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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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[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. ]

[Inanna doesn't send another response, but it's not more than three or four minutes before the familiar cloud of glittering stardust makes an appearance, and the Goddess steps out of the mist. They grimace in clear worry when they lay eyes on him.]

John?

Edited 2017-08-21 02:06 (UTC)

[ Seeing someone teleport in a cloud of glitter should perhaps amaze an average person, but John has long since taken such things for granted. At most he squints at Them for a moment, one hand still loosely around the flask. ]

Relax. Not gonna jump. Wrecking my collarbone isn't something I wanna relive.

I'm a little more concerned with how drunk you look. Humans aren't immune to alcohol, you know.

[They hesitate uncertainly, not moving from the spot they've appeared in even though it's clear they'd like to go to John. For obvious reasons they're a little reluctant to actually do so.]

Has it all...healed?

Got cleared by the doctors. M'not gonna die. [ Which succinctly answers both of the concerns Inanna raised. When he'd been ported back in, something had happened to his alcohol tolerance. His hangovers were shorter, but more brutal. It was as if his liver had it's own reset button. Not that it was really the business of present company. ]

How 'bout you? [ His tone is cagey, implying concern less for their own safety and more because of the chance of them being a liability. But he's also too shitfaced for it to matter. ]

[There's no hiding their relief at that. The tension that had been sitting across their shoulders and pinching their brow fades—a little bit. But then, of course, there's John's question, and Inanna can't help looking away. It may be over, but the guilt likely wouldn't ever truly leave.]

I'm...myself again. There's nothing to worry about for another year and some months.

[ There's a brief, thick silence as John considers the reply.

He tilts his head back and tries, desperately, to empty the flask. Whenever the bottom dries it just refills. He swallows frantically in his pointless endeavor.

Without any real food inside of him to vomit, he spits most of the liquid out over the side of the roof before slumping back to a seated position, awkwardly fighting back any further dry heaving. He manages to croak out a reply eventually; ]

A year and change before that fail safe kicks in again. I wonder if it's by design or a side effect.

Edited 2017-08-21 16:34 (UTC)

[Inanna shrugs helplessly and finally sits down. It's more like their knees give out under them, and they slide down the wall to sit heavily on the rooftop. As if they had any idea why the deadline resulted in...what it did. They'd spent so long believing the only cost was their own life. Not—all of this human suffering.]

Does it really matter?

Might help in figuring out how to stop it. If it can be stopped.

[ Instinctively, he curls up a bit more, knees to chest in a way no adult should sit. His body remembers the presence of the heavenly predator and tries to protect itself. He swallows back one more dry heave and adds quietly. ]

I know I haven't done right by you or her or... anyone, actually.

If it stops, the world stops with it. It'd be a return to the Dark Ages. —Worse. Before the spark of civilization even had a chance to take hold.

[Who knows if that's actually true in the face of all of Ananke's other lies, but Inanna's believed it for this long already. It was one of the handful of things that made carrying this curse bearable now.]

So, mankind is doomed if you're gone forever, but just as doomed if you overstay your welcome. Like I said, mate. Bloody raw deal. [ At least they ignored his ridiculous whining. He takes the small victories. ]

Keeping divine beings from mucking up everything so the wee puny mortals have a fighting chance at their own lives, that's the reality I lived in. Never had to deal with a version of the world where the gods were the little guys. Not before your gang.

[ Which is his way of admitting that he should have come up with something by now, one of his signature moves to solve the problem of their expiry dates. Or maybe letting them die would let people be free, even if they'd destroy themselves. Or, most likely of all, it helped prevent John from growing attached to more people he'd inevitably fail.

Yeah, Johnny. Just tell yourself that you're not attached. ]

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