, as he goes into the breakdown, she has to admit there's a certain sense to it. she nods along.]

Well, Warden Sextus, I think it makes a lot of sense why you're called that. I mean, if you're protecting these things from right after the Resurrection, they're obviously pretty important to the empire, right? And—allegedly, at least, don't get me fuckin' started—but you lock stuff up in prisons if it's a danger to society. Right?

[she sips her beer like she's just caught a canary. which is a mixed metaphor but the point is she's smug about it.]

Sounds to me like if any of this stuff got out there, it could cause the whole solar system that our beloved Emperor took for his own to crash down around him. Someone like you could do some serious damage if he wanted to.

[Ah; so it's this line, is it. He frowns at his glass, thoughtfully, then:]

I see what you're saying, and I hate to disappoint you, but I doubt there's anything like that hidden away on the Sixth. Somewhere else, maybe, [and his gaze flicks up from his glass of water very briefly, very pointedly, like maybe has she consulted the other local Imperial citizens about this? hm?] but the things in our archives have been read. An Empire that lasts ten thousand years doesn't leave its smoking guns lying around in a library; even a highly protected, helium-sealed one.

[The Sixth has always been called the Emperor's reason, a moniker Palamedes has assumed, based on his own instincts and those of everyone he's known from home, to be a tongue-in-cheek way of acknowledging that their long-late founder said "no" a lot. He doesn't know for sure and he's certain he never will, because God is a liar and his Saint refuses to say anything directly, but still:

Historically, people have read the contents of the Sixth archives, and no one back home was ever so devout as to write off an obvious damage-doer as "just part of the Emperor's grand plan," or anything.

There's something else.]

Someone like me isn't going to crash down an entire solar system to prove a point. Don't get me wrong, I can't stand the man, and a person only needs to be called an unfinished inbred by the Empire's most lovingly devout once to think, hm, maybe religion isn't it for me? But there are people I won't gamble with, there and here.

[He holds up his hands, like, hold on;] Still, it's not as hard as you think to push buttons. Just tell him you don't want to be in his special club of people whose lives he claims ownership of and he'll nearly eat his own tongue.

[PM sounds like he's had to refute this idea before, and maybe the line that anna's found is one she shouldn't have crossed. but he talks her through his protests very civilly, in a way that she can understand, and in a way that doesn't... immediately sound like she's offended him. so she's more than okay with just leaning back a little more and removing that whole concept from her mind.]

[she does suppose he has a point about long-lived empires leaving their worst crimes out in the open. her own only made it about 250, maybe 300 years tops before the kindly prince took it out.]

You know, the more you tell me about him, the more he starts sounding like the last guy I knew who made such a big fuss about God. Wonder if he's got some rebellious dyke of a daughter who fell in love with a mysterious woman who taught her how to live, too. [pause for laugh.] Man. I don't even wanna think about this bastard having sex. I'm sorry I brought that one up. But he sounds like a total fucking control freak.

[she leans in just a little more, resting her elbow on the table and letting her wrist hang limply. it's like she's sharing just a tiny little secret with him.]

Tell you what, dude, I would've been ready to kick his ass just from all that stuff you just told me. Even if he weren't some self-made emperor, some jackasses just deserve to get their shit handed to them.

[gee it would be weird if that happened twice

Palamedes sips his water, expression even. He isn't offended, or even particularly irritated; but Six for the truth, and so on and so forth. There's value to be had in putting his cards on the table frankly, without qualifications. He wouldn't lie to her and hem and haw around something of this magnitude, after all; best for everyone to be on the same page from the getgo.

Which is why he more or less told God to eat shit with all of his control freak Lyctor garbage, but at least Anna seems less likely to murder him out of pettiness.]

How many people do you think about having sex? [pfft. he holds up a hand,] No, never mind; that line of thinking stays firmly within literature circles.

[horny book club]

In any case: I see what you mean. I don't disagree, I just— [Hm; he drums his fingers against the side of the glass, frowning. He recalls listening to the Lyctor list her reasons for all her murders, her endless sins, as though she were justified and interesting about it, and he thinks, Is that not God, in miniature? Was she not an insufferable piece of shit in His image?

One time, he often thinks, is enough. He says,] Well, I've never kicked anybody's ass. I don't know how good it'd be for me, you know, emotionally.

[oh, thank god he's not going to make her think about the bonelord supreme doing some supreme boning. she will take this small favor and she will run with it for as long as PM lets her. which is roughly as long as it takes him to say he'd have some sort of emotional problems kicking someone's ass, and she nods.]

No, I get it. I mean... you should've seen me when I was a kid, you know? You think I jump to that answer now, I was a goddamn terror when I was younger. [with just a small hint of pride, she smiles and points at an incisor.]

That was the first baby tooth I lost. Some asshole punched me in the face 'cause I wouldn't let him call my little sister a weird nerd. [there's not a lot of pride in it anymore, or rather it falls off quickly.] But she never threw a punch herself. Never wanted to. Some people aren't built for it, but they're still some of the most interesting people I've met, you know?

Like this one guy, for example, has a literature circle where he talks about people banging.

The Sixth's literary canon is very vigorous, [he says by way of explanation, for that last bit. Just wait until he quits his minister job and becomes a smut peddler full time, that'll be a day to remember.

He makes a face for a moment, a thin smile, because somewhere in there whether she meant it to be or not is the implication that not throwing a punch is uninteresting, at least for other people. Palamedes has met those other people. Camilla threw more than a punch, for emphasis.

He holds up his hands, fingers spread, like Well...]

Well, I don't profess to sainthood, or anything. [ha HA ha] I've done my fair share of violence and wanting to do it, make no mistake. I'll own that.

[He runs through his mental shortlist of things that could inspire him to Do a Violence again, and:] For me, it would have to meet at least two criteria, bare minimum: first, it's personal; second, it's a last resort.

Mmm. [she nods again.] Yeah, I get that. I definitely think you could throw some hands if you needed to. I just hope nothing pushes you that far, you know? Way I see it, people with rules like that set 'em for a real good reason.

[something about still, nerdy waters running deep. though maybe she's reading too far into things again. whatever, it's not important, ultimately. or at least she's convincing herself it's not so she doesn't end up probing too deep into the life of someone who might not be ready to reveal it, whether with questions or assumptions.]

Real glad you're not above telling people to piss off, though. You craft one of those well enough, you can cut deeper than any sword. And in the meantime... well, hell. You much of a storyteller? 'Cause I think if it's not gonna be bringing down an empire, you probably have some lore in your head that could at least be good campfire fodder.

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you can keep on getting better [open]

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cw climate change bleakness + fatalism

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