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

I don't like it, and I'm resigning.

[Ghastly considers his options. Considers how much he doesn't want to have to deal with Corrival later, and how much he wants Skulduggery to take the heat for this.]

[In the end he reaches over, shoves the phone at Skulduggery, and 'accidentally' ends the call while doing so. This is definitely now Skulduggery's fault.]

We can talk to Corrival later. In person.

[Where he can be distracted by the angel.]

Wait a m--

[Kratos watches Ghastly hang up with understated bemusement and amusement.]

You believe it's safe for me to go to the seat of your government for that?

[The phone rings. So does Ghastly's landline. So does Valkyrie's phone. Kratos is impressed by the versatility of their communication devices.]

Yes, demons. You've none here?

[Valkyrie holds her phone pointedly up to Skulduggery and Ghastly, looking and sounding exasperated.] Really?

I think... [Skulduggery ignores Valkyrie completely.] ... that anyone hearing rumours of angels would be looking for someone with obvious wings. Having said that, there's no chance you can turn invisible, is there?

[It's not a serious question, unless the answer is yes, I can turn invisible, which Skulduggery doubts. So, rather than wait for an answer, he strides over to Ghastly's landline and answers the phone.] You know that was Ghastly's fault, I hope.

[Valkyrie pockets her own phone and rounds on Kratos.] If you're talking about the red horned kind with pitchforks, no. Do you mean actual demons from hell?

Corrival can come here. [With a stubborn sort of clench to his jaw. Ghastly is doubling down on this, mostly because he has already done it and cannot un-hang up the phone.]

[It does, however, end in what he wanted: Skulduggery on the phone with Corrival. So... not the worst outcome. Probably. For Kratos:]

There are things that people would probably be justified in calling demons, at least. Not technically correct, but close enough?

That depends on your definition of invisible.

[He can turn into light, but hasn't really experimented with staying like that, it's true. Still, most people can't see light dissolved, even if the process of it could be a bit bright.]

I DON'T CARE WHOSE FAULT IT IS, PLEASANT, I'M COMING OVER THERE TO VISIT MY OLD FRIEND AND YOU CAN SHOW ME WHAT YOU'VE GOT HIDING IN HIS BACK ROOM.

[Kratos nods, very slightly, at Valkyrie.]

Niflheim. It's -- a place outside of your own, but there is nothing there but demons and terror.

[And occasionally the shades of fallen angels. He speaks of it grimly, as would one who knows.]

[... Or unless the answer is 'that depends on your definition of invisible'. Skulduggery gives Kratos a look, but decides to file the question away for another time, in the face of Corrival's shouting.

He doesn't like it when Corrival shouts. Not because it shames or guilts him in any way, but because it happens rarely despite how bull-headed Corrival can be. His level-headed objectivity is one of the things Skulduggery respects about him. If he's shouting, either things are worse than Skulduggery thought, or the stress of being Grand Mage is tremendous.]

I'm not going to change your mind, am I. Alright. We'll wait here for you. Try to be a little calmer when you see him, he's very easily frightened.

[For all that Kratos's tone talking about Niflheim is sobering and unnerving, Valkyrie can't help laughing. Easily frightened. Sure. Next to Kratos, Valkyrie's the one easily frightened. Corrival sure can shout.]

In the midst of all this, there's the tinkling of a bell at the shop door.]

[Ghastly is beginning to wonder if hanging up was the wisest idea. He hasn't heard Corrival yell like that in... quite a while. ... And yet he's still glad Skulduggery is the one dealing with it, as this is all Skulduggery's fault.]

Are we talking about the same angel?

[You know what? He's just... not going to address the Niflheim thing. He doesn't like the sound of any of that, and also there's someone coming in, and that's not a great combined recipe.]

--Excuse me a moment.

[Ghastly delicately steps around everyone else to go see if the person at the door should be offered tea or polite refusals. Or impolite refusals.]

[No one directs another question at Kratos, which is perhaps just as well, because somewhere between Valkyrie's laughter and Ghastly's disbelief, Kratos stiffens. He straightens up, all geniality dropping away into granite sternness, and he turns automatically towards the door in response to that time-threaded mana waiting.

[Kratos, this is Saracen Rue. We fought in the war together.

[One more time: you don't remember anything beyond what I'm doing in this room here?

[Spirits. Spirits, that is -- that is not a good sensation. At all. For all the seal and Origin's power, Kratos had not previously remembered events two days before they occurred.]

