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

[Good try his wingpack. Yuan will absolutely be leaving a message with one of the comms angels, and is in fact reaching for his own console -- slightly out of sight of the projection -- to do just that.]

Sunny, especially near the Tree. We're coming on toward autumn in these parts, but it's mild yet.

[In which Yuan knows exactly what Kratos is talking about, and is blithely ignoring it. Kratos should have used a different language if he didn't want the two meanings to be confusable.]

[He lets that sit for a few moments before relenting into what Kratos actually meant.]

Confused. The removal of the Tethe'allan Pope is still having a significant positive effect, and between Sylvarant and Tethe'alla coming together again the matter of half-elves is beginning to be a quieter one. There's still a long way to go, naturally, but...

It's better than I could have hoped.

[Kratos knows Yuan knows exactly what he meant, and lifts his eyebrows slightly, waiting in silence until Yuan picks up that thread. Still, the news is a bit unexpected; his brow lowers and his mouth turns up a bit.]

Hmh. That's -- better than I was expecting.

[Except for the implication that the kingdoms are suspicious enough of each other for racial bigotry to take a backseat. The fact that Yuan feels the need to add the last is a decent sign, at least; probably no war is brewing.]

Then I may not be as long as I thought.

[Of course Kratos knows. They know each other too well; but by the same token, it's some measure of gratifying to know Kratos does, after everything they've been through.]

It is. Not without problem, of course, but...

[Yuan makes a dismissive sound, waves one hand.]

For now, it's promising. I'll keep you updated.

[Also, the sooner Kratos turns around to help him with this problem, the better.]

That's everything I needed to bring up. Don't start a war accidentally. I'll contact you in another few weeks.

[With a nod to Kratos, and a gesture at Skulduggery intended to indicate that Yuan is watching him, Yuan closes the connection.]

[Skulduggery's being watched. From God-knows-how-many light years away. He's not quite sure what to do with this information, but that's about par for the course so far. He's not sure what to do with any of the information he's acquired.]

So that was Yuan. [Skulduggery nods.] He seems like a nice chap.

[Blue hair. Half something-not-human. Angel. Stubborn. Reluctantly affectionate. It's amazing how much you can learn about someone from only a few minutes of contextless observation.]

He reminds me of a question I had earlier, actually. Why did you leave Aselia?

[Is 'leave' a word Kratos knows by now? Hm.]

We left Earth, just now. [Skulduggery gestures back in the direction of the giant planet.] Leave. Left. Why did you leave Aselia? Don't tell me it's just to help them, because from what I've gathered, Yuan didn't want you to leave. [He points at the locket.] I can't imagine your family wanted you to leave either.

Yuan; yes.

[Whatever that second part is, Kratos can't tell, but he's watching Skulduggery with an impassive face and an internal mixture of amusement and exasperation. He would very much enjoy a face to read right now.]

Left, hmh?

[This language changes tenses in such inconsistent ways. Kratos does get Skulduggery's meaning, at least, and he gazes thoughtfully out across the expanse of drifting angels, fingering his locket. So Skulduggery doesn't believe that's the only reason, based solely on the conversation with Yuan. He's sharp. And Kratos is blaming this on Yuan.

[After a moment Kratos focusses back at Skulduggery. This is -- very complicated.]

Mithos is half-elf. Aselia is his -- before.

[No. Kratos pauses.]

What is -- is, but past? Like leave and left.

Was.

[Still impressed, but now that Skulduggery has the real standard for how fast Kratos picks up language, he's no longer thrown off balance by surprise. So Mithos is also a half-something-not-human. None of the feathered angels Skulduggery's seen have blue hair, but blue hair may not be the only indicator, and if specifying human angel was important enough to Kratos to make it clear to a comparative stranger, he might be in the minority.

Do only the half-humans regularly become angels? But Kratos said Mithos is his student. There's still too much context Skulduggery doesn't have.]

Go on.

Was. Aselia was his.

[Not his anything; just his, in its entirety. Though now the issue is how to distill the complexity of the Kharlan War, and after, down to its basics. Kratos has to pause again. How does one explain resurrection?]

His want was to save Martel -- his sister. She was ... hmh. Like you. Not skeleton, but like you. Mithos --

[How does one explain 'taking over the world'?]

-- killed the humans who killed Martel. Mithos made Aselia his. Whole planet.

[Another pause, primarily because he's trying to figure out which past-tense change this word should have.]

I help. Help Mithos. And they help.

[He indicates the other angels with a nod.]

After Lloyd killed Mithos, Derris-Kharlan left.

[There was too much tension to stay.]

[Skulduggery suspected it was something like that.

