simulsimul | another thing; w/ fafnirs and skeletonenigma; cw for suicide talk

['Not' is near enough to 'no' that Kratos gets the gist of that one, and the rest answers his question sufficiently.]

Human.

[He repeats that thoughtfully in English, then again in Tethe'allan, and comes back to Skulduggery. His gaze is probing and thoughtful as he looks at Skulduggery and Skulduggery's frankly ridiculous outfit. Skeleton, for what had obviously been bones; presumably the word for a complete bone structure of an organic being. Kratos nods toward him.]

Skulduggery. Human skeleton?

[Or is he the skeleton of something else? Their scans had shown human mana, but there had been so much of it that if there's any other sentient beings on the planet, they hadn't been able to tell from Derris-Kharlan.]

[Skulduggery doesn't answer right away, surprised yet again. When he does speak, there's a smile in his voice.]

Yes. Human skeleton.

[Which implies Kratos is familiar with skeletons, but not with human ones. That is, if Skulduggery's being perfectly honest with himself, a little terrifying.

He gestures at Kratos and asks the question before he can think it through too much.] Are you human?

[He looks human, but so do vampires. So do angels, as a matter of fact, apart from a select few obvious differences.]

[The question is obvious, and if only Skulduggery knew what a loaded one it is. Kratos answers without hesitation and a firm nod.]

Yes.

[An angelic human, perhaps; but still human. This is a distinction he's blurred too often, for too long. He does not intend to forget it again. An angelic nature, for him, should always be secondary; and it's the great tragedy of the crimes perpetuated on the other angels that their previous natures had been completely consumed by lifelessness.

[For a moment Kratos stands, half debating. He has mixed feelings about both hiding and revealing his angelic nature. He had done both, and always in the wrong moment. He does not want this to be a situation where he does the opposite of what he ought, as he has for so long. Skulduggery did not have to reveal his nature, and it seems if there's anyone on the planet with a strange state of being, it would be a sentient skeleton.

[It's Skulduggery's honesty which decides him. Kratos adds:]

Human angel.

[Ah. That answers that, then.

If Skulduggery pretends this is an entirely normal thing to discover about someone, he can almost carry on as though nothing just hitched the thoughts in the back of his mind like a tyre bouncing over a deep rut in the road. Angel. Human angel. Not a fact, not quite yet, since there are probably deeper explanations neither of them can give voice to for now. Human angel implies the existence of angel angels, after all. Angelic levels. In the grand scheme of things, Skulduggery still doesn't know as much as he'd like.

He's still quiet for a touch too long before speaking.] Just so you're aware, I'm only giving you the benefit of the doubt because you don't like tree angels.

[The benefit of what doubt, exactly, Skulduggery doesn't say. It's not as though Kratos would understand.

By this point, they've reached the Bentley, and Skulduggery gives it an affectionate pat before unlocking it and opening the passenger door for Kratos.]

Flying tends to attract attention. This way, you can read.

[An angel dropping into the middle of Dublin at Christmas time. Just Skulduggery's luck.]

[The length of Skulduggery's silence does not bode well, but at least he keeps walking; Kratos can work with that. He follows Skulduggery in silence. Although Kratos can't understand the words when Skulduggery does speak, there's an element of dry resignation there which suggests Skulduggery is not about to do something foolish.

[As far as Kratos is concerned, that could be either outing him, attacking him, or attempting to worship him. The last is the least desirable, at this point.

[The affection Skulduggery has for his vehicle is clear, and it makes Kratos shake his head in vague amusement. Inside it's not dissimilar to a carriage, except that it sits lower and the front is comprised of a dashboard more akin to a rheaird -- except for the wheel in the place of the handlebars.]

Hmh. What's it called?

[Kratos pats the vehicle and then points to the large book of words.]

Carriage?

Car. Vehicle. Automotive. Bentley R-Type Continental, one of only 208 ever made. [A brief pause, and then, with a note of amusement:] Car.