Edited (add thot) 2018-10-20 03:37 (UTC)

[Skulduggery notices. Whoever's come in, they have Kratos's undivided attention. It could be a good thing, or even an irrelevant thing, but Skulduggery's rarely that lucky. Which makes it all the more confusing when the voice he hears out on the shop floor belongs to the most nonthreatening person he can think of.

Meanwhile, out on the shop floor, Saracen is eyeing off the back room and, for the time being, avoiding it. He's not making it obvious that he's avoiding it. Mostly he's just beaming at Ghastly, and if the smile's maybe a little too broad for the situation they're in, he's sure not going to mention it.]

Hey, Ghastly! Long time no see.

Saracen!

[This is the best thing that has happened to Ghastly all day. There's a cheerful smile right back at Saracen. Notably, Saracen is not an angel, is not a yelling Grand Mage, and is not Skulduggery being inscrutable and infuriating. Ghastly's day is better already, probably.]

It's been too long.

[Ghastly gestures at the back room.]

You picked a-- well, not a good time. Not a bad time. A weird time? Skulduggery's here too. He can explain things.

[Yes. That's it. Pass the problem back to Skulduggery.]

[Kratos moves with intent, without truly choosing it, and appears in the doorway just as Ghastly is gesturing to it. His gaze, forbidding, goes directly to Saracen.

[Would it help if I promise not to do it?]

Is this the value of your promises?

[Even if Saracen had not explicitly said the words -- perhaps Kratos should have asked for explicit words. But then, he isn't the one hopping back in time, and manipulating events to avoid such a thing. Such actions steals all control from individuals and places it in Saracen's hands.

[It isn't right. It isn't any more right than what Kratos had done to Aselia.]

Edited 2018-10-20 04:41 (UTC)

[Ghastly's smile is still one of the nicest smiles Saracen's ever seen. It's the genuine grin of someone who's never learned their smiles are charming enough to get them what they want -- none of Erskine's plasticity or Hopeless's quiet pride. Just the ready smile of a happy person. It makes Saracen feel all warm.]

Yeah, I know. Scary angel in the back room. Weird's a good word for it.

[Which is about as far as Saracen gets before Kratos, tall and foreboding, interrupts them.]

Oh, for the love of -- !

[He didn't remember the first few times. He wasn't at Saracen's landing point. Where is the rule. Where is it.

The point he brings up, however much Saracen doesn't want to hear it, however much it's coming from what Saracen has learned is a very biased source, is a valid one. Saracen promised. Not in so many words, but he did. So, with the initial frustration and exasperation expelled, Saracen breathes out long and slow and shakes his head.]

No.

... Starting now?

[He's not asking for permission. He's asking for a truce.]

How did you--

[Ghastly stops himself there. Of course Saracen knows. Why does he actually bother asking at this point.]

[But he looks between angel and Saracen and knows he's missed something, that they're having some kind of conversation Ghastly has missed half of, only when have they had the opportunity to talk? Does Kratos, too, just know things? Is Saracen an angel.]

[...It might explain a few things, but Ghastly refuses to believe in Saracen as any kind of heavenly messenger. Nope. Not happening.]

Would either of you like to explain?

[He's not expecting they will, but he'd really like to know what's going on here.]

[Kratos crosses his arms, his face a flat line and eyes narrowed. It doesn't sound like a concession; and, Kratos has to remind himself, he does not have a duty of care over this world. He does not have a right to dictate what happens in this world.

[So: not concession. Negotiation.]

Terms?

[He suspects, given Skulduggery's reaction and Ghastly's now, that Saracen has not told the people around him what he can do. He also suspects this will be part of the negotiation; but 'starting now' is not precisely a good beginning when Saracen came here expecting Kratos not to remember. He expected to be able to navigate away from the difficulty. That does not bode well.]

[Saracen looks at Ghastly, then back at Kratos. Kratos isn't honestly expecting him to talk frankly about this now, is he? Not without the ability to erase it so Ghastly doesn't remember.

Hang on, he can do it. He just has to find the right words.]

Not for as long as you're here, barring Darquesse-level destruction. Which -- now that I think about it, Darquesse has something to do with the angels, doesn't she?

[The last bit Saracen says to Ghastly, in a politely curious tone instead of his habitual knowing one.]

It would explain how one person manages to destroy the entire world.

[...Saracen, asking like he doesn't know? That's surreal. Ghastly hesitates, then shakes his head.]

