lifenet | stone phone, mid afternoon on August 8th

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stone phone, mid afternoon on August 8th

[He's far, far too tired to be his normal silly self, as he addresses all his fellow islanders via... rock. It would be inappropriate, anyway.]

Buenas tardes, everyone.

[Ha ha yeah right, is anyone having a good day? Anyone??]

We found a couple pages of another diary out on Umui. It's not a good idea for me to come all the way back, so I'm going to read it out loud. Ready?

[He pauses for a moment before he starts to read, slowly and carefully. At least he has a nice speaking voice?]

That's all I can make out. But, hey, while I'm here... what if this is a curse, not a disease? That could be why those doctors couldn't find a cure. They were going at it the wrong way.

Most of you have been around longer than me, and some of you are more, ah, magically inclined than I am. Maybe it's something you can look into.

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[Muffet sighs, not surprised by the letter's contents, sad though they are.]

A.E. 15, that's a fairly early date- even the monument was A.E. 21, wasn't it? I wonder if perhaps they didn't know it could affect animals yet...

[She considers Hector's point thoughtfully.]

I don't know of any magic that would work quite like this, but my world's magic is hardly the only sort out there. It may be that the disease is at least partially magical in nature- it would explain how it could affect even those of us who aren't physically capable of contracting ordinary illnesses.

[Like, you know. Her.]

[But don't think she missed that first part of what you said, Hector. Now, why is it you're not wanting to come back to Enso? She has a rather nasty little suspicion...]

Where are you, at the moment?

[Like the automatons. Like him, an already dead man. Yes, it has to be a curse. Stupid of him not to consider it sooner, when they learned the robots died too.]

We're from the same world, aren't we? I thought you were an American spider. And I know curses are as real as you and I are. This one's just more dramatic than most.

[But equally as dangerous than the last curse he saw.]

Umui.

Well, we settled in North America eventually, yes.

[Where is Mt. Ebott? We just don't know.]

Perhaps it's a matter for the dead and not the living, then- I haven't dealt with curses as far as I'm aware, but I would have only encountered living magic thus far for... obvious reasons.

[Some part of her wonders if Chara might know more- they were dead for a time, after all. But it might be unkind to ask them if they remember it.]

I see. And where on Umui, precisely?

Wish I knew more, I'm not a curse expert. Death by flowers is new to me. I could find you someone who is, if we weren't stuck here.

[They're all doomed to die for lack of professionals who study these kinds of things. Pity the islanders wound up with useless old Héctor and not a better, more educated skeleton.]

Nope. Not falling for that one, arañita. Sorry.

[Not sorry.]

Oh?

[Muffet's tone is poisonously sweet. Like the flower of a toxic plant.]

My, it seems I've been misunderstood- you sound as though I'm trying to trick you into something. I just thought that you might save me some time spent looking for you. I'm on Umui already, after all, so it would just be ridiculous for me not to visit you.

[Don't talk to him about flowers.

He's tired. Very tired. Why do you have to do this, Muffet? There's none of his usual humor in his voice. Weary old words.]

Look, I'm trying not to spread whatever it is to others. So--[Hang on. She's already on Umui?]

Are you feeling okay?

Then you're a bit late in my case.

[She's not trying to hide it- there's a reason she hasn't left Umui either, not since Arum-25 began making their ominous announcements. Her tone is brisk and her voice is smooth, with only the very slightest whisper of hoarseness to it that might suggest a recent cough. You wouldn't notice it, if you weren't paying very close attention.]

So no, I suppose I'm not- but I suspect I'm feeling quite a bit better than you are, right now.

[Bad news, but not much of a surprise. She's not going to be the last islander who tells him they're sick and he knows it.

Dying friends. It never gets any easier.]

You don't know that. But I'm a long ways off from the mana pool, so... let's rest for now. I'll be there sometime tomorrow.

You just take it easy.

[Look at Héctor, trying to be the responsible one and tell her what to do! When has that ever worked out for him?]

Did you know that I used to be a dancer?

[It's a bit of a non sequitur, this odd little admission in an offhand tone.]

It was never more than a hobby, but I enjoyed it for quite some time, when I was young and still had the time to spare for it.