[Skulduggery leaves the passenger door open and walks around to the driver's side. Kratos is taller than Valkyrie, so he'll probably need to put the seat a little further back. Valkyrie won't be happy about that. Skulduggery will simply call it punishment for hiding what might be very important things from him.

It only belatedly occurs to him Kratos won't know how to put the seat further back.]

Seat belt. [Once they're both in the car, Skulduggery demonstrates by putting on his own.]

[That's a lot of words, descending from the usual range of applicable words to what is clearly more descriptive, and clearly owing to pride. Kratos recognises that numbers are said, but not the complete digit. At least Skulduggery realises the ridiculousness of showing off the vehicle when Kratos can't understand him.]

Car.

[This is repeated with the same degree of amusement, and then Kratos ducks his head to take a seat inside. There isn't much foot-room, but judging by the position of Skulduggery's seat -- and a bit of logic -- Kratos surmises the chair should be able to move. Rheaird saddles could be so adjusted as well; usually there was something on the side ...

[Yes, there they are; more than one, with helpful images on them. After a bit of adjusting to account for the speed at which the seat moves back, and the awkwardness of having to move the chair while sitting in it, Kratos achieves a bit more leg-room and then obeys Skulduggery's motion to use the belt.

[This is done rather dubiously. It doesn't look particularly comfortable, and it does seem to be extremely restrictive, judging by the tension on the band. If he has to fight, it could be a problem. Still, Skulduggery doesn't seem to be expecting a fight, so Kratos trusts him by rather doubtfully buckling the belt into the clip on the other side, as Skulduggery had done.]

[Kratos, as always, is intelligent enough to work out how to adjust the seat for himself, and to put his seat belt on when asked. If he really is an angel, Skulduggery doubts the seat belt would be any extra help in a crash, but there's always the law to consider.

Not that Skulduggery considers the law very often.]

Thank you. [He sounds properly cheerful again as he turns on the engine and puts the car in gear. The Bentley is much quieter than other cars its age, not to mention many modern cars; but it's still a non-hybrid engine, and therefore still noisy. In deference to this very likely being Kratos's first time in a car, Skulduggery backs out of the space much more slowly than he's used to.]

Do angels need to sleep?

[He asks the question as it occurs to him without thinking, but they did cover 'sleep', if Kratos remembers.]

[Kratos starts as the car vibrates to life, one hand reaching down to keep the books on his lap and the other gripping the door handle. He can feel the turn of lightning mana in this as well; are all machines on this planet driven by electricity?

[That might explain the taste of the air. Steamboats, coal fires -- one of the reasons why magitechnology was so heavily favoured was because of the more obvious impact the former had on the environment. Magitechnology may be worse, but its effects are far more subtle. Even so, Kratos is beginning to doubt the wisdom of the technology here.

[Still, the rumble is not precisely unpleasant, though he prefers a rheaird; Kratos relaxes his grip after a moment.]

Sleep.

[He knows that word. Kratos folds his hands and pantomimes putting his head on them, just like Skulduggery had before the bookstore. He still doesn't quite know the context of the question, but the answer is the same.]

No.

Wonderful.

[The word's half dry sarcasm, half genuine. Skulduggery's gotten used to having time to himself while others sleep, but all the same, it's about time he had some guaranteed company.]

I'll assume you don't have to eat either. [A short, not-at-all-genuine sigh.] Very well. I'll take you back to my house and decide what to do with you from there. Careful with your reading -- you might get carsick, and that'll make us both unhappy.

[Skulduggery puts the car out of reverse and drives.]

Then again, angels probably don't get carsick.

[After this last comment, he falls silent. People usually like it to be quiet when they're reading, he's sure. The purr of the Bentley's engine is the only sound until they leave the car park, when a medley of Christmas music, other engines, and the occasional horn blast join the sounds.]

[At first Kratos looks around with impassive interest as the car moves forward up the ramp and into the street, clearly marked with lanes. This seems more difficult than riding a rheaird; there is always the risk of crashing into a mountain, of course, but that requires a loss of altitude, and rheairds are uncommon enough that the risk of running into another one is remote.