No, I don't think so?

[This is accompanied by a hopeful look over at Kratos. Ghastly isn't sure, but he feels like -- generally -- there would be a different sort of devastation if angels were involved. Darquesse brings apocalypse, but not holy fire. Probably.]

What do you mean, not as long as he's here?

[This is, again, about half of a conversation that Ghastly really wishes he had all of.]

Darquesse has nothing to do with angels.

[A little forbiddingly. Kratos -- suspects -- based on some things now, and the memories leading up to the first, second and third time he and Saracen met. He takes a breath for more, and bites back on it; because not as long as you're here still seems like a bare level of grudging concession, not understanding.]

You'd be surprised what one person can do, given the right power.

[These words are more carefully chosen than his originals would have been, but his gaze is still penetratingly, pointedly unblinking at Saracen.]

[It's not very different from some of the things the professor said all those years ago, those sorts of bitingly polite, but extremely pointed, statements. The only thing that makes Saracen note it as something to be concerned about at all is the fact that an angel is saying it. Last he checked, angel trumps professorial father figure. Last he checked, angel also trumps childhood friend, but that shouldn't really play into things, given that the last time Saracen met said childhood friend, they stabbed him.

So he doesn't answer, and just looks steadily back at Kratos.

Skulduggery comes in behind Kratos, and although he can't possibly have missed the atmosphere in the shop, his voice is bright and unconcerned.]

Ah, I see you two have met. Would an introduction be superfluous at this point?

Can you two stop speaking in cryptic half-sentences?

[Said with the yearning hope of a man who knows he is probably not going to get what he wants, but who nevertheless lives in hope, and must try anyway.]

There could be tea. We could have a conversation.

[The lack of response makes it plain that Saracen is handing over the situation to Kratos; and at least part of that is due to -- whatever extreme desire he has not to let his friends know what he can do. It's a desire Kratos both understands and condemns. He'd been wrong too.

[He knows, too, that Ghastly's said something legitimate, that he's being inescapably rude; but the juggernaut of action and intent is still too ingrained to turn aside. Kratos looks back at Saracen, eyes narrowed; takes a breath, and explicitly tries to relax. It's a bit like watching a coiled spring unravel, and doing so deliberately.

[I want to talk more about this, he says wordlessly, projecting to Saracen alone. You do your friends an injustice by vying so desperately to maintain their ignorance. That last phrase, 'maintaining their ignorance', is all tangled up with other things; layered like Saracen's time is layered, and made of things like regret watching the world turn and knowing he's formed it without the consent of others; and Lloyd's shock at discovering his father's identity; and the solid shape of the seal threading time and space together within him, dictating his actions against consent.

[It's difficult to rein that in, when he remembers the half-conversations they've had, barely making it to a whole one across several different timelines. I recognise that this is not my world, and you are not mine to condemn. But I will render to you the opportunity to discuss your capabilities with someone you cannot fool. I can't imagine you've had many of those.]

Far be it from me to agree with someone about not wanting more puzzles, but in this case, we certainly could have a conversation.

[Skulduggery still sounds bright and unconcerned. Over in the other corner of the shop, Saracen mostly looks like something inside his brain just snapped, staring wide-eyed with shock and a hint of fear. He doesn't move, and he certainly doesn't say anything. Skulduggery spares him a glance.]

Go easy on the telepathy, please, Kratos.

[Telepathy, Saracen thinks. Of course it's bloody telepathy. Only it definitely came with a tangle of strong emotion and he has the strangest idea that he's already made all of the worst mistakes of his life, and he's somehow come back from all of them to have a second chance, except he's making all the same mistakes again, and it's an idea that doesn't quite fit in his mind. It leaves him feeling like he's teetering at the edge of a yawning chasm.

Even if he wanted to reply, he can't. Thinking communicative thoughts feels too much like Hopeless is back. How dare an angel try to act like he's half the man Hopeless was, or means half as much to Saracen as Hopeless did?]

Forgive me.

[It's murmured and genuinely contrite, gaze on Saracen. Of all the things these people are capable of, somehow it hasn't occurred that having someone speak in their heads might be somewhat beyond merely 'unexpected'; and Kratos is aware his emotions were not as leashed as he was attempting.

[He rouses himself with a shake of the head, and turns.]

I'm sorry for my rudeness, Mr Bespoke. Some tea would be appreciated, yes.

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

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