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

Magi-technology. [Skulduggery repeats the term out loud, mostly because he can.] Sure. Why not?

Brother-not-brother? [Valkyrie fixes Skulduggery with an amused look.]

You try communicating with an alien who has no context for any language on Earth. We'll see how quick you are to judge me then. Ghastly's a good man, Kratos, but you'll find no one is going to take what you've told me as well as I have. Ghastly won't either. The best-case scenario is that he's going to insist we tell the proper authorities, which will be difficult, because we don't have any right now. The worst-case scenario is that he'll refuse to help, and be infuriatingly stubborn about it for at least three days.

Oh, no. Is this like the Sceptre of the Ancients?

This is worse than the Sceptre of the Ancients.

[Valkyrie pauses.] This is worse than a mythical weapon that can turn anything to dust being in the hands of a bad guy?

Yes. [Skulduggery pauses in turn.] Maybe.

[There are a number of implications packed into those sentences, and Kratos sits absorbing them while they discuss this 'Sceptre'.]

Why don't you have any proper authorities?

[This, Kratos deems, is the most salient question, along with:]

Why would he insist on reporting me to authorities you don't have?

[Why is he getting the impression this is related to the angel in the tree and the winter festival.]

We don't have any proper authorities because the previous authority was convicted of a war crime.

[Valkyrie nods.] And the authorities before that were killed by a guy with the Sceptre. So you can see why I'm a little less than reassured here.

[Skulduggery goes quiet for several seconds, tapping one long gloved finger against the steering wheel. Then he tilts his head towards them.] Valkyrie, do you trust me?

What kind of question is that?

An overly dramatic one, I'll admit, but not any less important. Do you remember how you felt when you first learned that your humdrum existence was lingering on the fringes of magic, monsters, and sorcery?

That's a weird way of putting it, but yeah.

You're about to feel like that again. And when you do, I need you to stay with us and keep doing what I tell you to do. [He pauses.] Or start doing what I tell you to do. Kratos, how do you feel about Valkyrie knowing?

[Skulduggery seems to be thinking, enough that Kratos sits quietly while he does, listening to them talk. Then he head-tips.]

She's coming with us to meet your friend, is she not? I assumed she would find out then regardless.

[Skulduggery seems to think the question is loaded, but for Kratos ... hmn. Students and teachers. Kratos has to wonder what the conversation on the docks had been about.]

I suspect that anything that may put me off is something I don't know.

[Skulduggery nods.] That's a good point. In that case, I'm going to have to ask you to trust me as well.

Are you going to come around to some kind of point, or --?

Kratos is an angel.

[That stops Valkyrie dead in her tracks.] What?

On Earth, we have a certain religious institution. It's not the oldest, and it's not particularly the happiest, and yet it's injected itself into the everyday life of most western countries. Part of the religion is that there's one God, and He's served by a hierarchy of angels. Even people who don't consider themselves religious know what angels are. Do you remember the Christmas ornament that soured your evening?

No, seriously, what?

Christmas was originally a religious holiday. Angel decorations are standard.

[Kratos would ask if there's any such thing as a happy religion, but in light of the explanation, being sardonic gets set aside. The description is ... disturbingly familiar.]

I see. So my presence here could be used to allow a single religion to dominate the rest in opposition to free will.

[Damn.]

I should think that would be reason not to report me to the authorities. Or is your friend a practitioner of this religion?

Put simply, yes.

Angels from space?

[Skulduggery ignores Valkyrie's minor breakdown. It might be more difficult for Kratos to do the same, given she's now staring very intently at him.]

No, Ghastly doesn't practice it. [How to explain this.] It's primarily a mortal religion. Most sorcerers don't take kindly to the idea that anyone exists who's more powerful than they are, let alone a hierarchy of beings no one's ever seen.

Space angels?

A large group of sorcerers believe in a race of evil gods instead. Unfortunately, those evil gods do exist. If any of them find out about you, we'd probably have another war on our hands.

You're an alien angel from outer space.

Ghastly, being a bastion for lawful morality, would argue we take this to our current Grand Mage, Corrival Deuce, because we can trust him and he can help us mitigate any damage. The problem with this is that the government's getting moved to Roarhaven.

Do you have wings?

[Kratos manages to ignore being stared at quite easily. There are more important matters than to assuage her curiosity. Instead he says dryly:]

So mortals worship angels, and sorcerers, when they aren't worshipping evil gods, worship themselves. Where do those evil gods live?

[He might have something of a notion. If they came from Niflheim ...]

What's the issue with Roarhaven?

Edited 2017-07-19 06:44 (UTC)

That's an excellent summary. [It is, too. There's no fault in it Skulduggery can see.] As for the Faceless Ones, they live in another dimension. A few of them are dead on this side.

How can you be a space alien angel if you don't have any wings?

The issue with Roarhaven is that it's populated solely by disillusioned sorcerers who think mortals should be slaves. More than a few of them worship the evil gods. We don't want knowledge of you getting anywhere near there.

[A few of them are dead.]

None of them are skeletons, perchance?

[Sword Dancer was something of an anomaly, but still, there's precedence. Kratos hums.]

