Barely past where we usually meet the ferry. It wasn't even that dark out where they'd gone yet, I still had clear sight of them. They weren't up all that high yet either, maybe a couple hundred feet.
[High enough to fall too hard, though. That's for sure.]
[His thoughts exactly. High enough to hit the water in a way that would be fatal, even if they weren't dead before they did so.]
So something doesn't want us out on the lake. But the ferry can safely traverse it.
[Maybe those who stole the ferry were on the right track, apart from smashing it.]
The river is the same, there's something wrong about the water here. And the fire. It doesn't shed light. Doesn't catch properly. The bonfire is not even truly burning.
Well, we know light's a problem. Knew about the river. But because the harbor is safe, I'd thought the lake would be something a person could travel on for at least a little while. Thought the worst that could happen was getting lost.
[A deep drink to that toothy bullshit out there. He should probably explain, though, because Kuai keeps asking about Stone and Bodhi and they're important too but they have nothing to do with his own unfortunate discovery.]
Dunno if it's like this everywhere but past the peninsula lighthouse, the lake has fish. You know what fighting fish are?
[He's familiar with both but he guesses that Rosinante isn't talking about the fancy ones people keep in bowls to look pretty.
In a shocking show of impropriety he reaches for the bottle to refill his glass. He's not feeling anything from this first one, and in all honesty he's not really sure if he can even get drunk with how his metabolism works. But he's going to find out today.]
I didn't think anyone would be out fishing considering what you caught last time.
[An odd assumption, he thinks, but all right. He eyes the drink in his glass.]
I was with Jason. The blond kid. We were sailing just to explore, thinking maybe we'd find more of the town. Fish came up underneath us - big ones, lots of teeth. They chewed right through the boat in seconds.
[He nods yes to answer. While drinking, because sometimes he just pulls dumb shit like that. Ends up spilling booze down the front of his shirt, which he really should have predicted, then sputters in trying to recover himself and some small amount of dignity. Hmph. Well, he'll try his best to dry off and then wipe the table with a napkin before refilling the glass and continuing as if that hadn't happened.]
A letter, huh? Might be the church spirit, since that's the one who brings people back. Needed the lantern to put his soul back into it. I wonder how it gets around without people noticing?
I'm not even sure if he came back, I haven't seen him since.
[Kuai doesn't sound terribly upset about that. Of the people from home he wants to associate with, his brother, as he is now, is definitely not one of them. He only arches an eyebrow at Rosinante, after what they've all been through, they're allowed some improprieties. Kuai himself is drinking more than he should, wondering if he should stop, but then also not having a good reason to do so. He's not a Grandmaster here. Who is he trying to impress?
He groans and rubs his eyes. Even thinking that is tugging at his delicate sense of honor.]
It somehow got into my room without my knowledge and then got back to the church. That was my fault though, it didn't occur to me that keeping the lantern would prevent his return. I'm glad it didn't get accidentally broken.
[Not sure? He fumbles through his coat pockets for his tablet, then sets it on the tabletop. Let's answer this the way he's so rapidly become accustomed to. Don't mind him fiddling with it, Kuai - he's listening, but he's also flipping through screens to find the network contacts list.]
Aziraphale talks to it sometimes, I think. Maybe ask him if he knows how it gets around.
[Or, Rosinante might ask the angel himself anyway. It's interesting. After a second or two more, he turns his tablet and pushes it toward Kuai.]
His tablet is registered as "subzero", right? Shows him still there so at the very least his access hasn't been canceled yet.
[Bi-Han. So the mystery shadow man has a name. He could have asked him directly, but he's never felt all that compelled to try to get to know the guy. Sometimes it's worth it to act benevolently toward such people if there's a benefit to be had from their cooperation but Bi-Han doesn't seem likely to offer him much of anything he wants.]
I see. In any case, the spirit isn't on the network, no. I think the ones who have spoken to it just left it notes and gifts in the church.
[Who, indeed. He'll let Kuai wonder, for he has no idea. A spirit? Maybe. One of the others? Honestly just as plausible given his brother's personality. Self-defense. But he's not going to say that aloud.]
I've never seen the church spirit fully, no. Just a glimpse. Its hand slipping through the trap door. If you're quick enough to open your eyes you can catch that much before it leaves. Nothing more, though. I'd ask Aziraphale, if I were you and wanted to know details. If he doesn't know them personally he might direct you to someone who does.