[Her voice firms.]

It's why I know what someone trying to walk on an injured leg looks like. If one of us is going to be traveling, it should be me.

[She doesn't need to be a former dancer to have seen the crack in his leg going all the way through the bone, barely covered up by his duct tape bandaging.]

Ehh, the dead don't really feel p--[A strangled noise escapes him, cutting him off and proving that's a big fat lie. He can handle constant pain, it's just part of his existence. Unexpected sharp shooting pains, not so much.

It takes a moment before he trusts himself to speak again.]

I'll have to travel back either way, arañita.

[She'd wondered, at first, whether it was truly a wound or simply an odd quirk of his dead state. But the way he walked confirmed it soon enough.]

Meet me halfway, at least. There's no need to put yourself through any more pain than necessary.

[Oh, now he gets it. Haha.]

I'm too tall for you to be carrying me around. It'll look dumb. More like a drag than a carry.

You'd be surprised- I'm much stronger than I look.

Yeah, and I'm lighter than I look.

My feet are still going to be dragging on the ground, admit it.

I admit nothing of the sort- I'm certain you'd fold up quite neatly.

Ah, yeah, that's true. I had someone try to smuggle me across the bridge in a mini-fridge once.

[Pity it didn't work. Magic bridges can't be fooled as easily as people.]

...the bridge?

[That part's new to her.]

Ahh... it's a complicated dead guy thing, don't worry about it.

What makes you think it's a curse? Simply because there was no cure?

[As usual, the discovery of more pages is worrying, but he has more experience in the aforementioned topic.]

It killed all these automatons. And I've been dead for almost a century, I'm not flesh and blood like most of you, but it's spread to me anyway.

[May as well admit it, for further evidence it might be a curse. Everyone will figure out he's sick soon enough.]

This place does not respect the dead. I found myself alive upon my entry, as well. Somehow, I fear that's a consequence of this land more than this disease.

[But still, It's Bad.]

It is strange to see a disease that seems to feed off life itself, as oppose to something more... tangible.

Like this place respects anyone. We're not getting special treatment. Or... uh, mistreatment.

[At least they can all suffer together.]

I don't have life, I'm still as dead as ever. Memory is what keeps me around.

Unless you count our arbitrary selection process, that is.

[But, more on that some other time.]

If you can get sick and are fearful for your death, I would say you must be some sort of alive. Though I confess, I'm a bit jealous you were allowed to keep a skeletal form.

[He misses his skeleton face, okay. Breathing and eating and things are so hard.]

Edited (that wasnt the icon i picked dw) 2018-08-21 03:31 (UTC)

Well... you know, there's three deaths. I've had the first and maybe the second. Not the third yet. I didn't know I could get sick though, or I wouldn't have kept exploring Umui.

[He wiggled his way out of the final death once, next time he might not be so lucky. And he can't take anything for granted--probably most of the Enso people don't know these things.]

Ooh, yeah. I don't miss sweating all day. Wonder why you and not me?

Three?

[He is curious about that. He can think of two- the passing to the Astral Plane and when the conciousness lets go from the soul- but a third? He said something about memory... who knows.]

But honestly, I don't know. Perhaps because I wasn't exclusively a skeleton? It all feels arbitrary at this point. Whatever this world thought would be the funniest to see me struggle through, I presume.

First one, that's obvious. Second one is when your body is laid to rest, if you're lucky enough to have that. The final death is when no one alive remembers you. Then you disappear.

[He's silent for a moment. He can't begin to count how many times he's seen people go... but now isn't the time to think about the past. Or his future. Only today matters.]

So I'm going along like normal in the spirit world and my body's, I don't know, wherever in the living world. Could be why I'm still a skeleton, it was easier than bringing my body back to life. Or we're both idiots for trying to make sense out of this place.

[He listens intently, thinking about that process. He'd never thought about another death involving the body. Everything has been about the soul for him, but... he can see how that would be important, to the living.]

That makes more sense. I was dead, but not-- in the same way as you, I don't think. I believe the correct term is undead? In service to a goddess, so granted exceptions. I certainly don't need to worry about if people remember me.