... Well, no. He suspected precisely 0% of what Kratos is now telling him. But the essence of it, the intensity, the complexity, the guilt -- that he suspected. Guilt is never simple and clear-cut.

Does Lloyd blame Kratos for what Mithos did? He'd be right to, if Kratos's version of events isn't too biased. But Kratos doesn't seem the sort of man to run because a family member is angry with him, so regardless of how Lloyd feels, Kratos's self-exile is probably exactly that. Self-exile.

Maybe that's the right thing to do. Skulduggery isn't in a position to judge.]

Mithos -- [ -- hm. Boiling things down to their basics is hard enough when the recipient speaks fluent English.] -- changed, did he? Do you know 'change'?

[Skulduggery's seen people do stupid things in the name of saving people they care about, himself included. And if Kratos feels as guilty as he does, then he probably didn't take Mithos on as a student knowing how things were going to turn out. There's only so many conclusions one can draw from that.]

Change.

[The word seems familiar, and Kratos pauses for a moment to let the cruxis crystal's imprints sort that out before remembering the use of the word in the pages related to Earth's seasons. Change between seasons.]

Changed. Yes. Mithos -- was like Lloyd, before.

[There's a note of grim sorrow in his tone, quiet though it is.]

His want was to help the world. Help half-elves. Humans killed half-elves -- many times. Killed -- hmh. Killed mana, with time. Killed Aselia. Mithos, Martel, Yuan, I -- not angels, before. Then angels, to help Aselia. To help mana. Then humans killed Martel. Mithos help Martel be like you -- with mana. And then ...

[Kratos makes a helpless gesture.]

Mithos help Aselia. Then he not help Aselia. Then he killed humans. Many, many humans. Changed many half-elves to angels. Killed many angels here.

[He taps his chest where his heart is.]

To help Martel. Yes, Mithos changed.

Edited (added a thing) 2017-01-04 03:54 (UTC)

[Their story starts in war, it sounds like. Or, if half-not-humans weren't as capable of defending themselves, genocide. Killing mana is a concept Skulduggery can't wrap his head around, but only because he still doesn't know what mana is. Killing magical energy, somehow dooming an entire planet? Unless Kratos is talking about running out of a finite resource. Then it makes sense. Aselia wasn't doomed; the people living there were.

But if Mithos had already helped Martel surpass death, why continue the carnage? Like you, Kratos said, not a skeleton. Not dead, but not alive, either. Somewhere in between. A coma, maybe. Though if she's also an angel, the truth might be more complicated than simple language can express.

It does, however, take a very long time for someone who wasn't a monster already to turn into one. It took Skulduggery nearly a century, and angels might well be truly immortal.]

Did the book tell you anything about --?

[Before he can finish, one of the feathered angels approaches them. A reverential nod at Kratos, a paper note pressed into Skulduggery's hand, and then she's gone again. The note says, in plain English:

Skulduggery, please, hit or hug Kratos. He needs it. Yuan.

... Well, points for determination. And it's unnerving how quickly Derris-Kharlan can already translate messages.

Skulduggery puts the note in his pocket, then gives Kratos a hard tap on the shoulder. For a human, it would be just painful enough to be startling. For angels, Skulduggery has no idea.]

That's from Yuan.

[Then, moving on without missing a beat:]

Did the book tell you anything about age?

[The sudden arrival of one of the junior comms officers has Kratos turning, but to his very brief surprise, it's Skulduggery to whom she goes. A moment later, the surprise melts into exasperated realisation, only a moment before Skulduggery tags his shoulder. His only reaction is to cross his arms and give Skulduggery one of his impassive-but-hiding-tolerant-amusement looks. Of course Yuan would press. Of course.

[He does send a quick telepathic message to the retreating angel to ask how long until the book comes back, if they're already sending messages in English. 'Not long' appears to be the answer. He assures them there's no rush. It's been a long time since he learned a new language in such a way. The novelty hasn't worn off yet.]

Age -- yes.

[There was quite a spread of pages for time-related words; he has to pause to sift through them, linking them together in his head. When he speaks it isn't mechanical, but it is something of a recitation, a similar rhythm to how he'd originally read them from the book in the car.]

Age and time. Earth -- twenty-four hours to a day; twenty-eight to thirty-one days to a month; twelve months to a year; three-hundred and sixty-five days to a year. Humans -- one hundred years.

[He tips his head, speaking slowly to measure the same spaces of time on his own planet. If Skulduggery was asking about age, then they ought to have some basis on which to compare their individual understandings of such.]