[How fast can a car go? They're near enough to the ground that it must surely be dangerous regardless of speed, especially given the width of the lanes and the presence of numerous other cars. Judging by the lot where they were kept, cars are exceedingly common.

[After a minute or so Kratos turns his attention to the books, beginning with the book of letters. He pages through it, sounding out the letters, until he reaches the page with 'P'. Among several images, there is a picture of a planet with rings around it, not unlike several planets Derris-Kharlan had already scanned.]

Planet. Hm.

[The car pulls to a stop and Kratos looks up to see they're at a set of red lights. Just as well; Kratos would not have wanted to distract Skulduggery from his surroundings, though surely Skulduggery must be wondering where Kratos had come from -- and why. Hopefully, knowing that Kratos is from another planet will avoid the possibility of Skulduggery thinking he's divine, or worse, responsible for this one.]

Skulduggery.

[Kratos holds up the book and shows Skulduggery the page, tapping the image of the planet, and pointing to himself.]

Hm? [Skulduggery glances over to look at the picture of the planet, and catches Kratos's gestures.] Planet? You -- you're from another planet?

[It takes a second for the enormity of that statement to catch up with the fairly unthinking logic of charades translation.]

You're from another planet?

[This second time is more incredulous than anything Skulduggery has said thus far, including his reaction to Kratos being an angel. Angels, after a fashion, make sense. The Faceless Ones exist too, hitchhiking their way through hundreds of alternate dimensions. To an open-minded sorcerer, angels also existing is not outside the realm of possibility.

But angels from outer space?

That sounds like the premise of a bad science fiction movie.

The light turns green, and Skulduggery has to return his attention to driving. That doesn't mean he isn't very aware of Kratos sitting next to him, nor does it mean he isn't contemplating how he met Kratos -- cracking pavement after a fall from a very great height.]

[The fact that Skulduggery feels the need to repeat the same sentence, combined with the 'planet' and the increased incredulity in his tone the second time, tells Kratos exactly what that sentence is. The repeat of that word 'you' suggests that's the part which refers to him.]

You're. Ah.

[Kratos goes back to the letters, seeking out one which corresponds to those sounds. The book, it proves, also has words for the passing of time, hours to years, day and night, and seasons. These are not immediately helpful.

[Next he consults the other two books in conjunction. He finds 'you', but doesn't understand the explanation; that's alright. He finds it in the thinner book, and this does have pictures. 'You' leads him to 'I' leads him to 'be' leads him to 'am' leads him into an increasingly deep circle of vocabulary with all his dogged intensity.

[By the time the car pulls up, Kratos is using the second picture book to sound out some basic sentences, and only stops to look up when Skulduggery turns off the engine.]

[Forget reporting him to the Sanctuary. By this point, Skulduggery probably has a moral obligation to report Kratos to three or four different mortal governments.

Not that he will, but it's sobering to remember that.

By the time they pull up to the house on Cemetery Road, Kratos is reading at a primary school level. This doesn't surprise Skulduggery anymore. He turns off the engine and fingers his mobile phone for a moment in thought.

Valkyrie won't thank him for disturbing her. Ghastly has made it clear he's not available until after sunrise. For the next few hours, he's on his own.]

Pick up anything useful?

[It's a house. This, at least, looks familiar, even if the architecture is very different from what Kratos knows. Mana-signatures are distant; there are other buildings down the street, but the lights are dark and Kratos can't sense anyone inside.

[Unfortunately, he also still can't understand Skulduggery's question -- though now the sounds and individual words are clearer. He's sure he can guess the intent behind it, however; something along the lines of 'how are your studies going', he thinks.]

Yes. I am --

[Hm. How to finish that sentence. He doesn't have very many words yet. Kratos flips through the intermediate book, to the list of easy phrases he remembers being there, and the one whose picture, of someone receiving a gift, indicates gratitude.]

Thank you. Your -- time.

[The response, spontaneously generated and understandable, has Skulduggery looking at Kratos with surprise again. The drive had been less than an hour -- surely that isn't enough time to pick up even an imitation of fluency?]