Hm. I suppose it doesn't much matter, I'm merely curious. Which seems to be the way of everything here: so many questions, very few answers.
[Maybe he will ask Aziraphale, just so he can get an answer to something in this place. He should probably also contact Bi-Han and get his side of the story before Kuai has to prevent a massacre.]
What do you give our chances of actually finding out .. anything about what's going on?
[An unusually blunt answer from him as he knocks back more of his drink and lets the glass settle heavily on the table. He didn't come here to think hard thoughts. He'll do it anyway, though, but damn.]
Better than chance. We're doing what we can. But I can't just make up odds when space monsters are out there coming to turn out the lights and we don't know the first thing about how to tackle them.
[He has both hands around his glass, watching the liquid spin around as it's chilled from his fingers. Now that he's asked the question he's positive he didn't really want the answer. Agreeing with Rosinante doesn't make it any harder to swallow.]
We'll make it. We have to, there's no other choice. So we do what we must.
[This is getting kind of deep and he sorta wishes he was full on hammered to not have to think about this. He can't even remember the last time he's been drunk. Years and years ago. Probably sometime after Bo' Rai Cho dragged him away from trying to kill himself as some pointless atonement for murders he didn't remember committing.
Welp, that's an even worse thought. Back to the bottle he goes to pour himself another.]
Let's talk about anything else. Pretend we're not here for a while.
[He silently raises his drink in a toast to that, then gulps some of it down. Already time for a refill, he's going through it too quickly, but it's hard to find the effort to care. He's tired still, a sort of lingering exhaustion more than any result of being underslept; and besides, it takes a lot for a man his size to get drunk.
Though it's starting to take effect, slowly but surely. He can tell, because the things that come to mind that he wants to ask about are things maybe best left alone, but he's damned well going to ask at least one of them anyway. If it gets awkward, he can blame it on the alcohol, it's an easy scapegoat.]
You and the other Grandmaster, Hasashi. You were together, weren't you?
[He does not choke on his drink or sputter or go red. In fact he merely goes completely still, his eyes flicking up to Rosinante's as if that's the only part of him that still functions.
Of all the things to talk about that one had not crossed his mind. While they were more than obvious to anyone who had seen either of them together for more than thirty seconds, Kuai is still utterly convinced of their stealth and that they were holding to the utmost bounds of propriety.
However; Rosinante had seen his death, felt how he felt about seeing Scorpion in Grandmaster Hasashi's place. And Kuai had let slip that he'd go back to the Netherrealm simply because he would be there.
Eventually he looks down at his drink again.]
Yes.
[Time to down that all in one go and get another.]
[He's known for a while, he thought. Suspected, certainly, but the kind of suspicion that doesn't actually really need confirmation. It's sweet, though. Maybe bittersweet, given the circumstances.]
Wish I'd gotten to know him better while he was here, but he seemed to keep to himself. Not that I blame him. Dying isn't an easy thing.
[He refills his glass, and hovers the bottle near Kuai's. There's still whiskey if he wants it; otherwise, plenty of other things to drink at the bar.]
[Considering even he and Kuai didn't speak very often, he's not surprised that Hanzo kept to himself.
He tilts his glass towards the bottle, silent indication to fill him up again. At this point he's lost track of how many he's had. Three? Four? Too many he's sure.]
No, but at least he has experience with it. He's died several times before. But all this is new.
[He nods to the rest of the room, indicating the place at large.]
I guess he would, given the nature of your world's Netherrealm, but yes. This is still different.
[And he can't imagine it ever gets easier. He's died three times himself now and only the second time was quick and painless. Wouldn't it be nice if they were all like that? But he doesn't mention it, not wanting Kuai to have to remember exact circumstances of his - ... boyfriend?'s death.
The world feels more appropriate for young people, but oh well. It's staying in his own head.]
Sorry, this probably isn't helping any. We all have people we miss, though, and sometimes it's nicer to think about those good memories than the things around us here.
[Even the knowledge that Rosininate thought that would cause Kuai to immediately die of embarrassment. Not that he has a better term for whatever their relationship is. Just Grandmasters being Grandmasters.]
It's true. Though it's somehow much easier to dwell on the bad memories than the good. It takes so little spoil something, and so much to redeem it.
Maybe we can make better memories here. Good ones to think on when all is dark and depressing.