Aselia is twenty-four hours to a day. Forty-two days to a month. Eight months to a year. Three hundred and thirty-six days to a year. Humans -- one hundred years. Dwarves, elves, half-elves -- ten hundred?

[It wasn't the word the book had used, but it was how it had allotted the numbers. Saying it out loud leads him to the correct word.]

One thousand. Angels ...

[He spreads his hands and shrugged. Given the cruxis crystals are mineral parasites, and that even minerals submitted to time, it's possible there is an upper limit to an angel's age; but none of them have even remotely hit that stage yet.

Edited (adding more stuff; fixing my math) 2017-01-04 22:19 (UTC)

[Time to add 'walking encyclopedia' to the list of things an angel from outer space should not be, and yet is.

Differences in spans of time aside, it does sound like Earth and Aselia measure time in roughly the same way -- at least when it comes to telling how old someone is. It also sounds like angels are functionally immortal. There aren't many sorcerers who will take the existence of something greater than them well, and precisely none of them are worshippers of the Faceless Ones. If Kratos wants to stay on Earth for any length of time, things might get difficult.]

Humans -- we call them 'mortals', which isn't very fair of us -- live for one hundred years. Sorcerers, on the other hand, humans like me and Ghastly who can do things like this -- [Palm flame on, palm flame off.] -- we live for a thousand years too. And this...

[Skulduggery makes a gesture that takes in all of his skeleton-ness.]

I'm unique. There's no one else like me. I might live as long as angels do. Right now, though, I'm a little over four hundred. How old are you?

[There is literally no answer that will surprise Skulduggery at this point.]

Sorcerers?

[Kratos watches the flare in Skulduggery's palm with interest, even though he's already seen it. There is mana being used, there, and this is a subject he most certainly wants to know about -- if only because Raine will demand details when he returns.]

But you're human.

[Interesting. The use of mana here causes longevity? That -- that is a salient thought, actually. None of the humans who ingested aionis ever survived long enough to determine whether they lived more than a human's natural lifespan. Except for Kratos, of course, and the cruxis crystal muddied that. When they drop by the moon, he'll have to ask the researchers there to run scans for aionis in this system. If it's a natural resource and some humans happen to be exposed to it more than others, it would explain why some have magic and some don't.]

I'm -- four thousand.

[He thinks for a moment, searching for a phrase from the numbers pages.]

More or less. Twenty-four when I changed to angel. Twenty-eight now. Yuan is four thousand -- but twenty-six. Mithos was four thousand -- but fifteen. Martel was ... over? Over one hundred when she was killed -- but twenty-seven.

[His tone softens a bit at the last, regretful.]

Lloyd is seventeen -- no, nineteen.

[Nearly, anyway. The journey on Aselia crossed some important events without notice.]

I am human, yes. [To which Kratos sounds surprised. Maybe humans can't use magic where he comes from, unless they're also angels. Skulduggery finds that as interesting as Kratos undoubtedly does, beneath that impassive exterior. He doesn't know how far away the two planets are, but a change that drastic in fundamental concepts... being able to travel the universe would certainly be interesting.

Four thousand. Yep, not surprised at all.]

... Fifteen?

[Now that's surprising. There has to be a reason Kratos is offering up when each of them stopped physically aging. And his student, the angel who engineered whatever dastardly plot led to all these feathered emotionless ones, was fifteen when he changed. Skulduggery adds more questions to the growing list for when Kratos can understand and answer them properly.]

So you've been in space for two years. Twenty-four, twenty-eight -- you stopped being an angel for four? Is that what happened?

['How' isn't as salient a question as 'why'. To raise a family, perhaps, but Lloyd's seventeen -- nineteen.]

Why not stop being an angel for nineteen years?

One year. More. Not two.

[The Journey had taken a good half of one, if not more, and it had been a few weeks before Kratos left. He huffs a little at the many questions he expected Skulduggery would have, crossing his arms. It isn't not precisely a mirthful huff.]

Yes. Fifteen. And yes, four years.

[It is not precisely a topic he discusses often, but given that they'd already discussed their respective families, it hardly seems like much of an offence.]

Because four is when Anna was killed. Lloyd too -- but not. That was what I saw.

[For a given definition of 'see'.]

I left Mithos to be with Anna. I went to Mithos after Anna was killed. Lloyd was three when Anna was killed. He was seventeen when I saw him after. His father not me is Dirk.

[A moment's thought, and then he adds:]

He is a friend.

Edited (adding a line) 2017-01-07 22:03 (UTC)

You thought Lloyd was dead too.

[There's not much else to say. Even that is less an acknowledgement that Skulduggery understands what Kratos is trying to say, and more a way for Kratos to learn the word 'dead'.

