VIDEO

[killtime]

[ The camera angle is. Bad. This is a person who does not know how to use their communicator well. They probably can't even take a proper selfie. All that's showing is a pair of combat boots moving around in the grass — someone's backyard? — and in the distance, much farther out, a tree that (oddly enough) has a single board nailed to it for a reason only the gods know. It's not even nailed on straight.

The boots stop wandering. It's quiet for a moment.

Then there's a thwip, almost like the sound of a rubber band, and a thunk moments later, as an arrow hits the crooked board, dead center.

Unceremoniously then, a woman's voice: ]

Any of you know shit about teenagers?

[ Another thunk. A second arrow, its head practically kissing the first where it strikes. ]

What do normal fifteen-year-olds do these days?

[ Thunk. A third arrow. Three for three.

A mutter then, half to herself: ]

Fuck. Probably better get around to the whole "birds and bees" thing.

Comments

[killtime]

[ There's a pause. Then she makes a disgruntled little noise. The boots come towards the camera, then the feed shakes as the communicator gets picked up and —

Ah. There she is. Dark-haired. Severe face. Ambiguously adult.

Flatly: ]

I aged well.

[besainted]

The safe answer is enthusiastic and unconditional agreement, probably. You've got me curious, though -- am I allowed to ask your age in this case?

[killtime]

[ Dryly, like she knows it's an impossible task: ]

Guess.

[besainted]

[ uh huh, he knows the only correct answer to a lady who has demonstrated such accuracy with weapons ]

Hmm ... twenty-two.

[killtime]

[ She sees you, Damian. ]

Tactful.

[besainted]

[ soooooooo innocently: ]

What, too low?

[killtime]

Not by much. [ Wryly: ] Couple millennia, maybe.

[besainted]

Now that is impressive. You're not nearly dust and bone enough for a woman of half your age. [ yes he is hilarious, thank you. ] Are you human, or something else?

[killtime]

I'm human. [ Though there are days she's less sure about that than others. Hard to live almost seven thousand years and not have doubts. ] I was born, just like everyone else. And I'll die. I just haven't yet.

[ It's more of a retort than an actual question when she asks back: ]

Are you?

[besainted]

I am thoroughly and unspectacularly human, I'm afraid.

But I'm sure you've noticed it doesn't take that long for most humans to die. What's different for you?

[killtime]

I don't know.

I've never known.

And I'm an otherwise unremarkable piece of shit, so it's not like I fucking won some cosmic contest.

[besainted]

There are people that would probably argue otherwise.

If old age doesn't seem likely to do it, what about injury and illness?

[killtime]

Those people would get sick of it about two, three hundred years in.

[ Almost dismissively then: ]

I don't get sick. And I've never had an injury that stuck.

[besainted]

Does that mean you heal supernaturally?

[killtime]

Fuck if I know. Shit grows back. It's messy. Hurts like a bitch too. Does that sound supernatural to you?

[besainted]

If it grows back, yeah, I'd say that's supernatural. Usually that's the only realm of reptiles.

[killtime]

Maybe I'm a fucking reptile.

[besainted]

A reptile with great aim. But I guess you've had time to work on that.

[killtime]

Guess so.

[ Mildly then: ]

Now you conveniently know a fuckton more about me than I know about you.

[besainted]

[ and whose fault is that! maybe stop answering random interrogations on the network!!

but because he's SUCH a nice guy: ] Oh — you're right, sorry about that. I'm Damian Saint Lorrant, I can make little blue flames since I arrived here, and I'll probably die within the next hundred or so years, if my luck stays good. Better?

[killtime]

[ LISTEN MAYBE BEING SURROUNDED BY FRIENDS AND FAMILY ALL THIS TIME HAS SOFTENED HER UP A BIT OKAY GOT HER GUARD DOWN LIKE ]

Little blue flames?

[besainted]

Just what it sounds like. They do absolutely nothing, as far as I can tell.

[killtime]

[ Dryly: ]

Wouldn't mind trading you. It would save me the trouble of always finding my lighter anyway.

[besainted]

I said they do absolutely nothing, and unfortunately I meant it. They're room temperature flames. Still want a trade?

[killtime]

Would it surprise you if I said yes?