[He's just drunk enough that he can't think of any, but there's bound to be something. It's a visible struggle for him to come up with one. ]
The lights in the little boats we sent out into the lake was nice.
[He had braced himself for Kuai to ask about his own good memories from home and was already sorting through ones safe to talk about, or ready to invent new ones as needed, so it's a relief when instead he decides to focus on their current surroundings. Yes, good choice. Much preferred.]
Mary is a lot of fun to have around. One of the first things she did was insist we put our handprints in paint on the door to the room we share. Every time I see how much smaller hers is, I smile.
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[High enough to fall too hard, though. That's for sure.]
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So something doesn't want us out on the lake. But the ferry can safely traverse it.
[Maybe those who stole the ferry were on the right track, apart from smashing it.]
The river is the same, there's something wrong about the water here. And the fire. It doesn't shed light. Doesn't catch properly. The bonfire is not even truly burning.
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[A deep drink to that toothy bullshit out there. He should probably explain, though, because Kuai keeps asking about Stone and Bodhi and they're important too but they have nothing to do with his own unfortunate discovery.]
Dunno if it's like this everywhere but past the peninsula lighthouse, the lake has fish. You know what fighting fish are?
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[He's familiar with both but he guesses that Rosinante isn't talking about the fancy ones people keep in bowls to look pretty.
In a shocking show of impropriety he reaches for the bottle to refill his glass. He's not feeling anything from this first one, and in all honesty he's not really sure if he can even get drunk with how his metabolism works. But he's going to find out today.]
I didn't think anyone would be out fishing considering what you caught last time.
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[An odd assumption, he thinks, but all right. He eyes the drink in his glass.]
I was with Jason. The blond kid. We were sailing just to explore, thinking maybe we'd find more of the town. Fish came up underneath us - big ones, lots of teeth. They chewed right through the boat in seconds.
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Along the coastline? That seems as if it should be safe, nothing has attacked the ferry. Yet. I suppose that's now a possibility.
[He fears he knows the answer but he asks anyway.]
Did either of you make it back to shore?
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[Not that he can swim, anyway, but that deserves a good stiff drink all the same.]
Harbor might still be all right, but at some point the lake turns more hazardous. Didn't think right by the museum would be so bad but now we know.
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[He's a little concerned about that. At what point will he simply stop coming back? Is there a limit? Why do some people only get one?]
Valuable information, at a great cost.
[He hesitates, information for information. Time to consult the inside of his glass.]
My brother died during the attack. I had his lantern with me for a time but one night it disappeared as I was sleeping.
Later I received a letter from the post office with a drawing of his lantern that said 'I can't repair what is kept from me.'
I have no idea who sent it.
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A letter, huh? Might be the church spirit, since that's the one who brings people back. Needed the lantern to put his soul back into it. I wonder how it gets around without people noticing?
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[Kuai doesn't sound terribly upset about that. Of the people from home he wants to associate with, his brother, as he is now, is definitely not one of them. He only arches an eyebrow at Rosinante, after what they've all been through, they're allowed some improprieties. Kuai himself is drinking more than he should, wondering if he should stop, but then also not having a good reason to do so. He's not a Grandmaster here. Who is he trying to impress?
He groans and rubs his eyes. Even thinking that is tugging at his delicate sense of honor.]
It somehow got into my room without my knowledge and then got back to the church. That was my fault though, it didn't occur to me that keeping the lantern would prevent his return. I'm glad it didn't get accidentally broken.
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Aziraphale talks to it sometimes, I think. Maybe ask him if he knows how it gets around.
[Or, Rosinante might ask the angel himself anyway. It's interesting. After a second or two more, he turns his tablet and pushes it toward Kuai.]
His tablet is registered as "subzero", right? Shows him still there so at the very least his access hasn't been canceled yet.
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[ Now that he's aware that some of the spirits have network access he's wondering just how much they're being spied on all the time.]
Yes, that is him. Well, it was. He was Sub-Zero before I was, but then he was killed. Using that name is just a jab at me. His name is Bi-Han.
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I see. In any case, the spirit isn't on the network, no. I think the ones who have spoken to it just left it notes and gifts in the church.
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[He wants to ask what it's like to die here, but he's definitely not drunk enough to be that improper. He's working on it though.]
I wonder who killed Bi-Han. He'll be after revenge as soon as he's able to.
[Kuai rubs his eyes, if it's not a random forest spirit he foresees himself breaking up a whole lot of fights in the near future.]
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I've never seen the church spirit fully, no. Just a glimpse. Its hand slipping through the trap door. If you're quick enough to open your eyes you can catch that much before it leaves. Nothing more, though. I'd ask Aziraphale, if I were you and wanted to know details. If he doesn't know them personally he might direct you to someone who does.
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[Maybe he will ask Aziraphale, just so he can get an answer to something in this place. He should probably also contact Bi-Han and get his side of the story before Kuai has to prevent a massacre.]
What do you give our chances of actually finding out .. anything about what's going on?
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[An unusually blunt answer from him as he knocks back more of his drink and lets the glass settle heavily on the table. He didn't come here to think hard thoughts. He'll do it anyway, though, but damn.]
Better than chance. We're doing what we can. But I can't just make up odds when space monsters are out there coming to turn out the lights and we don't know the first thing about how to tackle them.
cw: suicide
[He has both hands around his glass, watching the liquid spin around as it's chilled from his fingers. Now that he's asked the question he's positive he didn't really want the answer. Agreeing with Rosinante doesn't make it any harder to swallow.]
We'll make it. We have to, there's no other choice. So we do what we must.
[This is getting kind of deep and he sorta wishes he was full on hammered to not have to think about this. He can't even remember the last time he's been drunk. Years and years ago. Probably sometime after Bo' Rai Cho dragged him away from trying to kill himself as some pointless atonement for murders he didn't remember committing.
Welp, that's an even worse thought. Back to the bottle he goes to pour himself another.]
Let's talk about anything else. Pretend we're not here for a while.
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Though it's starting to take effect, slowly but surely. He can tell, because the things that come to mind that he wants to ask about are things maybe best left alone, but he's damned well going to ask at least one of them anyway. If it gets awkward, he can blame it on the alcohol, it's an easy scapegoat.]
You and the other Grandmaster, Hasashi. You were together, weren't you?
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Of all the things to talk about that one had not crossed his mind. While they were more than obvious to anyone who had seen either of them together for more than thirty seconds, Kuai is still utterly convinced of their stealth and that they were holding to the utmost bounds of propriety.
However; Rosinante had seen his death, felt how he felt about seeing Scorpion in Grandmaster Hasashi's place. And Kuai had let slip that he'd go back to the Netherrealm simply because he would be there.
Eventually he looks down at his drink again.]
Yes.
[Time to down that all in one go and get another.]
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Wish I'd gotten to know him better while he was here, but he seemed to keep to himself. Not that I blame him. Dying isn't an easy thing.
[He refills his glass, and hovers the bottle near Kuai's. There's still whiskey if he wants it; otherwise, plenty of other things to drink at the bar.]
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[Considering even he and Kuai didn't speak very often, he's not surprised that Hanzo kept to himself.
He tilts his glass towards the bottle, silent indication to fill him up again. At this point he's lost track of how many he's had. Three? Four? Too many he's sure.]
No, but at least he has experience with it. He's died several times before. But all this is new.
[He nods to the rest of the room, indicating the place at large.]
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[And he can't imagine it ever gets easier. He's died three times himself now and only the second time was quick and painless. Wouldn't it be nice if they were all like that? But he doesn't mention it, not wanting Kuai to have to remember exact circumstances of his - ... boyfriend?'s death.
The world feels more appropriate for young people, but oh well. It's staying in his own head.]
Sorry, this probably isn't helping any. We all have people we miss, though, and sometimes it's nicer to think about those good memories than the things around us here.
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It's true. Though it's somehow much easier to dwell on the bad memories than the good. It takes so little spoil something, and so much to redeem it.
Maybe we can make better memories here. Good ones to think on when all is dark and depressing.
[He's just drunk enough that he can't think of any, but there's bound to be something. It's a visible struggle for him to come up with one. ]
The lights in the little boats we sent out into the lake was nice.
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[He had braced himself for Kuai to ask about his own good memories from home and was already sorting through ones safe to talk about, or ready to invent new ones as needed, so it's a relief when instead he decides to focus on their current surroundings. Yes, good choice. Much preferred.]
Mary is a lot of fun to have around. One of the first things she did was insist we put our handprints in paint on the door to the room we share. Every time I see how much smaller hers is, I smile.
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