And what do you think they'd try to do if they found out about me, precisely?

No. None of them are skeletons. Two of them are dust, and one is a shambling zombie creature we tossed back into their dimension over a year ago.

You can't just drop something like that on me and then ignore all my questions!

I have no idea, Kratos. That's what scares me. [Traditionally, no one takes the confirmation a religion they'd written off as hyperbole very well.] We're nearly there now. Just a few more minutes.

[Shambling zombie. Close enough. Kratos sits back again, thoughtful, and turns his gaze to Valkyrie.]

Yes.

Yes -- yes what? Yes, you're an alien angel from outer space? [A small gasp.] Yes, you have wings?

Edited 2017-07-19 08:50 (UTC)

[There is amusement in his eyes and on his face, for those who can see it.]

Yes. To both.

[Valkyrie absolutely cannot see it. The amusement, or the wings.] Well, where are they? Are they too big for the car?

I'd rather no one do anything in my car if they're not very sure it won't damage the upholstery. We're nearly there, Valkyrie. Be patient.

You've just told me angels exist, and you want me to be patient?

Yes.

[Valkyrie grumbles and subsides. The car pulls up on the side of the road outside Ghastly's shop, framed by the familiar run-down neighbourhood. After Skulduggery turns off the engine, he looks at Valkyrie.] See? I knew you could do it.

One of these days, I'm going to smack you.

[Kratos deliberates on answering and ultimately doesn't, since Skulduggery does it for him. Instead he waits until the car is silent before opening the door and unfolding himself from the seat, stretching.]

You need bigger back seats.

[Just an idle constructive criticism. In the meantime he looks skyward, eyes half-closed, to feel out the mana around them -- and, particularly, the mana in the man inside the shop in front of which they've stopped. He has the same four-typed cast as Skulduggery -- except for lacking the shadowed balance and the stillness of wholly-maintained undeath.]

My back seats are perfect. [Skulduggery's tone is affronted.]

[Valkyrie sighs.] And how often do you sit in them again?

Just for that, you're waiting in the car.

[Valkyrie's answer is to push open the door and step out. Skulduggery follows suit, grumbling something inaudible. He settles his disguise on his skull and locks the car behind them. Valkyrie knocks on Ghastly's door.]

[Appropriately, Ghastly opens the door, given a few moments to put down his sewing and get to the door in the first place. There's a faint smile for Valkyrie before he remembers the most recent phone call from Skulduggery.]

Hello, Valkyrie.

What's this about needing a translating artifact in the dead of night?

...and who's your friend?

[An eye for Kratos.]

[Kratos does not smile at Skulduggery's offence -- on the outside, at least. He does move around the car, slower than the other two, and examining their surrounds. It doesn't look a particularly safe area ... Hmm.

[He only turns when the door opens, and inclines his head at the wary gaze he receives.]

Kratos. You're Skulduggery's brother, I take it?

[Yes, that is deliberate.]

Brother-not-brother. [Skulduggery's quick to correct this, especially now that Kratos can apparently speak perfect English.] There was a breakdown in understanding. It's a long story. May we come in?

He's an angel. [Valkyrie's grinning.] An angel from outer space.

Brother-not-brother.

[Repeated blankly. It was that or 'an angel from outer space,' and Ghastly likes to be mildly unpredictable.]

...Ghastly Bespoke.

[Introductions are safe. He nods gingerly to the -- angel from outer space -- and opens his door further.]

Because it'll be more of a headache if I don't know what you're doing.

[... The people here aren't known for their discretion, are they? Kratos shouldn't be surprised. One of them is a skeleton. There isn't much that's less discreet than that. He does not say this, however.]

Thank you.

[Kratos steps inside, gaze sliding to take in the shop, and moving only so far as to let the others in without forcing Mr Bespoke to work to have to keep track of him.]

Does he frequently use that excuse to get you involved?

[Dryly.]

Frequently.

[This said under Skulduggery's breath, with an unmistakeable trace of amusement. And to think they were having trouble communicating their own names less than a day ago.

Valkyrie heads on inside with all the offhand confidence of someone who does this a lot, and could find her way to the back room blindfolded. Skulduggery nods at Ghastly.] You can ignore her. She's utterly wrong.

[You can't be from outer space. That's just silly.]

I did mention that I don't need the artefact anymore, didn't I?

Very frequently.

[That's very considerate of the angel, if he's doing that on purpose. Ghastly shuts the door behind him and motions them through, toward the back room.]

So he's not an angel from outer space, then?

[It would really make Ghastly's day if he wasn't.]

Why did you need the artifact in the first place?

[It really doesn't sound like anyone in this room actually needs translating for. It's a shame he can't snub Skulduggery by not offering him tea any more]

[Kratos bows slightly, obeying the motion to follow Skulduggery and Valkyrie. His gaze continues to take in the surroundings in that subtle way of a warrior, and he stands behind one of the armchairs without sitting.]

When I landed last night I didn't know any of the languages here. Skulduggery assumed he would need the help.

[His face is so blank and he says it so blithely that it's hard to tell whether he means it or not.]

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject