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

[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.