You're welcome.

[Because 'think nothing of it' might be a little complicated at the moment.]

I hope you have a way back off this planet. This isn't a place you want to be stuck for very long. It has a tendency to put itself in apocalyptic danger.

[Kratos understands 'I', 'you', 'planet', and that's about it. Skulduggery's tone tells Kratos that Skulduggery may be slightly miffed, however. Kratos has known Yuan for a very long time, after all. He knows the sound of belligerent irritation very well.

[He chuckles softly and unbuckles the belt, then pushes open the door to step out into the evening with a deep breath. The air's cleaner out here. Not by a significant amount, but enough of one. Wind is one of his lesser affinities, but he still has a sense of it.]

Yours?

[Kratos nods toward the house. It's remote enough to serve as a base of operations for someone who isn't precisely human anymore.]

Yes. [He says it with a small amount of pride.] Mine.

[All Valkyrie ever does when she visits is complain about the lack of food. Skulduggery's renovated the house to have a kitchen and a bathroom now, and people still usually find something to complain about.]

I live here alone. Just me. There's nothing to worry about, and you can read for as long as you like.

[Skulduggery's no longer completely sure Kratos won't understand that, but the sentiment should become clear soon enough. Skulduggery gets out of the car and leads the way into the house, making sure to flip on a light or two as he goes.]

Can you eat? Did you learn 'eat'?

[There's a lot of use of the word 'I' and 'me'. Either Skulduggery is very proud over a house, or he's trying to reassure Kratos that they will have privacy. Since Kratos can't sense any mana, he assumes the second; unless Skulduggery has undead friends whose mana is far less defined. Somehow, Kratos doubts that. He'd still be able to sense them. He trails Skulduggery into the house with books in hand, looking around.]

Eat, yes.

[Is Skulduggery asking whether he understands the word, or can do so? Kratos supposes it doesn't matter. The answer, like with the sleep question, is the same. Still, it's not entirely accurate.]

Yes; no. Hmh.

[Kratos hesitates, flipping through that book again for the pages on facial expressions and emotion. 'Happy' is not really applicable, here, but it's the nearest he has.]

Yes food -- happy I eat. No food -- happy no eat.

Edited 2016-12-18 10:06 (UTC)

[Please excuse Skulduggery laughing. He can't help that there's something faintly ridiculous about this whole situation.]

If that's what you can manage in less than an hour, we might not need Ghastly's help by the time he wakes up.

[It's got to be enhanced magically somehow. Not to demean Kratos's intelligence -- quite the contrary, Skulduggery's still impressed by it -- but learning a completely new language well enough to communicate complex meanings within an hour just isn't possible.

At least... by the standards of Earth.]

At any rate, I'm glad you don't need to eat. I don't have any food here.

[Skulduggery draws the curtains across the front living room window, then removes his disguise, piece by piece, and lays each neatly on the side table in the hall.]

[The laughter gets a head-tip, impassive as most of Kratos's actions are impassive, even when there should be emotion implied. It seems to be laughter more at the general circumstances, however, so Kratos ignores it and wanders around the room a bit, taking in the lack of personal belongings on the walls. At least there's furniture.

[Kratos takes a seat, pulling the low table closer to put down the books, but is distracted from pursuing the language further by Skulduggery pulling off his disguise. He is, indeed, a skeleton. A skeleton held together by mana in a very literal sense. Kratos wonders whether he can feel pain.

[He picks up the intermediate book again, leafing through the pages with swift intent. Surely there's something in here to tell him the most basic questioning words. It takes a bit, but he does find a spread of pages which seems likely -- though the symbol in the title is not one he recognises.

[The images indicate it's what he wants, however. A picture of man in a crossroad; a picture of a woman examining something through a microscope; a child pointing at a beetle and looking up at an adult; someone looking at a clock; someone sitting in the middle of a deconstructed piece of furniture with a sheaf of paper while scratching their head. Where, why, what, when, how.]

Skulduggery.