He doesn't need to ask why Kratos went back to a regime he knew was terrible. Skulduggery's felt that hopelessness himself. He generally makes it a point not to judge others for bad decisions he also made -- one of the many reasons he still associates with China despite his better judgement. The year after Kratos found out Lloyd was still alive must have been an incredibly interesting one, especially since it apparently ended in Mithos's death. More questions to add to the growing list.]

Other. His other father. His adoptive father, if you want to get technical. [Skulduggery exhales slowly and looks up into the sky.] When you've learned more English, remind me to tell you about the time I did something similar.

[He is fully expecting that question, if it's even understood in the first place, to fall through the cracks sometime before Kratos masters the language.]

Dead. Yes.

[The word is a new one, and Kratos doesn't remember it from the book; but the context is clear enough to fit it into the words he already knows. His tone is thoughtful, though, because there's a definite lack of judgement in Skulduggery's tone. Though most of the secondary comment isn't understood, 'time I did' is just enough, combined with that lack of judgement, to make Kratos note to ask later.

[Any further questions are put on hold by another angel winging toward them. He lands by Kratos with a deep bow and gives him the book.]

The portable warp-pad is ready at your convenience, Lord Kratos.

[Then the angel turns toward Skulduggery. This angel's eyes are a bit sharper than most of them, even if he's still rather blank-faced, and he speaks in perfect if careful English, with the non-discretionary American accent common to TV shows and films.]

Mr Skulduggery. Please be welcome to Welgaia.

[He bows again, and flits off without waiting for a response.]

[... That was fundamentally unnerving. Skulduggery stares after the angel for a while, then looks at Kratos.]

Not bad.

[His voice doesn't hold any indication that he was unnerved by anything at all. Nevertheless, Skulduggery's starting to wonder about the wisdom in letting an alien race learn about humanity from the movies and shows scrolling across the console earlier. He's no diplomat. The magical communities in Ireland don't have any diplomats right now, though, which probably makes Skulduggery the next best thing. He hates that. He's not even wearing a hat, which is the sort of thing leaders do.

That reminds him. Valkyrie should be calling soon -- or so Skulduggery assumes, without access to any clock or even the sun.]

Do you need me for something else? If not, I'll need your help getting back to Earth.

[Which is not a sentence he ever thought he'd say.]

[Skulduggery's tone may not have said much, but the fact that he had to watch after the angel for that long is amusing in itself, and has its own weight. Kratos chuckles softly at it, tucking the book into his belt.]

Earth, yes.

[He beckons Skulduggery follow, leading him through warp after descending warp until they arrive on a platform only a short walk over a bridge to the warp connected to the moon. It's marked differently than the rest -- each of the warps are marked, in fact, with their height and location on the axis compared to the city's centre.

[When they arrive at the warp, a couple of engineers are counting the parts needed for the warp Kratos intends to take to Earth. One stands to bow, while the other begins putting the pieces into a wingpack for ease of carry.]

Lord Kratos. We're just about prepared. Is there anything you need before you depart?

[Kratos shakes his head.]

No, this is everything. Maintain orbit. And have someone scan the solar system for aionis.

[Skulduggery has a good visual memory. He did even when he was alive, but removing the physical limitations of a brain goes a long way towards granting perfect visual memory, capable of memorising entire maps at a glance. Skulduggery would have said it was perfect, in fact, except that Derris-Kharlan -- Welgaia -- is confounding. The route they're taking through the teleportation pads is straightforward enough, but Skulduggery isn't confident he could find his way back if he got lost. That's a new feeling.

Fletcher Renn wouldn't be happy about the teleportation pads. Being the last natural-born Teleporter in the world is pretty much the only thing the lad has going for him.

One of the things Skulduggery isn't is an engineer, so initially he's paying more attention to the language being spoken than whatever the engineering project is. That changes when the angel starts putting fairly large bits and pieces into something smaller than the palm of his hand, rather like Mary Poppins if Mary Poppins had feathered wings. Skulduggery stares for a moment, head tilted to the side, then murmurs:] That's convenient.

[Would it work on living things? It might have been nice to have somewhere to store the Remnant who possessed Kenspeckle which wasn't an extremely breakable crystal ball.]

Are we taking that with us?

[To be fair, most cities on Earth also don't allow for travel on a three-dimensional axis. An observant skeleton might notice, however, that the layout is something akin to the pattern of petals on a flower -- or a crystal.

[Kratos turns toward Skulduggery, head-tipped in a similar manner, and follows Skulduggery's gesture toward the rapidly vanishing parts of the warp-pad.]

To Earth? Yes. That.

