video; un: leavegodalone

[necrolord]

Is this thing on?

[ The camera opens on a man, but there is something horribly inhuman about his eyes: they are black from edge to edge, the iris burning with a ring of white light. He is flanked by two skeletons which stand at attention, each with a speck of glowing red in their shadowed eye sockets. ]

Been a while since I had to do this. Hey, hello, kia ora. You face the King Undying, the Necrolord Prime.

[ He claps his hands together. There is something wrong with them: the whites of his metacarpals are exposed, flesh crumbled away like so much ash. ]

But let's not stand on formality, right? I hear we're on a first-name basis, now. So: I'm Emperor John Gaius, creator of the Nine Houses, and also God. Not locally, mind, [ and he gestures vaguely upwards, ] here it's a more crowded playing field. I'll admit, it's been an adjustment. I tried to get a peek at my usual domain... turns out Mariana doesn't like to share.

Now, I get that I've made a few mistakes. [ He says this like funny understatement, hands splayed. It shows the bare red tendons in his palms. ] Let's clear up some misconceptions.

[ He stands accused of baby-killing, human sacrifice, and the destruction of whole planets. He riled Mariana into a deadly storm. But what he says, with all the gravity of a king, is: ]

My wife is that hot.

[ Fantastic. Amazing start. He leans in to regard the camera. ]

Look, I get it: I haven't made myself popular. I'll get a lot of kids at my door screaming log off. We're on, what, bloody retribution attempt six or seven? It's been a constant parade of death lasers and witches and kids with swords. And I see where you're coming from. I put a serious damper on everyone's fun vengeance beach party.

But it's getting a little old, so consider this a friendly warning to all my executioners: I will start losing patience. [ He quirks a smile that does not touch his eyes. ] Not to be all, I have over ten billion confirmed kills, but: maybe do not fuck with me.

Cheers.

[ The skeletons perform an ancient First House salute, and the feed cuts out. ]

Comments

[Video] un: QueenCobra

[abornfighter]

[Not quite in camera view, there's some energy that's black, dark blue and glittering.]

More like the Douchelord Prime. Anyway, I made you a present.

[Tory presents the handiwork that she just reality warped: a bag of crochet dicks.]

It suits you.

[necrolord]

[ This is incredible. This is astonishing. He is a vengeful God; he is an almighty lord of death itself; looks genuinely awed and delighted by the nerve and the style. ]

I love it. I'm not kidding. Can you drop it off? This will be my souvenir of the time half of town tried to kick my ass.

[abornfighter]

[That was...not the reaction she was expecting, and her confusion shows in her expression for a moment before she just shrugs and decides to roll with it.]

Sure. Where do you live?

[necrolord]

Gaze. South of the clocktower, north of the graveyard, it's the one with all the skeletons. I'll tell them to let you in.

[ He is, again, not kidding. And it's pretty easy to spot the only dark Victorian manor with reanimated batcat skeletons instead of gargoyles at the gate. ]

[Video] --->Action

[abornfighter]

Should be easy to find.

[Going to his home is probably not the smartest or safest thing she could do, but on the other hand, he does seem amused and she doesn't have enough of a personal vendetta against him to try to physically attack him. Just some generalized anger on behalf of everyone who was hurt by him, and for the dangerous rain brought down on the community for his actions.

The only weapon she brings with her is a sword that she leaves sheathed at her hip. Otherwise, she has the gift in hand and walks with purpose past the reanimated skeletons to knock at his door.]

[necrolord]

[ No, this is a great and hilarious use of time. Pyrrha's still out somewhere, so she can't sigh loudly or shake him for setting up shit like this. (Augustine is still gone, gone, so deep and distant—)

The gates creak open for her. It is very eerie. The skeletons watch her pass in silence.

God himself opens the door, because he's restless and hurting and just wants a reason bored enough for a face-to-face chat. He looks just the same in person: horrible eyes, obvious Corruption, but otherwise unimposingly human. ]

Look at that, my delivery's here. You want to come in? It's very boring getting cancelled without company.

[ He holds up a hand as though to forestall protest. ] If you have a murder attempt to get out of your system first, let's do that bit outside.

[abornfighter]

[At least he's sticking to a consistent motif. Honestly, she'd probably find a bright mashup of rainbows and smiley faces more unsettling. This is spooky, but creepy in a way she'd expected. The moon-shaped necklace The Reckoning left for her on her Blessed Day hangs around her neck, tucked in her shirt, making her feel braver than she normally would upon seeing such a sight. It's also helping to mitigate much of the Corruption.]

I'll leave the murder attempts and beatdowns to people with more personal grudges against you.

[Every single one well deserved. Her Omen, a gold and black dragon roughly the size of an ostrich, touches down on the ground behind her a moment later.]

Think I'll take you up on your offer and come in. Mind if my Omen joins us?

[necrolord]

[ He tips his head in acknowledgment like this is a normal and appreciated take, then focuses on the creature alighting on his doorstep. ]

I am a little offended you have an Omen this cool. [ He seems to mean this with complete sincerity. ] Sure. We're cultivating a real dungeon vibe in here, might as well add some dragons.

