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So how do the rest of you entertain yourselves when you can't have marathon sex to pass the time? Or whatever it is you normally do to keep yourself busy, I suppose.

I should have asked this a week ago, but it would be a good idea to have some suggestions in mind if I get stuck in such an unfortunate situation again.

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[ Is that John's crushing and eternal sense of guilt, or are they trying to make him feel bad after trying to kill him? ]

1/2
I know, I was still sort of there when you did

2/2
I was just confused because I've had people make less successful attempts and gloat more over it.

[Mostly it's Inanna's own crushing sense of guilt resulting in them panicking and regretting having made any kind of post that wasn't focused on their crushing guilt. Which unfortunately does seem like trying to make John feel bad.

Emotions are hard.]

I wouldn't

[There's a long delay before a second message comes through.]

I don't want to hurt you

[ It's a good ten minutes before he finally answers: ]

I know.

[ Then followed quickly by: ]

Wait. Shit.

Edited 2017-08-08 06:59 (UTC)

[Inanna stares at their phone for what feels like forever. What did that mean? Did John not want to admit knowing they didn't want to hurt him?

...That did seem like a very John thing to do.]

Are you okay now??

Alive, and healed as I can get, but that's not the point.

You didn't want, that's the bloody point. Shit.

[ There's another substantial wait between messages with lots of John is typing fluttering across the bottom of the screen, until finally he gives up trying to find a clever or gentle way of putting things. ]

That's what happens after the two years?

Apparently.

...There was never any history about what happened if one of us lived that long.

Could mean you're the first ones to rebel. Usually a reason why things in history are recorded. Or aren't.

[ For all of John's quick wit, his emotional maturity is roughly that of a sack of gravel. Might take him a while to process everything here. ]

The first to succeed at it, perhaps.

[And maybe doom their entire world, but Inanna preferred not to think much about that.]

Seems a bit of a raw deal to have the rules follow you into a world that doesn't even have its own native gods or afterlife.

[ That, and since the rules of this world hit the reset button anytime their sources of entertainment were mortally wounded, it meant watching people John gave a shit about and could help die screaming every twenty-four months or so. But let's not think about that. ]

Edited 2017-08-09 05:52 (UTC)

It's a raw deal either way. ...but it's the price we pay for the sake of the world. Our world, anyway.

[It was a fact now, wasn't it? Woden had confirmed the reality of The Darkness.]

[ This is, in all likelihood, not a conversation that should be had over written messages. But John is an emotionally constipated idiot and he'd be even more likely to deflect if he had to actually speak. ]

You know I'm usually not a fan of deities. Meddlers. Then again, in your world it seems like the primordial ones decided to eat their young. Not a situation you asked to be in.

But I have to ask. What about the next time it happens? What if there's not someone to stop you?

[There is a long, long

LONG

delay.

It lasts long enough that any reasonable person would think that Inanna has decided not to answer at all. It's not a pleasant question after all. Who wants to think about next time? Who wants to even acknowledge that there will be a next time when they'll turn on everyone they care about (or at least value) again?

But finally, some hours later, John's phone buzzes with an incoming message.]

I won't wait for next time to happen.

[ You really must stop asking questions that you don't want to know the answer to, John.

The thing is, in that time skip of a mere few hours he's managed to get obliterated on the gin in his magically-refilling flask, so whatever filters he had in the first place are non-existent. It took his mind off the crippling, horrible wait for an answer, at least. ]

And is that something that would require my assistance?

I couldn't ask you to do that, John.

[ The thing about being someone who doesn't live much with technology is that it becomes much easier to fall into its trappings.

Which may be why terrible drunk texting just slips out of a man that it really, really never should. ]

Technically, that doesn't mean No.

[JOHN, NO]

John, no.

[Definitely trust this scared and traumatized 20-something to take their fate into their own hands when the time inevitably comes.]

[ Somehow, the idea that he'd have to sit by and watch is the worse outcome. What was he then, their entertainment? Some pet project so they felt better about themselves?

It's hard to swallow all of the indignation, even when he knows the meltdown wasn't their fault. ]

I probably deserved a bit of what I got from that whole ordeal anyways.

DON'T SAY THAT

Fine. [ Not that he believes it any less.

Then, as an afterthought: ]

The morphine wasn't so bad, actually. Made painful oversharing conversations much easier, for one.

[ Then, several more painful "John is typing"s later: ]

Speaking of, I think Zee is gone. Figured I might feel less like shit getting out of the hospital, but.

Edited (OKAY I'M SORRY I EDITED THIS 400 TIMES) 2017-08-14 03:17 (UTC)

Oh...

Do you need some company?

[ Yes. No. Who the fuck knows.

She'd been lying beside him when she was ported out, he's certain of it. He wasn't awake yet, but the warmth at his back and the lavender and sage up his nose had vanished in an instant. He'd thought at first she'd slipped out for coffee or a jog, or maybe even she'd woken up in the mood to be left alone. But none of those would leave a lingering sense of hollowness. ]

Can you make sure? If they'll let you. If you're able.

As long as I let them know where I am, it's okay. Do you want me to come now?

[ Noticeably longer than a few minutes later ]

Not sure where I am

Don't worry. I have the stars to guide me.

I do hope that's not as foreboding as you make it sound.

[ When and if they come around, John is sitting sprawled on a building rooftop in Maurtia Falls, still teetering towards alcohol poisoning. ]

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