[He points to the warp-pad leading to the moon.]

So we can leave, after -- to Derris-Kharlan. And leave Derris-Kharlan to Earth.

[For ease of transport. It's going to get very old, very fast, having to navigate the debris-field in orbit, otherwise. The other engineer rises and salutes Kratos, and Kratos accepts the wing-pack, attaching it to his belt beside the one which carries his sword and shield. Then he extends his arm toward the warp, turned toward Skulduggery, in an 'after you' motion.]

[A teleportation pad, specifically to put together on Earth -- probably in Skulduggery's back yard. Interesting. It would let him take Valkyrie, Tanith, or Ghastly into Derris-Kharlan so they can see it for themselves, which means he has no real reason to object to the plan. But something strikes him as dangerous, having a direct connection to the asteroid so readily available. Kratos still hasn't seen how selfish, greedy, power-hungry, and downright stupid some sorcerers can be.

For now, though, they're going back the way they came. Skulduggery can't tell if he's looking forward to it or not. The sight of the planet from space had been breathtaking, but also paralysing, and probably very bad for whatever magic's keeping his consciousness glued to his bones. Maybe he can keep his metaphorical eyes shut for the journey back.

First it's back through the teleportation pad to the moon, where there's localised gravity but no atmosphere. Then it's back into the sky -- into space -- and the closer they get to Earth, the easier it gets to tell that the small island west of the slightly bigger island is definitely experiencing morning. It's bathed in the light of the sun.

Metaphorical eyes shut. Where did Skulduggery leave the charger for his phone? He can't remember. Must still be in the house somewhere.]

[They paused on the moon just long enough for Kratos to give some orders regarding the search for aionis -- and, belatedly, materials which might burn hot enough to melt it. There is no reason to believe another Eternal Ring needs to be forged, but Kratos prefers to be thorough.

[One of the scientists shoves some equipment into his hands to test the soil around Skulduggery's island, with the reasoning that the mana-dense areas of the planet are more likely to yield results. It's logical enough, but Kratos hands these off to Skulduggery so he can carry Skulduggery during the flight.

[Then it's up through the moon's dust-cloud and toward the debris field as a flash of light. The planet's rotation has progressed enough that Kratos has to come at it from a long arc, matching the speed and trajectory of the majority of the debris; even still, Guardian flares a few times before they're low enough in orbit to be clear of the field. By that point they're on the cusp of sunlight and the star blooms bright around the planet's curve; Kratos shuts off his eyesight and navigates his way down using his sense of light and the planet's electric field.

[Soon enough air-mana rises up around them as they descend into the atmosphere, and gravity's pull is directed more into the planet's ground than around its orbit. The morning is still early, but it's late enough that with the atmosphere the sun's glare is dulled, turning the sky brilliant blue. Sight goes on again, and Kratos coasts lower, shaking off his higher wings for the more subtle blue shards, searching the unfamiliar terrain for the landmarks he'd noted in the dark. Which all look very different, now.

[... Possibly he should ask. He sends Skulduggery a gentle prodding query for direction.]

[When Skulduggery can feel the air pressing in around him again, malleable and familiar, he opens the eyes he doesn't have and takes no extra time to adjust to the sharp light of morning. There are times he prefers being dead, and this is one of them.

The center of Dublin is visible off to their left, pinpricks of tall buildings among leafy green foliage. Skulduggery doesn't usually fly this high on his own, and he avoids airplanes as a general rule, so it takes him a moment or two of further descent before he answers the unspoken question in his head.]

Right.

[He gestures in that direction, as much as what he's carrying will let him.]

Did the thesaurus happen to have compass directions in it? North, south, east west? [A pause.] Would you to be able to tell which way's which, even if it did?

[Kratos sends over a mental affirmative. There's air to speak, now, but they're still moving fast enough that bothering to breathe to speak aloud would be impractical, especially when he doesn't know how sharp Skulduggery's hearing is.

[The book does have a page like that -- and Kratos can tell directions using a planet's electrical field. But while the page had indicated that 'north' was 'up', rather emphatically, knowing that is useless to him without knowing which direction the people from Earth consider 'upwards'.

[This is sent as a follow up, a vague sense of dissatisfaction at not knowing which of the cardinal points is most valuable to them. On Aselia, the leading cardinal point is east -- due to the rising of the sun and the magnetic pole created by the Tree on the Holy Ground.

[Earth's magnetism should, at least, be easy to figure out. Kratos's next unspoken query is which direction the sun rises here on Earth. From there, he should be able to figure out the rest; there is a definite magnetic pole at cross angles to the rising sun.]

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

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