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

[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.]

[It's a strange sensation, listening for answers that don't come verbally or visually. They come instead as ideas. And Skulduggery's used to ignoring ideas that aren't immediately relevant to the situation at hand, which makes pinpointing the foreign ideas even more of an interesting task.

A 'yes', he gathers, followed by vague irritation which isn't quite irritation, centred around -- ah. The thesaurus wasn't specific enough. Skulduggery can't help laughing. Kratos didn't know a single word of English a few hours ago, and now he's irritated because the childrens' thesaurus doesn't have enough detail in it.]

East. It rises in the east, and sets in the west. My house is west of Dublin. [Another gesture.] That way.

[Ah; that makes things clearer. Kratos sends over acknowledgement and tips his wings just enough to orient them properly, and they continue their descent. Unspoken, Kratos broadcasts his present sense of the planet; of the bloom of light-mana to the east, and the low electrical hum of the magnetic pole directed into the earth to the north.

[His next mental communication has an actual word on it, the first so far. Earth.

[The present-sense broadcast fades, to be replaced by one of a memory: that of the sun-bloom again to the east, but overlaid on a magnetic pole in a combination which feels like a fountain sending lightning and light washing across the whole of the horizon. Aselia.]

[Communication is so much more effective when you don't have to try to put feelings into words, especially since the feelings Kratos is trying to describe use senses Skulduggery doesn't have. Apart from his wings, Kratos looks completely human. Getting a firsthand glimpse into his mind is the first real indication Skulduggery has that he's dealing with someone utterly alien.

You know, just in case the brief foray into space wasn't enough to convince him.

Skulduggery doesn't answer, focusing instead on the scenery passing below them. Kratos is keeping away from the populated areas, he's happy to see. Something might still be picking them up, radar or even a Sensitive, but if anyone is capable of understanding what they've seen, Skulduggery can cross that bridge when it tries to kill him.

They reach his house without any encountering any murderous bridges, and the moment they've touched down Skulduggery goes inside to charge his mobile and find out what time it is. Not bad; they've been in space an hour or two longer than he thought, but it is still morning, and hopefully no one's panicking too badly about Skulduggery's unplanned disappearance.]

[When they landed in the backyard Kratos took the utensils from Skulduggery and took a few samples of the soil right there. He didn't follow Skulduggery in right away, but had a look at the ground, and then surveyed the meadows leading out behind the house, judging visibility.

[Hm. No. Inside would be best; surely Skulduggery, being a skeleton, didn't use all the rooms in his house. Kratos went inside, walking through the rooms to find one that was empty, and big enough to take a warp-pad.

[Yes; this empty bedroom would do. The window faced the meadows, and with the curtains pulled it should suffice. Kratos put down the utensils on the bureau outside and reached for the wingpack to bring out the parts of the warp, putting it together with a casual ease of familiarity. The final piece was crystal -- not an exsphere; just a regulator -- which he slotted into one of the seams. The warp-pad lit up with a glow; Kratos stepped through it back to Derris-Kharlan to hand off the utensils.

[Then Kratos returned to Skulduggery's house and left the room to find the skeleton to ask whether he minded having a couple of angelic guards in the house.]

Skulduggery.

[Valkyrie, predictably, is offended. From the way she reacts when he calls, Skulduggery suspects she was in trouble. More trouble than she meant to be in, from the sounds of it. She's alive, and she has enough energy to be offended, so chances are everything went well, but Skulduggery offers to go pick her up anyway. It's high time she told him what she's hiding.

He sends Ghastly a message that they'll meet him at his shop, and he's thumbing through a few other missed calls when Kratos comes looking for him.]

Kratos, good timing. I need to go talk to my student, and then reassure Ghastly I'm not dead. [Pause.] Deader. Do you want to come with me, or stay here?

[It takes a moment to sort through Skulduggery's words to what's actually important and comprehensible, but then Kratos nods.]

I'll come. Skulduggery. Angels come here to --

[He pauses, searching for the right words, and then beckons Skulduggery to follow. He takes him to the room where he's set up the warp.]

Angels to see the warp --

[It's in angelic, the 'warp'. He isn't sure 'see' is the correct word either, but it's the nearest he knows.]

When I -- we -- are not here. Please?

[It is a request for permission, as much to keep them on the same page; 'please' is the only word he knows for this sort of request.]

[Skulduggery's predisposed to trouble. 'Angels come here to --' has him mentally tensing, ready to hear bad news -- enemy angels invading, or some of the angels who are still developing morals deciding to go rogue and kidnap a few people. It would be on par with the sort of luck he's had lately.

But no. Kratos leads him to a teleportation pad that somehow in the last few minutes got set up in one of Skulduggery's bedrooms, and he's not bringing bad news. He's asking permission.

Someone asking Skulduggery permission to invade his house. He can't decide if that's funny or sad.]

They don't leave the house, not for anything. The last thing I need is two curious angels wandering around at Christmas.

Not leave the house, no.

[Definitely a headache they don't need; Kratos has already determined to choose a pair who are still fairly lifeless, both so there's no risk of curiosity getting the best of them and in the hope that the experience may trigger some degree of lifefulness once they return to Derris-Kharlan.

[With permission had, Kratos steps into the warp and vanishes. A few minutes later, he returns with a pair of blank-faced guards, still speaking to them in liquid angelic as he gives them their orders. One in the room, one outside in the hall; avoid windows, avoid being seen. Prevent entrance, but try not to kill.]

Yes, Lord Kratos.

[Kratos watches them for a moment as they situate themselves, wings drawn in and hands on swords. His face shows nothing of the weary regret that they respond so literally, so emotionlessly. Then he turns to Skulduggery.]

I am with you now, yes? Where are we going?

Good. Glad we're agreed on that.

[By all rights, Skulduggery should be taking Kratos to the Sanctuary, and warning the Elders of his existence. But there are no Elders -- just one very reluctant Grand Mage, whose hands are very full recreating the Sanctuary almost from scratch. The last thing Corrival's going to want to hear about is that an asteroid full of psychopathic angels is hovering just on the other side of the moon.

It's much easier for Skulduggery to justify before he sees two of the feathered angels in his own house.]

Haggard. It's where my student, Valkyrie, lives. [Skulduggery leads the way back out to the Bentley, with a mobile that's only marginally charged and one last glance back at the angels.] After that, Ghastly's shop. I know I've made you think I have nothing but free time, but the truth is you've come down in the middle of quite a bit of chaos. If my luck holds out, that chaos won't turn into apocalyptic destruction.

[But he's not keeping his fingers crossed, given the world's been in danger of ending three separate times in the last four years.]

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

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