[ He waves them in, girl and dragon both. The skeletal servants fall away, shuffling off to other parts of the house; they pass in docile silence as John leads her to the living room. It looks about as she'd expect: grand old wood furniture, everything old and gothic, decorations sparse. One wall has had all the wallpaper torn away in messy strips, but there's still a speckling of spraypaint on the floor beneath it. In one rare sunny corner is a single potted fern. ]

[abornfighter]

[Despite herself, and despite her thoughts on the things he's done, Tory snorts and half smiles at the reference.]

Nerd.

[Daybreak follows after her, watching Tory's back as they walk through the house. Tory glances to the sunny corner inquisitively.]

Taking up gardening? With your skeletons, you could probably pull off some elaborate landscaping outside.

[necrolord]

[ Something in his expression tightens, at acknowledgement of the fern: his smile, already faintly brittle, becomes more so. But all he says is: ]

Not a bad idea. It looks like I could use some new hobbies.

You want anything? Tea? Hard liquor? The blood of the innocent?

[ He has been having a week. ]

[abornfighter]

I'll have some tea and leave you with all the hard liquor.

[He's fucked around and found out with Mariana, and she wouldn't be surprised if the Reckoning was going to come for him soon. Maybe it won't hurt as much if he's completely wasted at the time.]

Where do you want this, by the way?

[She gestures to the gift in hand.]

I mean, a masterpiece like this should go in a place of high importance, right?

[necrolord]

Coffee table, for sure. It'll be my centerpiece.

[ He waves her into a seat, couch or chair, and drops into one across from her. A skeleton servant appears from around a corner and clatters past them, into the kitchen, to fetch their drinks. ]

Don't mind those guys. They're friendly.

[abornfighter]

[She places the crochet bag and dicks down in the middle of the coffee table before taking a seat in a chair.]

They weren't bothering me.

[It's admittedly still odd to see, but compared to everything else she's seen and experienced here, skeletons walking around is relatively tame.]

Being here has helped me get used to plenty of things that would have freaked me out back home. I'm from a place where nobody has any powers, magic, or whatever.

[necrolord]

That would be an adjustment.

[ He slants a sympathetic smile, a little wry. ]

Trench has seemed downright homey, to me. We have a lot of overlapping tastes. Blood, magic, wearing all black. If anything, it's been a surprise that people still jump at the skeletons.

[abornfighter]

How about people transforming into beasts and going berserk? Is that a thing that happens in your world?

[Metaphorically, it's something she understands - her temper has gotten the best of her and caused her to do things she wouldn't have otherwise done if she was calmer and more rational at the time. But in the more literal sense, it's quite alarming.]

[necrolord]

[ The answer is it's complicated, so he lies. ]

We're not so big on the werewolves and vampires back home, no. Small blessings, right? Still: I've seen folks from pretty mundane worlds tackle it head-on. [ If he were in a better mood about Johnny Lawrence, he would acknowledge the sheer balls of anybody who tried to karate-kick Godzilla. ] And the new powers can really be something.

[abornfighter]

The new powers took getting used to...but I like mine now that I've got them mostly under control.

[Accidents happen - and it's especially easy when her powers react to her emotions and needs.]

The bug infestation from before was annoying. Not sure what blood type you wound up with here, but I'm a Darkblood and I just kept making bugs appear out of nowhere in my house. Ants and wasps, mostly.

[necrolord]

We've had a bit of a bug problem around here, too.

[ This is very funny only to him. He will not elaborate.

The skeleton comes clattering back from the kitchen with a tea tray, which it sets down politely between them. Two teacups and no sign of hard liquor; he may be the guy who got a bunch of kids killed or traumatized, he may stand accused of nuking planets, but he's not going to be rude. ]

Darkblood on my end as well. But I still can't make stuff like this. [ He gestures to the dicks. ] I mean— I could, but the materials would be a little different.

[ Nobody wants to see a flesh magician try to make a bag of dicks. ]

[abornfighter]

[She doesn't take the tea right away - it's probably a little too hot at the moment. But it is noted and appreciated that it does smell just like tea without any additives.]

Honestly, that sounds like the perfect gift for my pervert landlord back home.

[Given his manipulation of skeletons, she can imagine what kind of materials he'd be using. While gross...it would definitely send a message.]

[necrolord]

[ He gives a little wincing huff of a laugh, and takes up the sugar to stir into his tea. ]

If he ever shows up— and we'll certainly hope against it— we'll plan on that. In the meantime, I'm short on arts and crafts projects. Maybe I should take up a new hobby.

[abornfighter]

Sounds like a much better plan than pissing off Pthumerians.

[She takes a moment to focus, materializing a sketchbook and a 48 pack of coloured pencils in her hands before setting them down on the coffee table.]

Here, it's my personal contribution toward your new hobby. Way less likely to end in boiling hot rain and massive storms. Unless one of the Pthumerians is an art critic.

[necrolord]

[ Now that's a good trick. Even he, being God, can't pull art supplies out of thin air.

He wonders how long the items hold for— whether they degrade, whether they're permanent. He'll be interested to find out. ]

Much appreciated. [ This he says mildly, but his eyebrows have still risen in impressed consideration. He sets down the spoon and takes up his tea. ] Could be the mid-eternity crisis finally hitting... I can terrorize town with my badly drawn original characters, instead. Apply to be an artist Night Walker.