shitposting rave 5: discount rejects from every genre

"Lovely and weird," Ford says wistfully. "A small town in a forest."

 

"It does sound lovely," they remark. "Does the forest eat unsupervised things? Forests are so strange. You could see for days in the desert."

 

"Sometimes, but most forests don't, so much." Ford smiles.

 

-quiet snickering-

 

"In my world," Ford says, and grins at her.

 

Better. -she nods decisively, hiding a grin-

 

"The one I seem to come across most often while slipping through the cracks does. How interesting..."

"Hello there. I am Emre of None. Who are you?"

 

Rayineen, woods-witch. -a significant pause- Formerly. "She covered her eyes, she can see the trees no more"

 

THANK YOU. I APPRECIATE IT, YOU KNOW

BUT LIKE. HERE, FUCK, OK, I'VE STILL GOT ONE FREE JANE REZ, RIGHT? I COULD DO *ANYTHING* I WANT, ANYTHING AT ALL, AND IT DOESN'T MATTER BECAUSE JANE CAN BRING ME BACK. I *WON'T* BUT, I MEAN, I'VE THOUGHT ABOUT IT

 

man i dunno
thats not the same thing i guess
like obviously i dont like the idea because i do actually want you alive to scream sweet nothings into my eardrums
but idk

 

If it makes you feel better, though it probably won't, I can operate on different rules. I don't often do resurrections, life being more my sister's bag, but as a death goddess I can give people something of a... temporary pass. A death that doesn't stick because it's not a True and Permanent death. The only way to reach my halls on my world is to die, but many mortal heroes have sought me so I grant them a temporary death. They still need to do the act themselves, but that's because they need to be willing to face death to fulfill their roles. I have no need to test either of you.

If you need to see your corpse to quiet your head it can be done, with or without your being a god.

Technically my brother is the god of cheating consequences, but that's only because our powers didn't take into account who we were as mortals, only the Color of our souls.

 

-there is suddenly a dead girl in the rave with a short localized flurry of snow. The cold wherever she was is probably why she's so well preserved, other than the extensive magic fuckery anyone who can sense such things would note. (She's also been 'repaired' at least once; visible under her tattered clothes is extensive post-mortem stitching, though most of her visible skin is largely undamaged aside from pre-mortem bruising.) Her eyes are milky but still capable of sight because magic, her skin between dead pale and slightly frozen, and the fingers of her left hand twitch in a repeating pattern. A supremely shitty sword without scabbard is tied to her waist via rope belt. It's a testament to just how shitty the sword is that she can carry it around like that without injuring herself or others, really-

-she tilts her head at the rave, blinking in confusion, but doesn't speak. It's not been a Good Day and she's currently more 'undead monster' than not-

 

Ford grins back. "That was what Emre was asking about, my world."

 

More amused by your assertion that it's not a natural trait of forests.

 

"Perhaps you're ending up on Rayineen's world, or one like it," says Lissa. "If I'm to call you Emre, you should call me Lissa, and him...Ford." She stretches Ford's name out by transliterating it into the Talassani syllabary, with a near-imperceptible glottal stop between the last two consonants, consonants that don't ever elide in their language anyway. "That would be balanced. What's funny is that he's the one who slips through cracks, not me. I can only teleport within the universe I'm in."

 

"It's a natural trait of many forests. But on my homeworld, it's weird. It's one of the things that makes our home weird." Ford smiles. "Our town is at a weak point where it's easy to make cracks, but not wise."

 

Two words for you: black forest.

There's a reason most fairy tales are "stay in the yard and out of the goddamn woods" stories.

 

"I've always wanted to go there," Ford says, "but that's because I'm kind of an idiot about things like that. Fortunately, I'm very good at surviving them."

 

I'll stick to the city. At least the monsters there are familiar. And less hairy.

 

THAT'S BECAUSE IT IS DIFFERENT; JANE IS ACTUALLY GUARANTEED TO BRING ME BACK.

BUT LIKE, HOW YOU FEEL ABOUT ME IS HOW I FEEL ABOUT YOU, OK? SO DON'T--

...ARE YOU OFFERING TO MURDER US BOTH? DID MY AURICULARS NOT ONLY STOP WORKING BUT BEGIN FUNCTIONING AS VERBAL WORD-REPLACERS OR IS THAT WHAT'S HAPPENING?