[Because hardly anyone ever does. His title, sure. But that's a different story.]

So I'm a skeleton ghost and you're a zombie, got it.

[He sounds amused for a second there. Yeah, he's just barely modern enough to know about the zombie craze. It's hilarious in the land of the dead.]

What do you do for this goddess?

[There he goes again, asking questions on Enso, the Isle of Trauma. He has only himself to blame for whatever comes next.]

[He snorts.]

I'm not a zombie, nothing so crass, please. I'm her agent. I work to preserve the balance of life and death and stop such phenomena from occuring.

[What're you talking about, Hector, this is a nice conversation. Hell, he looks downright proud of the words coming out of his mouth.]

Some societies called me the Grim Reaper, that was my favorite. But I have plenty of titles.

[Or well, had. Outside this hell island where he has to breathe and can't rule over the dead. It's very annoying, actually.]

She's not... Santa Muerte, is she?

[That would be fantastic, honestly, but what are the odds? Not much in this world has been familiar or pleasant.]

And I'm guessing you can't send me back to where the dead belong.

[He searches through his head for the name, but--]

My Lady goes by many names. Different cultures have different names for us. I don't recognize that one specifically, but it is possible. She's known most commonly as the Raven Queen.

[After having so many people tell him that she didn't exist, it's refreshing to think that maybe others have the proper respect for her.]

But... no, I'm as trapped here as you are, at the moment. Like I said. Unpleasantly alive. Trust me, if I had a way to set this right, I already would have.

No, no, I believe you.

[It's a struggle to not sound disappointed, even so. And it's far from the first time he's known perfectly well something's impossible and tried anyway.]

We must be thinking of different ladies. I think she has owls, not ravens.

[Man, it's about time he met someone willing to go back to the dead like they belong. You are soothing his heart here, buddy.]

It... may be so. Perhaps different worlds iterations of her were just a bit off.

[A slight pause.]

Did you know her?

[Listen, he would get down on his knees and beg for a chance to go home. What a lousy island experience this is.]

Oh, me? No, not a chance. I'm nobody. [He shrugs on the other side of the stone, unseen.] I don't even know anyone who knows her. It's all rumors, 'a friend of a friend met her once'. It's not like here, where you can just go hang out with the Storyteller every day if you want.

[If he could only give it to him, honestly.]

Mm, that... makes sense. She doesn't tend to mingle with most commonly dead souls. It's a safety thing, I imagine.

[Or just, y'know, what time would a god have to hang out with every individual dead person. There's billions of them.]

Sadly, though, I doubt the Storyteller will be able to fix this for us, even with a much more personal relationship.

And if you've seen one dead guy, you've seen them all, right? It's nothing special, we're still ordinary people. I feel like the most normal person here sometimes.

[Death happens to everyone eventually, it's a cliche for a reason. And he certainly doesn't fit in with gods and aliens and monsters...]

...suppose there are some things even a god can't do.

[He nods solumnly, even if it can't be seen.]

It takes many gods to shape the universe. Many movements, all correlating to one action.

[A slight pause.]

If my Lady is able to find me, I will not leave without bringing you back to your home. I promise.

Thanks, I appreciate it. You can tell her it's not my fault I was... kidnapped, I suppose.

[Why?? Why would anyone kidnap him?? He's pretty damn useless and there's no one who would pay ransom money to get him back, for pity's sake.]

Oh, I'm Héctor. Who are you anyway?

Don't worry. You will not be tried for this- I believe your testimony.

[He only realizes once Hector introduces himself that he hasn't, and clears his throat.]

I'm sorry, I-- should have said that earlier. My name is Kravitz. A pleasure.

Good to know. That's all I need, to get punished for something i didn't do... after being dumped on this stupid island in the first place.

[Oops. Should he really have said that?]

No, that's completely understandable. I'll vouch for you. I'm sure my Lady will be merciful considering the circumstances.

[He's a victim, after all, not a perpetrator.]

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stone phone, mid afternoon on August 8th

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We can probably wrap this unless you want to do more with it.

she should see his flowers tho if you want to be cruel

Well, she'll be seeing them in the other thread anyway...

o7

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