[Kratos gets to his feet to bring the book over, pointing at the last image and sounding out the accompanying word.]

You. Skeleton. How?

[He knows he won't understand the full explanation, but just the fact that Skulduggery might know how he's sentient when, by all rights, he shouldn't be -- it would be reassuring that Kratos doesn't have to worry about him going rabid.]

That... [Skulduggery shakes his head, bemused.] ... is a very complicated question.

[What does Kratos hope to glean from this? He can't possibly understand the answer, especially when Skulduggery doesn't understand half of it himself. Still, he does deserve something for being able to ask the question at all, and Skulduggery stops to think for a moment.]

I was killed. ['Killed' probably won't be in the children's thesaurus, so Skulduggery tries to get the meaning across by sliding one finger across the area beneath his skull where his throat should be.] By a man named Nefarian Serpine. [They've technically gone over 'name', but just in case, Skulduggery points to himself, repeats his name, and then indicates the empty space next to him and repeats Serpine's name.

This is certainly the strangest way he's ever had to tell the story.]

After I was dead, Serpine burned -- ah. Fire. [Skulduggery snaps his fingers to bring the flame back up in his hand.] And when I was nothing but bones -- [He peels off one glove and points to a single bone in his arm.] -- a series of things happened that might be too complicated for me to reenact here, the end result of which was me. [He hesitates, then points at the thesaurus.] It's a little like a ghost. G, H. Only not like a ghost at all.

[For one thing, Kratos does gain a new range of words while comprehending their meaning. For all the words Kratos misses, the context is fairly clear given Skulduggery's pantomime. Kratos watches in silence, his mouth growing slowly tighter. The nuance might be lost, but Kratos understands enough. Skulduggery's story ... sounds not unlike his.

[Except that it still doesn't answer his most pertinent question. It's the series of physical events, not an explanation of Skulduggery's mana. Perhaps that is too complicated. Perhaps Skulduggery genuinely doesn't know.

[In any case, hearing the story makes Kratos wonder something else. His flips through the book again until he finds the page quite obviously about families. There's a mother. A father. A son. A daughter. Kratos's voice is gentler than it was as he taps that image and asks:]

Family?

[Skulduggery looks silently down at the page for a moment before answering.] No.

[Wait.]

Yes. But no, not anymore. Not now.

[The passage of time makes it both easier to talk about, and not any easier at all.

There's something, though, about the way Kratos asks. The change in his tone -- the fact that he asked at all, even. Skulduggery wouldn't have thought angels had families in the traditional sense, but Kratos did specify human angel. Skulduggery doesn't need to know the details in order to make an educated guess.]

What about you? Family?

[The way Skulduggery pauses before saying 'no' tells Kratos all that he needs to know, though he appreciates the attempt at clarification.]

Serpine.

[Grimly. If Skulduggery had been killed by someone else, why would that someone else spare his family? It's a guess, but Kratos does not think he's wrong. He's willing to let Skulduggery change the subject, since the subject of Kratos's family is far less unpleasant nowadays -- regardless of the panging grief he still feels. Kratos smiles slightly.]

Family. Yes.

[He reaches up to his collar to pull out the locket and open it to show Skulduggery. It's quite clear the two pictures are years apart; the one of him and Anna and Lloyd is chipped around the edges, while the second is still shiny with varnish. (If Skulduggery thought Kratos was wearing rather a lot of buckles now, the outfit in the image is going to be a surprise.) Kratos points to each person in turn, starting from the older image, moving to the newer.]

I. Anna. Lloyd. Lloyd. Colette. Genis. Raine.

[Kratos hesitates, then makes the same motion across his throat which Skulduggery had.]

Killed?

[He points to his side and says, in tones of bitter, resigned anger:]

Kvar. Kvar killed Anna.

[It isn't entirely accurate -- but Kratos is willing to submit to Lloyd's interpretation of the situation, in light of the language barrier.]

I killed Kvar. Serpine?

[Vengeance may be a hollow victory, but there's something to be said for knowing a killer is no longer capable of killing.]

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